Key to Chroma

by Piers Anthony

  "Oh, I'm sorry! I'll take it out."

  "No, leave it. I'll save the kiss for another time."

  "See that you do.” She tried to kiss him, but was similarly balked. She laughed. “Just think, a girl could protect herself from rape, depending where she carried it."

  Throe forced a frown. “All you have to do is say no. I do not think of it as rape."

  She punched him on the shoulder. “You're not a brigand. Of course I don't need to be concerned, as long as girls like Bijou are around."

  "Brigands are foolish. If they had any sense, they'd go for you first. You're much better than a young thing."

  "Thank you so much. That gives me so much extra confidence to go out into the wilds."

  Laughing, they made their way back along the passage. Soon they came to the sphinx's chamber. You were successful. It wasn't a question.

  "She has the loom,” Throe agreed. “She tamed it, and it is hers, for now."

  Return it when done.

  "I'll have to make another trip?” Ennui asked, alarmed.

  "The use of the loom may not finish soon,” the Black Glamor said. Then he remanifested as Jamais Vu. “It has been satisfactory,” he told Orange.

  Then sphinx sent a thought of acknowledgment.

  They walked to the cave entrance beneath the lake. Ennui hesitated. “I am not sure I can swim that well. The descent was swift and assisted; the ascent will require more endurance than I possess."

  "There will not be a problem,” Jamais said.

  She remained dubious, but there seemed to be no alternative. Jamais plunged into the water and swam out.

  "I will follow you,” Throe said. “If you get in trouble, I will bring you out."

  She smiled weakly. “You had better. Drowned women don't make good playmates.” Then she took a breath and splashed into the water.

  Throe followed in a moment—and found her swimming strongly, smiling. Feeling better? he queried her in thought.

  The loom—the magic loom—it is giving me strength. I don't need to breathe, and my arms are strong. I feel wonderful.

  Don't push it, he warned. It may be more apparent than real.

  It is real. It is also magic. She stroked upward so powerfully that he was hard put to it to keep up.

  They reached the surface, where Throe gasped for breath. Ennui did not. She treaded water, waiting for him, then paced him effortlessly as he swam to the cabin by the shore.

  Jamais was there ahead of them. “The threads and similar artifacts lend powers like those of Glamors,” he said as they entered the house.

  "The Air Chroma millipede didn't,” Throe said.

  "You did not invoke it."

  "You mean I could have had a much easier return trip from the Air cone? Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I was not supposed to know, and it would not have been wise to advertise its presence."

  Surely true, unfortunately.

  "We will return in the morning, not far distant. Rest.” Jamais faded from view.

  "Are we alone?” Ennui asked.

  "There's no telling. Does it matter?"

  "Yes. Get naked with me."

  Throe decided that they were probably alone. He got out of his wet suit as Ennui got lithely out of hers. The magical effect of the loom was continuing; she looked a decade younger than she had been, and the smoldering glance she shot at him was ageless.

  They got together on the bed. “You know I can't kiss you,” he reminded her.

  "No need.” She clasped him ardently, pressing against him. He had had younger lovers recently, but in this dim light Ennui was giving away nothing to them.

  "Nothing at all,” she agreed squeezing her breasts against him as she drew him in. “Except a kiss.” Her whole body was vibrant with energy. In a moment he was climaxing inside her.

  He relaxed, but she did not. “You can do better than that,” she said.

  "That was quite enough,” he said. “It was great."

  "I will show you great.” She squirmed around, putting her face near his crotch. He felt the almost magnetic interaction as her mouth got close, as the loom exerted itself. But this time it did not push him away so much as it activated him. His spent erection reversed course and became strong again.

  The magic of the loom was restoring his virility! She was lending him that part of its power. When it was complete she straightened out and bestrode him, bringing him into her again. And again he climaxed, as powerfully as before. This time she climaxed with him. He had not realized that she had not done so before. That was why she had refused to let him go; she was demanding her share. And what a share it was! Her pulses continued after his faded, rhythmically kneading him, extending his own pleasure beyond its normal conclusion. It was a marvelous finale.

