The merchant stepped into the circle, glancing around. “Welcome to join our caravan, Minstrel,” he said. “You and your girl."
"Appreciation,” Havoc and Stevia said together. They were in—not that Havoc had had any doubt of it.
"That's some hair,” the merchant remarked. “I never saw magic like that before."
"Gratitude,” Stevia said. “It is mostly illusion.” She lifted her hand, showing the gray garnet. In that manner she reassured the merchant that she was not some weird creature masquerading as a person.
The giant brown golems returned, or maybe this was a new group; it was hard to tell them apart, as they were pro forma constructs animated by magic. The three travelers were given bunk room in a covered wagon, crowded but sufficient. This was not after all a holiday cruise, but ad hoc basic transport.
"That was a very nice rendition,” Gerund remarked. “You can surely have regular caravan employment here if you desire it."
"We seek richer pastures,” Havoc said. “We will run our errand in the Blue Chroma, then return to the larger audiences of the great city."
Gerund nodded. “Rich pasture indeed. Perhaps you will achieve a royal audience."
"We hope so."
They looked out at the brown terrain passing rapidly below them. The golems were striding hugely, setting their feet in marked spots. They carried the wagon with hardly a tremor.
But after a time the travel became dull. Their incidental dialogue lapsed. Stevia turned to Gerund. “Proposition."
"Confusion,” the green man replied, surprised.
"I crave entertainment, and there is little here. Would you like to share bodies for a time?"
Gerund glanced at Havoc. “I assumed—"
"We travel together,” Havoc said. “I am committed elsewhere."
Gerund nodded. “No fault?"
"No fault,” Stevia agreed. That meant that there would be no implied commitment; it was to be a connection of the moment.
"In that case, affirmation. Desire. Your performance was evocative.” Indeed, she had come across as a lithe lush form. The Green man had seen her as she was, but had evidently been turned on by what she had made herself seem to be. This sort of thing was great for spot passion.
"I will see what else is to be seen,” Havoc said, and climbed out of the bunk space to get on top of the wagon. He was granting them privacy.
He found a spot beside the golem's great hand that held an anchor point of the wagon. “Greeting,” he said, not expecting an answer.
"Acknowledgment,” the golem responded, surprising him.
But that turned out to be the extent of its ability to communicate. It was not being animated by a living person; it was a programmed creature, doing a rote job.
Havoc sat by the hand and pondered Stevia's action. She had done a fine job in the skit, and had indeed evinced sex appeal. She was not an unattractive woman; he had simply been spoiled by the likes of Gale or the King's servants, selected for their esthetic appeal. The ordinary man would find Stevia's body attractive enough despite its imperfections. All three of them had shown each other their bodies when they washed in the morning; by the convention of traveling companions, they had taken no overt notice. But covert notice had been taken, of course; it was expected. So Gerund knew exactly what was being offered. Stevia had expressed interest in Havoc before, and he had demurred. Was she raising the ante by tackling another man in his presence? Trying to incite his own desire? Perhaps so. Did he care?
The fact was, he really didn't care. But she was the one assigned to help him by the Red Glamor, and that meant that he must need her in some more substantial manner. He would do well to avoid alienating her. Did that mean accepting her sexual interest?
Havoc didn't like being too directly steered by anyone, even a Glamor. He decided to maintain his neutrality. He would bed Stevia only if she became sexually appealing to him, not merely to maintain her cooperation. That matter decided, he felt better.
Soon he saw the edge of the Brown Chroma in the distance. Beyond it was a faint sheet of yellow. They would soon have to park and march across another interstice of low magic to get fairly into the next Chroma. The huge golems had transported them what might have been a day's foot travel, in an hour. That was why it was worth riding with a caravan.
He climbed toward the entrance to the interior. “Landing ahead,” he called, alerting the others in case they were unaware of his approach.
He paused a moment, then climbed down. They were both back in order. It was clear from Gerund's mind that they had had a most ardent and fulfilling sexual encounter. Stevia had been amazingly passionate, and in the dusk of the wagon's interior her body had seemed lithe rather than chubby. She had not been fooling about desiring such interaction with a man. The teacher had been impressed and gratified.
Neither spoke of the encounter; it was as though it had not occurred. That was the nature of no-fault; it was virtually anonymous, carrying no commitments overt or implied. But they would remember, and do it again if convenience and desire obliged.
The golems set the wagon down in the park site and departed. The foreman rented more horses to haul the wagons across the null-magic boundary between the Brown and Yellow Chromas. The three travelers got out and walked. The Green man and the Gray woman did not touch each other physically, but there was a benign mood; they had had the pleasure of each other.
There was another wait at the Yellow Chroma camp. Gerund gave another sample lesson, this time on Geography, which of course included spacial as well as planetary. “Mankind came to Charm a thousand years ago,” he told the children. “The ships that brought us sailed the space between worlds and stars. They departed and never returned, but we have prospered. This is what is termed a double star system. Vivid is the bright star, and Void the dark star. It is what we call a Black Hole: an object so dense that light does not come from it. Instead it sucks in light, and anything else that comes near. There is no return from Void."
