The Dastard (27 page)

“No it's not,” Melody said. “The gain is all his, the sacrifice all ours.”

“Still, you shouldn't decide in ignorance,” Becka argued. “Maybe if you know him better you'd be absolutely sure you would never marry him in a million years. But you have to find out first. It might be that he would improve with half a soul, and be--” She couldn't quite make herself say “good,” and needed a more neutral word.

“Tolerable,” the Dastard suggested with four-sevenths of a smile. He obviously didn't care about the soul; he just wanted the princess.

“Sim, does this make sense?” Harmony asked the invisible bird.

“Yes,” Sim squawked.

“Then I guess we'd better try it,” Rhythm said. “Why don't we give it one day, and then if there's no other way, we can do what we have to do.”

“All right,” Melody said miserably. “I will get to know him. For one day. But I'm not going to let him do any Adult Conspiracy things.”

Becka turned to the Dastard. “There. You have one day. If you're ever going to win a princess, this is the time. But you have to behave.”

The Dastard nodded. “Then it's a truce. For a day.”

“Now we have to figure out the setting,” Harmony said.

“A magic castle,” Rhythm said. “With just the two of them.”

“And no magic talents,” Harmony said. “No unhappenings, no singing things real. Just the two of you. Getting to know each other better.”

“Who's going to enforce this?” Melody asked. “Suppose someone cheats?” She didn't need to clarify who might cheat; there was only one person present without a conscience.

“That's no problem,” the Dastard said. “You'll be watching. You'll know if I cheat. Then the deal will be off. But let's qualify it: no magic unless the other agrees.”

Melody and Harmony exchanged an uncertain glance. Sim understood why: “We need an objective judge,” he squawked. “Someone who doesn't stand to gain or lose from this.”

“Becka,” Rhythm said. “She can watch, and judge.”

“Me?” Becka asked, startled. “I'm just a dragon girl. I can't stop an unhappening, or the magic of a Sorceress.”

“But we can,” Harmony said. “If someone watches and alerts us.”

“And Sim can figure out alternatives,” Rhythm said. “So after the day, maybe we'll know what to do.”

“But the setting,” the Dastard said. “I want it limited, so she can't just run away.”

“Limited to a castle,” Harmony said. “A fancy one, with many turrets and terraces and chambers.”

Rhythm smiled. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“Of course I am. This is our chance to animate our chocolate castle, only in stone.”

“But it would take forever to conjure all that stone!” Melody protested.

“No, I believe you could do it in a few hours, as background magic, since you have the pattern,” Sim squawked. “This is Xanth, where stone is common.”

Becka had another concern. “You said I could watch and judge. How am I supposed to do that? I can't just follow them around.”

Sim squawked. “Adapt.”

Harmony and Rhythm nodded. “Beautiful!” Harmony said. “A rehearsal for a real stone castle.”

“We know the design,” Rhythm agreed. “All we need is practice implementing it.”

“You'll need my help to make it,” Melody said. “We haven't done adaptation on this scale before.”

“I don't understand,” Becka said.

“You will,” Sim squawked.

Then the three princesses faced her. Melody sang, Harmony played her harmonica, and Rhythm beat her little drum. Magic surrounded them, becoming overwhelmingly powerful. It was as if a phenomenal storm were forming, yet there was no breath of wind. Something breathtaking was happening--but what? It seemed to reach right through her, taking hold of her very flesh and bones.

Becka felt herself changing. Weirdly. “Hey!” she cried as her hair stood out from her head and current surged through her limbs. She tried to turn dragon to escape it, but the change continued. Her body expanded enormously, and her feet spread into the ground. Her scales turned into outcrops of stone--tors or battlements. Her eyes fractured painlessly into a hundred panes of glass. She was becoming something huge and hard and amazingly intricate.

Then she realized what it was: She was developing into a castle! A big one, with endless turrets and walls and stairways and windows, and green trees growing in gardens throughout. There was a circular moat, but the castle was evidently nestled on a small hill. She had lost her eyes and ears, yet she could see and hear everything, outside and inside, via the windows and doors. She was the setting!

