Ghost Writer in the Sky

by Piers Anthony

  “I almost think I have heard that story,” Dolin said.

  “So it was Electra who was kissed awake by young Prince Dolph,” Monica said. “Almost eight and a half centuries later.”

  “Not a thousand years?” Emerald asked.

  “She got time off for good behavior.”

  “While asleep? She must be a really good person!”

  “So Electra married Prince Dolph,” Ted said. “That’s another separate story, because he loved Monica’s mother, Nada Naga. But the essence is that if you count from when Electra was first delivered, she’s now almost nine hundred years old.”

  “She doesn’t look it,” Monica said.

  “I’m supposed to meet a nine-hundred-year-old woman?” Dolin asked.

  “There must be a reason,” Ted said.

  “There must be,” Dolin agreed. “Because I feel it is the right thing to do.”

  Ted and Monica retreated, leaving the bodies to Tartan and Tara. “Xanth certainly is full of history,” Tartan said.

  Emerald laughed. “Most places are. We dragons have our histories too.”

  They paused at a wayside rest stop, and this time Tartan and Tara had the wit to remember to visit their own bodies. “Much more comfortable,” Tara said, back in Mundania after they had handled the necessary details.

  “It’s getting so I feel more at home with the host in Xanth,” Tartan said. “My body here is just a body, not very interesting.”

  She laughed. “I know the feeling. But maybe we can add some interest.” She glanced at the bed. “Shall we?”

  He was tempted, but hesitated. “Our hosts would know.”

  “Oh, they would,” she said, coloring slightly.

  “I wonder if we could ever get to—to do the ellipsis—in Xanth? That would be interesting.”

  “Our hosts would certainly know then.”

  He sighed. “They would. We have no privacy there.”

  “And not much here, really.”

  So, vaguely disappointed, they returned to Xanth.

  “You should have done it,” Ted said, reading his mind. “I would have. Ellipses don’t grow on trees, even in Xanth.”

  Meanwhile Tara blushed scarlet. Monica had evidently teased her about doing it in Xanth.

  “I suspect we are missing something,” Dolin said to Emerald.

  “I may have a notion what,” Emerald said. “Dragons do it too.”

  “No need to share,” Tara said quickly.

  They walked on, and soon came to the huge Castle Roogna, the center of the Kingdom of Xanth, human division. It was magnificent.

  But they didn’t get to tour it. A woman came out to meet them before they reached the moat. “You must be the Mundanes,” she said. “Eve called me. I’m Electra.”

  “Confirmed,” Ted said.

  “We are the visitors,” Tartan said. “And this is Princess Emerald, a dragon girl, traveling with us. And this is Prince Dolin. We’re not sure exactly why—” He broke off.

  Dolin and Electra looked at each other, came together, hugged and kissed. “Oh, my!” Electra said. “No wonder.”

  “No wonder what?” Tara asked, slightly nettled.

  “I can’t say. There’s a geis. But it’s amazing. I’m so glad Eve contacted me. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.”

  Tartan was getting somewhat tired of the geis, but kept silent.

  “You seem to be an interesting fellow,” Emerald remarked to Dolin.

  “I have no idea how,” Dolin said. “I definitely felt something. Princess Electra is very important to me. But I don’t know how.”

  “It is vital that you accomplish your mission, Prince,” Electra said. “Then all will be known. I certainly hope you find your princess.”

  “I hope so too,” Dolin agreed weakly.

  “I must let you go now,” Electra said. “We have visitors attending, and I must return to them. I sneaked out on my daughter’s behest.” She turned and walked rapidly back to the castle.

  “She didn’t want us in Castle Roogna,” Tara said. “I wish I knew why.”

  Dolin shook his head. “And as far as I know, I’m not even part of your mission. I’m just along on my own.”

  “Things can be related,” Emerald said. “I’m the real tag-along.”

  “I wonder,” he said. Then he looked back. “I have the feeling Amara is close.”

