Ghost Writer in the Sky

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Ghost Writer in the Sky Page 22

by Piers Anthony


  “I am not clear on a detail,” the Demoness Mentia said. “Maybe it’s my craziness interfering with my understanding. Why can’t Mera just change you back to your original reality?”

  “Your confusion is not crazy,” Dolin said. “It is because of those unintentional consequences. We do not know what other effects such a change might have. We do not want to get lost in yet another reality.”

  “Such as my host and friend Monica ceasing to exist,” Tara said.

  Drew looked at Monica. “I am glad to meet you, half sister. You do favor Mother.”

  “Thank you,” Monica said faintly. She had been a bold girl, but the experience of nonexistence had evidently shaken her.

  “There is also the matter of control,” Mera said. “I do not know enough about foreign realities to be sure of selecting the right one. It might be a dangerous gamble.”

  “Point taken,” Mentia said. “We demons exist everywhere and nowhere, independent of the realities. But when we breed with humans, those children are limited to the frame where it happens. Fortunately my worser self Metria did not marry elsewhere, so her son Ted remains.”

  “Nice to have that reassurance,” Ted said wryly.

  “Worser self?” Metria demanded. “You’re the worser self.”

  “So you like to suppose, halfwit.”

  “Mom! Aunt! Don’t get into a catfight here,” Ted said. “It wouldn’t be seemly.”

  “Who cares about seemly?” Metria demanded.

  “I do,” Mentia said. “But of course I’m crazy.”

  “You certainly are,” Metria agreed. “Nothing about you makes sense.”

  “Accordingly, I apologize for calling you my worser self. I’m the worser self.”

  “Thank you.” Then Metria did a double take. “But if your apology is nonsense—”

  “It certainly is,” Mentia said smugly.

  “You’re both worser selves,” Ted said quickly. “And I love both of you, and cute little Woe Betide too, pains in the posterior though you all may be at times.”

  “Well, that’s more like it,” Metria said, and Mentia nodded agreement.

  “We do need to get back to our original reality,” Dolin said. “Or in my case, to my chosen reality. I think we now appreciate why Mera is extremely cautious about exerting her power. Yet it seems we need it if we are to return. Is there any safe way?”

  “This may be irrelevant,” Bernard said. “I believe it was your favor to me, Mera, putting me into the third reality, that tweaked your own reality with its backwash. Now I want to return to my original one, because Kelei is there. Could that change be undone? Reverting us all to R#1?”

  “I’m not sure,” Mera said. “It may be like working with reverse wood: you never can be quite sure in what manner it will reverse something, and it’s not necessarily consistent.”

  “Reverse wood?” Tara asked.

  “That is a type of wood that reverses whatever it touches,” Eve explained. “A reverse wood tree growing in a love spring may convert it to a hate spring.”

  “Or to a love summer, fall, or winter,” Dawn said.

  “Or a bed spring or fall,” Mentia said. “Crazy, no?”

  “Point made, thank you all so much,” Mera said grimly. “Also, there are many realities, some very similar to their neighbors, and I still could get the wrong one.”

  “Maybe what we need is a map,” Tara said. “So that we will know exactly where to go, without question.”

  “A map!” Mera said. “Yes, that is what I need, one that shows all the adjacent realities in detail, so I can orient on precisely the right one. But I’m not sure any such map exists.”

  “It exists,” Metria said. “I learned of it one time when I sneaked into the Good Magician’s Castle. I’m insufferably curious.”

  “You’re how curious?” Mera asked.

  “Endlessly, eternally, infinitely, immeasurably, insatiably—”

  “Stop,” Mentia said. “You had it right the first time: insufferably.”

  Metria sent a dagger-shaped glare at her, but it bounced harmlessly off Mentia’s shield-shaped deflector.

  “Tell me more about the map,” Mera said. “It’s important.”

  “It’s actually several pages long,” Metria said. “One for each reality. They are all bound into the Book of Lost Answers.”