The three princesses stopped their music. The castle was complete. What a fantastic edifice it was!

Melody detached herself from the trio and walked to the front entrance. Her clothing became an ornate gown. She had been beautiful; now she was stunning. She crossed the drawbridge and stood by the gate. “Welcome to Castle Maidragon,” she said to the Dastard.

“There?” he asked, taken aback. He plainly hated to admit it, but he was as plainly awed. So was Becka; she had never imagined that such compelling magic was possible. The princesses seemed like such delicate girls, yet they had the strength to change the very face of the local geography--or turn a dragon girl into a castle, without hurting her.

“Where else?” Harmony asked.

“But we had better dress you appropriately,” Rhythm said. She beat her drum, and Harmony played her instrument, and the Dastard's clothing became a royal prince's robe. He had been halfway homely; now he was halfway handsome.

He stood on the drawbridge and looked down at his reflection. “Clothes really do make the man,” he murmured.

“You will look like that all the time, if you marry a princess,” Sim squawked. Becka realized that the big bird wanted it to happen, because it would immediately nullify the danger of unscrupulous unhappenings. Unfortunately it was Melody who needed to be persuaded; the Dastard was already more than willing.

He crossed the moat and joined her. The drawbridge lifted. They were confined to their setting--and Becka could see and hear everything. She almost hoped that the Dastard would be charming enough to impress the princess, because it would solve the problem. Yet how could Melody ever make such a sacrifice?

“Let me show you the castle,” Melody said graciously. “We have spent years working out its details.” She took his hand and led him into the first chamber.

He came with her, looking almost as bemused as Becka felt. The princess was giving him her time, but in her own fashion, not that of the Sea Hag. She was doing what she was supposed to do, being the perfect hostess.

“You actually turned the girl into the castle?” the Dastard asked, looking around at the dozen or so turrets. The castle was on so many levels it was dizzying to try to comprehend in a single gaze.

“Yes, but don't be concerned; she is unharmed. We merely performed a topological technique we learned from Grandma Vadne. We will return her to her natural form when this is done.”

“Is she conscious?”

“Oh, yes. She can see and hear everything that goes on here, because this is her. But she will communicate only with my sisters. We can ignore her.”

“But changing a living person into stone and trees and water--”

“And much much more,” Melody agreed. “Now let's change the subject. You have just one day to convince me to marry you, and you had better hurry, because I think your chances are one in a googolly.”

“A what?”

“A very big number.”

“I haven't heard of that number. What is it?”

“It's one we invented back when we were three or four years old. Just as we designed this castle. Originally it was a doll castle made of chocolate, called Castle Chocohol, but as we grew, we enlarged it and added details. We name it after whatever we make it from. We're rather proud of it, actually.”

“The number,” he said. “Exactly what is it?”

Melody made a moue. She looked really cute when she did that. “Oh, that. It's based on a googol.”

“What's a googol?”

She made a flounce of impatience, her artful graciousness slipping a trifle. “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it's your own time you're wasting. A googol is a one followed by a hundred zeroes. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes. Ten to the hundredth power. 10¹ºº.”

She paused, nodding. “You do understand.”

“I am without conscience, not without intelligence.”

Becka was getting to halfway like the Dastard. He had set the princess back right when she had expected him to be ignorant.

“Very well. A googolplex is a one followed by a googol zeroes.”

“Ten to the googol power,” he agreed. “Ten to the ten to the hundredth power.”

“So we made the googolly, which is a googol to the googol power.”

“Ten to the hundredth power raised to the ten to the hundredth power,” he said. “Got it now. That is a very big number.”

“It seems appropriate in the circumstance.”

The Dastard had that little chance of persuading Melody? Then this exercise didn't seem to have much point.

But the man seemed unbothered. “What are the chances of your killing me if we don't marry?”

“About one in--” She paused uncomfortably. “Well, I don't know, exactly.”

“Would you rather kill me than marry me?”

“I don't want to do either!”

