The Dastard (7 page)

“And you're really a princess?” the Dastard asked.

“Of course I am! You don't think any normal person could be this fouled up, do you? I must find my way to the palace, or whatever, so I can rest my maidenly feet for a while and eat some cake.”

“Kiss me,” the Dastard said. He wasn't much for the social graces.

“Why of course.” Ann turned to him and planted her lips on his. She kissed him so hard and long that it was a wonder either of them could breathe. Becka was disgusted, but also fascinated; this was one strange and oddly aggressive female.

The Dastard seemed to be coming to a similar conclusion. He pulled his face away. “Maybe this is premature,” he gasped.

“No, you seem like a fine young man,” Ann Arky said. “Let's signal the stork a few times.” She hauled him in again.

“Let's discuss this first,” he said. Becka almost had sympathy for him. Ann seemed to be getting less disorganized by the moment, now that she had oriented on the man.

“No need, you luscious thing.” Ann put a hand on her shirt and ripped it open. The balloon over her head showed the rest of her clothing being ripped off, and his too.

Suddenly Ann was standing without moving. The Dastard was also standing frozen, holding nothing. The speech balloon hovered, disconnected.

Amazed, Becka. stared at it. What was happening? This was so strange that she couldn't make any sense at all of it. But inside the bubble a picture was forming, so she focused on that.

It showed the Dastard floating through some kind of limbo where nothing was quite real. Ghostly scenery passed across the background; he was evidently moving through Xanth. He was traveling back in time to unhappen something! She was seeing an unhappening happening, for the first time, maybe because it was a big enough one to require extra effort. The Dastard was looking for something, and nothing could happen until he found it.

He found it: the place and time where Ann Arky blundered into the Land of Xanth. There was a path that forked, and one fork seemed to pass through a spot in the interface so a person could get through. So the Dastard simply hauled some prickly bushes across to close off the path, so that it wouldn't be used. Then he slid back toward the present.

And Ann Arky faded out, along with her balloon. She was gone. She had, Becka realized, never entered Xanth.

“You saw?” the Dastard asked.

“Yes. You unhappened her entry into Xanth.”

“I had to. She was weird.”

Becka had to agree, but also had to argue. “I thought you liked her bosom.”

“Yes. But the longer I talked with her, the less credible she became. She was no princess.”

“It was weird the way she started coming on to you.”

“It certainly was. I couldn't understand her, so I had to get rid of her. I'm glad that's done.”

“But you could have--have summoned the stork with her, if you had waited just a little longer.”

“I wanted to. But I never get too deeply involved in what I don't understand. It's dangerous. So I had to stop her before I lost all control.”

He didn't like to lose control. That made sense. Ann Arky's disorganization could have dragged him down. The man might have no conscience, but he did have discipline. “So I guess your nexus wasn't right, this time.”

He nodded. “That's the first time something like that's happened. I'd suspect she was an impostor, but she really was a stray from Mundania.” He shrugged. “Well, let's move on.”

They started to walk back down the path. Then Becka felt an awful chill. Something was closing in on her--something utterly horrible. But she could neither figure it out nor fight it. It was like breathing foul air: The alternative was to suffocate.

You'll get used to it, child.

What was that? It seemed like a voice in her head. But how could that be? Becka wasn't given to hallucinations.

Meanwhile, her body walked on beside the Dastard, just as if nothing was happening. She didn't know what was happening, but she wished he would unhappen it. This was gruesome.

Here is the word, child. I am the Sea Hag. I have taken over your body.

The Sea Hag! But that couldn't be. She was locked in the Brain Coral's pool.

I escaped. Now give me all your memories.

Becka fought desperately to free herself from the loathsome embrace of the Sorceress.

If you fight me, I will hurt you.

Becka still fought. Nothing could be worse than being Possessed by the Sea Hag, who took pretty girls and soon rendered them into worn hags. She'd rather die!

Then terrible pain flooded through her body. Every muscle, every bone was on fire. She tried to escape by turning dragon, but it was no good; the pain continued.

She found herself lying on the ground in her natural form. “What's the matter?” the Dastard asked irritably. “Can't you even walk a little way without collapsing?”

If only he knew! But her mouth curved into lying words. “Just a stumble, my pet. I'll be all right.”

Her body got up and turned full girl again. It walked. The Dastard, reassured, paid no further attention.

