“She’s bound by the rules of the game, as I am. She will do what she has to do, so that she can be the best king when it is time.”
“But Trojan said she’s devious. She might not.”
“At this point conjecture is pointless. Let’s start back. We can take enchanted paths so there’s no further risk. I believe there is one that crosses the chasm.”
“There is. That will be no problem.” She took a breath. “If you’re not going to marry the princess, then there’s nothing to stop you from taking advantage of me along the way.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that.”
She sighed. “Bleep.”
Then they both laughed. But it was sad, for more than one reason.
14
DECISION
The return trip was uneventful. By evening they were back at the Good Magician’s Castle. They paused just across the drawbridge, at the front gate.
“My job is done,” Mindy said. “I’ll store the trikes. You go on inside; they’ll be expecting you.”
“You’ve been great, Mindy!”
“I cost you your Object.”
“As I said, I’m not sure of that. It may have been fated, and you were merely the girl at hand to implement it. But I wouldn’t trade it for your life, regardless.”
“You’re so sweet. I think I’ll always love you.”
That brought back the guilt. He had not sought her love, or wanted it, but felt responsible for it. What could he do?
She understood his hesitation. “Well, you could kiss me, one last time.”
That much was feasible. He took her in his arms and kissed her. She kissed him back, eagerly. She was amazingly easy to hold. But she couldn’t change the fact that she was only twenty years old, decades too young for him.
He let her go. “Fare well, Mindy.”
“We’ll meet again. I hope you aren’t too angry.” She folded one trike and held it as she sat on the other, then pedaled away. In two moments she was around the curve of the castle wall, heading for what must be the servants’ entrance.
Bryce stood there a moment, perplexed. Why should he be angry? She had been a perfect companion, and was a worthy person. He was grateful for her assistance.
Well, he had other business to attend to. He walked on through the gate. Sure enough, there was Wira, the Good Magician’s daughter-in-law, ready to conduct him to his lodging.
The same room assignments obtained. Bryce was back with Anna Molly. “Did you get your Object?” she asked.
“No.”
“Bleep. I hoped my spoiler mission would fail. Believe me, there was nothing personal in it. I had to do what I was assigned to do.”
“I understand that,” Bryce said. “For what it’s worth, I doubt I was fated to win either the Object or the princess. The larger situation simply is not conducive.”
“I don’t know. All the rest of us got our Objects, in large part because of your insight and help. It’s not right for you to be excluded.”
“I will survive. This has been one great adventure for me. Back in Mundania my life was frankly dull. If I return to Mundania tomorrow, this has still been a worthwhile interlude.”
“You are generous.” She pondered briefly. “Do you know what’s happening tomorrow?”
“The presentation of gifts to the princess?”
“No. They tell us that is the day after tomorrow. Tomorrow we have to judge some talent contest. The rest of us have been preparing the stadium.”
Bryce was surprised. “People will sing or dance?”
“Maybe. But in Xanth a talent is likely to be magical.”
“Oh, of course. But why should we judge such a thing?”
“I think it’s to keep us out of their hair for a day while they set up for the finale.”
“That makes sense. They don’t want us running around and getting in their way. The day a princess chooses her husband is significant. Relatives will need to assemble, arrangements be made for food and lodging, and so on.”
She nodded. “Maybe it does, now that you put it that way. We’re just part of the show.” She pondered again. “Do you think the princess has made up her mind?”
“Theoretically she hasn’t, because otherwise this whole Demon contest is pointless. She must decide after she sees the gifts.”
She nodded. “True.”
“How is it working out with Piper?”
“I hope he doesn’t win the princess. I love him. If she doesn’t marry him, I will.”
“I’m glad.”
“But if I couldn’t marry him, I would go after you. You’re really the best man a girl could get.”
“I’m eighty years old!”
“Not anymore.”
“I am inside. That’s what counts.”
“You’ve got this hangup about age. In Xanth you’re twenty-one. If I were to go after you, I’d start by seducing you, and every time you mentioned age I’d seduce you again until I wore you down. You’d change your attitude soon enough.”
“I doubt it.”
“You think I couldn’t seduce you if I tried?”
Bryce remembered her parting kiss two days before. She wasn’t bluffing. “Couldn’t wear me down,” he clarified.
She laughed. “But wouldn’t it be fun trying!”
He smiled. “Such a situation would be an anomaly.”
“Of course.”
Then he remembered: her talent was the anomaly. He had walked into that one.
All the Suitors were at dinner. It was good to see them again. They had been a largely random assemblage, but they had had strong interactions and learned respect for each other.
And Mindy was serving the dishes, as before. Why did she think he’d be mad at her?
Back in the room for the night, washing and changing, Anna remarked, “And you didn’t make it with Mindy, either.”
“Of course not,” he agreed.
She shook her head. “Men can be such fools.”
He decided to ask her. “Mindy thinks I’m going to be mad at her. I have no idea why. You’re a woman; do you know?”