“But as long as you do neither, we have an impasse. I'm not going to change my nature without a soul, and you aren't going to let me go. If you marry me, I'll be satisfied, and I'll have a conscience, and won't do any more mischief. So your choices seem to be between letting Xanth suffer, or killing me, or marrying me. You don't seem to want to do any of those.”

Melody stared at him. “If this is your idea of courtship, it's not winning me over.”

Becka saw that the Dastard's soulless rationality was not very romantic. But she wasn't in a position to advise him, assuming that he would listen.

“I don't want to win your heart, just your acquiescence.”

“What about love?” Melody flared.

“What is love?”

Without a soul, he could not love. So he had no use for it. Becka saw that, but wasn't sure the princess did.

Melody turned away. “Anyway, we're proud of our castle. It has many fascinating features. The topmost turrets are good for observation; from them we can see all the way to Mundania. The trees are of many rare and magical types, not just the useful shoe trees and pie trees. The mistress bedroom is opulent, and--”

“What kind of bedroom?”

“The mistress bedroom. That's the most important one in the castle, for the mistress of the castle. Other castles may have master bedrooms, but they weren't made by princesses. Let me show you.”

“I would be happy to be shown your mistress bedroom.”

For a reason he surely didn't understand, that just made Melody further annoyed. Becka saw her graciousness slip another notch, but the princess pretended to be unaffected. She led the way through the entrance tower, up a spiral of stone steps, and out a back door on the third story. This led to a very long narrow stairway on the top of a stout wall. There were stone railings on either side rising to waist height, so there was no danger of falling off unless pushed. The outer rail was a battlement, so that defenders could fire their arrows at a besieging force, while the inner rail was smooth. There was an embrasure halfway up toward the next turret. Becka really liked this castle, and wished she could assume it as a third form, being a dragon/castle/girl, but of course it would be gone the moment this scene was done.

The Dastard looked out, evidently intrigued. “This is highly defensible.”

“I suppose it is, though we don't have any soldiers. We prefer to spend our time in the garden inside.”

He looked in, over that smooth rail. “I suppose.”

They followed the steps up to the turret. They went around it on the inside, and there was a door opening into it. “We have a nice maid's room there, with her bedroom above, and a dormer looking out,” Melody said. “And storage of supplies below.” She turned the other way, and indicated a courtyard with a pleasant terrace and garden. “We play games there.”

“I would be happy to play games with you.”

There he went again, spoiling whatever faint chance there might have been for a mood. Becka wished she could give some spot advice to the man, informing him about subtlety. Girls didn't much like crude implications.

Melody hurried grimly on up the wall-stairs to the next complex of structures. This was truly fancy, with shrubs around its edge and a fountain in its center. “On the right is the chalet, where visitors can stay; downstairs is a stage for plays. The left leads up those flights of wide steps to the main chateau, where we stay. Of course there is much more.”

“I would be happy to stay with you.”

Uh-oh. He had finally triggered a direct response. “Stop that!”

“Stop what?”

“Stop making those suggestive remarks. I'm not sharing a bed with you, or playing any games with you, or staying with you. I'm just showing you the castle.”

The man looked thoughtful. “I apologize,” he said.

“I don't need your fake regret either!”

Becka knew it would take a miracle to fish this relationship out of the mire.

The Dastard looked across to another complex of structures to the left. “What's there?”

“Oh, game rooms, and the kitchen, and guest rooms. There's lots of space in this castle.”

He looked farther, toward a low turret with a conical roof. “What's there?”

“Oh, nothing, really.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, if you must know, it's the forbidden chamber. Its door must never be opened.”

“What's in that chamber?” he asked, intrigued.

“We don't know. That's the point: It's secret. It must never be known.”

“You made it, but you don't know what's in it?”

“That's right. We thought it would be nice to have a secret.”

“Well, I'm curious, so I'll go look.”

“Don't do that!” Melody cried. “There's no telling what's in there. It could be a hungry dragon.”

“If there is, I'll unhappen the opening of the door.”

“You're not supposed to unhappen anything during the truce.”