In yet another, Cory and Tessa exchanged heights. Clio and Sherlock hardly changed; they were average and remained so. Thus being in the center range was a safeguard.
Then Sherlock turned supremely handsome without changing his age or color. And Clio had genuine curves.
"You may stay the night here, if you wish," Cory said. "It is getting late."
"Kay and Drek are already bringing food for supper," Tessa said. "And a tent with bedding."
Clio started to protest, but couldn't get the words out. To spend the night in this condition—it was wickedly tempting. Where else was it even possible?
"Why not?" Sherlock asked rhetorically.
They had a nice meal of wholesome fruits and juices, with no boot rear or other puns. No pies either; they did not grow on trees. It was odd but satisfying.
Drew and Drusie elected to go with Drek to see dragon things, knowing they were unlikely to have another chance. Both of them found this land fascinating.
"It is safe here," Kay said. "We'll pick you up in the morning." She and the others departed.
Thus suddenly, Clio and Sherlock were alone. "You know this isn't coincidence," Clio said.
"They set it up," he agreed. "They regard us as a couple, and they assumed we would want to take full advantage of this setting."
"Why did you agree to this?"
"Because I relate singularly well to this land, and want to experience more of it. Also, we have a serious matter to discuss, and this gives us privacy we can't otherwise have."
He certainly had a point. "I thought you might find a pretext to depart, once you saw me curveless."
"Let's prepare for bed, and talk before we sleep."
Was he avoiding the issue? They took turns washing in the nearby stream and changing to the night clothing their hosts had thoughtfully provided. It was totally dark as they settled down within the tent, lying beside each other.
"Did you peek as I washed?" she asked.
"I did," he admitted. "I couldn't help myself. You are absolutely lovely."
"So did I. You are such a handsome man, at the moment."
"It is true that I admired your curves from the outset," Sherlock said. "I am after all a man; this is what men do. But that was never the main barrier between us."
"My supposed curves were a barrier?"
"Yes, because what would such a beautiful woman want with an old and thoroughly ordinary man? My foolish days are behind me; I learned realism about women the unkind way."
"And never married."
"I can't blame them. I never had much to recommend me."
"You were a good and decent man!"
"What is your point?"
This set her back. Obviously the woman of the Black Wave had been more interested in handsome, powerful, or otherwise impressive men. Sherlock had been unimpressive. She had seen it before; young women could be foolish.
"But I am not young, regardless of my appearance, with or without curves," she said. "I do value decency. And you have other admirable qualities I have come to know. I would like to have a closer relationship with you."
"Perhaps."
Now she was nettled. "Is it some failing in me? I confess I have no direct personal experience with men. If I have made blunders, perhaps that is to be expected. If I have offended you, I deeply regret it. I hope you will tell me where I went wrong."
He reached out and took her hand in the darkness. "You have not gone wrong, Clio. I think I love you."
She had hoped for candor, and for a positive outcome, but this was more than anticipated. "You—think?"
"I have learned caution in all things. Things and people are not necessarily what they appear to be, or may have hidden aspects. I myself am a constantly changing mystery, and not merely because of my surprising affinity for reverse wood. I know better than to speak with any certainty of my own emotion. But it seems to answer the description of love."
She kept a tight rein on her own emotion. "Isn't love impulsive and heedless of consequences?"
"Young love is," he agreed. "But I am not young. I have made many mistakes in my life, and on occasion learned things I would rather not have known. I would truly regret making a mistake in love."
He was making absolute sense. She hated it. "Can't you be romantic and impulsive this one night?"
His answer was oblique. "You are cursed to encounter danger every day of your life, while you are out in Xanth."
"Yes, of course. You have seen it."
"I have. What threat did you face today?"
She paused, reviewing the day. "None that I know of. That's odd."
"It means you have yet to face it."
"But we are assured of safety here," she said doubtfully.
"Physical safety."
"Yes. What other kind is there?"
"Emotional. I suspect the danger you face is passion. Perhaps it is that you wish to make a commitment that will destroy you."
She was horrified. "To you? Sherlock, I can't believe that you would ever seek to hurt me!"
"Never intentionally. That is why we are having this discussion."
"I don't understand."
"You are a princess and a Muse. You must marry a prince. How could you do so if you soiled yourself with me?"
Her horror doubled. "You're not a prince!"
"I am not a prince," he agreed. "And will never be."
For a moment that was rather longer than it should be, she was in chaos. Then she recovered. "Not so. When ordinary girls marry princes, they become princesses. It happened to Electra and to Jenny Elf. It works the other way, too; Princess Melody will marry Anomie in the future and make him a prince. If I marry you, you'll be a prince."
Now he paused. "I had not thought of it that way. Still, you are the Muse of History, while I am nobody. I am not worthy of you."
"I don't care about that!"
"But I do, and consideration of your curse seems to confirm it. You dare not waste yourself on me. That is the threat you face today, and I must protect you from it."
"But you say you love me!"
"Yes. I am doing my utmost not to hurt you."
"I can't accept this."
"Then I will clarify the matter. I know that before I can be anything other than a passing companion to you, I must prove myself worthy of you. I doubt I will ever be able to do that, but I don't know the future. Should I commit to you without that worthiness, you would inevitably tire of me and regret your mistake."