Anna considered. “I can see why she would be mad at you. She practically threw herself at you, and you wouldn’t touch her. Sure you love the princess, but most men will take something on the side if it’s free. Just as Piper is doing with me. But you mad at her? That doesn’t figure.”
“I don’t believe she was joking.”
“She wouldn’t joke about something like that. She’s a pretty straightforward girl. There must be something we don’t know about.”
“Something,” he agreed morosely. So the mystery remained.
In the morning after breakfast they went out to the stadium. It was a weak effort compared to a Mundane bowl, with a few rows of seats arranged in a broad semicircle around a central platform. Mindy was still putting out more chairs. People were streaming in, evidently eager to participate in the event.
Bryce and Anna took their places on the platform, where there were more chairs. The other Suitors did the same. Bryce noticed that Piper was at the far end. “You’re not sitting with Piper?”
“I wish I could. But we don’t want to make a scene before the princess chooses. It would be awkward if she chose Piper.”
He could appreciate that.
Soon all the seats were filled. Now a man appeared and stood on the platform facing the crowd. “Trent!” Bryce said, recognizing him. “He’s the Master of Ceremonies!”
“Harmony’s great-grandfather,” Anna agreed. “He’s always been great with crowds. They’re pulling out all the stops.”
“For an incidental talent contest?”
Trent overheard them and turned. “It’s a kind of rehearsal for the Princess Betrothal ceremony tomorrow. We want to be sure everything is in working order.”
“Will everyone be able to hear what’s going on?” Bryce asked.
Trent considered. “What do you think, dear?” he asked a woman who had taken a back seat. That was the former qu
een Iris.
“I can’t heeeer you!” she called back.
“Can you make an illusion reflector wall to keep the sound in?”
“Illusion doesn’t work that way,” she said as a much more impressive stadium appeared around the real one. “It reflects light, not sound.”
“Maybe I can help,” Bryce said. He brought out pen and pad, and sketched a megaphone. He activated it, and it expanded to a good-sized cone. “Can you hear me?” he said into the small end.
The folk seated in chairs put their hands to their ears. “You nearly blew my hair off,” Iris called.
So it worked. It was surely magically enhanced. Bryce handed it to Magician Trent. “Yes, I remember these from my time in Mundania,” Trent said. “Thank you.”
Bryce had not realized that the man had been in Mundania. “You’re welcome.”
Now Trent spoke carefully into the megaphone. “I am King Emeritus Trent, your Master of Ceremonies. We are here to hold a talent contest, and these are the judges.” He gestured to the people seated on the stage, without introducing them. “We are looking not for the strongest talent, but for the person who makes best use of his or her talent, regardless of its nature or strength. Thus a weak talent used well will beat a strong talent clumsily wielded. Everyone has a fair chance.” He paused to let that sink in. “This will be a largely subjective judgment, but the judges’ decision, once they come to it, will be final. A majority vote will determine it. If there is a tie vote, I will break it if I choose to.”
He paused. “We promised a worthwhile prize. Here it is.” He held up a holder in which three colored vials were set. “These are three precious fluids. One is healing elixir, enough for several doses depending on the severity of the injury. Another is youth elixir, two or more doses depending on how much age is removed. The third is a love potion, two doses, guaranteed to make anyone fall desperately in love for at least a year. Are you interested?” There was a moan of appreciation. These liquids were invaluable.
“Now let’s have the first talent.” Trent looked over the seated people. “You,” he said, pointing to a young man. “Stand up, state your name and talent, and demonstrate the use you make of it.”
The young man stood up. “I—I’m Jesse,” he said nervously. “My talent is to make things lighter. So I can lift almost anything. I can make myself lighter too, so that I can float.” He rose into the air.
“Can you lighten moods?” Trent asked.
“Why, I never thought of that,” Jesse said.
“Good enough,” Trent said briskly. “Judges, make your notes.”
“May we discuss it?” Anna asked.
“Among yourselves,” Trent agreed. “Briefly.”
“He could have done more with it,” Arsenal said gruffly. “If he made even token artificial wings, he could fly.”
“That’s my impression,” Anna agreed.
“Next contestant,” Trent said, indicating another young man.
“I am Cutter,” the man said. “I can be cut into pieces yet not harmed. Want a demonstration?”
Trent glanced at the judges. “No,” Anna said, shuddering.
“What use do you make of your talent, apart from cutting up?”
“Sometimes I help out in a freak show,” Cutter said.
This too, Bryce thought, was less than impressive use of a formidable talent.
The next talent was to make any inanimate thing become animate for a while. The man demonstrated by making his chair come to life and walk around on its four legs.
Another was a girl who could walk on beams of light. She used a mirror to reflect a sunbeam, then walked on it. That was striking, but again, not imaginative.
“I’m seeing more wasted talents,” Piper muttered. “She could carry a flashlight and scale any castle wall, if she thought to try.”
Another’s talent was grasping at straws: he always got the short straw. “He should be a gambler,” Demon Pose muttered. “And always bet against himself.”
Another was anonymous unless he called attention to himself. Indeed he seemed almost to fade out of sight. But again, what special use did he make of his talent?
