The Dastard (31 page)

“Or in the gourd,” Rhythm concluded. “It might have trapped you inside.”

“I could see the Random Factor,” Becka said. “But I couldn't stop you from opening that door. That was awful.”

Rhythm turned to Melody. “What in Xanth were you trying to do, sister dear?”

“I was trying to have some fun, for a change,” Melody replied. “Especially since I never got my bra back.”

The Dastard had thought something was missing from her apparel, but hadn't caught on what it was. Not that the knowledge would have done him much good.

“But you were trying to seduce him!”

“Exactly.”

“Remember, she has no conscience now,” the Dastard said. “She doesn't care about propriety, just the pleasure of the moment.”

“We have to change you back!” Harmony said to Melody.

“But we don't know how,” Rhythm said.

“I can tell you how,” the Dastard said. “Simply unhappen the exchange.”

“Yes!” the two princesses agreed together, clapping their hands.

“But there's one problem,” he said.

“There is?” Becka asked.

“Yes. Melody has to be the one to do it. I would, but I no longer have that power.”

“And I'm not going to!” Melody agreed, laughing. She sounded almost like the Sea Hag.

“Sister dear, we can make you,” Harmony said grimly.

“We are two to your one,” Rhythm agreed.

“First you'll have to catch me,” Melody said, and slid into limbo.

“Don't let her get away!” the Dastard cried. “She can do incredible damage with my talent.”

“But it's hard to follow her, with only two,” Harmony said.

“We had three before,” Rhythm said.

“You have three now,” the Dastard said. “As long as I have her conscience--and her talent. If you will guide me in the use of her magic. I am clumsy with it by myself, but with your help I can be of real assistance. I want to do what is right.”

“Yes!” they agreed, and the three of them slid into limbo, carrying Becka along.

Princess Melody's first aim was to get away from her sisters, because she knew the power of their magic. Two could indeed overcome one, but the one had to hold still for it. They had learned that when playing tag, long ago. Now with her power of unhappening, she didn't have to hold still. But she would have to be alert, if she wanted to have any fun. Too bad the Dastard had been such a drag; she might have shown him a trick or two she had picked up from the Sea Hag, there in the horror house.

Where could she go? What could she do? She searched through limbo, finding her control much better now that she had the Dastard's talent. When the three of them had balked him, they had succeeded only because they had been unified, merging their magic talents. They had not known enough of this odd magic to initiate changes, just to track him and stop him. Now she intended to make some real mischief. She just had to find suitable situations for it.

She saw the Land of Xanth in a half-real form. There were forests and fields and lakes and mountains and villages. The first four didn't seem to offer much, so that left the last. So she zeroed in on a village, and slid out of limbo. She stumbled as she re-entered Xanth, still getting her limbo-legs, as it were, but had no other trouble.

She stood before a gnarled old woman. “Hello,” she said. “I'm Princess Melody, looking for a good time.”

“Well, you won't find it here,” the woman replied. “I'm Jean Gnome, and I know that everything is predetermined by what you start with.”

Melody was not in a mood to brook much balking. “Nothing is predetermined! I'm a princess, and I will do as I please.”

The gnome woman gazed at her with disconcerting intensity. “You will do exactly as your set interior pattern dictates. You cannot change what you are.”

“And what do you think I am?” Melody demanded.

“A young woman destined to love a soulless young man.”

“Love!” Melody exclaimed. “I don't love the Dastard! I don't love anyone. Love is for fools.”

“Well, you are bound to in due course. It is written in your pattern.”

Fed up with this, Melody slid back into limbo. She cruised through it, gaining proficiency, until she spied a nondescript man. He was sitting on a pillar of salt, and carving a crystal from a chunk of salt. Maybe he would do for some incidental fun. She slid out before him, adjusting her clothing to show some extra flesh.

“Hello. I am Melody. Who are you?”

“My name is Peter,” he said dully. “Salt Peter.”

“You look as if you haven't summoned many storks lately, Salt.”

“That is true.”

She lifted her skirt part way. “Would you like to?”

“No.”

This caught her with half a surprise. She did not recall meeting a man who did not want to summon storks immediately, if not sooner, though most managed to control their urges somewhat. “Maybe you just haven't encountered the right willing woman.” She hoisted her hem another notch.

“I'm just not interested.”

He was beginning to irritate her. So she tried the crash course. “Well, take a look at this.” She hauled her skirt the rest of the way up and flashed him with her panties.

He looked, and shrugged. He didn't freak out. What was the matter with him? Princessly panties could freak out a dozen men at a time.

