The Dastard (11 page)

He didn't trust this at all. The Sea Hag had Xanth's worst reputation. She was cunning and unscrupulous and bloodthirsty. How could she be trusted? He backed away. “Aren't you mad at me for unhappening your prior body?”

“Well I was, my pet. But I decided to investigate, both in the memory of this naïve child and in observation of you, and I have concluded that you are my type of man. That is to say, cunning and unscrupulous and with a taste for panties. Together we can do a great deal of mischief.” She advanced on him.

There was a certain aptness in her reasoning. But the Dastard had always worked alone, and was wary of joining forces with anyone, let alone a crone like this. The Sea Hag was no cute young thing, regardless of the body she occupied; she was centuries old. That bothered him as much as anything: the fact that she had so much age and experience, making him a child by comparison. “No. Go away.”

Still she advanced. “Oh, come on, my pet. I have none of the restrictions this girl had, and I have considerable experience. I can give you encounters such as you never before imagined. Here; I will show you.” She turned around and hitched up her skirt.

The Dastard slid into limbo before the panties showed. He knew that such a sight, when he was unprepared, would freak him out and leave him helpless as long as the view remained. Then what would she do? It could be anything, including getting his head chopped off.

So it was better to be rid of her, however tempting her present body might be. Oh, when properly braced, he could see her panties and not be freaked out, so that wasn't a long-term issue. But he could never trust her disreputable mind. She knew too much and was too cynical, and would never be in his thrall. He needed a real girl--or a real princess.

It was better to unhappen her again. He could do so, because it postdated his last unhappening of the girl Becka; he would not be treading on his own tracks. So he went back to the time the Hag must have taken over the girl--and hesitated. Had it been then, or could she have done it earlier, and taken a while to give any sign? It could have happened any time after he had unhappened Ann Arky.

Also, how could he stop a spirit from infusing the girl? He couldn't see it, and a simple change of direction or paths wouldn't suffice. He had to not only unhappen it, but fix it so the Hag couldn't take the girl again later.

A moment's thought yielded an answer: there was a herb that repelled loose spirits. He could fetch some of that and put it on her after he unhappened the takeover. That would make her safe.

He slid to a patch of spirit herbs and picked several good ones. He tied them together with vine, making a clumsy necklace. Then he slid to the point right after dealing with Ann Arky. There stood Becka in all her innocence. She thought that her ability to turn dragon protected her from any threat; how little she knew!

He put the necklace over her head. “Never take this off,” he told her urgently. “I'll explain tomorrow.” Then he slid back to the present; he never remained longer in the past than he had to, as it became wearing.

In the present, Becka stared at him. “The Sea Hag!” she gasped. “She had me! I couldn't escape. But now she's gone.”

“I unhappened her takeover of you,” he said. “But you must always wear those herbs, to keep her away.”

“I will! Oh, it was utterly horrible. I tried to resist, but she made me hurt until I couldn't stand it. She ransacked my memory, she used my body--she was merciless.”

“You remember it all?” He still wasn't quite used to her ability to remember unhappened things.

“I wish I could forget! Oh, thank you for rescuing me!”

“You're welcome. Now will you show me your--”

“No!”

That was, oddly, the correct answer. It meant it really was Becka, and not the Sea Hag pretending to be her. “What did she plan for me?”

Becka grimaced as she remembered. “She was going to--to give you my body, not because she wanted to please you, but because she wanted to control you. If it didn't work, she was going to kill you and look for a man she could control. She has no use for men, except to the extent she can make them do her will.”

“That's what I thought. Keep wearing those herbs, so she can't get you again. She evidently likes your body.”

“Yes. It was horrible. Her thoughts--she vaulted me right past the Adult Conspiracy in sickening detail. She's had so much experience, so ugly--she's worse than you are.”

“That's why I unhappened her possession of you. I want an innocent girl, not a creature like her.”

“I'm a whole lot less innocent than I was a day ago--but I'll never be like her.” She clutched the herbs. “I'll never give these up.”

They walked on. An outsider might have thought that nothing had happened. How wrong that impression would be!

“Will she come again?” Becka asked. “I mean, will she take some other poor girl's body, and look for us? To get back at us for balking her?”

