“It may not be just chance,” he said.
“What do you mean? I was trying to escape Xeth Zombie, and you were trying to find your way home. Neither of us knew or cared about the other. I was even asleep when you arrived. So our paths crossed randomly.”
“Let me see if I can explain. My life is less random than it seems, because of my talent”
“What is your talent, if it's okay to ask? They call you a king, which means you must have a Magician-caliber magic talent, but I haven't seen anything, no offense.”
“My talent normally conceals itself from others,” Bink said. “If I am able to tell you about it, it will be because you have some need to know. It is—” he hesitated, as if afraid something was going to stop him. “That I cannot be harmed by magic.” He looked surprised. “And you must indeed have a need to know.”
“I don't need to know anything. I'm just foolishly curious. Do you mean that if someone hurls a bad spell at you, it won't land?”
“More than that. No magical creature will do me harm, no magic plant will hurt me, no magic of the inanimate will act against me. But because someone might find a way to circumvent or nullify my talent if its nature were generally known, my talent conceals itself. So it usually acts indirectly.”
“Fascinating,” Justin Tree remarked.
“Suppose a dragon chomps you? That's pretty direct, and you'd need direct protection.”
“Yes. So the dragon will not try to chomp me, or if it does try, something seemingly coincidental will interfere so that it doesn't happen. Another dragon might appear on the scene, distracting it, or it might fall in a hole it didn't see because it was looking at me instead of the ground,”
“But then how can you tell that it is your talent protecting you? That it isn't all just coincidence?”
He smiled. “It protects me through coincidence. And few folk ever suspect. You can test this. Try harming me nonmagically.”
Breanna was abashed. “Oh, I would never—”
“Not seriously. Just enough to ascertain that you could do it if you wanted to.”
“Okay. I'm going to push you out of the boat.” He was beside her on the seat. She put her hands against his shoulder and pushed. He tilted. She pushed harder. He was in danger of falling over into the water.
She desisted. “I guess I could do it, if you didn't fight back.”
“Now try to harm me magically.”
“But I don't have any—” Then she remembered the protection racket. Was it still working? She tried banging her hand against the wooden seat, lightly, then harder, then harder yet.
“Hey!” the boat protested. “You're going to damage me!”
“Sorry, Para.” The racket was working, because she had suffered no pain. She looked at Bink and raised her fist. “I have this magic protection, so I can hit without being hurt. Are you sure—?”
“Yes. Try to hit me.”
“Okay,” she said dubiously. She aimed a blow at his nose, but pulled her punch without touching him. “Bink, there's nothing stopping me. I can't do this to you.”
“Do it,” he said firmly.
So she aimed for his cheek and tried a light blow. It landed. “Bink, I tell you, there's nothing stopping me. I don't dare try to really—”
“Let me try it,” Justin said.
“Okay.” She relinquished control of her arm to him.
Her arm lifted, formed a tight fist, and shot directly toward Bink's nose.
The boat suddenly swerved, causing the fist to miss, and she sprawled halfway across Bink's lap. “Sorry,” the boat said. “There was a piece of sharp wreckage I didn't see until the last moment, and I had to swerve. Usually I'm more alert.”
Breanna picked herself up, unconvinced. “That was sheer coincidence.”
“I don't think so”
“Let me try again.” She addressed Bink, putting her right hand behind his head and lifting her left fist. “I'm going to hate myself in a moment,” she said grimly. “But I've got to know.” She shot her fist forward at his nose.
A large soft ball flew between them. Her fist punched into it, and it pressed against Bink's face, cushioning the blow so that he wasn't hurt. Where had the ball come from?
A snout poked out of the water. “May we have our ball back, miss?” the sea creature inquired. “Sorry it got in your way.”
“Who or what are you?” Breanna asked it.
“I am a manatee,” it said. “I was just playing a ball game with my family.”
Three more snouts appeared. “I am his wife, the womanatee,” a large one said.
“I'm his son, the boyatee,” a smaller one said.
“I'm his daughter, the girlatee,” the smallest one said.
A fifth snout appeared, rising into an animal head. “And I'm the Seal of Approval,” it said. “Family games are good. You wouldn't want to interfere, would you?”
“Oh, of course not,” Breanna said, embarrassed. She tossed the ball down to them.
The seal caught it expertly on its nose and flipped it to the nearest tee. The family game resumed as they swam away from the boat.
“Don't forget what you were doing,” Bink reminded her gently.
Breanna considered. “I don't see how coincidence could stretch that far. That ball had to be deliberate.”
“Yes. Not by the tees or you. By my talent.”
“Okay, so you can't be harmed by magic. But that doesn't change the coincidence of our meeting. I could have come here any other day.”
“On the contrary,” Justin said. “You were traveling because the zombie kissed you. The three kings were traveling because the zombies were stirred up looking for you. The events are connected.”
“I believe that we were required to interact,” Bink said. “There must be some devious magical threat to my well-being, so my talent is acting to turn it aside by seeming coincidence. So it put us together, and is keeping us together. This adventure is clearly not yet finished.”
