Air Apparent

by Piers Anthony

  They let the dream collapse, like their hopes of a quick resolution and reunion.

  13

  CONE

  Hugo transferred them out before the closing fire could burn them to death. He found himself in a dark cellar, aware of several small coins. Those were more of what they had exchanged places with.

  But he still heard the fire, immediately above, and smelled smoke. “Where are we?” he asked, alarmed.

  “In the beer cellar,” the Factor said. “This time the random exchange was a very short distance.”

  “Then we’d better get out of here!”

  “Wait!” the Factor cried.

  But Hugo was already implementing the exchange. This time there was an unusual wrench, as if he was being somehow turned out of his body.

  Then they were sitting on a broad pavement, and orange cones were coming at them. Both of them jumped up and dodged before any cones struck them. “What’s going on here?” Hugo demanded as he dodged.

  The Factor reached out and caught a cone as it missed him. He held it up. On it was printed the word NUNDRUM. “A cone named Nundrum?”

  Hugo groaned. “Cone-nundrum. A pun.”

  “But why are they trying to collide with us?”

  “In Mundania they have some sort of game they play with cars, dodging stationary orange cones. Here it seemed we have to dodge the moving cones.”

  The Factor looked about. “This is an odd landscape. It seems longer than wide, and one side is thicker than the other. I don’t recall a place like this.”

  Hugo looked. Indeed, one side seemed to diminish to a point in the distance, while the other grew large. Ahead and behind the land seemed to curve grandly downward. “Oh, no!”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “I think this is another world.”

  “Another what? And don’t play Metria with me.”

  “A world of Ida. One of them is in the shape of a giant water-filled cone.”

  The Factor looked at him. “And we’re among cones, and exchanged with some. This makes uncomfortable sense.”

  Hugo dodged another cone. “However, it makes it easy for us to return. We don’t have to exchange; we can simply let our soul substance dissolve.”

  The Factor dodged his own cone. “Our what?”

  Hugo realized that the Random Factor had not learned about Ida’s moons. “Princess Ida has a moon orbiting her head. That’s Ptero, and on it is every creature who exists in Xanth, or who is likely to exist. When Xanthians visit, they have to leave their bodies behind, and just their souls go to Ptero. The souls condense into the little bit of material substance they have, forming likenesses of the people they are. So you and I are really tiny bits of condensed souls. When they are ready to return, they just let those souls diffuse, and float back to their sleeping bodies.”

  “But you said we’re on a cone, not Ptero.”

  “On Ptero is another Princess Ida, with another moon. And so on. I’m not sure what number Cone is, but it’s very small. It doesn’t matter; we can return from any of those worlds.”

  “But we exchanged with two cones. They must be on Xanth now.”

  Hugo considered. “I wonder if they took our bodies? Then we might have trouble returning, because our bodies would be cones.”

  “I have a worse notion,” the Factor said. “Suppose our bodies got burned up in the fire? Then we won’t be able to return to them at all.”

  Hugo stared at him, horrified. “It’s bad enough being in the wrong bodies, but this would be awful!” In his distraction he remained still too long, and a cone collided with him. “Ooof!”

  “We left them while the fire was burning. I tried to make you wait, because we might have escaped that cellar before the fire reached it. But if our bodies are unconscious there, they’ll burn when the cellar does.”

  “Maybe the fire didn’t get that far,” Hugo said desperately.

  “We shall have to hope that’s the case. But I’d rather be certain before I risk my life trying to return to it.”

  “So would I!” Hugo got up and avoided another cone. “Let’s get out of here so we can concentrate.”

  “We’re already concentrated souls.” But the Factor started walking.

  Soon they were off the plain, and the orange cones were no longer coming at them. “We need more information,” Hugo said.

  “How can we get information, without going back to see?”

  “On each world there’s a Princess Ida. Maybe she’ll know.”

  “So where is this Princess Ida?”

  Hugo concentrated, remembering. “I think she’s—she’s in the apex of the cone, inside. Under the sea.”