That was an excellent question. “I think she will,” the Dastard said. “She will be angry. Different as you and I are, I think we must do our best to guard against that.”

The girl shuddered. “Yes.”

Melody touched fingers with her four-year-old younger self. Mel Junior was certainly a cute child, in her green dress and hair, looking much like Melody herself when she traveled to From on Ptero and became five years old. In fact she looked much like Harmony and Rhythm at that age too, but not quite the same; they were said to be fraternal triplets rather than identical. That had never made much sense to her, because obviously they were sisters, not brothers. At any rate, the little ones did look almost alike, and would have been hard to tell apart without their distinguishing colors. Melody remembered a game they sometimes played, calling each other Greenie, or Brownie, or Reddie, for their hair. If the little princesses were to color their hair the same and wear matching dresses, only their eyes would give them away.

She glanced to the side. Sim Bird was touching wingtips with his junior Self too, and there the contrast was startling. Sim was the size of a roc, though he wasn't exactly a roc, while his younger self was the size of a human person. He was the prettiest bird in Xanth or Ptero, because of his iridescence, but was also uncommonly intelligent, and a pleasant companion. She was glad he was coming along on this mission, and not just because he would make travel easy. Oh, of course they could always conjure a floating carpet, but then they had to agree on its color, and tell it where to go, and it could attract the attention of Cumulo Fracto Nimbus, the worst of clouds, who would try to blow them away, and then they would have to put a magical diaper on Fracto's soggy bottom, and the war would be on. So it was easiest to let Sim handle travel, now that they had something serious to do.

Mel Junior giggled soundlessly. She must have picked up the image of Fracto in a diaper, firing off enraged thunderbolts. Melody Senior smiled; teasing the cantankerous cloud was fun.

They turned around, in their little dance of passage, and separated. They floated on toward Xanth. The vague background gradually formed into a monstrous chamber, which became a huge chamber, and then a large chamber, then an ordinary one, and finally a small one. On the way, Sim diverged, flying away from them and out a window. She knew why: He would not be able to fit in a small interior chamber when he expanded to full size. He would have to settle outside the castle.

They touched the floor and caught their balance. There was Aunt Ida, looking more like age thirty-one than the forty-eight she had been when they left her on Ptero. “Hello, nieces,” she said.

“Hello, Aunt Ida,” they said almost together.

“You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” Melody said graciously. Of course nobody that age could truly be beautiful, but part of the Adult Conspiracy was to be sincerely insincere.

“Have you been properly briefed on the nature of this mission?”

“Not yet,” Harmony said. “We just understand that it's important, and that our mature talents are needed.”

“Yes. There is a man called the Dastard who is going around unhappening events. That is, he travels back in time to cause something not to happen. This might be beneficial, but in his case it is not; he seems to be mean-spirited, and causes nice encounters not to happen. We fear he will progress to truly dastardly things that will imperil the welfare of Xanth, so we feel he must be stopped.”

“Beneficial?” Rhythm asked. “How could it ever be good?”

“If a person fell over a cliff and died, it would be good to unhappen that,” Ida said. “If she ate too much humble pie and went into a depression, an unhappening would help. Or if she encountered a bad man who--”

“We understand,” Melody said quickly. “There are bad events we can't always anticipate.”

“So this man could do much good, if he wanted to,” Harmony added.

“But he doesn't want to,” Rhythm concluded.

“Exactly,” Ida said. “The three little princesses saw him doing a dastardly unhappening, and prevailed on their parents to let them tackle it, as they have formidable magic when they put their cute heads together. But it was felt that however apt they are today, they will be far better in their maturity, and there are also certain complications like the Adult Conspiracy that would limit their comprehension. So Magician Humfrey arranged for them to exchange with you, trusting that you three big Princesses would have the power of magic and social maturity to handle what may turn out to be a rather difficult and possibly unpleasant challenge.”

The three nodded. “We hope our little selves enjoy their visit to our realm,” Melody said.

“We shall do our very best to nullify the Dastard,” Harmony agreed.

“And make Xanth safe for your future,” Rhythm concluded.