As I said, I will hurt you. Now give me all your memories.

Becka tried to resist, but the awful pain returned, and she couldn't. She had no power, and not much will. She surrendered, letting the Sea Hag delve into her mind.

So that's what happened! I thought I should have had a body before this. He took it away before I got it. What a dastardly deed.

Yes, he had unhappened it. Now it was clear that the Sea Hag had taken over Ann Arky's body, and lost it when he unhappened the woman's arrival in Xanth. He had been far smarter than he knew, to abolish what he didn't understand. So the questing Hag had had to find another body--and had taken Becka's.

That's right, child. And a good body it is, young and pretty. It should last for years.

What was going to happen to her? Becka dreaded her likely future.

Have no concern about that, my pet. It will be far worse for you than you can imagine. Your body is mine, now, and I will use it until I'm tired of it, then I will kill it. You are doomed.

And she couldn't even warn the Dastard.

Wira guided them to the rose garden, where the Designated Wife, Rose of Roogna, was cultivating roses. That was of course what she did best, and they were very nice looking, sweet smelling, and magical flowers. “Hello, Princesses,” she said, giving them a combined hug. They knew her, as they knew all of Humfrey's five and a half wives. Some of her roses still grew in Castle Roogna, signaling love for those who were in doubt. Uncle Dolph had used them to prove that he knew the meaning of love even at age nine.

They went to the kitchen for rose shaped cookies and rose colored tsoda pop. Then Wira took them upstairs to the Good Magician's dingy little study. They had been here, too, before, but this time it was official, and that made it much more impressive. When they formed their illusion castle there was always a dingy dark study in it, in case the Magician should ever happen to want to visit.

They lined up before Humfrey's little desk with its huge old tome. After a moment, his worn old eyes looked up from the page and slowly oriented on them.

“How can we stop that man?” Melody asked.

Humfrey didn't need to ask what man. He knew everything, because he was the Magician of Information. “This is difficult,” he said. “You cannot do it at present.”

“But that's all we have to do, and we must do it now,” Harmony said.

“Not exactly,” Humfrey said.

This was different. “What do you mean?” Rhythm asked.

“As adults you will have the capacity to deal with the Dastard,” Humfrey said. “But it will be seventeen years before you reach that stage. You are correct: It must be done now. Therefore, a rather special measure is required.”

“What special measure?” Melody asked.

“You must exchange places with your older selves.”

The three little princesses were seldom at a loss for words or mischief, but this suppressed both parts of their nature.

Then Wira spoke. “Magician, according to the schedule, Sim is arriving. He will be here in five minutes.”

Humfrey winced. “I forgot to change the Challenges!”

Now the princesses revived. “Is that our friend Sim, the son of the Simurgh?” Melody asked.

“The Simurgh, who is the wisest bird in all Xanth?” Harmony added.

“Who has seen the universe end and reappear three times?” Rhythm concluded.

“Yes, of course,” Humfrey said. “The Simurgh wants him to amend his education, so she sent him here without his nanny. How will I ever change the Challenges in time?”

“We'll help,” Melody said.

“If you tell us what to do,” Harmony added.

“If you let us use our magic,” Rhythm finished.

“But I had a different Service in mind for you,” he protested.

“Okay,” Melody said, her little feelings hurt.

“We'll get out of your way,” Harmony said sadly.

“We were just trying to help,” Rhythm said, wiping away a sweet tiny tear.

“Magician--” Wira began.

“Oh, all right,” Humfrey grumped. If any person existed to whom he couldn't say no, she was the one. “Conjure yourselves to the supply room and--”

The three princesses held each other's hands, forming a ring. Melody hummed, and Harmony tootled on the harmonica that appeared in her mouth, and Rhythm tapped her toes to make the beat. They pictured the supply room, and suddenly it was around them. They didn't hear the last of the Good Magician's instructions.

This was a fascinating place. Weird things were piled up like junk. They had no idea what was needed. But that didn't stop them from proceeding. Melody grabbed an armful of little angel figures. Harmony grabbed a model of a winged monster. Rhythm grabbed a bag of tiny green tentacles. Then they made another circle as well as they could and hummed and played and timed their music, making the region just outside the moat become real around them.

The Challenge they had faced remained in place. Melody threw the angel figures into the air, and they expanded and became real angels, flying uncertainly around. Harmony put the winged monster where Ition had been, and it expanded into a fair sized dragon. Rhythm tossed handfuls of tentacles across the sig nature garden, and they landed and sprouted into full tangle trees.