“So my whole adventure is just to help you avoid some magical threat?”
“Not necessarily. My talent may simply be borrowing from what is most convenient. You were in the vicinity, so it arranged to have you join us. You certainly were helpful in getting us to the Isle, and in shielding us from initial problems with the women of the Isle. There may be more coming.”
“Well, if that's why I'm here, I like it,” she decided. “But what could threaten three Magicians?”
“It may not be a physical threat.” Bink said. “It could be something that I need to get done, lest I be truly pained by failure to do so. I don't know what that might be, but perhaps it will be apparent after it has been accomplished.” He paused, thoughtfully. “For one thing, Chameleon and I were youthened by sixty years, and there was surely reason for that. There must be something I can accomplish as a young man that I could not as an old one. I admit it's nice to be young again, physically, but so far I have seen no real justification for it.”
“It is a good question. Youth is not granted to folk just because they may want it. If it were, every living person would be perpetually young.”
“I don't know. Being young doesn't seem all that great to me.”
“It is the nature of life to have unrealistic dreams. You should enjoy your youth while you have it.”
“Maybe so.” But she was unconvinced.
“Land ahoy!” Prince Dolph called from up front.
“That's the Isle of Wolves,” the boat said. It moved to shore, waddled onto the beach, and stopped. “King Wolverton's den is down that path.”
“Thank you,” King Dor said as they disembarked. “I hope our trade of conveyances was worthwhile for you.”
“It certainly was,” Para replied. “I loved flying. And it was nice being able to talk aloud. And peering up under girl's skirts.”
“I kept my skirt close and tight!” Breanna retorted hotly.
“But Tipsy Troll didn't, and her legs were pretty good, considering.”
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“Well, good luck peeking under other skirts,” Breanna said, mollified. She was discovering that this particular game could be fun to play, so her outrage was mostly for show.
They walked down the path, and the boat waddled to the sea and paddled smoothly away. On impulse Breanna turned and waved to it, and saw it rock from side to side, waving back.
“You are becoming more solicitous of others, including the inanimate,” Justin commented.
“So?”
“I favor it.”
Suddenly a wolf appeared. Its fur was metallic. It screeched to a stop when it saw them; the squeal came from its four paws scraping along the ground. Then it became a man. He was furry enough on the body to remain fairly decent. “Who are you, and what do you want here?” he demanded.
“We are three kings and a young woman, come to see King Wolverton.”
“How did you reach this isle? The interface is off.”
“We were conveyed by Para, the web-footed boat, from the Isle of Women.”
“You couldn't have gotten away from there unmarried.”
“We are married. The woman is beneath the age of marriage.”
“Oh.” The werewolf reconsidered. “I am Wolfram. Follow me.” He resumed wolf form and loped back down the path.
Soon they came to a hill. A sign labeled it Wolverton Mountain. This was evidently the home of the king wolf.
Sure enough, a large wolf emerged from a den as they reached the top of the hill. He became a man. “Why, you are King Dor of Xanth,” he said, surprised. “The one who makes things talk.”
“You bet, bushytail!” the nearest stone called.
“Yes,” King Dor agreed. “We accidentally drank some lethe water, and forgot where our home is. If you would be so kind as to tell us—”
“I'll be glad to—after you do a service for me.”
“Listen, furface—” Breanna started.
But Justin cut her off. “We are on their Isle. It is best to honor their conventions.“
“Of course,” King Dor said smoothly. “What can we do for you?”
“You can talk my son Jeremy into doing his duty and starting training to assume the kingship when I pass on to that great other hunting ground.”
“He doesn't want to be king after you?” King Dor asked, surprised.
“He is in a mottled funk, and doesn't want to do anything.”
“Well, we'll talk to him,” King Dor agreed.
King Wolverton led them to the mottled funk, which turned out to be a grove of mottled funk trees. “He is in there.”
Breanna smelled a strong, unpleasant odor: the smell of the funk blooms. It made her feel sad. She knew that no funks smelled good, but mottled funks were the worst.
They entered the grove, and soon discovered Jeremy Wolf, in wolf form, asleep on a bed of funk berries. The smell was verging into stench. “Hello,” King Dor said.
“Go away,” the funk bed said.
Prince Dolph assumed the form of a wolf. “Woof!” he said.
Prince Jeremy opened one eye. It was obvious that he was a prince, because there was a small golden crown on his head. “Woof!” he retorted negatively.
So Bink tried. “We'd like to talk to you.”
The face of the wolf became halfway human. “What you would like has no bearing.”
“Let me try,” Breanna said impulsively. She got down and planted a hot kiss on the face.
The eyes widened. The humanity spread from the face through the rest of the body, making him into a large and somewhat clumsy person. He still wore the crown. “Wow!” Jeremy said as a vaguely heart-shaped cloudlet dissipated.
“I think some of the lip balm remained,” Justin remarked.
“Serves him right.”
Jeremy gazed at Breanna. “How old are you. Black Wave maiden?”
“Fifteen, of course. What's it to you?”
Jeremy sighed. “Too young.”