  “What sea?”

  “That’s the water in the cone. I think visitors can breathe under the water, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” Hugo strove to remember what little he knew about it. “But there’s a—a thick jungle in the way, and some weird activity at the rim. We’d really do better with a local guide.”

  The Factor sighed. “So we’ll get a local guide. Where?”

  “Maybe we can find one.”

  They didn’t find a guide. They found a castle. It was pretty, with shiny gray walls and colorful flags flying from assorted turrets. It seemed to be unguarded; it didn’t even have a moat. On its front gate were blazoned the words CASTLE NAMETAG.

  But there was something odd about it, apart from the name. “This thing is made of cardboard,” Hugo said, surprised, as he tapped the wall. It had the dull hollow sound of compressed paper.

  “What do you expect, on a world with a pointed tip, filled with water, orbiting the head of Princess Idle?”

  “Ida. Princess Ida.” But Hugo did wonder.

  “So let’s go in and see if they have a guide we can borrow.”

  “Suppose it’s a fire-breathing dragon’s castle?”

  “It would have burned up long ago.” The Factor put a hand on the painted gate and pulled. It swung open on rolled paper hinges. Hugo had to join him, not daring to get separated, because it was Hugo’s body the Factor was risking.

  Inside was an arched hall decorated with poster paint, leading into a painted court. The court was filled with cardboard statuary and paper plants.

  “Where are the people?” Hugo asked nervously.

  “Who cares? All we want is a guide.”

  Hugo wasn’t easy with the man’s attitude, but didn’t argue. Then he heard a faint clamor from somewhere above. “What’s that?”

  The Factor listened. “Sounds like a party.”

  So it did. They hadn’t come here for a party.

  In the center of the courtyard was a circular corrugated cardboard stairway spiraling down. From it came a faint hiss. “What’s that?”

  “A warming teakettle, for all I care.”

  Hugo wasn’t quite satisfied with that answer. “It sounds alive.”

  “That’s all we need: a living teakettle.”

  Hugo was getting annoyed with the Factor’s insensitive responses. “I’m going down to check.”

  “It could be a simmering dragon.”

  “In a cardboard castle?” Hugo got a certain private satisfaction from turning the Factor’s logic against him. They needed each other, but they really weren’t friends.

  They stepped down around the spiral, which led into the depth of the foundation rock. The hiss grew louder, and more plaintive. It was definitely from something alive.

  “Oh be quiet,” the Factor snapped.

  The hiss halted.

  Hugo exchanged a glance with the Factor. The thing was responsive?

  Then, silently, they walked down the passage from which the sound had come. And there in a hard cardboard cage was a tightly coiled winged snake. Its wings were bound to its body by twisted paper cords, and its mouth was held closed by more cord. It looked miserable.

  “You poor thing!” Hugo exclaimed, going to the cage.

  “Don’t risk my body near that monster,” the Factor said.

/>   “Monster? This is a poor suffering winged snake. No creature should be treated this way.”

  “I’ve seen that monster before,” the Factor said. “I was looking for information on the Factory agent, and I passed that flying snake along the way. I’d know it anywhere.”

  “But that was back in Xanth!”

  “So what is it doing here?”

  “It can be here too. Everything in Xanth is also in the Worlds of Ida. Here they are mere ideas; in Xanth they are real. Only a few possible creatures get to assume reality.” Hugo paused, gazing at the bound snake. “Did it attack you, in Xanth?”

  “No, it just flew on by.”

  “So it’s not vicious. I’m going to free it.” Hugo walked up to the cage.

  “Why bother? It’s not what we’re looking for.”

  “Because I hurt when I see others hurt. I feel their suffering.” Hugo put his hands to the cage door and worked it open.

  “Ludicrous,” the Factor said. “I’m surprised your wife puts up with it.”

  “She’s worse than I am,” Hugo said. “I mean, better than I am. She’s more sensitive. She can charm wild creatures just by being near them. I think that’s why I loved her from the start.” He put his hands to the cord binding the snake’s muzzle.

