“You gave permission, and this was enough. That enabled him to learn what he wished to, without having to depart the Land of Xanth.”
“But if he had left, the magic would have gone too!”
“True. Most of it, at any rate. Just as the law of gravity would be repealed if the Demon E(A/R)th departed from Mundania. The natives probably wouldn't like that. So we prefer that the Demons not travel too much.”
“Amen!” Justin agreed.
Chlorine nodded, smiling. “We feel it appropriate for you to know the truth about Nimby. There may come times when you need to protect this knowledge from discovery elsewhere, as was the case with Magician Bink's talent. Do not reveal Nimby's nature to anyone else, any more than you reveal Bink's secret.”
“You know about that?”
“Nimby knows about everything he wishes to. He thanks you for your assistance, and your discretion.”
“Gee—thanks,” Breanna said, awed. “I never dreamed—”
“You dreamed; you did not remember. And if you should ever encounter something that you suspect warrants Nimby's attention, focus on his name, and we will soon make an appearance.” Then Chlorine looked through Breanna's eye to Justin. “And your own dream is not necessarily foolish. It can be realized, if you find the way before this day ends.”
“But it's impossible!” Justin protested.
“No. Merely improbable.” Then Chlorine and Nimby turned away.
“What dream?” Breanna asked.
“It's nothing. Just a completely foolish passing fancy.”
“What dream?” she repeated more firmly.
“Please, this is nothing you wish to know about.”
“Justin, if there's anything I really want to know about, it's whatever some adult says I don't want to know about. Come on—we're about to separate, so I won't have another chance. What was she talking about?”
He felt the pain again. “As you say, we are about to separate, our adventure together completed. There is no point in complicating it by an irrelevancy.”
Breanna paused, and he knew by her expression that she was working out a strategy. “Suppose we exchange secrets? I'll tell you mine, and you tell me yours.”
“No, that would not be wise.”
“Here's mine: I don't want you to go, Justin. I know you want to return to your tree, but I wish you would stay. I mean, beyond the adventure.”
“I would like to stay, but should not.”
“Why can't you? I really need your guidance. You have helped me grow up so much, and besides I like your company. I like it a lot.”
“And I like yours. But you have your own life to lead, without the complication of my presence.”
“What's your secret?”
“I did not make your deal.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I fear you would find it dismaying.”
“Tell me, Justin. Please.”
She was bound to have it. “It's similar in a certain respect to the situation Jenny found herself in. She—”
“She liked Jeremy too well. Justin—are you saying—?”
“I'm afraid I am. I like you too well, Breanna. So rather than embarrass you further—”
“Like a friend, or like a romance?”
“Like both. But of course that's ludicrous, because in actuality I am neither. I am an adviser and vicarious adventurer.”
“But I'm young and impulsive and militant, and sometimes I blow up for no good reason.”
“And I am old and staid and a tree, and sometimes I become too dictatorial in my advice. So there is no point in further discussion.”
Another guest was approaching. “This isn't finished,” Breanna said, and turned to meet the other.
But it soon would be, he knew. Perhaps that was just as well.
It turned out to be a pair of guests: Xeth and Zyzzyva Zombie. They were well-dressed, and looked very good, considering. He was in a suit and was handsome in a pale way, while she was in a low-cut formal gown that was attracting many gazes. Justin suspected that many guests did not even realize that these were zombies.
“We want to thank you for your timely help,” Xeth said. “You introduced us.”
“Well I just—you know,” Breanna said, embarrassed.
“Whatever your motive, we appreciate the result,” Zyzzyva said. “We thank Justin Tree too.”
“You are welcome,” Justin said through Breanna's mouth.
The couple moved on, mingling with the guests without awkwardness, and Justin was glad that Breanna had made an issue and gotten them admitted. They were well-preserved zombies—the very best preserved—and their nature hardly showed, but the principle was a good one. Breanna's surprising liberalization about zombies was carrying him along; zombies were indeed worthy folk in their own right.
“Now about that discussion,” Breanna said to him. “I thought you were mostly putting up with me, for the sake of having your adventure. I thought we got along well because you are so good at smoothing over my outbursts. At hiding your own feelings of disgust, and coming up with reasonable ways to interpret what you know is crazy, so I won't feel bad. Even when I went nuts and told you to go, you forgave me, instead of taking the chance to bug out. I thought you thought I was pretty much of a snot.”
“I never thought that!”
“Well, even if I was a perfect teen, there'd be things you'd find ridiculous. And I know I'm not perfect. That's why I need your guidance. You helped me get over my prejudice and be a better person. You never even saw me as black.”
“As what?”
“That's my point. Maybe it's because you're a tree. You understand about being different.”
“But you're not different, except in your inimitable character, which always did appeal to me. Your charmingly direct manner—”
“I'm just better with you than without you. That's why I wanted to keep you.”
“I can appreciate that. But now that you know my failing, there is no need to—”
“Failing?”