  “Good enough,” Tartan said. “Maybe we’ll finally start solving mysteries faster than we’re generating them.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice,” Tara said with feeling.

  They walked along the path to a nearby rest stop. Tartan realized that these were always convenient, on the enchanted paths, in contrast to the un-enchanted paths.

  There was a young woman. She was reasonably pretty and quite shapely; her panties would certainly put men out for the count. Both Tartan and Dolin looked at her with interest.

  “Stop it,” the woman snapped. “I do not return your interest.”

  “But we didn’t say anything,” Tartan protested.

  “You didn’t have to. You were thinking of panties.”

  She had them there. “We are looking for Amara,” Tara said.

  “I am she. I was expecting you, whoever you are.”

  They introduced themselves, explaining about the ghosts and hosts. “We are looking for the Goddess Isis,” Tara concluded. “We understand you know where she is.”

  “She’s locked in the comic strips,” Amara said. “Lotsa luck seeking her there.”

  “Comic strips?” Tartan asked.

  “Bands of egregious puns,” Ted said. “Found dividing the sections of the world Ptero. Now some have appeared in Xanth proper.”

  “We are remembering,” Tara said. “But we’re not clear how they got to Xanth.”

  “The Goddess can’t leave the comic strips,” Amara said. “But she can manipulate them somewhat. So she moves them around to suit her. She can be anywhere in Xanth she wants to be, but always in a strip. She’s not pleased.”

  “So all we need to do is enter a strip and we’ll find her?” Tartan said.

  “Hardly. You have no experience with strips?”

  “None. Well, our hosts do.”

  “You have some fun coming.”

  “So will you help us find her?” Tara asked.

  “Why should I?”

  They gazed at her. “There is perhaps something you want in return?” Emerald asked.

  “From you folk? I think not.”

  Tartan was becoming annoyed. “Don’t let her play you,” Ted warned. “Let Dolin or Emerald handle it.” It was evident that Monica was giving Tara similar advice.

  Dolin tried. “As you know, my talent is doing the right thing, even if I lack a clear idea what it is. I feel that the right thing is for you to join our party, and perhaps you will help us when you feel the time is right.”

  “I am not interested in joining your party.”

  He smiled winningly at her. That smile could melt ice. “Perhaps there is something we might do for you in exchange.”

  But the ice didn’t melt. “I doubt it.”

  Dolin looked handsomely regretful. “I fear I do not properly understand. Please, will you clarify? I have not been in Xanth long, and lack sophistication in its ways.” Tartan could almost see the radiation of sincerity. How could she not be moved?

  Amara sighed. “I’m trying to be polite, but you force me. I am asexual, which means I have no interest in getting into an ellipsis or summoning the stork with anyone. You men have been undressing me in your minds. That makes me uncomfortable.”

  “But—” Emerald said.

  “And you’re doing it too,” Amara said. “That’s not my style either.”

  “These men have been understan
ding about my orientation,” Emerald said. “They have interest in my body, but they do not press me to give it to them. They would give you similar leeway. For the sake of the relationship.”

  “Relationship? That’s the other thing,” Amara said. “I am also aromantic.”

  “Aromatic?” Dolin asked. “Perfume?”

  “No. A-romantic. I am not looking for romance either, with or without ellipses. So you folk have nothing there for me either.”

  The group shared a glance of frustration.

  “Then it seems we must leave you to your own devices,” Dolin said with sincere regret. “Perhaps we shall meet again soon.”

  “I doubt it.” Amara walked away.

  “That didn’t play out well,” Tara said.

  “I felt that the right thing to do was to let her go at this point,” Dolin said.

  “After wasting our time with her,” Emerald said.

  “No, my sense tells me it wasn’t wasted, merely a necessary preamble.”

  “Are you sure your talent is working right?”

  He laughed. “No. But it is all I have. More even than my absent memory. I have to trust it.”