So she plumped her bottom down on his lap. “Are you sure?”

Then a weird thing happened. She lost her own interest. She no longer cared at all about storks.

“It's my talent,” the man said. “I can't turn it off.”

“Your talent is disinterest in storks?”

“Exactly.”

Disgusted, she slid back into limbo. She moved on until she saw an old woman gathering herbs. She slid out before her. “What are you doing?”

“I'm gathering warts, of course,” the woman said.

This did not seem very promising as entertainment. “What kind of warts?”

“Worry warts.”

“What kind of wart is that?”

“I'll show you.” The woman threw a handful of them at her.

Melody tried to duck, but several of the warts struck her. They stuck to her body and wouldn't rub off.

Suddenly she was worried. Were her sisters about to catch up with her? What about that frustrating Dastard? Was he going to try to get his talent back? Would she ever find anything really interesting to do, now that she was free to do it? Worries beset her.

Suddenly she realized why. “The worry warts!” she cried. “They make me worry!”

The old woman cackled gleefully. “You had to ask, dearie.”

“Get them off me! I don't want to worry.”

“They don't come off, dearie. You have to wear them off.”

“Wear them off! How do I do that?”

“By resolving whatever they make you worry about, dearie. There is no other way.”

“Yes there is,” Melody said. Then she unhappened most of her encounter with the woman, but sliding back to just before she threw the warts. “What kind of wart is that?” she asked again.

“I'll show you.” But this time Melody intercepted the woman's arm and caused her to drop the warts on herself. “Oh, see what you've done, you awful girl!” the woman screamed. “I'm hopelessly worried!”

“Too bad,” Melody said unsympathetically, and slid back into limbo. She would remember to stay clear of worry warts.

Then she realized that this was the first time she had actually used her talent to unhappen something. It had just come naturally. It was handy. But she remained bored. So far, being without a soul wasn't as much fun as she had thought it was at first. She needed entertainment; her life had little meaning without it.

She saw a child walking along a path. Maybe she could seduce a child. That would be a gross violation of the Adult Conspiracy, therefore surely fascinating. She slid out of limbo and landed in front of the boy. “Hello,” she said.

“Go away.”

“But I want to show you something.”

“I'll show you something.” He gestured--and a bug was buzzing in her face. She yelped and stepped back, and it buzzed on past.

“What was that?” she demanded.

“A bee, of course,” he said.

“Oh. Well, I was about to--”

“Look at your foot.”

She looked--and screamed. There was a spider on it. She kicked violently, but it clung. Finally she grabbed a big leaf and scraped it off. “Where did that come from?”

“That's my talent--conjuring small insects,” the boy said proudly. “I love to make women scream.”

Disgusted again, she slid back into limbo. When would she ever find something fun to do?

She saw a mountain. It was tall and round, with a curl of smoke at its top. She recognized it: Mount Pinatuba, the irritable volcano. Now that might have potential.

She circled around it, orienting. Limbo was a way to travel in both space and time, as they had discovered when pursuing the Dastard, to stop his dastardly deeds. How naïve they had been; dastardly deeds were the most fun. She wanted to do some herself. But what could she come up with? She knew that Pinatuba had a short temper, and when it blew its top it could put out so much dust it would cool all Xanth by one degree. But it hadn't blown its top in years.

Well, suppose she went back as far as she could, and aggravated it? Made it blow--several years ago? That would unhappen the peaceful existence of the region, and be worthy of comment. It would make her life meaningful, for a while.

She slid back, back, as far as she could, almost to the time when she and her sisters had been delivered by the stork. She couldn't go any farther, both because she had to stay within her lifetime, and because the Dastard's talent was limited to when he had obtained it from the demon. But that was good enough; it could cool Xanth for four years, and maybe even bury some villages in ash or lava. Maybe then she could even move forward a couple of years and do it again.

She emerged beside the mountain. Time to get started. “Hey, Pinhead Tub!” she called. “You think you're something? I've seen better cones on eye scream!”

There was a low rumble, and a heavier puff of smoke from the cone. The mountain heard her, and it wasn't pleased.

But this was just the beginning. “Is that the best you can do, Pinny Tubby? I thought you knew how to smoke.”

This time the rumble was stronger, and the smoke shot up toward the sky. Oh, yes, the mountain was heating up.

“I heard you could cool all Xanth, when you tried,” she called. “I don't believe it. Maybe a local region.”

The plume of smoke shot higher, and the sides of the mountain shook with indignation.

“Maybe just the land right in sight of you,” she continued.

