Air Apparent

by Piers Anthony

  14

  HEIR APPARENT

  They flew to Castle Roogna in the morning, hoping for the best. Debra landed in the orchard, then trotted toward the castle, carrying Wira. Their dream had gone bad, but at least she retained the ability to orient on the Factor’s body when he did magic, and this was where he had gone.

  A girl appeared before them. She had brown hair and eyes, and wore a brown dress. Also a little crown. She looked about eleven. “Hail, centaur,” she said. A brown harmonica appeared in her hands. She played a note and a small brown hailstorm formed.

  “Stop it, Harmony,” Wira snapped. “This is Debra, helping me with a vital mission.” Then, to Debra: “This is Princess Harmony. She’s a lot of impertinence.”

  Harmony was abashed. “I didn’t know it was you, Wira.” She paused, gazing at the woman with surprise. “You can see!”

  “It’s a long story,” Wira said. “Portions of which are covered by the Adult Conspiracy.”

  “Oh, fudge!” the girl said. A plate of fudge appeared in her hands. The harmonica had vanished. “Have some. It’s fresh conjured.”

  “Thank you, Harmony,” Wira said. She reached down to take a piece, and so did Debra. It turned out to be excellent fudge. “Apology accepted,” Wira said. She evidently understood this girl quite well, and was not at all in awe of her. Debra realized that Wira had probably babysat her on occasion.

  A second girl appeared. This one had green-blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore a green dress. She also wore a crown. “Anything interesting gets covered by the Conspiracy,” she said. “We’re ill and fatigued of it.”

  “And this is Princess Melody,” Wira said.

  “Twins!” Debra said, surprised.

  “No,” both girls said together, giggling.

  “There’s a third,” Wira explained. “Rhythm. They are triplets, each more mischievous than the others.”

  The third princess appeared. She had red hair, green eyes, a red dress, and a crown. A red drum appeared in her hands. “Present,” she said, and beat a brief drumroll.

  “We are looking for my husband Hugo and another man,” Wira said. “They may have appeared here rather suddenly.”

  The three princesses circulated a glance. “No,” Melody said.

  “They’re not here,” Harmony agreed.

  “And never were,” Rhythm concluded.

  Wira sighed. “Let me explain, girls. Debra is able to orient on them when they do magic. They came here last night. We need to catch up to them.”

  “They’re not here,” Melody said.

  “We’ll show you,” Harmony said.

  “Now,” Rhythm concluded.

  Then Melody sang a note. Harmony’s harmonica reappeared, and she played a matching note. Rhythm’s drum reappeared, and she beat a beat.

  Castle Roogna became transparent. There were people all through it, going about their business. None of them were Hugo or the Random Factor. It was astonishing magic.

  “Can this be believed?” Debra asked quietly.

  “The princesses are all Sorceresses,” Wira said. “Any one alone is as strong as any other Magician or Sorceress. Any two square it. The three together cube it. If they are sure our men are not in the castle, it is surely true.”

  “I think we have a problem,” Debra murmured. “I know they came here.”

  Three little lightbulbs flashed over the princesses’ heads. “Princess Ida!” Melody said.

  “They’re on one of her moons,” Harmony agreed.

  “And she’s in the castle, so the direction is toward her,” Rhythm concluded.

  Wira sighed. “I fear that may be true.”

  “I don’t understand,” Debra said.

  “Princess Ida is Queen Ivy’s twin sister,” Wira explained. “A little moon orbits her head. That moon is a world in itself, called Ptero, where all the folk who exist or might exist dwell, most of them hoping for a chance to come here to Xanth and be real. It follows its own rules of magic. If the men went there, we’ll have a horrible job locating them.”

  “But if we go there, I should be able to track them,” Debra said.

  “Yes, if they transfer again. But then they’ll be somewhere else.”

  Now Debra understood the gravity of it. “This may not be fun.”

  “Not fun at all,” Wira agreed. “It is apt to be a long and perhaps difficult chase. I think we’re going to need help.”

  “We’ll go!” the three princesses said together.

  “Would your mother let you?” Wira asked evenly.