  He pondered this new attitude of hers. It was unlike her, but he liked it; if she had a fault, it was lack of assertiveness, though she had been learning it as the king's secretary. It was of course the effect of the loom, invigorating her spirit as well as her body, making her all the woman she could be. When she gave up the loom, she would surely revert, but perhaps she would retain some vigor.

  "How long can you keep that loom?” he asked as they both relaxed.

  "I don't know. That's why I mean to make the most of it while I have it."

  "But we should rest, at least for a while."

  "Awwww,” she said, mimicking a child. He had to laugh.

  But soon it was dawn, and they had to dress in their regular clothing and make ready for the return trip.

  Jamais reappeared. They did not inquire where he had been, but Throe hoped it had been far away on Glamor business.

  They walked away from the lake, and around to the ferry station. No one paid them any attention, which was exactly the way they wanted it. They were just three travelers of indifferent aspect. The storm had passed, but evidence of its visit remained; there were piles of debris, and a number of the houses had suffered. Business seemed to be reverting to normal; wagons piled with vegetables were on the road, heading for the city.

  In due course the ferry delivered them to Triumph City. Throe was more impressed with it, now that he had seen its nether hull. It was not just floating there; it had to be maintained, and dedicated crews had to do the maintenance, which could be arduous or dangerous. The king might rule, but there was a substantial infrastructure that was just as necessary in its fashion.

  They walked down to the lowest floor and reported to Patches. He was in the drying hold with Bijou, and looked quite satisfied. “Back already? Stay away another year!” he exclaimed.

  Bijou smiled, but mentally she was glad to see them back. Patches was a good man, but she had been spoiled by a king.

  They ate a good meal, used the privy, got bunks and slept, catching up on the rest of the night they had missed. Bijou continued to entertain Patches, doing her job. The man would never complain; he knew she was paying him for covering for their absence, no fault, and it was a great deal for him.

  When the hold was seasoned, as Patches put it, they got to work on the hull repair. This involved splicing stout replacement beams into the cut ends of the damaged ones, and bracing them in triangular patterns so that the repair would be as durable as the original hull. The work was precise rather than heavy, but Patches knew exactly what he was doing, and they had no trouble following his directives. In two days it was complete, and the hold was ready for use.

  "It's done,” Patches said at the close of the second day. “You were a good crew; my apology for doubting you. I'll get my regular one back tomorrow. You are free to go, with my thanks, and the knowledge that you have helped secure the integrity of the city.” But they read a certain regret in his mind.

  "Let's stay the night, just to be sure,” Throe said, picking up on the Black Glamor's signal. “I'd like to meet the regular crew as we go."

  "Welcome!” Because this meant that Bijou would remain in his bed one more night, extending the no fault delight. Her own thoug
hts indicated that Patches was a decent man and a fair lover; she had a certain joy of bringing so much pleasure to another person, even though she was slightly smitten by the Black Glamor.

  The Black Glamor had allowed the extension because Havoc's party was not yet back from its excursion, so there was no immediate need for the loom. They could spare the time, and it allowed them to get fully rested before resuming their official lives. But Throe was as delighted as Patches, because this also meant that Ennui would have the loom longer. She was an absolute joy, buoyed by its power.

  "But soon I'll be without it, my normal dull self,” she reminded him.

  "But at least I'll be able to kiss you again."

  "Poor thing, having to settle for the other end of me for so long.” She brought that end into play, delightfully.

  "It has been a chore,” he agreed.

  "And you always were a glutton for chores."

  "Always."

  "Like that Air Chroma girl you brought back. What's-her-name the sorceress."

  "In darkness, I can hardly tell you apart.” The odd thing was, it was true; Ennui felt young and vibrant against him.

  "Those objects—the threads—they must be aspects of the Glamors,” she said. “So association with them lends some Glamor properties."

  "Evidently so,” he agreed.