Ida smiled in that manner that politely suggested that they were still four years old in her view. “Now there are certain restraints. For one thing, we shall need to keep this exchange secret.”

“We love secrets!” Melody said.

“Especially when they are ours,” Harmony agreed.

“But why should we conceal our exchange?” Rhythm wanted to know.

“Because if the Dastard discovers what we are up to, he will do his best to unhappen it,” Ida said.

“But he can't do that,” Melody said.

“And if he could, he wouldn't dare,” Harmony added.

“Because we're princesses,” Rhythm finished.

Ida shook her head grimly. “When we learned of this matter, your mother and I were concerned for the welfare of the little princesses and for yours too, of course. So Ivy and I went to the Magic Tapestry and did a Search on changed events. We discovered that the man who might have come to marry me encountered the Dastard, and that forthcoming encounter was unhappened. Now of course I can look up that man if I wish, and I may do so, in due course; it is not easy to truly interfere with a Sorceress. But this suggests that the Dastard does not necessarily hesitate to interfere with the lives of princesses. Precisely how he could unhappen this exchange of the three of you we aren't sure, but we prefer to keep the matter private so that he never thinks to try.”

The three big princesses were sobered. If the man could interfere with Princess Ida, there might be no limit to his dastardliness. His talent seemed to approach Magician level, and Magicians were almost as difficult to deal with as Sorceresses.

There was a knock on the door. Ida walked across the chamber and opened it. There were Magician Grey and Sorceress Ivy, looking barely a decade older than the princesses. “My how you've grown!” Ivy said with a smile.

Melody broke free of her stasis. “Mother!” she cried, flinging herself across to hug Ivy. She was her mother's daughter, even if her mother had rejuvenated by seventeen years. Their hair and eyes still matched.

Harmony launched herself at Grey Murphy. “Father!” She was her father's daughter, as the hair and eyes signified.

That left no one for Rhythm, so she hugged Aunt Ida. They didn't quite match, but she was still a wonderful aunt. Of course they had seen their parents and aunt at this age on Ptero, but only when the three princesses themselves were much younger, because everyone's age changed with the geography. So this was different. Anyway, it was fun hugging people.

Then two swirls of smoke appeared. One clarified into a lovely woman holding a little boy, and the other into a handsome man holding a little girl. The demons were arriving.

“These are Metria with Demon Ted,” Ida said. “And D. Vore with DeMonica. They will be helping to keep the secret.”

The little half demons were just as cute as the little princesses had been. On Ptero Ted and Monica were the same age as the princesses. “That makes ten,” Melody said.

“Just enough to keep it,” Harmony agreed.

But for once Rhythm did not conclude it. “Except for Sim. He makes eleven.”

“And the Good Magician,” Ida said. “Making twelve. We are two over the limit. This puts the secret of your exchange at risk. But this does not mean that it will be exposed, just that it can be. We shall have to be extremely careful.”

Melody looked at the four new arrivals. “If you don't mind our asking,” she began.

“Why is it necessary for the demons to join in?” Harmony continued.

“Do they have a need to know?” Rhythm concluded.

“Yes, they do,” Ida said. “Because it is not merely your presence here we must conceal, but the absence of your younger selves. If someone notices that they are not running around the castle making their usual mischief, there will be questions.”

“But we can do that,” Melody said. She began to hum.

“By invoking our magic,” Harmony continued, bringing out her harmony-ca.

“Like this,” Rhythm concluded, beating her drum.

In a moment they sang and played and beat themselves into the semblance of their junior Selves: three four-year-old Princesses. The likeness was so good that no one would be able to tell, even though it was illusionary. In this realm they could not actually change their ages by traveling From or To.

“Not when you are out searching for the Dastard,” Ida said.

Oops. They stopped their music and reverted to their normal semblance.

Meanwhile DeMonica assumed the likeness of Little Melody, with a mischievous expression. Demon Ted grimaced, then fuzzed his suit out and reformed it as a dress. Now he looked like Little Harmony.

“But I'm missing,” Big Rhythm protested, in her distraction speaking out of turn.

Demoness Metria turned smoky, then reformed as her alter ego, the waif Woe Betide. Then she changed further, and became Rhythm. Now they were three.