  “Is that any relation to the Good Magician’s Book of Answers?” Eve asked.

  “Yes, in a manner. When he gets confused and loses an Answer, it winds up in Lost Answers, a book that mostly writes itself. So that’s where the maps of realities wound up.”

  “So can I go to the Good Magician for it?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the Book itself is lost.”

  “Lost?”

  “Tell her, you tease,” Mentia said.

  “Lost answers tend to spoil after a while, and the book makes things near it spoil,” Metria said. “The Good Magician’s wives couldn’t stand to have their food spoil before they used it, so the Book disappeared and hasn’t been seen or smelled again in some time.”

  “One of them hid it?”

  The demoness smiled. “I doubt that any of them would admit to doing that.”

  “But I need that Book!”

  “Maybe you could ask them. Lotsa luck.”

  Mera looked so frustrated that Tartan changed the subject for the moment, so that she could cool off and let the steam dissipate. “Something that confuses me: Drew, you just met Jody. How can you be sure she’s right for you, long term?”

  “I’m sure,” Drew said.

  “She may be a really nice girl. But surely it takes time to truly be sure.”

  “I will answer that,” Mentia said. “This is Xanth, where things that are crazy in Mundania, like perfect lasting love at first sight, are valid. We don’t have the patience for a long, slow, dull acquaintance and verification that the basics are correct. To us, romance is all hearts and storks.”

  “But—”

  “And it works,” she continued inexorably. “Your quaint Mundane custom of divorce does not exist in Xanth. Couples stay together in love and fulfillment until at last they fade out. Marriages of convenience may exist, as was the case with Magician Trent and Sorceress Iris, but they tend to become genuinely loving, as was also the case with them. Only in Mundania does the initial attraction of stork appeal wear off, leaving alienated partners. It never happens in Xanth; couples remain loving as long as they both do live, and often beyond that, as is the case with the wives of Good Magician Humfrey.” She smiled briefly. “Awkward as it was for him to have them all returned to him from death, simultaneously. They do still love him, grumpy and opaque as he is, and he loves them. Even Metria, devious as she is, has remained with the man she married, as Ted can tell you. Yes, she flirts with and teases other men, but won’t actually deliver; I am the one to do that, as I am not married. So Drew and Jody, having discovered each other with a little help from Princess Ida, knew the moment they kissed and the little hearts flew out that this is their love. Had it not been so, there would have been no hearts. The hearts don’t lie. Bernard and Kelei know it too, assuming they can get together in R#1. So yes, they are sure, in a way you poor Mundanes can never be, because you lack the magic.”

  “But these meetings have been largely chance,” Tara said. “Suppose Drew had met some other girl first, like maybe Kelei? Would she have been frozen out, because the hearts were holding out for Jody?”

  “No, there are many possibilities for couple formation,” Mentia said. “But once a match is made it is like striking a fire: it burns regardless of the fuel and may not be put out. The myriad possibilities condense into one, and that one endures, like your quantum physics.”

  “I wish it were that way in Mundania,” Tara said. “In t
he macro world as well as the micro realm.”

  “It does happen there on occasion, as you discovered with Tartan.”

  “True,” Tara agreed thoughtfully.

  “This is amazing,” Tartan said. “How is it that you, D. Mentia, with a reputation for being a little crazy, are coming across as so completely sane?”

  The demoness laughed. “The situation is a little crazy, with folk from several realities coming compatibly together in a sauna. When things get normal again, then I’ll be the contrast. Then I can return to doing slightly crazy things, like flashing my panties at the pool and curdling the water.” She stood, hoisted her skirt, and flashed the pool. The water curdled.

  Mera took the floor again. “So we need to find the Book of Lost Answers. Does anyone have any notion of where a wife might have hidden it?”

  “That would depend on the reality, I should think,” Drew said. “Different realities would bring different forces to bear, causing different decisions.”

  “Reality Number One,” Bernard said. “That is where Kelei lives, and where I want to return.”

