Zombie Lover

by Anthony, Piers

  She went to the entrance. A woman was just approaching it from inside. The woman listened, then turned her head toward Breanna, her eyes seeming not quite to focus. “Hello, Breanna and Justin,” she said. “And Mare Imbri. I am Wira, the Good Magician’s daughter-in-law. I will show you to his study.”

  “Thank you,” Breanna said, surprised. “How do you know our names?”

  “The Good Magician saw you coming, and told me. He assumes you know the price of an Answer.” Wira glanced at her, but again her gaze missed by a vague amount.

  As usual, Breanna spoke before she thought. “Are you blind?”

  “Yes. But I know this castle well, and will get you safely where you need to be.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean that you couldn’t—” But it was already impossibly awkward, so she cut her losses and shut up.

  “She’s not upset,” Imbri murmured, assuming girlform in these closer quarters. “She’s Hugo’s wife, and is one of the few folk for whom Humfrey is genuinely fond, though he doesn’t speak of it. She knows, though.” Then, after a pause: “I need to go now. I think the Good Magician will take care of you.”

  “Sure, thanks,” Breanna said. “You’ve done more than enough for me.”

  Mare Imbri faded out.

  Breanna followed Wira through the labyrinth of the castle, up a tightly winding staircase, and to a dingy cubby where a century-old gnome pored over a huge archaic tome. “Good Magician, here are Breanna of the Black Wave, and Justin Tree of the North Village, here to ask you Questions.”

  The gnome looked up. “State your Questions.”

  “Justin Tree wishes to have a nice adventure, without changing from being a tree,” Breanna said. She paused, in case Justin had a correction to make. He didn’t. “I want to find out how to escape the zombies.”

  The Good Magician’s gaze was disconcertingly like Wira’s, and Breanna realized that he was looking through her to Justin. “You could have an adventure as a tree if a dragon were to toast your foliage.”

  “Not that kind!” Justin protested. “A human type adventure.” Breanna started to translate, but the Good Magician raised his hand. “Rhetorical. I know the kind he wants. His best Answer requires the service of another person.” Now his old eyes focused on Breanna. “That person is you.”

  “Me!”

  “He must vicariously share the adventure of a person in human form, with that person’s consent. The best person, considering availability, compatibility, and interest of adventure, is you. But there are two constraints. You are beneath the age of consent, which means indoctrination into the Adult Con—”

  “No I’m not!” she protested. “I reject the Adult Conspiracy.” “Therefore that is not an issue,” he continued, unsurprised. “The other is that you are female, and may not wish to share your feelings with a male mind. It is my policy not to require unkind service for an Answer. Therefore if you wish to decline, and to perform some other service for your Answer—”

  “No, that’s okay,” Breanna said. “I was just caught off guard. Justin’s okay; I like him. He can share my adventure if he wants to.” She found the decision surprisingly easy to make. It was almost as if she had thought something like this out before, and agreed. It wasn’t as if she planned to do anything she might be ashamed of. She realized that Justin had been not only helpful on the challenges, but nice company. He didn’t act superior, the way too many older folk were too likely to do, and he didn’t come across as prejudiced against the Black Wave. She liked him. It was weird, because she hadn’t been looking for any friends among whites, males, or trees, but there it was. There was just something about him. Maybe it was his archaic courtesy.

  “Then that will be your service, which will terminate in a year or by mutual agreement.” His eyes refocused on Justin. “Your service will be to be on call indefinitely as a consultant for selections, challenges, and solutions.”

  “You need help on such things?” Justin asked, surprised. Breanna repeated it aloud.

  “It takes time to research and decide which querents are worthy, and to devise and institute challenges that will discourage those who are not serious without eliminating the worthy,” Humfrey said. “The services of those who assisted before are concluding. Things have become awkward, and we stand in need of intellectual assistance. It will not be necessary for you to leave your tree site or to interrupt your personal adventure; the work is intellectual.”