"That is more brutally clear than I like."
"But sensible. I would like nothing better than union with you. But I must bring more than decency or even love to it. Otherwise I would be tying you down."
"I can't stand this!"
"You are being emotional. You are cursed to die young, unless you remain continually on Mount Parnassus. You want to experience life and love while you have the chance, knowing that your window of opportunity is brief. You have fixed on me as a prospect, but I believe you are being overwhelmed by the desire for romance rather than by sensible consideration."
"That's not so!"
"Then say you love me."
Clio opened her mouth—and burst into tears. She couldn't say it. He had fathomed her feeling and found its weakness. Her passion was driven by something other than true love.
"Oh, Sherlock," she said at last. "I'm so sorry."
She felt his wan smile in the darkness. "So am I."
So they slept, holding hands but doing no more. They had achieved understanding, but it was awful. His present handsomeness and her beauty were wasted on each other.
In the morning they woke, cleaned, dressed, and this time openly admired each other. It was all they could do, each knowing the other wished for so much more. Clio had never been flirtatious, but now she tried, and Sherlock responded. They were like lovers who hadn't quite caught on. Unfortunately they had caught on, and the understanding was brutal. The fault was in her, for the words she couldn't quite say. Damn his hones
ty, and hers.
In due course the others arrived. Tell nothing, Clio thought silently to Drew. She knew Sherlock was warning Drusie similarly. The truth could not be concealed from the little dragons, but it did not have to be shared with anyone else.
Cory and Tessa opened a sidestepping aisle, and Karia and Drek carried them along it, back to the central mountain range and the tunnel to Xanth proper. Clio thanked the centaur and dragon for their kindness.
Back at the Gap Chasm house, Cube took one look at them and winced. "Oh, I'm sorry."
We didn't tell, Drew thought.
Cube immediately carried on with other matters, saying no more. Cleo realized that it was simply woman's intuition. Women could have very sharp awareness of the feelings of others. Neither Clio nor Sherlock were romantically experienced; they probably emitted unconscious signals. They would have to watch that.
They thanked Cory and Tessa, and Cube and Ryver, and went back up to the invisible bridge. But they did not go over it; their next connection would be with Com Pewter, to set up the connection between realms. Pewter resided north of the Gap.
They followed the enchanted path generally north. "Walking seems slow, after the rides we had," Sherlock remarked.
"I agree," she said, laughing. It felt good to laugh; it eased the pain of her personal failure. "We have become spoiled."
"Let's be spoiled. Can we find rides? I'm willing to trade reverse wood chips, if anyone wants them."
"We can look for steeds," Drew said.
"Do that," Clio said.
The two little dragons flitted from their pockets and disappeared into the sky.
"Now that we are alone," Sherlock said, "May I presume?"
"I don't understand."
"Our relationship may not have a future, but it does have the present. I want to kiss you."
She was taken aback. "Oh. I thought—"
"You tend to think too much. So do I." He took her into his arms and kissed her.
She clung to him, kissing him back. Half a welter of impressions clustered around them, ranging from fond to naughty, before they broke for breath. "Oh, Sherlock," she gasped. "I've never been kissed before! I mean, not like that. I'm floating."
"I can't say I have been either," he said. "But it's very nice."
"Let's do it again."
"We really shouldn't, considering our lack of commitment. It isn't proper."
"Oh, fudge!" She hugged him and kissed him again.
After one or more timeless moments—she was unable to focus on counting—they broke again. "Oh, Clio," he said. "I wish we could do this forever."
"Despite my lack of curves?"
"And despite my lack of handsomeness."
"We don't seem to need those things," she said. "Yet last night, when we had them—"
"We wasted them. I've regretted it ever since."
It had been only a few hours, but she knew what he meant. "Me too. If we get another opportunity, let's not waste it. As you say, we do have the present."
"I agree." They kissed again, and though it was the third one in succession, the feeling didn't fade. If anything, it was stronger.
"We are adults," she said. "We can do anything we want, and we don't have to commit to anything beyond the present."
"That makes it feasible," he agreed.
"So why didn't we think of that last night?"
"I think I will never understand that."
"I think I do. We were looking at the future."
"And it blotted out the present," he agreed. "So we lost our recent past."
"Let's see if we can recover some of it."
They were about to go into another clinch, but the dragons returned. "We found a roc bird," Drew said as he came to Clio's pocket.
"A roc!" Clio exclaimed, putting herself straight. She had gotten pleasantly mussed, a condition the dragons surely noticed but refrained from remarking on.
"A small one," Drusie said. "He'll be here in an instant."
And in an instant, the sky darkened as a huge bird glided down. "This is Pebbl Roc," Drew said.
Pebbl landed on the path before them. He was big for a bird, but very small for a roc, standing about their own height. He squawked.
"He says he is pleased to meet the Muse of History, and wants to know how he can help," Drew translated.
Clio realized that a bird could fit a lot of dialog into a single squawk. "Well, I'm not sure. We were looking for rides to Com Pewter's cave." She didn't need to add that this miniature roc was too small to carry them anywhere.