  Their enthusiasm collapsed. That was answer enough.

  “Maybe we’d better talk with Princess Ida,” Debra suggested.

  “Yes. She’s a sensible woman.”

  They crossed over the moat, using the drawbridge. A huge green head lifted from the water to inspect them. “It’s okay, Sesame,” Melody said. “We’re going to see Princess Ida.”

  The head nodded and sank back beneath the water of the moat.

  The princesses showed them into the castle, which had reverted to normal solid colors. Soon they were ushered upstairs, and to the modest chamber of the queen’s sister. Debra was surprised that there was so little ceremony, but of course with three Sorceresses and a smart moat monster around they hardly needed guards or protocols.

  Princess Ida was an older woman of thirty-eight, undistinguished except for her crown. And the small ball circling her head. “I’m so glad to see you, Wira,” she said. “And you have achieved your vision at last!”

  “I’m still working on it,” Wira said. “Mostly I close my eyes to keep things familiar. This is Debra, temporarily in centaur form so she can fly me where I have to go. We have a serious problem.”

  “I’m so glad to meet you,” Princess Ida said to Debra.

  “I’m sorry I did not know of you,” Debra said, embarrassed. “I am told that that—that ball is an entire world. I am amazed.”

  “Things can be amazing,” Ida said. “What is this problem?”

  Debra expected Wira to describe it, but the woman demurred to her, oddly. So she plunged in, telling everything she thought was relevant. “So now it seems that Hugo and Random are not only in each other’s bodies, but on your world of Ptero,” she concluded. “I think we can find them, but—”

  “I’m sure you can,” Ida agreed. That was oddly reassuring, as though it became true as she spoke.

  “But my ability functions only when Random does his magic,” Debra said. “So if we go to Ptero, we’ll have to wait for them to move, and then they won’t be there any more. So I think we need some other way.”

  “You surely do,” Ida agreed. “Perhaps there is someone else who can locate them without the need for them to do magic.”

  “I suppose so,” Debra agreed uncertainly.

  Ida glanced at Wira. “Are there others who might help?”

  “We have checked out all those indicated by the live spots in the Book of Magic,” Wira said. “All except one I don’t understand, because it doesn’t refer to a person. That’s ‘Air Apparent.’ ”

  “I think we figured that out,” Debra said. “That was Fracto Cloud in his condensed form. Remember, we thought he was a dead body.”

  “Air become apparent,” Princess Ida agreed. “That certainly could have been a clue.”

  “Yet it lingers in my mind,” Wira said. “As though it isn’t yet done.”

  “I wonder,” Debra said. “Happy Bottom and Fray helped us search, and thought their role was done when they identified Fracto. Maybe it wasn’t done.”

  “That certainly could be the case,” Ida agreed. She seemed to be a most amicable person.

  “So maybe we should check back with them. We may need one of them along, in compacted form, to complete this mission. Maybe not Fracto, who I understand is irascible, but Happy seemed nice when we met her.”

  “I agree,” Ida said.

  Wira glanced at her appraisingly. “Then I think I do too.”

  “Oh
, it’s just a wild conjecture,” Debra protested.

  “It will do,” Ida said.

  “And I don’t see how a compacted cloud could help us handle the world of Ptero. But if the Book of Answers suggests that is the case, then maybe we should try it.”

  “I agree,” Ida said.

  “But it also might be a pun for ‘heir apparent,’ in which case it would be someone else. Such as Sim Bird, heir to the knowledge of the universe, or Nimbus, heir to the phenomenal powers of the Demon Xanth. So it is possible that one of them is the one we want.”

  “You are thinking like a centaur,” Ida said.

  Debra blushed, surprised both by the compliment and the fact that she considered it a compliment. She had actually spoken more thoughtfully than she was accustomed to, so the centaur form might indeed be affecting her mind. That seemed to be no bad thing.

  “Thank you, Princess Ida,” Wira said. “We will go see whom we can enlist, then return here to tackle Ptero. We appreciate your help.”

  “You are more than welcome, Wira. You deserve to have your happiness back.”