  “I will be glad to do it,” Justin said. “It will make me feel useful again.”

  Breanna realized that the Good Magician respected Justin’s intellect in much the way she did. The tree-man was smart and balanced. Maybe his time as a tree had filled out his intellect.

  Humfrey focused again on Breanna. “You can escape the pursuit of the zombies by going to the Isle of Women. This isle is not easy to locate, so you will be guided by one who knows the way. Wira will introduce you, and give you what you need.”

  “Gee, thanks,” she said. But the Good Magician had already tuned her out, and was back in his tome.

  “This way,” Wira said, and led the way back down the stairs. Breanna suspected that there was plenty yet to discover. But that was okay, because not only was she about to escape the zombies, she had gained a good companion.

  “Thank you,” Justin said.

  6

  WORLDS BEYOND KEN

  Dolph still found it strange, becoming small enough to enter a world he knew was the size of a large cherry. In fact, since they were already on a world that size, this one was that much smaller. It made his imagination begin to shrivel, so he tuned that out and just focused on where they were going.

  The four-sided triangle that was Pyramid expanded. It was rotating, and he saw the triangles change from blue to red to green. He didn’t see the fourth side, until he realized that it was at the bottom, and was somber gray, maybe because it didn’t see much light.

  The pyramid expanded, and some of the detail on the sides came clearer. There were mountains and valleys and plains and lakes, just as on Ptero. But everything on the blue side was a shade of blue, including the trees and houses. Everything on the red side was similarly a shade of red, including the lakes and clouds. It was rather pretty, in its monochromatic way.

  Then the nearest face became too big to see around, and it was like dropping onto a map. It was the green side, which would have seemed natural if its sky wasn’t green too.

  This world’s Ida was supposed to be on the blue side, but the green side was where they were landing. Actually they didn’t know that the Zombie Master had gone on to that Ida, so they needed to find his footprints and follow them, as before.

  This time they made a better landing, and dented the ground only a little. They let go each others’ hands, dusted themselves off, and looked around.

  They stood in a green glade surrounded by a green jungle. A green lake was to one side. Between them and the lake was a patch of green sand. There was no sign of glowing footprints.

  “Maybe that sand will know,” Dor said. He walked across toward it.

  “Don’t step on me,” the sand said. “I’m a sand trap.”

  Bink picked up a green stone and tossed it into the sand. A sand bar jumped up and snapped across, pinning the rock. “Oh, you tricked me!” the sand said.

  “Have you seen a stranger pass by here?” Dor asked.

  “No.” Then the sand reconsidered. “But would you like me to help you look?”

  “Yes.”

  “Done.” The sand patch became a size larger, and Dor became a size smaller.

  “Oops, we forgot,” Dolph said. “Things that do favors grow, and the receivers shrink.”

  “I’ll survive,” Dor said. “It’s only filler material.”

  “Still,” Bink said, “we had best be careful.”

  The sand humped up and formed into a green man shape. “Sandy Sandman, at your service,” it said.

  Dor, though slightly diminished in size, had not lost his commo
n sense. “Since you have agreed to help us search, and been rewarded, part of that service should be some advice on how to get along here, so that our search doesn’t get messed up.”

  Sandy considered for a moment and a half. “Yes, I suppose that’s right. The first thing you should do is get your color right, because anyone can see you’re not green.”

  It was true. They were the only un-green things in view. “How do we do that?” Dor asked.

  “Wash yourselves with some green water, of course.”

  So the three of them stepped around the sand trap and knelt by the lake. They scooped out handfuls of green water and spread it on themselves. When that wasn’t very effective, they simply waded into the lake, and came out green.

  Green bubbles formed and rose to the surface around them. As each got there, it popped. “Who are you?” one asked. “Why are you here?” another asked. “Where are you going?” a third one asked.

  “Ignore them,” Sandy said. “They are just pop quizzes.”