He paused as a child raised his hand. “Like a Black Chroma volcano!” the boy said.
"Similar, perhaps,” Gerund agreed. “It is true that Black Chroma volcanoes erupt inward, drawing in their surroundings, in contrast to the other colors. We are not sure that Void operates on the same principle, but it may be.” Then he returned to the lesson. “The bright star and dark star orbit each other, and Planets Charm and Counter-Charm orbit both in what is called an ellipse. That is like a squashed circle, or an egg. For part of the year we are closer to Vivid, and that makes a hot season. For another part of the year we are closer to Void, and that makes a cold season. But not always.” He paused, inviting a response.
"When Void flares,” a child said eagerly. “Then it's burning hot!"
"Exactly. Thus we have five seasons, which we liken to the elements: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, and Void. But none are perfectly predictable, because of the irregularity of those flares. Meanwhile Charm and Counter-Charm are orbiting each other on a smaller scale, and that also affects the climate. These deviously interrelating motions and forces cause the planets to be extremely volatile—that is, they change quickly. New volcanoes are constantly appearing, and old ones fading, so that no permanent maps can be drawn. The Cartographers are constantly checking, but even they can not be certain that what they find will remain for long. Since each Chroma is magic, and the different colors of magic do not cooperate with each other, this makes for a rather confusing geography. But we do the best we can."
The lesson continued, but ended before the children became bored. Then Havoc and Stevia came on. This time Havoc played his instrument and sang standard folk songs while Stevia put on an illustrative hair show. It worked well enough, and both children and adults were satisfied.
The Yellow magicians arrived, and soon the wagons floated up above the yellow tree tops and sailed rapidly across the yellow land. This time they covered what might have taken two or three days by foot in hardly more than two hours. The travelers even caugh
t a passing glimpse of the central Yellow Chroma volcano, the source of the region's magic. It was quiescent at the moment, with only a few yellow fumes showing; had it not been, the caravan would not have been allowed to pass this close to it. Volcanoes were dangerous, for all the benefits they provided the Chroma inhabitants. Yellow specialized in Fire, so an eruption might be a phenomenal blaze.
When they landed, it was evening. The travelers shared the caravan food; that was part of what they were paying for by their performances. Then they settled down under a yellow shelter. The caravan would resume travel in the morning. They shared a blanket again, without other interaction, in the traveling convention. One no-fault episode of sex did not imply another, unless there were a longer agreement, and in any event it would not be courteous to do it in the presence of the other man Stevia was traveling with, Havoc. So they were like brothers and a sister, for this occasion.
In the morning horses appeared, and the wagons were hauled across to the next Chroma, which was Green. “This is where I get off,” Gerund said. “It has been nice traveling with you. Perhaps we shall meet again."
"Perhaps,” Havoc agreed.
"It was nice,” Stevia said. That was her only reference to the encounter the two of them had had in the Brown Chroma.
"Parting."
"Parting."
Then the green man stretched out his arms and flew into the air. He was in his natural color now, and could do magic again. Flying was his most convenient mode of travel within this region.
"Sometimes I miss my home Chroma,” Stevia said. “It was convenient being able to fly."
"I miss my home village of Trifle,” Havoc said. “That's between Chroma, but we could venture onto the fringes of three colors, and many of the plants had magic properties. We knew nothing of real magic."
"You found comfort in ignorance?"
"Yes. The Planet of Charm is far more complicated than I like."
"But there are so many advantages to magic. The way Gerund simply flew, needing no other aid—wouldn't you like to have that power for yourself?"
"No. Magic brings as much danger as convenience, and sometimes can be downright inconvenient."
"How so?"
He was supposed to tell her everything. He remained uneasy with this, but obeyed. “I am magically telepathic. That can bring me information I'd be satisfied not to know."
"Telepathic! Mind reading?"
"Mind reading,” he agreed.
"I should think that would be interesting. What information did you not want to know?"
"Like the details of your liaison with the green man."
She made a partial smile, evidently not really believing. “For example?"
"When he closed his eyes, and you made him guess which breast you were using to tickle his nose."
She nodded. “You got that from my mind?"
"No. I can't read your mind. From his mind."
She laughed. “I thought I had you there. I know you can't read my mind. No one can. I forgot that Gerund was not similarly protected. How did you, a nonChroma man, come by such magic?"
"It was actually an illness. A disease. It was incapacitating people, because all their thoughts were going out to others, and the thoughts of all others were coming in to them, like continuous shouting from all sides. But I have trained my mind, and helped my associates train theirs similarly, so that we could project or mask our thoughts and not be overwhelmed. Now it is a very useful ability."
"How can it work out of Chroma?"
"That's something I don't properly understand. I think it is that telepathy, like illusion, is very inexpensive magic, involving only thoughts, so it can operate in the trace magic between Chroma zones, and can operate within zones similarly."
"Like my illusion,” she agreed. “That does make sense. Havoc, you continue to be a font of surprises."
"Gratitude,” he said humorously, pretending it was a compliment.
"You sound almost a trifle jealous of my liaison with Gerund."