  “Where several of us want to return,” Emerald said. “My business is there, certainly.”

  “The business you don’t want to accomplish there,” Metria said. “Marrying a prince.”

  “Oh, I’ll accomplish it, somehow. I just wish I could do it happily.”

  “Could you marry Prince Dolin, and each do your separate things without interference by the other?” Drew asked.

  “We may have to. But this would violate the theme of instant true love in Xanth, which Mentia has just so eloquently defined. We are friends, not natural lovers. It would leave both of us frustrated, especially when it comes to the ellipsis and the stork. We have to hope that there is some better alternative before we give up and settle for each other.”

  “Yet you have kissed.”

  “We’ll kiss again, if you wish. We do like each other, and are marvelously compatible, but you will see no radiating little hearts.” Dolin nodded agreement.

  Drew shook his head. “I see merely sadness.”

  “Where is the Book of Lost Answers in Reality Number One?” Mera asked firmly. One might almost suspect that she was growing just a mite or two tired of these diversions from the subject.

  “I fear we face an impasse,” Bernard said. “We must return to R#1 in order to question the wives, about the location of the Lost Book of Magic, but we must have the Book and Map before we do, lest we find ourselves in the wrong reality regardless.”

  “I don’t much like such impasses,” Drew said.

  “I have a wild idea,” Mentia said. “Why don’t we go out and join the children in their snowball fight, without putting on our outdoor clothing?”

  Tartan looked at her, his eyes trying to penetrate the strategically clinging wisps of vapor despite knowing better. It was as though the eyes wanted to get freaked out, crazy as that was. “That is utterly crazy. Therefore in this crazy context, it has to make some kind of sense. What is the sense of it?”

  “That we will soon be freezing cold and miserable,” Mentia said. “If we refuse to quit until someone comes up with a viable answer, that will be a remarkable inducement to find that answer promptly.”

  A glance circled the pool, then crossed it several times, avoiding the floating curds. Then without speaking, they got up and filed out the doorway.

  Outside, the fight was going strong. The two half-skeleton children were in their skeletal forms, making them immune to the cold. Piton and Woe Betide had a small fortress of blue snow and were popping up to hurl snowballs at Plato and Data’s fort. The sides seemed to be about even, and neither had a decisive advantage. Tata Dogfish was running back and forth between them, as if carrying messages to the warring parties.

  The fight broke up when they saw the new adults. “Come fight with us!” Woe called.

  The three adults, Dolph, Electra, and Nada Naga, were standing a bit apart, watching to make sure that no one got hurt. Taplin joined them. They looked across as the others boiled out of the sauna. “Have you worked it out?” Dolph called.

  “Not yet, father,” Drew called back.

  “But we’re working on it,” Dolin called.

  “Put on some clothing!” Electra called. “You’ll catch your death of cold!”

  “That’s the idea, Mother,” Dawn called.

  “What idea? To freeze to death?”

  “To encourage us to get the idea we need,” Eve called.

  Baffled, Electra looked at the other wives, but Nada Naga was similarly perplexed. Then Taplin explained the demoness’s rationale, and they nodded.

  “New sides,” Plato called. “Boys against girls!”

  “Yeah!” the girls chorused.

  Another look circulated. “Why not?” Eve asked. “The boys are bigger and stronger, but we have more girls.”

  So it was agreed. The two sides lined up, with Dolin, Drew, Bernard, Tartan, Ted, Plato, Piton, and Tata on one side, Dawn, Eve, Tara, Monica, Emerald, Amara, Isis, Mera, Metria, Mentia, Woe Betide, Jody, Kelei, Zosi, and Data on the other. The elders Dolph, Electra, Nada, and Taplin remained neutral, on the sideline. The adults remained in their sauna outfits, while the children remained bundled against the cold.

  “Nobody crosses the line,” Dolph called. “Stay on your own sides.

  “On your mark,” Taplin called.

  “Get set,” Electra called.

  “Go!” Nada called.