“What are you doing?” A. Cause demanded. She was rising from her chair, with Ition beside her.

“We're changing the Challenge,” Melody told her.

“So that Sim can use it,” Harmony added.

“And here he comes now,” Rhythm concluded. Indeed, a bird figure was cresting the hill.

“But there has to be a plan, organization, a point,” A. Cause protested severely. “Each Challenge is carefully crafted to fit the querent.”

“Too late for that,” Melody said.

“We didn't know,” Harmony added sadly.

“We were just trying to help,” Rhythm said, a tear forming.

The severity melted. “It will have to do,” A. Cause decided. “We must get away from here immediately.”

The three princesses made a circle around the woman and beast, holding hands, and sang and played to make the inside of the castle real around them.

“Why hello, Anna,” Rose said, surprised. “And the princesses.”

“We changed the first Challenge,” Melody said.

“And brought Miz Cause and Ition here,” Harmony continued.

“'Cause Sim's here,” Rhythm finished.

“I dread to think what will happen,” Anna Cause said.

“Perhaps you should take the princesses to a parapet, so you can watch,” Rose suggested.

The princesses didn't wait. They sang and played and tapped, and the parapet became real around them. It was at the top of the castle, with a low wall at the edge.

“Oh, my,” Rose said, surprised. The rose she held looked surprised too.

They looked out over the wall. The lower sections of the castle were there, and the moat, and the land beyond it. Sim was just arriving at the Challenge. He was big for a bird, but small for a roc, being about the size of a grown man though he was only five years old. He was the most beautiful and precious bird in Xanth. His flight feathers scintillated with twice the colors of the rainbow, and his beak and talons sparkled like gems. He glided to the ground in a scintillation of iridescence and stood for a moment, considering.

He evidently decided to fly over the forest of tangle trees. In fact, it was a tangle tree farm with a hundred young tanglers growing, cutting off the approach to the drawbridge. But he didn't leave the ground; the magic of the Challenge prevented him from taking the easy way past.

So he tried walking through the forest. Immediately the young tangle trees grabbed at him, showing no respect for his beauty of form. He would have been sadly mistreated, not to mention defeathered, had not the angels flown in to rescue him. They carried him gently back out beyond the forest and set him on the ground.

Meanwhile, the princesses could see other creatures working inside the moat, setting things up for the second and third Challenges while Sim tackled the first Challenge. There was a group of human people just inside the moat, and the chamber where the river had run was becoming a small forest.

Sim tried walking around the tangle tree farm, but the only way that led to the moat was blocked by the winged monster. It was full size now, and looked dangerous. Sim did not try to pass it. Instead he walked back to where the angels hovered.

“This would be easier to understand if we could hear them talk,” Rose murmured.

“But Sim doesn't talk,” Melody said.

“He just peeps,” Harmony agreed.

“But we can understand his peeps,” Rhythm concluded.

“Then perhaps you can make it possible for us to hear the translations,” Rose said.

They concentrated, then sang and played and tapped, and the sound became real. The figures were far away, but it sounded as though they were close. When Sim peeped, it seemed as if he were speaking their language.

Sim was just arriving back where the angels hovered. “The winged monster says he is lost,” Sim peeped. “He followed an airline and thought he was getting somewhere, but it became a nightline, and he had to leave it, and now he has no idea where he is or what he is supposed to do.”

“That's too bad,” the angels sang in a sweet chorus.

“Meanwhile he thinks he's supposed to stop anyone from passing, until he gets unlost.”

“How unfortunate,” they sang sweetly.

“So now will you carry me to the other side of the forest, so I can cross the moat?”

“No,” they sang with angelic regret. “We are lost too. We found ourselves here, with no hint of where we are supposed to be or what we are supposed to do.”

Sim considered. “I never heard of angels in Xanth before. Where do you live?”

“In Heaven,” they chorused.

“Where is that?”

“We don't know.”

Sim considered further. He was not a stupid bird. “Maybe you need to make Heaven. Then you will know where it is.”

“But we have nothing to put in Heaven,” they chorused.

“I think you need a nice young forest,” Sim peeped. “And a guardian for your gate.”

They were intrigued. “Where could we find a forest?”