  Bink emerged from the water and spied a green mint plant. He was about to pick a mint to eat when Sandy spoke again. “Don’t. That’s a govern mint. If you eat of its fruit, you will have so swear allegiance to it.”

  “This is a dangerous place,” Bink remarked as the other two came out of the water.

  “Now we can ask the ants,” Sandy said. “They get around a lot.” He peered down with his somewhat fuzzy eyes. “There are some, but we don’t want to ask them.”

  “Why not?” Dolph asked impatiently. “You can translate what they say.”

  “It won’t work,” Sandy said.

  But Dolph got down so he could spy the ants. “Hey, you!” he said to the nearest. “Have you seen a foreigner pass?”

  The ant waved its antennae. “He says far pastures are always greenest,” Sandy translated.

  “But that’s not relevant.”

  “Exactly. It’s an irrelev ant.”

  Oh. So Dolph focused on the next ant. “Foreigner?” The ant waved its feelers.

  “Native,” Sandy translated.

  “Native?”

  “Foreigner,” Sandy said. “That’s an ant-onym. It always says the opposite of what it hears.”

  Dolph was getting impatient again. He spied a third ant. He opened his mouth.

  “I wouldn’t,” Sandy warned.

  Dolph paused. “Why not?”

  “That’s an ench ant. It will enchant you if you let it.”

  Another ant glowed brightly. “What about this one?” he asked.

  “That’s a brilli ant. It is very bright, but won’t speak to those it deems dull, which is everyone else.”

  “Then what kind of ant will do?” Dolph asked, beginning to think about becoming annoyed.

  “A reli ant. Maybe several reli ants. You can depend on them. But I don’t see any of those here.”

  Dolph decided to give up on this approach. “I’m going to change form and look around myself,” he said.

  “Take us with you,” Bink suggested.

  So Dolph became a green roc, and they got on his feet.

  “That’s impressive magic,” Sandy remarked.

  “Squawk.”

  “Thank you,” Dor translated. “And thank you for your help. We are going now.”

  Sandy nodded and waved. As Dolph took off, he saw the sand man settling back into his comfortable sand trap. He had indeed been helpful, and had earned his extra size.

  He also saw a stir of motion, as if something were nearby, perhaps following them. But he kept his beak shut, because probably it was just his imagination. In any event, they would soon leave it far behind.

  Dolph rose high enough to get a good view of the surrounding landscape—and in a moment he saw a glow. He circled down. Sure enough, there was a trail of footprints. They led up to the edge of the green land and crossed over the sharp bend.

  But when he tried to fly across that boundary, he suddenly went out of control. He found himself tilting at an awkward angle.

  “Get back over the green!” Dor cried.

  Dolph, gyrating wildly, managed to cross back, more by chance than design. Then he straightened out and was flying level again. “Squawk?” he demanded.

  “I’m not sure what happened,” Dor said. “Maybe we had better land, and I can ask something inanimate.”

  So Dolph located a landing field similar to the first, complete with a lake and sand pit. The lake went right up to the boundary, where it made a sharp angled turn and became level blue water on the other side.

  “I don’t want to lose any more mass than I have to,” Dor said. “I’ll see if I can make a deal, fair exchange.”

  “What would sand want?” Bink asked, bemused. “Apart from more mass?”

  Dolph changed back into manform. He saw that the sand was laid out in two colors, with bands of very light green on the edges, and a band of dark green in the center

  Dor approached the sand. “Hello,” he said, not stepping in it.

  “Hello,” it responded. “What do you want?”

  “I need some information. Do you need anything?”

  The sand heaved and humped and formed into a person-like figure. A female one, with a light clothing and dark body. She wore a conical hat and high-heeled shoes. “How about a man?” she asked, and cackled.

  She was a sand witch!

  “I know where a nice sandman is,” Dor said. “His name is Sandy. I don’t know whether he has romance in mind.”

  She cackled again. “He won’t have a choice. Just tell me where.”