One man could make figures of speech literal. “When it comes to mealtime, I’m a pig,” he said, and became a pig.
“Metaphor,” Bryce murmured.
“I’ve said it a million times.” And his words echoed all around the stadium as if a million people were speaking.
“Hyperbole,” Bryce said. This talent impressed him more than the others. The man not only had it, he was making clever use of it. He made a mental note to vote for that one if nothing better came along.
Then came a woman who could breathe anywhere. She demonstrated by setting a smudge fire and putting her face in the smoke. Then she put her head into a bucket of water. Then she put her face to the ground and had a friend pile sand on top. It didn’t matter; she could still breathe.
Then came a woman who could heal monsters. Nothing else, just monsters. “But who wants to heal a monster?” Trent asked.
“That’s the thing,” she said. “A monster is as you see it. Some people can be monsters in some ways, such as how they treat their relatives, or the ugly way they wear their hair. I can heal them too.”
“This interests me,” Piper said. “But I already have a girlfriend.”
“That’s clever,” Anna said. “She could heal almost anyone, just by finding some way that person could be called a monster.”
Bryce agreed, and made a note.
There was a woman who could convert her lower body into the legs and tail of any creature. She became a mermaid, then a naga, then a harpy. Then she started getting more creative, developing dragon legs and scorpion legs and stinger. This, too, was impressive, especially when she returned to human form and put on panties.
“Creative variations,” Anna said. “But can she use it for anything other than a one-person freak show?”
There was the problem. Great talent, little imagination.
Another woman, Flora, could change the color, shape, and smell of flowers. She could make one flower emulate another.
“Is that all?” Trent asked.
“I can make it become a passion flower,” she said. Suddenly the petals turned large and purple, and a passionate odor wafted out. Other people started kissing each other. It was genuine.
“That will do,” Trent said quickly. “Try another.”
“Forget-me-not,” Flora said. “Sniff this and you will remember this flower. Eat it and you will have a perfect memory for anything.”
The judges made another note: versatile talent, imaginatively used.
Then came Wayne, a man who could summon magic weapons. Arsenal’s interest quickened. Then the man explained magic was everywhere in Xanth, so just about everything was magic, and just about anything could be considered a weapon if used as such. “Like dirt,” he said, a handful appearing in his hand. “Thrown in a person’s face, it’s a weapon. Or water—enough of it can drown a person.” He was suddenly drenched with water. “Even a feather pillow, if used to smother someone.” A pillow appeared. “So I can summon almost anything, as long as I think of a way it can be a weapon.”
“He has my vote,” Arsenal said.
“I prefer the flower girl,” Anna said.
“We’ll vote when we’ve seen them all,” Bryce said.
“It won’t be a unified decision,” Anna said.
“Who cares?” Pose demanded. “We’re just marking time anyway.”
That might be the case. But Bryce was increasingly bothered by it. The prior challenges had been difficult, their prizes significant. Why should this be different? An insignificant challenge, with no prize for the Suitors. Could there be a purpose to this seemingly innocent activity? Surely there was more here than merely marking time.
The next contestant had the ability to become an inanimate object, then return to his own form. That was a good one, because normally transforming to, say, a block o
f wood would leave the person unable to speak or do anything, and he would be stuck. But again, that was all; there was no imaginative use of it, such as becoming a dress for a pretty girl to wear, and thus getting to appreciate her curves from up close.
Then came Mariah, with the talent of turning into a fox. She had devised elastic clothing that could handle either form.
How could this matter of judging a talent contest contribute to an edge for impressing the princess?
Maybe that was the key. Harmony was surely watching, and perhaps judging the judges by their decisions. Could she be looking for a mind rather than a physical gift? Would that put Bryce back in the running despite having no magic Object to offer? If so, he would have to try for it, because he was sure he did not want to suffer the wrath of a Demon for not campaigning hard enough.
Now a woman was demonstrating her talent of befriending birds. She could summon a sparrow to her hand, or get a roc to carry her. It was a good talent, but her use of it was no more than might be expected.
Judge not, lest ye be judged, Bryce thought. But he had to judge, and would be judged. At least he could advise the other Suitors, so they all had the same chance.
Now a man was showing how he could turn anything invisible, or visible. He demonstrated by making a woman’s clothing become invisible, so that she stood there in bra and panties. Then he made those invisible too. Fortunately she had a good figure. More fortunately, she was his wife, helping him make the demonstration. Another good talent, insufficiently exploited.
So Bryce had a hint about the importance of the presentation tomorrow. If only he had an Object to present!
Now a man demonstrated his talent of noticeability, making himself almost unnoticeable.
“Didn’t we see that before?” Lucky asked.
“That was anonymity,” Anna replied. “Similar, but not identical.”
A woman described and demonstrated her talent of Perspective. She walked away from her boyfriend until he looked to her to be only a few inches tall. Then she squinted, reached out, and picked him up as if he were a doll. He rose into the air. To others he did not look small, but what counted was how he looked to her. It was another potentially potent talent. She could probably move anything merely by standing far enough away from it to make it look small enough.
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