“I have admitted that I failed to maintain a proper objectivity with respect to your person. To keep the necessary emotional distance. This places you in an unfairly awkward position. It is in fact a tacit violation of the Adult Conspiracy. So it seems best to disengage immediately.”
“Let's see if I have this straight: you like me, so you want to leave?”
“That is essentially it, though I would use the word 'need' rather than 'want.' I need to vacate before I corrupt you.”
“Corrupt me! Justin, you never did anything of the kind! You helped me grow up where I needed to.”
“And now, by my transgression of emotion. I threaten to force on you the kind of awareness you should not yet encounter. I fear I have already said too much.”
She pondered a moment. “I have to tell, you, Justin, I wasn't, as you would put it, entirely candid with you either.”
“You have been more than polite, considering the affront.”
“I said I like you. Like you a lot. But that's an understatement, hiding the truth. I've got a Jenny problem too.”
“You are a good friend. Unfortunately I spoiled it. I wish you well with the man whose interest you seek.”
Her bosom heaved. “I was right: you don't understand about that. But now I'll tell you. There is no man. Not like that, I mean. Justin, I think I love you.”
“That is the very corruption that must be avoided! You can't—”
“Damn it, Justin, give me credit for knowing what I'm talking about. It isn't just storks or sex, it's love, and I think I know it when I feel it. I think I'm feeling it.”
He was almost dumbfounded. “That isn't possible, at your age and my circumstance. You mistake a passing fancy for—”
“The hell I do! I don't want to keep you because you give me good advice. I want to keep you because I can't stand to lose you. But I didn't want to be a brat about hanging on to you, when I know I'm just a child in your eyes. When I thou
ght you were just being diplomatic, encouraging me so as not to hurt my feelings. I guess that's why I blew up at you: I was mad because of the futility of my interest. But now that I know you care—”
“Oh. I do, Breanna! But this is absolute foolishness. We are merely mind companions. We can never be more.”
Her jaw set. “I want to make love with you.”
Justin reeled, mentally, emotionally. “This—this—even if it were possible, it would be forbidden, because—”
“I'm the one who rejected the Adult Conspiracy, remember? I think a girl is old enough if she thinks she is. If she knows what it's all about. I do know. And if she wants to. And I do want to. With you.”
“This is unacceptable. Your age—”
“Justin, if I were old enough, would you do it?”
It was as though he were sailing in a tiny boat on a treacherous sea in a storm. He wanted to be honest, but it was difficult. “I must confess I would want to. But even so, I wouldn't be able to. My age—”
“If you were young again.”
“But I'm not young, and in any event any such speculation would be corruptive to your innocence.”
“$$$$!”
The obscene expletive almost blew him away. “Breanna. please!”
“Then stop pretending I'm innocent. You can't corrupt me. because I already know the forbidden words and deeds. Do you want me to spell out exactly how folk summon the stork?”
He knew she wasn't bluffing. “I spoke figuratively. I am aware that you brought the knowledge with you from Mundania. But in experience, in this respect, you are innocent, and it would be a violation for me to even suggest that you take any such action with anyone.”
“All I want is a straight answer to a straight question. I think you owe me that much.”
He capitulated. “If I were young, and you of age, and you wished to, yes, I would do it. Not because of the personal pleasure there might be, but because the sweetest thing I can imagine is simply loving you and being loved by you. But since you are too young, and I too old, it is no fit subject for speculation.”
“Well, I'm brash and impulsive, and I have a notion.”
“I must confess that it is your very boldness and animation that draws me to you. Life with you could never be dull, regardless of the surrounding circumstances. What is your notion?”
“We must talk with the Zombie Master again.”
“With Jonathan? How could that relate?”
“Let's find out.” She marched across the hall to where the Zombie Master and Millie the Ghost were standing.
“Why hello, Breanna,” Millie said. “It is so nice to see you again.
We enjoyed your visit to Castle Zombie so much. You must come again.”
“Maybe I will, thanks.” She turned to the Zombie Master. “You're going to retire, aren't you?”
“When the Good Magician procures a suitable replacement for me,” he agreed.
“And for me,” Millie said. “We thought that Bink and Chameleon might be the ones, but it turns out that they aren't interested.”
Breanna nodded. “How about Justin Tree?”
The Zombie Master shook his head. “He is almost as old as I am, apart from his vegetable state.”
“For sure. But would he be good to do the job, apart from that? If he resumed human form?”
The Zombie Master considered her question seriously. “Yes, I believe he would. If he were interested. But the age—it does need to be a much younger person.”
“Someone Bink's age?”
“Yes. His present physical age. He is of course much older mentally.” Then he did a double-take. “Are you suggesting that Justin take the elixir of youth, as Bink did?”
“Yeah.”
“I think the Good Magician would provide it, for that purpose,” Millie said. “But there would still need to be a woman. The castle— the situation—would be too lonely otherwise. The zombies mean well, but they aren't good company on cold evenings.”