  "I sought adventure and love. Now I am having both. It is glorious."

  "I sought neither, but found both."

  They completed their embrace and settled into sleep. Throe realized that Ennui was right: despite its problems, they had found an ideal life.

  In the morning they met the returning regular crew: two moderately young men with their wives. The regulars inspected the job and nodded; it had indeed been well enough done. They glanced at Bijou, quickly assessing her relationship with Patches, and nodded again.

  The four of them returned to the upper floors. As they approached the palace section, Bijou turned to Jamais with a muted mental question. He shook his head. “A mortal is generally unable to do it knowingly with a Glamor."

  "I would risk it,” she said. “I covered for you."

  "Caution,” Throe murmured.

  But she knew that her association with the Black Glamor was ending. “I made Patches happy, hoping that you would make me happy."

  "Compromise?” Ennui asked, sensitive to the girl's need. “A kiss?"

  "Granted.” Jamais took Bijou in his arms and kissed her, briefly.

  Throe jumped forward to catch her before she fell. She had fainted.

  "Regret,” Jamais said as he faded out.

  Throe carried the girl on into his chamber as Ennui opened the door. He laid her carefully on his bed. She remained blissfully unconscious.

  "What happened?"

  Throe and Ennui both jumped as they spied what they had overlooked in their concern for Bijou: a solid man in a wheeled chair, followed by a nondescript woman.

  "Our emulations!” Ennui exclaimed, remembering.

  Of course. Chief and the Lady Aspect, garbed as Throe and Ennui. “Apology,” Throe said, embarrassed. “We were distracted."

  "Evident,” the Lady Aspect said. “Injured?"

  "Negation,” Ennui said. “She—she kissed a Glamor."

  Chief nodded. “We had news that someone did a phenomenal Vivid and Void dance, with the man Void."

  "That was Bijou,” Throe agreed. “And the Black Glamor. He turned out to be a remarkable person. She—she was smitten, and asked to be with him. Instead he kissed her."

  "She should survive that,” the Lady Aspect said.

  "I thought the sexual effect of the Glamors was folklore,” Chief said.

  "It's not folklore,” Ennui said. “I felt her awareness overload."

  "It makes sense, in its fashion,” Throe agreed. “The loom makes it impossible to kiss you, but if it were possible, it might be lethal. There is just too much power there."

  "You fetched the loom?” the Lady Aspect inquired.

  "Agreement,” Throe said. “Ennui carries it in her mouth."

  Chief got out of the chair and began changing clothing. “This I would appreciate witnessing."

  "Endorsement,” the Lady Aspect agreed, similarly changing. Neither seemed concerned about bodily exposure as they stripped and went to the closet. Throe wondered just how far their emulation of the two travelers had gone.

  Ennui fetched a cloth and wiped off the girl's face. “He said all the ones going after the threads are protected by Glamors. That means Gale and Symbol also. Do you suppose—?"

  "That cartographer—and that Amazon?” Throe asked. “That is hard to believe."

  She nodded. “Yet it may be so. If so, this could get very interesting when the other party returns."

  "This adventure is not yet over."

  "Indeed, it seems to be forging rapidly onward,” Chief said, now looking more like himself.

  Bijou stirred. “What happened?” she asked.

  "The Black Glamor kissed you,” Ennui said.

  "I remember! I thought I went to paradise. But—"

  "That was all,” Ennui said. “You passed out."

  The girl sighed. “So he was right. I couldn't have had sex with him."

  "Not knowingly. Apparently it is possible if a person does not know the other is a Glamor."

  "That's weird.” Bijou sat up. “Oh!” She had spied Chief and the Lady Aspect, the latter just stripping away the cloth binding that had caused her bosom to lie more flatly, emulating Ennui's more modest proportions.

  "We will be departing shortly, dear,” the Lady said. She turned to Ennui. “May we see the loom?"

  Ennui was startled. She looked at Throe. “May they? They did run interference for us so we could get it."