“One of the demon adults must bring the children, for they are only half demon and can't pop in and out as we can,” D. Vore explained. “So that adult can take the place of the third child. Our demonly nature enables us to better emulate the mischief of children. The other demon adult can keep in touch with others, establishing a liaison between the big and little princesses. I will now explain things to Big Sim.” He popped off.

They were right: This secret needed twelve participants, even if it did put it at risk. The folk of Xanth had figured things out carefully. Even so, it could be chancy.

“We shall certainly do our best,” Melody said.

“But we need a bit of advice,” Harmony added.

“What is our strategy for nullifying the Dastard?” Rhythm finished.

“We have considered that,” Ida said. “We see three possibilities. First, we might banish him to Ptero, or one of its satellite worlds, where he could do no further mischief.”

“But would he go?” Melody asked.

“If he didn't want to?” Harmony added.

“How could we make him?” Rhythm concluded.

“We do see that as a problem,” Ida said. “We hesitate to suggest this, but it occurred to us that you are quite attractive young women. It seems that his ambition is to marry a princess. If one of you distracted him, you might be able to lead him to Ptero.”

“Distract him?” Melody asked, not fully pleased.

Ida pursed her lips, but evidently hesitated to answer. It seemed the matter was indelicate.

“He also seems to have a taste for the look and feel of panties,” Magician Grey Murphy said, stepping into the breech. The three fake little princesses giggled, partly at the mention of the naughty word “panties” and partly at the unvoiced near-pun of “breeches.” “So if one of you were to--”

“No way!” Harmony snapped inharmoniously.

“Of course,” Ida said. “Princesses don't.”

“What's the second way?” Rhythm asked.

This time Ivy answered. “We have managed to secure a loose soul that is in need of a host. If that soul could be given to the Dastard, it would provide him with a conscience, and he would then cease being dastardly.”

“Are you sure?” Melody asked.

The imitation Rhythm expanded into D. Metria. “Some of us have had experience with half souls or even quarter souls,” she said. “It will be effective.” Demon Vore returned, and nodded agreement. Souls had power.

“But doesn't a soul have to be taken voluntarily?” Harmony asked.

“Suppose he won't take it?” Rhythm finished.

“It doesn't have to be entirely voluntarily,” D. Vore said. “When I married Nada Naga, I got half her soul. I had no choice.”

“And I got half of my husband's soul,” Metria said. “Later I passed half of that on to Ted, but I remain unconscionably decent regardless. A soul is a hard taskmaster.”

“But the Dastard is not about to marry anyone, surely,” Melody said.

“And none of us are about to marry him,” Harmony agreed.

“And suppose he sees that loose soul coming, and flees?” Rhythm concluded.

“That is our concern,” Ida agreed.

“So what's the third way?” Melody asked.

“Persuasion,” Ida said.

The three princesses considered this. “You mean, just talk to him?” Harmony asked.

“Trying to make him See the light?” Rhythm asked.

“This may not be as far-fetched as it seems,” Grey Murphy said. “Folk who do good are normally held in higher esteem that those who do evil. We suspect that it is esteem that he most desires, though he may not realize it. If he could be made to see that he will be more respected if he uses his talent for good, he might do it.”

“And suppose he doesn't?” Melody asked.

The others shrugged. “We do not see this as an easy mission,” Ida confessed. “So it may be that initially, all you will be able to do is damage control.”

“Damage control?” Harmony asked.

“Your magic should enable you to follow him in time and space, and perhaps prevent his dastardly deeds,” Ida said. “This would be a stopgap expedient, but possibly the best you can do until one of the other options proves feasible.”

“We can find him,” Rhythm said confidently. “But what we're going to do with him when we catch him we don't know.”

“You will have to conceal your princessly nature,” Ida said. “And Sim will have to mute his feathered brilliance. Otherwise the secret will be out the moment anyone sees you.”

The three princesses didn't even need to exchange a glance; half a glance sufficed. They sang, played, and beat themselves into the semblance of three mature but rather common women wearing green, brown, and red clothing, suitably dull. Their little crowns became sensible kerchiefs.