  They left the chamber and the castle, unobstructed. “Where to now?” Debra asked as Wira mounted and she took wing.

  “You have spelled it out,” Wira said. “First the Region of Air, then the others.”

  “But I was just conjecturing! It might be nonsense.”

  “It’s not nonsense. It’s an approach that should facilitate our success.”

  “We have no certainty of success,” Debra said sourly. “Only my half-baked ideas. I’m almost embarrassed to have spoken them to the princess.”

  “You did very well, Debra.”

  “I still think you could have presented our case more clearly and succinctly. Why did you leave it to me?”

  “There is something else about Princess Ida. She is the Sorceress of the Idea. Her moon is a world of ideas, but that is only part of her talent. Whatever idea she accepts is valid.”

  Debra laughed. “Oh, surely even she makes mistakes on occasion.”

  Wira remained serious. “Here is the way it works: ideas become reality when Ida accepts them. But they have to be the ideas of folk who do not know her talent. That may be nature’s way of preventing her from changing the reality of the universe to suit herself.”

  “You knew this, but I didn’t. So I may have been spouting nonsense.” Then she paused. “Wait half a moment. Ideas become real, when—”

  “Exactly. Now we know we are on the right track, because it became right when you suggested it and Ida agreed. All we have to do is follow up.”

  “That’s why you left it to me!” Debra said. “Because I was ignorant!”

  “Because you didn’t know the significance of the situation,” Wira said. “I could not suggest anything, because she would be unable to make it real. But you could, and you came up with some good ideas, fortunately.”

  Debra shook her head. “Well, I hope they are good, because it seems we are stuck with them.”

  They crossed the Gap Chasm. A small cloud floated there. It spied them and formed a smiley face.

  “Fray!” Debra called. “We’re on our way to talk to your mother.”

  The smile faded. An arrow symbol formed, pointing down.

  “Very well,” Wira said. “We’ll land so we can talk.”

  Debra spiraled down to land at the brink of the huge chasm. The cloud condensed and formed into the nine-year-old girl form. “Mother sent me out to play so she can blow hot and cold with father,” Fray reported. “They’re blowing up a storm. I don’t think they want visitors today.”

  “The Adult Conspiracy,” Wira murmured. “It’s surprising how that gets around.”

  “It’s a nuisance,” Fray said. “I don’t know what they’re doing that has to be so secret.”

  “I recently joined the Conspiracy,” Debra said. “It is intended to protect children from things that might damage their bodies or spirits. It is better to let it be.”

  “Did you say that before you joined it?” the girl demanded rebelliously.

  “No, I was all set to violate it.”

  Fray laughed, surprisingly. “I almost violated it too.”

  Both Debra and Wira looked at her, dismayed. “You did?” Wira asked.

  “Sure. When the goblin men were attacking at Goblin Mountain. They were grabbing the women, pushing them down to the floor, and tearing off their clothes. I know all I had to do was stay still and let them catch me, and I’d find out what it was all about.”

  “You didn’t,” Wira said, appalled.

  “I didn’t,” Fray agreed. “Mother told me to vaporize, and I did, and they couldn’t get me. But whatever it was looked pretty brutal. Then later mother had some reverse wood, and she was getting all childish, while I got adult and stopped her from having any naughty fun.” She grimaced. “So why are you headed there?”

  “We think we need an air apparent,” Debra said. “That is, folk like you are air, but when you condense you became apparent. So your mother may be able to help us.”

  “I could help you,” Fray said. “Mother’s too busy making weather with father.”

  “But our mission may be dangerous. Your mother might not want you going on it.”

  “She’ll let me go,” Fray said confidently. “As long as there’s at least one adult along.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Ever see a cloud tantrum?”

  Both Debra and Wira had to smile. Even a small thunderstorm could be devastating on occasion. “Maybe she will do,” Debra said to Wira. “She has spirit. The idea didn’t specify age, and children can do some things adults won’t.”

  Wira addressed Fray: “We have to check on a couple of other folk. Why don’t you go home and get your folks’ permission, and we’ll meet you at Castle Roogna.”