  With that the men stooped to sweep up snow to make blue snowballs. The women stooped similarly, but the effect was rather different, because that position provided the men glimpses into their lowered bras. Even the wisps of steam could not prevail against that, and the five grown men froze in a freak. The women fetched up their snow, made snowballs, and hurled them at the men, scoring on their heads.

  That snapped the men out of it. “Don’t look directly at their bodies,” Drew advised. “Hold your fire a moment. Then aim just below their heads.”

  The women bent down again to make new snowballs. “Fire!” Drew cried.

  The men threw their snowballs accurately into the exposed bras, catching several of the women.

  “Eeeee!!” the women screamed in unison, scrambling to shake the snow out. This put the men back into freak mode. Woe and Data tittered, enjoying both sides of the mischances, and Tata woofed.

  “Oh, not again,” Plato cried, disgusted. “Snap out of it, men!”

  This exhortation succeeded, and the men were able to make more snowballs. But the women were learning. This time they faced away from the men as they bent over to fetch their snow. Again the remaining wisps of vapor tried to mask the display, but again they failed. There were simply too many tight panties to cover. And again the women scored on the men. Even the snow was not enough to abolish such a massive panty freak.

  “Wake!” Plato and Piton cried together, snapping them out of it.

  The women turned away and bent over again. This time the men scored on their bottoms, and some of the snow got inside. “EEEEE!”

  At which point the melee dissolved into shivery laughter. Several couples came together, hugging and kissing, to the children’s immense disgust. Tartan was with Tara, finding her kisses just as satisfying here on Ptero as they were in Mundania.

  “I may have the answer,” Amara said. She of course was not occupied with a man.

  All paused in their exertions. “Yes?” Dolin asked, as he was not occupied with a woman.

  “Get back in the Sauna and I’ll explain.”

  They were happy to oblige. Soon the entire throng was back in the sauna, elders and children included, happily thawing in the steam.

  “What is your answer, Amara?” Mera asked.

  “It is deceptively simple, which may be why we couldn’t think of it before. We thought we had t
o go to R#1 to find the Lost Book of Answers, but we need the Book to find R#1 for sure. But this is a false dichotomy.”

  “False? Where is the falsity?”

  “We don’t need to go to R#1 first. We can do it from R#3, where we are now. As far as we know, the Good Magician is in all realities, as is Princess Ida. He is surely in #3, along with the wives.”

  “He is,” Drew said.

  “So we can return to our bodies in R#3 and go see the Good Magician.”

  “No,” Drew said.

  “No?” Amara asked.

  “You must go see the wives. They are the ones who know where the Book is hidden. The Good Magician is out of that loop.”

  Amara nodded. “Oh. Yes, of course. But the point remains: we can locate the Book in R#3. And use it to find our way to R#1. No?” She sent out a circulating glance.

  The others nodded as the glance intersected them. She had indeed come up with the answer. “Oh, I could kiss you,” Mera said.

  “Please don’t.”

  They all laughed.

  “Now all we have to do is struggle through the comic strip and maybe the storm to return to our point of departure,” Tara said.

  “Not at all,” Drew said. “This is Ptero. We had to travel to reach Aunt Ida, but now that we’re through, we can return to reality from here. Remember, this world seems to be the size of a child’s ball, from a reality.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know,” Tara said. “That’s a relief.”

  “So let’s make our farewells to our charming sisters from R#1, and to Kelei for now,” Drew concluded. “With reasonable fortune, you will be rejoining them soon, and Bernard will rejoin his love.”

  “Yes!” Bernard agreed fervently.

  “Um, just how do we do it?” Tara asked. “I mean, returning?”

  “Merely let go of your condensation and allow yourself to dissolve back into your spirit. It will find its way back to your host.”

  They bid their farewells, and let go. They dissolved into vapor and floated up off the surface of Ptero. Soon they were far above the world, and the larger reality came into sight: their giant bodies, sitting motionless in Princess Ida’s room.

 

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