  Emerald eyed him. “I say this in the most perplexed way: you are a mystery.”

  “To myself especially,” he agreed.

  “But I like you. I don’t understand why.”

  Tartan sneaked a glance to Tara. There could be a reason.

  “And I like you,” Dolin said. “Though obviously we have nothing for each other.”

  “Nothing we care to share,” she agreed.

  It was time to break this up. “What does your talent indicate is the right thing for us to do now?” Tartan asked.

  Dolin considered. “We should follow her.”

  Tartan shrugged. “It isn’t as if we have anything better to do at the moment.”

  So they walked along the path in the direction Amara had gone.

  They came to a fork. “Which way is correct?” Tara asked.

  Dolin indicated the right side path.

  Farther along there was another split. This time there was a sign on the right side: YOU ARE NOW LEAVING THE ENCHANTED PATH. SAFETY IS NO LONGER GUARANTEED.

  “That is the one,” Dolin said.

  “Why would she take an unsafe path?” Tartan asked.

  Emerald sniffed the air. “The odor confirms that she did.”

  “You retain dragon senses in your human form?” Dolin asked.

  “To a degree yes.”

  “Maybe that’s why,” Tara said. “That other sign.”

  The others looked. It said TROLL HOUSE COOKIES.

  “I love cookies,” Tara said. “Maybe she does too.”

  “This is not to be trusted,” Emerald said. “Trolls are bad news.”

  “There is something I don’t quite understand,” Dolin said. “What supports that sign?”

  They looked more closely. It turned out that there was no physical sign, merely an outline and the words painted in the air. “This is curious,” Emerald said. “I have not seen a sign like this before. Has anyone else?”

  The others shook their heads. It was new to all of them.

  They followed the new path. “Uh-oh,” Emerald said. “I smell troll.”

  There was a scuffing on the path. That seemed to be where Amara had stopped. And not continued.

  “My sense tells me that the right thing to do is follow your judgment,” Dolin told Emerald.

  “Let me turn dragon and see what I can see. Look if you want to.” She started stripping off her clothing.

  Dolin and Tartan turned their backs. This was not mere politeness; they knew she was wearing panties.

  “Done,” Tara said.

  They turned back. She was holding Emerald’s clothing. Beyond her the dragon was sniffing the ground. Then she spread her wings and launched into the air. She ascended above the trees, circled, and flew away.

  “We must assist her,” Dolin said.

  In three and a half moments the dragon was back. She descended rapidly and skidded as she landed, changing to human as she did. “She’s in trouble! A troll got her and is going to cook her.”

  “In his troll house,” Tartan said, shielding his eyes. “Now we know the meaning of that message.”

  “What can we do?” Dolin asked, not looking at her.

  “Follow me.” Emerald returned to dragon form and crashed through the brush, clearing a new path for them. When the foliage was too thick, she breathed blasts of fire and burned it out.

  They came to a pond. In it was an island, and on the island was a small pavilion: the troll house. Amara was tied in vines, perched on a grill. The troll was gathering kindling and putting it under the grill.

  “Amara!” Dolin called. “We’ll swim across and save you!”

  She saw him. “You can’t. The pond is filled with loan sharks, and the troll has dragon’s bane to repel the dragon.”

  They saw that it was true. Colored fins cut the water. The sharks were waiting for them to try to cross.

  “Loan sharks will take an arm and a leg if you let them,” Ted said.

  Ouch! Another pun, but a dangerous one.

  Emerald returned to human form. “Distract him,” she said urgently. “Dolin, come with me.” She returned to dragon again.

  Tartan had no idea what Emerald had in mind, but trusted Dolin’s judgment in following her directions. “The troll is male. I can think of only one way to distract him.”

  “Yes,” Tara agreed, blushing. “Don’t look.” She started stripping.

  Tartan stepped between her and the pond, facing the island. “Hey, dunderhead!” he called. “Get a load of what you’re missing!”