"Almost a trifle,” he agreed.
"That's progress. I will keep working on it."
In due course the caravan was ready to travel again. This time long green tentacles reached out from huge green trees and lifted the wagons into the air. They swung each wagon across to another tree, which caught it without slip or jolt, and movement was similar to what the brown golems had provided.
They sat at the front of the wagon, their feet dangling down. “I remain impressed by Chroma magic,” Havoc said, gazing out. “I remain an ignorant lout from the backwoods at heart."
"I have been out of strong magic long enough to find it refreshing,” Stevia said. “For a short while. But I think I shall soon be bored again. Why don't you sit beside me, put your arm around me, and take hold of my breast under my shirt while you gaze at the passing landscape, while I hesitate to protest lest others take note?"
"I will spare you that harassment."
There was a faint edge to her words. “It is a fair offer in the circumstance."
"You know I am committed to Gale."
"I know nothing of the kind!” she snapped. “You said you can't marry her because you both are changelings."
"Contrition,” he said, taken aback. “You are correct."
"And you know that traveling companions are default no fault. You can do anything with me we both might wish, without being untrue to your home commitment."
"Embarrassment. You are correct again."
"So at this point, failure to act becomes rejection. Is there some other diversion you would prefer?"
He was indeed being tacitly offensive, in the face of her expressed interest. “Apology. I have been spoiled, and will indulge with you in penitence."
"That's not the way I want it. Just give me a fair chance to seduce you if I can, and if not, not."
"Agreement. We shall make it a game for the leisure hours."
"Satisfaction."
He nudged closer to her, put his right arm around her body, infiltrated his hand under her shirt, and slid it across her breast, cupping it. The breast was full and warm and smooth, perfectly shaped, and it sent a continuing impulse of sexual discovery back to his body. “Actually, I think I would like to—"
"No, this is enough for now. I prefer to tantalize you."
He had to laugh. “You do want it all!"
"And I mean to get it all, in good time."
She surely would succeed. Already he was thinking of her body as voluptuous rather than chubby, as he had before seeing the whole of it naked. But one thing bothered him. “You said no fault."
"Agreement."
"But your approach suggests a desire for commitment."
"How so, when I have set a limit?"
"Immediate sex would abate the interest and allow us to separate, as was the case with you and the Green man. Instead you are engaging me in limited but progressive manner, guaranteeing a longer and more thoughtful association."
Stevia considered a moment. “Chagrin. I am a hypocrite. I do have an urge to bring you to commitment. I will disengage."
"No need. I like your breast, now that I am acquainted with it. I am willing to be led in your direction. But I do see it as a no fault relationship."
"Acquiescence. I will proffer full sex and acquittal now, in apology for being devious."
"That's not the way I want it,” he said, smiling.
She turned her face to him. “Thank you for playing it out, Havoc. I have never had a full relationship, and this provides the semblance."
"Welcome, Stevia.” Then he kissed her. The combination of her lips and her breast was potent. He also liked the way she had cooperated in the play and song skits. He would never love her in the way he did Gale, but she had become an intriguing traveling companion.
Her hair rippled liquidly. “If you do that again, I will not be responsible for the consequence."
He nodded. “We have agreed to a game, an emotional challenge. It would be a shame t
o cut it short now."
"A shame,” she agreed.
So he did not kiss her again, because it had too much effect on them both. He continued to hold her breast, and they talked of inconsequentials as the trees and vines swung them onward. Certainly Stevia had accomplished much of her objective, winning him from indifference to strong interest.
After they crossed the Green Chroma, they came to a Blue Chroma. But it was not the one Havoc sought; that was several more jumps away. So the wagons were lofted magically, and floated swiftly over the blue landscape, and the ride became dull again.
This time Stevia spread her skirt and sat on Havoc's lap, tempting him with her ample bottom. “Tell me about your prior girlfriends."
"This is supposed to be no fault,” he reminded her. “You're not my girlfriend."
"Correction: I am an ad hoc girlfriend, a term relationship, for the duration of this mission. I have a right to be possessive while it endures."
She was pushing it, but she had a case. “Briefly,” he said. “No salacious detail."
"Oh, but I want the salacious detail!"
"Negative."
"Threat: I will make you remove your trousers."
And that plush bare bottom would make short work of his resistance. It was a lover's threat, really a premature consummation. He had to yield, if he wanted to maintain the slow development. “Capitulation."
He told her about Gale, one year his junior, a lovely fellow changeling he had loved since childhood. They had played Tickle & Peek, but it had soon become academic as full love developed. But when he had gone on a public mission, and Gale had gone on a secret one, he had had to take the sixteen year old mistress of the royal bath, Bijou, instead. She had been made up to resemble Gale, and conditioned to believe she was Gale, so that others did not know that Gale was not with him.
"Aversion,” Stevia said. “That was a dirty trick to play on the girl."
"Agreement. Soon she figured it out, and was angry. Next secret mission I took her for herself, and promised her a fourth.” That was the convention that each woman had to bear three children by her husband, and at least one by another man, to maintain human diversity.
Key to Chroma Page 4