  “And doubtless why she married you,” the Factor said drily. “You’re two of a kind.”

  Hugo paused. “Yes, I suppose we are. I always wondered what she saw in me. She’s such a wonderful woman, while I’m such a nobody.”

  “Wonderful my foot! She was blind.”

  Hugo paused again. “What does that have to do with it?”

  “Why tie yourself down with a blind woman? You did her a favor marrying her.”

  Hugo was becoming considerably annoyed, but he did not want to make the Factor angry and perhaps have him run off with Hugo’s body. “If I did her a favor, what’s wrong with that?”

  “You might have married a luscious princess and lived happily ever after. You don’t need to do favors for stray characters with liabilities.”

  Hugo resumed work on the binding, carefully freeing the snake’s mouth. “Don’t bite me,” he murmured, smiling.

  I won’t.

  Hugo’s jaw dropped. The snake understood him—and had spoken to him telepathically! Unless he was losing his mind. “Did I imagine that?”

  “No, that’s a real feathered serpent you’re handling, idiot,” the Factor said. “It won’t bite you until you free its wings so it can get away.”

  Him I might bite, the snake thought. You, never. You are the kindest person I have encountered. Hello, Hugo; I am Era Demon.

  “Why didn’t you communicate before?” Hugo asked it.

  “What do you mean?” the Factor demanded. “I’ve been talking to you all along, dumbbell.”

  I was verifying your intentions. Sometimes the nametaggers tease me cruelly, pretending they will free me, then binding me worse.

  “The nametaggers?”

  “Yes, this is Castle Nametag,” the Factor reminded him.

  All they’re interested in is playing name tag.

  “Playing name tag?”

  “What nonsense are you talking about?” the Factor demanded.

  Shut Your Mouth! the snake thought violently.

  The Factor’s mouth snapped shut, astonished.

  Hugo removed the cord from the snake’s wings. “If you’re a demon, why didn’t you just dissolve into smoke and float away?”

  I’m not that type of demon. I’m a winged monster demon. I can change shapes, but only when I’m free. The nametaggers know that, so they keep me bound.

  “Well, you’re free now,” Hugo said. “Do you need help getting out of that cage?”

  No. The snake slithered forward, uncoiling. It turned out to be several times the length of a man. Its scales were green and orange, its wings white, and it had a really cute smile now that it was free. But I am not entirely free yet.

  “We’ll lead you out of the castle,” Hugo said. “Then you can fly into the sky.”

  I will not be free until I have repaid you the significant favor you have done me. You need a guide to Princess Ida. I will be your guide.

  “Oh. Well, yes, we do need a guide. But that wasn’t why I freed you.”

  I know. You freed me because you have empathy.

  “Empathy?”

  You feel the feelings of others, as does your wife. You make a wonderful couple.

  “What is empathy?” the Factor asked.

  He lacks it. But he’s in your body. I can if you wish provide him a mental/emotional link so that he understands.

  Hugo nodded. “Yes, that might help.”

  “Great fishes and little gods!” the Factor exclaimed. “Suddenly I understand! So that’s why you freed the monster!”

  “That’s why,” Hugo agreed. “I suffered when he did. Now he has volunteered to be our guide to Princess Ida.”

  “Then let’s be on our way.” The Factor set off for the spiral stairway.

  But now the way was blocked. A crowd of men and women stood there, human in body but without regular heads. From the neck of each rose a tag. On each tag was printed a name.

  “The nametaggers,” Hugo said.

  “To be sure,” a sturdy male with a tag saying james agreed. Hugo wasn’t sure where the sound came from, but the tag vibrated as the man spoke.

  “He freed the monster!” a shapely female said. Her tag was printed mary.

  “So we’ll recapture it and put him in a cage too,” a third one said. His tag said ROBERT.

  Beware! Era thought. They have means.

  “What means?”

  It relates to their game. If they touch you with a tag, you are null until you fetch another name. Don’t let a tag touch you.

