Five Portraits

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Five Portraits Page 23

by Piers Anthony


  They paused, seeing the horses. “Who are you?” Firenze asked.

  “We are Day Mares,” Squid said. “I am Doris.”

  “What are you doing here?” Santo asked.

  “We bring nice daydreams to people. But we have a problem. You can help us.”

  “How?” Win asked.

  Squid, as Doris, explained the problem, concluding, “Only innocent children can enter Castle Innocent.”

  There was a chuckle in the audience when Doris explained how the Adult Conspiracy ruined people. They had all been there.

  “Of course we’ll help,” Myst said.

  The four children mounted the four horses and made galloping motions. It almost did look as if they were going somewhere.

  “They’re good,” Tiara whispered. There was a general murmur of agreement.

  “Scene Two,” Squid announced. “Castle Innocent.”

  The sawhorses were rearranged to form a square in the center of the stage, with space for the entrance. “Look at that,” Firenze said. “A castle made of candy, with a tsoda-pop moat.”

  “Don’t eat any of it!” Doris called. “Or you won’t get out.”

  “Oh, blip!” Santo swore.

  “We’re hungry,” Win agreed.

  They entered and started moving invisible boxes of dreams. Then Myst spied the cookie and made a motion of surreptitiously eating it.

  “Fee Fi Fo Fum!” Squid called. “Someone done something dumb!”

  The audience laughed.

  “The castle’s slammed shut!” Firenze said.

  “We’re trapped!” Santo said.

  “Somebody ate something,” Win said.

  Myst started to cry.

  “Scene Three,” Squid said. “Castle Guilty.”

  “How do we get out?” Firenze asked.

  “Confess your guilty secrets!” Squid called.

  “But we’re innocent children,” Santo protested.

  “Except for one of us,” Win said.

  “Me,” Myst wailed.

  “You were hungry,” Firenze said.

  “We’re not leaving you here,” Santo said.

  “Let’s Commune,” Win said.

  The four linked hands. “Wow!” Myst said. “It’s a dream!”

  “So let’s blow it apart,” Firenze said.

  Win started blowing. The others knocked the sawhorses over, wrecking the castle.

  “Look at the horses!” Santo said, staring at Squid on her sawhorse.

  “They’re night mares!” Win said. “This was all a fake to get us in trouble!”

  Squid hunched over, riding guiltily away.

  “Wow,” Myst said.

  “So let’s wake up now,” Firenze said.

  “And that was the end of The Bad Act,” Squid concluded.

  The audience applauded vigorously as the five children bowed. “That was a surprisingly original play,” Kandy said.

  Astrid kept her mouth shut.

  Then the children Communed for real. “The question is, how do we find good families to adopt us?” Firenze said.

  They held hands and focused.

  “Oh, blip!” Firenze said, speaking out of turn. “It starts with me. Aunt Astrid has to take me to the Panhandle, where there’s a suitable couple.”

  “I’ll do it,” Astrid said. “If you know where to go.”

  “I do,” Firenze said. “I know exactly where. That is, I know the direction and range. But not how to get there.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Astrid said.

  “The Panhandle?” Mitch asked. “Take the Trollway, so you can get there and back without taking forever.”

  “The Trollway,” Astrid agreed, not entirely pleased. She knew the trollway trolls were different from the marauder she had encountered, but trolls were not her preferred company. But she didn’t seem to have much of a choice.

  “I’ll go with you,” Art said.

  The children shook their heads. “It’s fastest and cleanest if just Aunt Astrid takes him,” Santo said.

  Astrid sighed. “Then that’s the way we’ll do it.”

  “But I can come along,” Fornax said. “Since I’m not really part of your group, but do have an interest in the welfare of the children.”

  “That will help,” Astrid said gratefully.

  Then suddenly, their way. They took an enchanted path to the nearest trollway station, which wasn’t far.

  “You will need to figure out a way to pay for your passage,” Fornax reminded her. “I can’t do it without interfering, unless to counter another Demon’s interference. But you—you know what they’ll think of first.”

  Astrid knew. Males took one look at her and thought of it. She wished she could turn it off. “Firenze, I think you will have to do some work,” she said.

  “Anything you want,” he agreed.

  “Now that you can control your fireworks, you can make an interesting display for an audience. That should earn our passage.”

  “Sure.”

  “I know you have no more use for trolls than I do. But for this we need them.”

  “I understand.”

  “You’re very amenable. You’re not like the surly kid I first encountered.”

  “Three things about that,” he said, smiling. “First, you showed me at the outset that you would not take any guff from me, and you had the means to enforce it. I respect that. Second, I have come to know you as a really nice person, and I want to help you any way I can. Third, our Communion showed that this trip is important, so I have to do what I can to get it done.”

  “And fourth, you have matured emotionally,” Astrid said. “You’re no longer that ornery kid.”

  “I suppose,” he agreed.

  “You have,” she insisted. “You help with the other children in a responsible way.”

  “I try. I’m the oldest and they expect it. But it’s not because of maturity.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “It’s that I think you’re better than my real mother was, and I wish you were my mother.” He held up a hand to halt her protest. “My folks didn’t want me; I was a burden. When my magic showed, they called me a freak, and wanted me even less. Our loving family was just a pretense. That’s what made me ornery. You’re not like that. You just wanted to help me. You accepted me as I am, including my magic. I—I feel comfortable with you. So anything you want me to do, I do. To try to please you. Without you I’d just be that hotheaded kid nobody can stand.”