A boulder shot up and collided with a cloud, fragmenting it into frightened wafts of mist.

“A little patch right next to your base,” she said.

This time a shower of rocks shot up, and lava began to overflow the brim. Pinatuba was really ready to blow.

Harmony appeared. “Stop that!” she cried.

“Make me!”

Rhythm appeared beside her. “We will.”

Unfortunately, they could. So as they advanced on her, Melody slid back into limbo. Her sisters would not dare to follow immediately, because the mountain was ready to blow in a moment, and they would have to pacify it. She wondered how they would do that. Well, it was their problem.

She slid forward in time, as that was the only way to go from here. She remained unsatisfied, because she hadn't actually done a truly dastardly deed; her sisters had caught up too quickly. But maybe she could hide from them, and have time to do something worse before they found her.

She saw a woman looking her way. This was odd, because she thought she was invisible in limbo. So she stepped out of it. “Were you seeing me?” she asked.

“Not you specifically; I just knew that there was something in the area that related to my talent.” The woman's eyes were penetrating.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Destiny.”

“What is your talent?”

“Destiny. I can change a person's destiny.”

Now Melody understood. She slid out of there immediately, wanting none of that. She wanted to keep her destiny in her own hands.

She quested farther, ranging across time and space, looking for fun. It was surprisingly hard to find. Here she had this great talent, and complete freedom; why wasn't she happy with it? Why did she feel somehow unfulfilled?

She saw a young man. She decided to give him no chance to resist. She slid out before him, opening her blouse. “I have something for you,” she said.

He looked at her, surprised. “I see you are in need of healing.”

This was not the reaction she had expected. “Why do you say that?”

“It's my talent. I can tell when it is needed, and you need it badly.”

“I don't need any healing. I'm in a fine fettle. I just want to have a good time.”

“I disagree. You can never had a good time, until you are healed. Here, let me try.” He reached out his hand.

Now she hesitated. There was something here she didn't understand. “Why do you say that?”

“Because my talent is healing human souls.” He caught her hand. “Just let me see, now--” he broke off, astonished. “I can't heal yours!”

She jerked her hand away. “Why not, dumbbell?”

“Because you have no soul! How can this be?”

She didn't answer him; she just slid out of there. She didn't want her soul fixed any more than she wanted her destiny changed.

She coursed along, increasingly frustrated by her inability to find the fun she sought. There had to be something, somewhere, that she could really mess up.

She spied a cave. That looked like Com Passion's residence; it might be really fun to unhappen the sickeningly friendly machine. She could go in and range back, to discover when Passion appeared, then see if there was anything she could do about it.

She slid out of limbo before the screen. Immediately Passion's mouse appeared, squeaking. “Eeeeek!” Melody screamed; five E's was standard in such situations. She had forgotten about the little animal.

Mouse Terian assumed human form. “What can we do for you, Princess Melody?” she inquired.

Melody collected her wits, which had gotten scattered. “Nothing. I'm going to slide back in time and unhappen you and Com Passion.”

She tried to slide into limbo--and could not. What was the matter? This hadn't happened before.

Then she saw Passion's lighted screen. Princess Melody remains in place and explains her curious statement.

Oh--the machine was using her ability to change reality inside her cave. Melody had forgotten about that. Now she was stuck in something dull.

She had to answer. “The Random Factor in Castle Maidragon exchanged my soul with the Dastard, so now I have his talent of unhappening and no soul. I'm looking for fun, and that means storks or mischief. So I'm going to do you some mischief, by unhappening your existence.”

“But you're a nice princess,” Mouse Terian protested.

“Not any more. Now I just want to have fun.”

We shall provide you with fun, the screen scripted.

“I'll provide my own,” Melody said. She tried to slide into limbo, but was balked again. What a frustration! If only she had remembered about the machine's magic.

We shall play cards.

Worse yet. Melody normally had no interest in cards, and she had less now. “I would really rather not.”

Princess changes mind.

“What game?”

“We know three card solitaire games,” Terian said. “One of them can be played with another person, and we have played that one with Com Pewter and his mouse Tristan. But that grows a trifle familiar, after two years. We are glad to have a new player; this should add novelty.”

“But I don't know any card solitaire games.”

“We shall teach you.”

Melody wanted to get out of here, but she couldn't figure out a way to change her mind again. So she sat down at a table that appeared, and Terian sat opposite her, and explained to her the rules of a game called Klondike. What they actually played was Double Klondike, with Terian playing for Passion. After Melody lost one game, they played another, and another. She always lost, which didn't improve her mood.

“Is there any way out of this?” she demanded irritably.