“How about a woman of eighteen, three years from now?”
The Zombie Master looked blank, but Millie understood immediately. “Oh, Breanna, yes! That would be beautiful. You have already done so much for the zombies.”
“Yeah, I guess I'm the zombie lover. But it's not just for them. It's because I want Justin. I want him human and young. As he could be, if someone with some clout spoke for him. I thought that maybe if you put in a word to the Good Magician—”
The Zombie Master shook his head. “I doubt I need to. This is surely what he has in mind. Assuming that Justin is amenable.”
Breanna turned inward, but spoke aloud. “Are you, Justin? Take my mouth.”
How neatly she had put it together! He was overwhelmed. “Yes!” he said with her mouth. “But still, in fairness, I must point out that you are not yet of age to make such a decision. You must wait three years. By that time you may have reconsidered.”
“How about this: we stay together that three years, just as we are now. Then we decide whether we still feel the same way, and want to do it. Maybe I'll have changed my mind, or you'll have changed yours. So we can stay together, or separate, or decide to take the position. Then we go to the Good Magician and ask him for the youth elixir. Then we go to your tree, and Magician Trent changes you back to human, and you take the elixir and turn twenty one. Then we get married and move to Castle Zombie for a long time, and stand up for the zombies when they need it. Does this make sense to you?”
Justin, amazed again, couldn't answer immediately. Her impulsiveness was absolutely delightful, but this was almost too much to assimilate. But Millie kissed Breanna, and the Zombie Master reached out and shook her hand. “It makes sense to us.”
Breanna caught Bink's eye, and he came over with Chameleon. “You won't need to worry about Castle Zombie,” Breanna said. “Justin and I may go there, in three years, when we're young enough and old enough.”
Bink smiled. “I am glad to hear it. It is a most convenient coincidence.”
Breanna laughed. “For sure! I'm glad you didn't take that position.” She stepped close and kissed him. “Thanks.”
Chameleon raised a brow. “Just what is your relationship with this girl?”
“There's just something about teenage girls that is appealing,” he said, kissing her. She, of course, was now sixteen.
“I remember,” the Zombie Master said, glancing at Millie.
Then the four of them dissolved into a dialogue about old times. Breanna faded back. “Come on, Justin—let's go somewhere and pretend that I'm eighteen and you're twenty one, and we're kissing.”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Of course not. But let's not tell, okay? Not for three years.”
But they were intercepted by another couple: Mare Imbri in human form, and her partner Forrest Faun. “Would you like a dream?” Imbri inquired.
“For sure! You know which one. Make it extra real.”
“My love is very good at making the unreal extra real,” Forrest remarked, patting Imbri's bottom.
“Are you trying to be a satyr instead of a faun?” Imbri asked him archly.
“No, I was trying to be more of a satire. The kind curse fiends hate, when they put on a play.”
“This play will be no satire. It's more of a romance.”
“But it wouldn't be proper to—” Justin started to protest. However, his heart wasn't in it. He longed for just such a dream.
Imbri looked into Breanna's eyes, and through them into Justin's eyes. “Dreams don't have to be proper,” she murmured. “That's part of what the Demon learned.”
Then reality dissolved, and Justin was a virile young man, and Breanna was a lovely black eighteen. They were alone in the glade that once had been filled by his tree form. It was some dream, whose naughty details they would never tell.
Epilogue
The Good Magician Humfrey made his way to one of the few secluded spots on the Castle Roogna premises: the rose garden. The roses
were beautiful, fragrant, and restful. He sat down amidst them, closing his old eyes.
“How nice to see you again, Humfrey.”
He didn't open his eyes. “Go away, Clio; I'm not ready for another challenging historical nexus.”
She laughed. “Have no concern; I will be occupied for some time recording this one. What a delightful girl!”
“Jenny is no girl. She's a married woman, thanks to our meddling.”
“And Breanna?”
He nodded. “There are appealing qualities about her, despite her youth. She is direct and forthright and determined, and quite ready to challenge the status quo—exactly the kind of representative the zombies need to combat the prejudice of the rest of Xanth. When Mare Imbri told me about her connection with Nimby—”
“Nimby,” the Muse of History repeated thoughtfully. “He gave her back her memory of his true nature.”
“Just as Bink told her of the nature of his talent. It is all information Justin Tree may need, when he becomes the new Zombie Master. It is a more important position than most folk realize.”
It was her turn to nod. “Indubitably. Bink is fortunate. He and Chameleon have a second youth to spend—all so they could serve as an example to those who needed to think of youthening to similar ages. So that they could achieve their necessary if unlikely destinies.”
“And so Bink could handle the rigors of the rest of the mission. and ensure via his talent that it not come to grief.” Humfrey finally cracked open half an eye. “Now if you are quite done reminiscing about the obvious—”
Clio laughed. “For now. But brace yourself; the next volume promises to be more complicated, with a special irrelevant significance.”
The Good Magician groaned.
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