“Consider this tangle tree farm. Once this Challenge is over, there will be no place for these poor trees to go. They need a permanent home. I'm sure they could make a very nice forest, with angelic guidance.”

“Why so they could,” the angels agreed. “But where could we find a guardian for our gate?”

“The lost dragon should make an excellent one.”

“Why so it should,” they agreed. “We hadn't thought of that. But maybe he has somewhere else to go.”

“If he did, he would have gone there. He is lost, and needs to be found. He needs a place to call home, and a job to do.”

The angels nodded. Then they set about fashioning a floating Heaven, and they took the tree farm into it. The trees became greener and brighter and considerably more friendly in that beneficent environment. Then they took the lost monster into it, and he took up his position by the pearly front gate, and was no longer lost. Heaven floated away, carrying its lovely scene, leaving the ground of Xanth bare and dull.

Sim walked to the drawbridge unchallenged. He had overcome the first Challenge. That was a good performance, considering the random nature of its institution.

“But now he faces a genuine Challenge,” Rose said, watching the bird cross the drawbridge.

On the inside side of the moat sat a morose man. He blocked the main gate.

Sim approached. He tried to walk past the man, but abruptly stopped.

“What happened?” Anna Cause asked.

The little princesses concentrated, and soon the mood of the bird became real to them. “The man's talent is making others feel shame,” Melody said.

“Or embarrassment,” Harmony agreed.

“So nobody can get by him without being overcome by morti--morti--” She stalled out, but then the other two took her hands, and together they were able to handle the huge word. “Fication,” Rhythm finished.

Sim went to the side, but there he encountered a number of disreputable men, women, and children. “Hello,” he peeped.

“Get out of here!” a man cried.

“But I have to get into the castle,” Sim peeped.

“We hate the castle,” a wild-eyed woman said.

“And we hate you,” a surly child added.

“But I'm just an innocent bird of Xanth.”

“We hate birds,” the man said.

“And we hate Xanth,” the woman said.

Sim looked surprised. “How can anyone hate Xanth?”

“We hate magic,” the child said.

“And we hate humor,” the man said.

“And we absolutely detest puns,” the woman said.

This set the bird back. “Who are you?”

“We're critics,” the child said.

Sim stepped back, realizing that these folk were incorrigible. They hated everything except themselves, and they surely didn't feel very good about that exception.

Then a bulb flashed over Sim's head. “Do you hate that man in the chair?” he asked, pointing with a wing.

“Of course we do,” the man said.

“Well, I like him. I am going to walk right by him through that door.”

“We hate that!” the woman said. The group of them charged toward the seated man.

Soon they stumbled away, holding their heads, overwhelmed by shame. Now they hated themselves too.

Sim quickly walked past the motley group, before anyone noticed him, and hurried through the gate. This was almost too easy; he felt ashamed of himself.

The three princesses tittered. “Sim's fun,” Melody said.

“He's a smart bird,” Harmony agreed.

“And our friend,” Rhythm concluded.

But now Sim faced the third Challenge. This was a forest from which lovely music came. He paused to listen, and so did the princesses, Rose, and Anna Cause.

Then he started to walk through the forest. The trees were passive, not interfering. But then a funny little machine-like thing appeared. It had a body of metal and feet of rubber, with big square glassy eyes. When it moved, it made a subdued roaring sound. It came to block Sim's progress.

“What are you?” Sim peeped.

The thing played a lovely piece of music.

“That's very interesting,” Sim peeped. “Tell me your story.”

He understood the music, but the princesses did not. So they concentrated, and sang, played, and beat the other music into intelligibility. Then the notes became words, and the story unveiled. Some of the words were unfamiliar or even nonsensical, but they were able to get the sense of it anyway.

Once upon a time, a Mundane forest ranger drove his car through the intangible barrier between Mundania and Xanth. There were various leaky spots in the Interface, and sometimes Mundane creatures did leak through. The land turned magical, but the ranger didn't realize it, because like most of his ilk he didn't believe in magic.

The car's front wheels rolled into a small patch of slowsand. Because it had front wheel drive, this meant that when they slowed down, so did the whole car. The driver thought the car had stalled, though the motor seemed to be running. He turned it off, got out, and peered at the front. He wasn't caught by the slowsand because it didn't extend beyond the car. He saw nothing wrong, which confirmed his impression that the car had stalled. So he walked back the way he had come, to get help.