  The troll looked, and paused in place. Then he shook himself. “You can’t freak me! Too far away.”

  “Is that so?” Tara called. “How about this?”

  The troll paused again, longer. Tartan realized that Monica was helping Tara do a better flash. He wished he could see it himself, but did not dare look. It still was not completely freaking out the troll, but it did have his attention. Meanwhile the dragon was quietly flying across the pond, with a man on her back. It was a heavy load, as she was not a large dragon, and they were perilously close to the water, but they made it and landed on the island.

  The troll wrenched his gaze away from Tara. He turned.

  There was Dolin, sword drawn. “Hie, varlet!” he cried dramatically, and attacked.

  The troll, no coward, snatched up a hefty club. He swung viciously at the man. Tartan was concerned; the prince had no memory; did he have any fighting skill? And where had he gotten that sword? He had not had one hitherto.

  Dolin sidestepped the swing, closed in, and speared the troll neatly through the center. “Ouch!” the troll said, irritated. He did not seem to be seriously hurt.

  “Let the maiden go, unharmed,” Dolin said.

  For answer, the troll swung again, the club heading right for the prince’s head.

  Dolin ducked, stepped inside the swing, and pricked the troll again, this time on a foot. “I know that no single stab will stop a troll,” he said. “But each wound counts, and you will gradually lose vitality, until at last you expire. I ask you again to let the maiden go.”

  The troll’s fury doubled. He aimed a series of rapid swings at the prince’s body. But the prince avoided them all.

  “You are beginning to annoy me,” Dolin said, and stabbed the troll through an eye. “Now I ask you a third time to let the maiden go.”

  “Yeah? Or what?” the troll demanded, lifting his club for a rock-smashing blow.

  Dolin sighed. “I see you are not amenable to reason or mercy.” Then he ran his sword through the troll’s right ear so hard the point came out the left ear.

  The troll fell, e
xpiring. It seemed he had finally been tagged in a vital spot.

  Then Dolin went to Amara and quickly cut her bonds. She clambered to her feet, chafing her wrists. “That troll!” she exclaimed. “He said he was going rape me and then cook me. I don’t know which would have been worse.”

  “You are safe now,” Dolin said. “Now you may ride the dragon back to shore.”

  “That was amazing! It was as if you were only playing with him.”

  “I was trying to persuade him to be reasonable. He wouldn’t listen.”

  “Aren’t you going to make demands for rescuing me?”

  “Of course not. That would not be princely. I was merely doing the right thing.”

  The dragon approached. Bemused, Amara mounted her back, and flew across to join Tartan and Tara. Then the dragon fetched Dolin across, and changed back to human form while Tara shielded her from the men’s direct gazes. Tara herself had dressed while Dolin fought the troll. “That was impressive, Prince,” she said. “Where did you get the sword?”

  Dolin looked surprised. He no longer had the sword. “All princes have swords. It was simply there when I needed it, so I used it.”

  Amara looked around. “The group of you mounted a rescue operation. Why?”

  Tartan shrugged. “We couldn’t let you be molested and eaten by the troll.”

  “But I was nothing to you. I refused to associate with you and went my way. You had no responsibility for me.”

  “You are a human being,” Tara said. “We had to act.”

  “How did you even know I was in trouble?”

  “We followed you,” Emerald said.

  “Why?”

  “It was the right thing to do,” Dolin said. “That is my talent: to do the right thing. We did not mean to interfere with you.”

  Amara took the four of them in with a gaze of assessment. “I brushed you off, yet you mounted a coordinated mission to rescue me, with two of you distracting the troll while the other two sneaked onto the island so you could dispatch him. Thereby saving me a raping and cooking and consumption and possibly worse. Now you ask nothing in return?”

  “That is correct,” Dolin said.

  “Let him handle it,” Ted told Tartan. “He may yet persuade her.”

  Amara frowned. “Because it is the right thing to do?”