  "We need to know whether it is operative, here in the palace,” Throe said. “Let's find out."

  Ennui put her fingers in her mouth and brought out the miniature loom.

  Bijou stared. “That's it? It looks like a toy."

  "Agreement,” the Lady Aspect said.

  Ennui set it on the floor and stepped back. The loom remained there, a tiny model.

  "Doubt,” Chief said. “No offense."

  "Try invoking it,” Throe suggested.

  "Loom, restore,” Ennui said uncertainly.

  Suddenly the full-size loom was there, complete with the tapestry saying LOVE. Around it were the skeins of colored yarn, exactly as they had been in the cave. It seemed that they were part of the package.

  "Doubt abated,” Chief said, staring at it. “This is indeed formidable magic."

  "And a formidable instrument,” the Lady Aspect said. “I have never seen a more elaborate loom, magic aside."

  "Amazement,” Bijou breathed. “How does it work? I mean, with only seven little threads."

  Throe exchanged a glance with Ennui. Neither of them had any idea. The available yarn could make the warp and weft, but that was merely supportive; the magic ikons had to make the actual design.

  "The Glamors will know,” Throe said. But there did seem to be something missing.

  Chapter 9—Star

  Symbol shook her head as they rode the ferry. “Only one thing I'm sorry about."

  Gale smiled. “That it wasn't the two of us having at Havoc, instead of Stevia and Ine?"

  "That, too, of course. But at the moment I'm thinking of Throe."

  "Throe! You're right. He lost his feet, saving me."

  "He's a good man. I don't mind losing him to Ennui, since I love Havoc anyway, but I hate turning him over in that condition."

  "You turned him over before that. I'm the one responsible."

  "Pointless debate. Let's go see him first."

  "Agreement."

  They made their way to the upper levels of the city. The other members of the party were traveling separately, so as not to call attention to the nature of the mission. As far as they knew, they were the first to reenter Triumph.

  Throe and Ennui met them at the palace entrance.
“Did you fetch it?” Ennui asked.

  "Yes,” Symbol said. Then, after a moment, she did a double-take. “Throe! You're standing!"

  "I'm standing,” he agreed.

  "But your feet!"

  "I have new feet."

  "New? Incredulity!"

  "I gave him mine,” Ennui explained.

  Symbol laughed, but then the two of them removed their shoes and stood beside each other with identical feet. “The Black Glamor came,” Throe said. “He required me for a mission, so he fixed my feet, modeling them on Ennui's."

  "Another mission?” Gale asked blankly.

  "You fetched the last thread. We fetched the means to weave those threads."

  "Threads?” Symbol asked blankly.

  "The objects you located are actually threads. They require a loom."

  "A loom!” Symbol exclaimed. “Magic?"

  "So it seems.” Ennui seemed somewhat smug. She also looked younger and healthier. Something had changed her.

  "Where is it?” Gale asked. Then, evidently reading Ennui's mind: “Astonishment!"

  "She carries it in her mouth,” Throe said. “It miniaturizes for her. Others can't touch it."

  Symbol shook her head. “We thought we'd be bringing news to you; instead you have it for us."

  "That surprised us too,” Ennui said. “I never expected to have adventure on my own."

  "You look the better for it! What makes you so vibrant?"

  Throe answered. “You know the way the threads—the ikons have magic of their own? So does the loom. It affects the one carrying it."

  "They have enormous power,” Gale agreed. She turned to Symbol. “I'm worn. I'm ready for a ludicrous bubble bath."

  "Endorsement!” They bid temporary parting and headed for the royal bath.

  When they were alone, Gale mentioned something else. “Ennui's thoughts were complicated. She wasn't trying to conceal them from me, but it was hard to assimilate them while we talked. Apparently they encountered a sphinx, and the Black Glamor said that each person who went for an object was guarded by a Glamor."

  "Ludicrous!” But then she reconsidered. “We have been on Glamor business. They might want to make sure we got it done."

  "I suspect we have surprises coming."