  “Goody!” the child exclaimed, and vaporized.

  “I hope we don’t regret this,” Wira said as they took off for the most likely place to locate Sim Bird: Mount Parnassus, where the Simurgh dwelt.

  “One thing about Parnassus,” Wira said. “You can’t fly there. The Simurgh has a no-fly zone.”

  Debra shrugged. “Then I’ll trot. It will be interesting to see it. Is it true that there are wild women there, and a giant serpent?”

  “The maenads and the Python,” Wira agreed. “Both are extremely dangerous.”

  “And me having to fake expertise with my bow.”

  “Maybe we can talk our way past the maenads. We’re women, after all. But the Python may be a challenge.”

  “It’s nice to see your confidence,” Debra said, shuddering.

  “We have our men to rescue.”

  That stiffened Debra’s resolve. “We’ll get through.”

  She glided to a landing near the base of the twin-peaked Mount Parnassus and trotted forward. There was a convenient path leading up the southern peak. But not far along it they heard the whoops of an approaching war party. “Show no fear,” Wira said tightly.

  “I have no fear,” Debra said with half a smile. “Only terror.”

  The savage women burst into view. They were naked, shapely, and wild-haired. “Food!” one screamed, spit dripping from her pointed teeth.

  “Not today,” Debra said firmly. “We have come to see the Simurgh.”

  “Who cares? You’ve got good meat on you.” They crowded closer, salivating.

  “We are on a mission relating to men,” Wira said. “We have to catch them so we can deal with them appropriately.”

  The maenads milled about. “Are they tasty?” one asked.

  “Delicious,” Wira said.

  “Bleep.” The maenads moved on. They evidently weren’t supposed to interfere with female hunting missions.

  “Delicious?” Debra inquired when they were alone.

  “When you have been party to the Adult Conspiracy longer, you will understand.”

  They continued up the mountain. Suddenly a monstrous serpent slithered in
to view. “Morsels!” it said.

  Debra’s bow was in her hand, an arrow nocked, the string drawn. She wasn’t aware of taking it; it just happened. She was surprised that she had the strength to hold the taut bowstring. The arrow’s head tracked the serpent’s left eye.

  “Oh, come on now, filly,” the Python said. “Do you think you can threaten me with that tiny barb?”

  “I have others,” Debra said evenly.

  The Python lifted his head high. “I am the nemesis and delight of all women,” he said. “I rouse their desire as nothing else can. After I possess you, I will consume you both.”

  The weird thing was, the big snake was doing it. His gaze held Debra in a temporary trance as he talked. She was unable to move.

  The Python slid smoothly forward. His jaws gaped, seeming almost wide enough to take in the centaur.

  Then he paused. “Shouldn’t you be wearing a bra?”

  The curse worked even on the Python? Well, he was male.

  “Forget it, snake,” Wira said. “You can’t fascinate me. I can’t see you.”

  Startled, the serpent focused on her. “You’re that blind woman,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Coming to see the Simurgh. Now get out of our way.”

  “Unlikely.” The gaze flicked back to Debra.

  The first arrow was suddenly sticking out of the serpent’s nose, and the second was nocked. “A warning shot,” Debra said. “Next one strikes your eye.”

  The Python considered. His forked tongue flicked out, wrapped around the arrow, and yanked it out. Then he slowly backed away. In two and a half moments he was gone.

  Debra shakily put the bow away. “You distracted him just long enough,” she said. “How did you break the fascination?”

  “I closed my eyes. I really don’t use them to find my way. That was a nice shot.”

  “I did loose an arrow!” Debra said, belatedly realizing. “I put it right where I wanted. I would have scored on his eye too. I thought I didn’t know how.”

  “It seems the body does provide that talent. Too bad you lost an arrow.”

  “It was worth it.”

  They moved on up the slope until they came to the cleared summit. There was the biggest, largest, hugest possible tree, with a monstrous bird perched on one of its stout branches. The bird had a head crested with fire, feathers like veils of light and shadow, and wings like mist over a mountain. This was the Simurgh, the Keeper of the Tree of Seeds.