  “In exchange for some information we need,” Dor said. “So nobody changes size.”

  “Done.”

  “He is by a small lake in that direction,” Dor said, pointing carefully. “We flew the distance in an instant, but it might take an hour by foot.”

  “I’ll find it. What do you want to know?”

  “How to cross over to the blue side without losing our balance.”

  “You want to orient for Blue?”

  “Yes, I think that’s what we want to do.”

  “The lings can help you,” the sand witch said. “They can do change magic. They make the impossible possible. But it will cost you some size.”

  The three men exchanged glances. Then Dor nodded. “We’ll have to pay it. Where can we find these lings?”

  “I will summon them.” She faced toward the edge, put two fingers to her mouth and made a sandy whistle. “Hey, Bluelings!”

  In a moment there was a scurrying and chirping, and a swarm of squirrel-like creatures that ran on two legs. They lined up and peered over the edge.

  “Make your deal,” the witch said, and set off in the direction Dor had indicated. She had an interesting stride, with sand shifting forward to form a new leg while the trailing leg diminished.

  “We want to turn blue and stand straight on the blue side,” Dor said. “Can you do that for us?”

  The lings seemed to understand. They chirruped excitedly.

  “Deal,” Dor said. He walked up to the edge and stepped over. As he did so, he turned blue and tilted at right angles to the new plane. He also grew another size smaller.

  Bink crossed over, and changed similarly. This time Dolph saw that the lings nearest him became slightly larger.

  Then Dolph crossed. As he did so, he felt that same imbalance. His body was almost horizontal to the blue landscape, and he couldn’t seem to right it. Then he saw his hands turn blue before him, and he straightened out and became vertical. He also felt himself shrink a size. The lings had done it, for the usual payment.

  But Dolph was curious, so he tried to step back to the green side. Now his body oriented almost horizontal again, making it impossible for him to walk. It was clear that a blue side person could not make it on the green side, and vice versa. So they probably didn’t mix much. Such were the rules of the magic of Pyramid.

  He crawled back to the blue side in time to see the lings running away. They had done their job and
had their payment. It was a fair deal. This was a fair world, just awfully different.

  He changed back into roc form, and the others sat on his feet. He ascended, this time having no difficulty, and circled to pick up the trail of footprints. He was careful not to try to cross the boundary between faces. This side was all in shades of blue, of course. Soon he spied the prints, and followed them.

  They led past blue hill and dale, through blue forest and field, by blue mountain and lake, until they led to a blue isle with a bluestone ridge, up to a blue house.

  The blue door opened, and Princess Ida came out to meet them. She looked to be forty, the same age as the one on Ptero. But the moon that circled her head was a different shape. This one looked like a little doughnut.

  “You must also be visitors to this realm,” she said.

  “We are,” Dor said. “I am King Dor, from Xanth. This is my father Bink, and my son Dolph.”

  “Are you sure they aren’t both sons?”

  Bink smiled. “I was recently youthened from age eighty one to twenty one.”

  “Oh, then perhaps you know Jonathan, who passed by here a few hours ago.”

  “Yes, we call him the Zombie Master,” Dor said. “We are looking for him. We have been following his trail.”

  “I can help you find him. But there is a complication.”

  “Who cares?” the blue pavement asked.

  “That’s my talent,” Dor said quickly. “To converse with the inanimate. Sometimes it speaks without being asked.”

  “Oh. That’s certainly interesting magic.” She did not seem entirely thrilled.

  “Dawn and Eve told us that the magic on each world is different. On this one the person who does a favor gains size.”

  “Yes. I thought you should understand that, before you accepted any favor.”

  “So let’s exchange favors,” Dolph said. “What can we do for you?”

  “What I want most is information about the other worlds. I now have freedom of this world, or at least the blue face, since the nice faun and mare abolished the evil Blue Wizard, but in the process I have learned that there is an enormous amount I don’t know.”