Pebbl squawked again. "He says he'll scout the area," Drew said. "He can cover much more territory than we can, and he knows the local folk. He'll locate suitable steeds for you."
"Thank you," Clio said.
The little roc spread his wings and took off. There was a blast of air as he powered upward. Even a little roc was a lot of bird.
"So what did we miss?" Drew asked.
"You dragons need to learn to be more sneaky," Sherlock said with a smile. "Then you wouldn't have to ask."
"Oh, we did miss something!" Drusie said, disappointed.
"It was just some kissing," Clio said. "Like this." She embraced Sherlock and kissed him again.
"Oh, that's so romantic," Drusie said. "I wish we had seen it."
"Well, maybe there'll be another time," Sherlock said.
There was a galloping sound. "Ah—one is coming," Drew said. "A centaur."
"I like riding on centaurs," Clio said, remembering Kay.
The centaur hove into view, her hair swirling around her bare human top as she braked to a halt. "Hello. I'm Chele. A little roc bird told me I was needed here."
"It is true that we have a distance to travel, and could use some assistance," Clio said. "I am Clio, and this is Sherlock. We are going to Com Pewter's cave."
"I'll be glad to carry one of you to it, but I won't go inside. Pewter is notorious for changing things in there."
Clio nodded. "No need for you to do that. We shall merely speak with him briefly, then head for Mount Pinatuba, south of the Gap Chasm."
"Oh, that sounds exciting. But I don't know the way to the volcano."
"We do. We can direct you, if you care to make that much of a journey."
"I do. I understand Pinatuba is quite impressive."
"He is."
There was another sound of galloping hooves. "That's a unicorn," Drew said.
"A unicorn! We hardly ever see one of those in Xanth."
"Paucity of virgins," Sherlock murmured.
The unicorn came into sight. It was a filly with a bluish coat and blue horn. She eyed them warily before approaching.
"I am Clio, unfortunately virginal," Clio said.
"I am too," Sherlock said.
"I'm not, not that it matters," Chele said. Centaurs were quite open about natural functions. "I've had three foals."
"Fortunately you don't need a ride," Sherlock said.
The unicorn came near, avoiding Chele. "There's something different about her," Drew said.
Then the unicorn abruptly became a human girl. She had dirty blond hair to her waist and dark blue eyes the same color as the unicorn's horn. Clio's jaw dropped. "You're a crossbreed!"
"I am Danielle Girl/Unicorn," she agreed. "A little roc bird told me I was needed here."
"We would like rides to Com Pewter's cave," Clio said. "Then south to Pinatuba, the volcano."
"We don't have much to trade for such assistance," Sherlock said. "Just some chips of reverse wood."
Danielle jumped away so quickly that her blue panties showed. They matched her eyes. "I don't want to be reversed!"
"No need," Clio said. "He just meant that—" She paused, for Sherlock was standing motionless. Oh—the surprise glimpse of panties had freaked him out. She snapped her fingers to bring him to. "He just meant that if you have any likely need, such as if you travel into monster country, you could carry a chip in a bag and use it to reverse some obnoxious creat
ure."
Danielle reconsidered. "Yes, I could use something like that. Sometimes men who aren't—well, they try to—such a chip could be handy."
They worked it out, putting reverse wood chips into two small bags so that they could not be touched by accident, and giving them to the filly and girl. Then Sherlock mounted Chele and Clio mounted the unicorn, and they galloped northward toward Com Pewter's cave.
Then Clio saw something running along the ground ahead of them. There were two of them, looking like leapfrogging bunnies, except that they had no legs or heads or tails. They were just open objects, hollow from above, moving rapidly. One would leap ahead, passing the other. But when it landed the other leaped and passed it back. It was weird.
"What are those?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh, they're just running shoes," Chele said. "There are several pairs in this area. They're harmless. They come out for exercise."
"A pun!" Clio said, laughing weakly. "We're back in Xanth!"
"How could you have been anywhere else?" Drew asked. "I am speaking for Danielle, who can't talk at the moment."
"We just visited Counter Xanth," Clio explained. "That's like Xanth, only everything is reversed, and there are no puns. We were there only a day and night, but somehow I got accustomed to the change."
"It sounds rather dull," Chele said.
"It really isn't. It's just different."
They came to a large chain across the path in the center it had one very active link that glowed and danced about as if trying to go somewhere else. "I don't recognize that," Chele said. "We'll have to move it out of the way."
"Don't touch it," Clio said, jumping to the ground. "It might be my Danger of the Day."
"But there shouldn't be any dangers on the enchanted path."
"I am cursed to encounter danger regardless," Clio said. "That curse might override the positive enchantment."
"Maybe I can nullify it with a chip," Sherlock said, also dismounting.
"First let me find out what it is," Clio said.
"Don't risk—" he said, alarmed.
But she was already touching the active link.
Suddenly she was in Mundania; she recognized it by the dull houses and listless vegetation. What had happened? Whatever it was had put her into danger, because she had little idea how to survive in this alien land. Worse, she had carried Drew Dragon into danger too; he was now a frightened lizard in her pocket.
Currant Events Page 22