  This was bad. The three of them couldn’t possibly forge through that pack of taggers without getting tagged. “We don’t dare transfer yet,” Hugo said. “Factor, you’ll have to fight them with fruit.”

  “With fruit?” the Factor asked incredulously. “So they’ll gorge to death?”

  “Cherries. Pineapples,” Hugo clarified. “Watch how you handle them.”

  “Oho!” A handful of cherries appeared in the Factor’s hand. “Say, you freaks want a bit of fruit? Try this!” He flipped a cherry toward the throng.

  The cherry flew down to land at the feet of the nearest man. It exploded into red fragments, leaving a puff of reddish smoke. The nametaggers, surprised, backed off.

  “What, you disdain that?” the Factor asked. “Here’s another.” He flipped a second cherry, which banged closer.

  Beware, Era thought. They are coming from other directions.

  So they were. The trio was now surrounded. How could they avoid getting tagged?

  “Oh, really?” the Factor asked. A pineapple appeared in his hand. “How would you like a taste of this?”

  The nametaggers fled. They had seen a pineapple before.

  “Well done,” Hugo said. Normally he did not wish anyone harm, but after seeing what the nametaggers had done to Era, he was annoyed.

  “Let’s go,” the Factor said, holding the pineapple threateningly.

  They started down the hall to the stairs.

  They are lurking.

  “Give me a pineapple,” Hugo said.

  The Factor tossed it to him, and conjured another. Hugo caught it, but his knees felt weak. Cherries were impressive, but pineapples were dangerous.

  They made it to the stairs. “Go on up,” Hugo said. “I’ll guard the rear.”

  There was not room here for the serpent to fly, but he had no trouble slithering rapidly up. The Factor followed. Hugo wielded his pineapple, facing back.

  The nametaggers appeared, running toward him. “He doesn’t have the nerve,” one cried.

  Hugo didn’t have a choice. He heaved the pineapple at the crowd, and turned to run up the stairs. He had hardly gone five steps before the pineapple detonated. The blast blew him up several mo
re steps—but it also blew out the steps behind him. Losing support, the ones above him began to dangle. He struggled to mount them, but the footing was bad, and he found himself slipping back down to the floor.

  Then a green and orange cable slapped against his chest. It was the serpent’s tail. He grabbed it. It lifted, hauling him along with it. When he reached the next flight of steps he was able to put his feet down and resume running up the stairs.

  Then he smelled smoke. The pineapple had set fire to the cardboard foundation! That was more damage than he had intended to do, but he couldn’t stop it now. If only the taggers had let them go in peace.

  He followed the others to the ground floor and out of the castle. Behind them the flames were spreading. They got well clear, then turned to look back, panting.

  The castle was going up in flames, literally. Sections of burning cardboard were flying into the sky, and smoke was pouring out. The castle was doomed.

  “I hope the nametaggers manage to get out safely,” Hugo gasped.

  “You would,” the Factor said.

  A group of people was forming outside the castle. It did seem that the taggers were making it. But they would have a long hard haul rebuilding their castle. It probably served them right, but Hugo was sorry anyway.

  “We’d better get on our way before we are discovered,” the Factor said.

  Good advice. They walked on away from the conflagration.

  Too late. “There they are!” a tagger cried.

  “Run!” Hugo cried.

  “I’ve still got my pineapple,” the Factor said.

  “I’ll take it,” Hugo said. “The two of you get away, as before.”

  They did so. Hugo stood facing the taggers, holding the pineapple aloft. That brought them to a rapid halt; he heard faint screech-marks.

  Then the tagger named James stepped forward. “You world travelers have escaped our justified retribution,” he called. “But not entirely. I have a curse I saved for an appropriate occasion. Now it is yours: you can move only upworld.” He gestured, and there was a kind of shimmer that sailed at Hugo, touched him, and passed on to catch the others. That was all.

  James turned away, so Hugo did also. He walked to catch up with the others. “They have given up the chase.”

  But they cursed us, the green snake thought.