“Too young for what?” she demanded, though she had a pretty good idea.
“Too young to be my ideal mate.”
“I'm nobody's ideal mate, and least of all yours. I've already been through all that with one king. What kind of a girl do you think I am?” Jeremy assumed wolf form and stared at her. Then he returned to human form. “I think you are an assertive runaway from your home village, with the talent of seeing in blackness, and a tree in your mind.”
“He knows!” Justin exclaimed, amazed.
“How do you know that?” Breanna demanded, shaken.
“In my natural form I can read minds,” Jeremy said. “Unfortunately, I can't do it in manform. I constantly seek a way to have that part of my talent expanded. Do you know a way?”
“No! And I don't want you poking around in my mind, so kindly remain in manform.”
“You have spirit, and you're cute. I wish you were the one.”
“Well, I'm not. So why don't you do what your father wants and go into training for kingship?”
“Because of the curse.”
“What curse?” Nobody else seemed to be talking, so Breanna figured it was up to her.
“It is complicated.”
“Well, maybe we can help.”
“I doubt it. But you might as well know. When I was young I roamed out from the isle, across the continent of Xanth, heedless of anything. I had no fear of monsters, because I could read their minds, and evade them before they could close on me. So I was somewhat reckless, and I fear in retrospect, at times obnoxious.”
“Express sympathy, now that you have him talking. We need to know his problem.“
“Well, we all get that way at times,” Breanna said.
“But I was chronically that way. Finally it caught up with me. In my brash ignorance I trampled a private garden of boysenberries and girlsenberries, ruining the crop. An old Curse Fiend Woman came out, saw the damage, and cursed me.”
“The curse fiends all have the same talent they can blast a hole in the ground or kill trees or blow people into oblivion with their curses.”
“That must have been painful,” Breanna said.
“This wasn't a normal curse. She was one of their ranking people, and had perfected a worse curse.”
Breanna had an idea. “Can you project your thoughts too? So you can show me exactly what happened?”
Jeremy assumed wolf form. Then, suddenly, Breanna found herself in the trampled berry patch, with little boysen and girlsenberries squished all around her, their juice on her fur.
The old Curse Fiend appeared. “You despicable creature!” she shouted. “You have ruined my crop! May you be cursed to suffer as you have made me suffer.”
“How's that?” Breanna Werewolf asked.
“These berries would have brought delight to courting couples, enabling them to recognize their ideal partners. So you will suffer the same loss of delight. There will be only one perfect life's companion for you, a foreign woman, but you will not be able to find her. She will have to find you, and you will know her only when she declares her love for you. But she will not know that you are her ideal mate, so will not look for you. And when she passes the age of twenty one without finding you, the two of you will never get together, and you will be doomed to be with some lesser creature, knowing that you might have had perfect happiness, but forfeited it by being thoughtless and stupid. Now depart, you cretin; the curse is complete.”
Breanna departed, her tail between her legs. She knew that every word of the curse was true.
“That is one awful curse! No wonder he is dejected. Why should he want to be king, knowing that he will never have his perfect love?”
She came out of it, and was herself again. The three kings were looking at her. “Jeremy has a real problem,” she said.
The werewolf, back in human form, nodded agreement. “I have looked everywhere, but found no perfect woman. Oh, there have been many who expressed interest in me, but when they did, I know they were not the one. They just wanted to be princesses or queens
. I want the one who will love me for what I truly am, not caring about my status. I must find her before she passes twenty one, or lose her forever. And I can't find her.”
“But that's not the curse,” Breanna said. “She has to find you.”
“I have searched by ranging widely, telling women of the curse, so that if any should be the right one, she will be encouraged to come to me. That is how I have tried to nullify that aspect. But it has all been for naught. I fear my true love has already passed the critical age, and I am forever lost.”
“This is a negative assumption. He is clearly in this funk because he has given up hope of success.“
“Okay. Jeremy,” Breanna said in businesslike fashion. “Either she's over twenty one and it's too late, or she isn't. There's no point in figuring she's over, because that's hopeless. So you have to figure she's under, and you can still find her, or rather, have her find you. Because that's the only way you can possibly win.”
The werewolf prince gazed at her somewhat hopelessly. “What can I do, that I have not already done?”
“Let's get some basics established first. If you find your true love, will you agree to start training for the kingship?”
“Yes, of course. I have nothing against it. It's just that without my true love, I have no ambition for anything else.”
“Okay. So as I see it, maybe you just need to make yourself more attractive to that ideal girl. Which is funny, in a way.”
“Funny? I'm depressed.”
“Not funny you; funny thought. I just came from the Isle of Women, where I was helping a lady zombie learn to be more appealing to a king. Now I have to show a prince how to be more appealing to a lady. I'm no expert, either way, but at least the lady zombie did get the king.”
“If you can enable me to get my true love, I will be forever in your debt.”
“Actually, I'm just trying to help the three kings. They've had a whole lot more experience with women than I have.”
Bink laughed. “But we lack one prime prerequisite: we are not female.”
“Which may be why you are here. The distaff perspective is required.“
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