  Astrid was taken aback. “But I’m not even human. I’m a deadly animal nobody in his right mind will approach.”

  He smiled. “Maybe that’s why you understand difficult kids. We’re like that.”

  She had to laugh. But it was sad, too. “I can’t even hug you without warning you to hold your breath.”

  “I wish I could hold my breath forever.” He swallowed, and she saw that he was on the verge of tears. “But hugs are only part of it. You truly understand me, Aunt Astrid. I wish you could adopt me. If you wanted to.”

  What could she do? “Hold your breath.” She paused in their walk and enfolded him, and kissed him on the cheek. Then she let him go, so as not to hurt him by her closeness. “I wish I could too.” There; it was out.

  “You do?” He seemed almost reluctant to believe.

  “I wish I could adopt all of you five orphans. I wasn’t fooling when I said I loved you. I don’t think you children were fooling either when you said you loved me.”

  “We weren’t,” he agreed. “You—you are what we all need, Aunt Astrid. We all saw that in Storage. You led us through. We don’t think anyone else could have, or would have.”

  “Aunt Fornax was watching. She would have.”

  “We like her too. But she’s not part of Xanth, so she can’t take care of us.”

  “I’d like to be your mother. But there seem to be multiple reasons why it can’t be.”

/>   “Yes,” he agreed sadly.

  “It is ironic,” Fornax said, appearing for Firenze as well as Astrid. “You wish you could be a family, but can’t, because you are trying to save Xanth from eventual destruction. I’d like to win my bet, but can’t, because that would mean the loss of all of you. We’re all doing the right thing, at personal cost.”

  “I guess that’s what it means to be adult,” Firenze said.

  “It’s what it means to have a conscience,” Fornax said. “I’m not used to it any more than you are, Firenze.”

  “A conscience,” he agreed thoughtfully. “It makes you do the right thing, even when nobody’s watching.”

  “Demons are not used to that,” Fornax said.

  “Neither are children.”

  “So it seems we are learning together.”

  “There’s the Troll stop,” Astrid said, relieved to let the subject rest.

  “I’ll fade,” Fornax said, fading.

  Sure enough, there was a small troll-house, with a troll in it, and a sign: STOP: PAY TROLL.

  They stopped. Astrid put on her most insincere smile. “I need to arrange for passage for two on a vehicle to the Panhandle. I don’t have coins.”

  The troll looked at her. “There may be an alternate way.”

  “No,” Astrid said firmly. “I forgot to mention that I am a basilisk in human form; my look and touch can be lethal. But the boy has a talent that may amuse other passengers.”

  “You don’t look like a basilisk.” His eyes were on her front.

  Astrid leaned close, giving him a better view. “Sniff my perfume.”

  The troll did. Little planets circled his head briefly before dissipating into acrid smoke. “That is the smell of death,” he agreed.

  “I promise to keep to myself and not make any mischief. We just want to get from here to there.”

  “Let’s see the talent,” the troll said as his head cleared.

  Firenze made a nice little fireworks display. The troll considered. “I’m not sure that’s enough.”

  “Check your schedule,” Fornax said in Astrid’s voice.

  He checked. “As it happens, we do have a bus transporting restive children to that locale,” the troll said, surprised. “Such a display might distract them long enough for their keeper to get them settled.”

  “Done,” Astrid said.

  “Here are your boarding passes.” The troll passed out two tickets.

  They entered the compound and stood beside the trollway, waiting for the bus. “Restive children?” Astrid asked Fornax.

  “Convenient coincidences happen,” the Demoness said innocently. Even Firenze had to smile.

  The bus arrived. They showed their tickets and took their seats. The bus was larger inside than out, with a playroom in back where excited young children romped, four and five years old. But they soon got bored, and started running between the seats and climbing over them, annoying the other passengers.

  Fornax nudged Firenze. “Your turn.”

  Firenze got up and walked to the playroom section. “Do you like fireworks?” he asked, getting their immediate attention. In a scant moment they were standing in a circle around him.

  He started slow, with a few small rockets arcing up from his head. “Ooo!” the children exclaimed. Then larger rockets appeared, exploding into colorful displays. “Oooo!” they said. Finally he made a phenomenal multirocket barrage. “Ooooo!” they cried.

  Then they got tired, and their handler, a plump female troll, got them to lie down and sleep. “Thank you,” she said gruffly to Firenze.

  “Welcome,” he said politely, and rejoined Astrid and invisible Fornax. Then, to them: “That was fun.”

  “You did well,” Astrid said, squeezing his hand.

  “I never thought I’d be good with children. Did you know you would be, Aunt Astrid?”

  “I did learn human ways from secretly interacting with a child, so maybe that was a hint. But it was my friendship with Fornax, and the advice of Wenda Woodwife, that got us into children. So really I didn’t know.”

  “Did you know, Aunt Fornax?” he asked.

  “I did not. But you are very special children.”

  “You made us special, by enhancing our—” He broke off, realizing that this should not be spoken aloud.

  “Your self-respect,” Astrid said.

  “Yes.”

  In due course the children finished their nap and got active again. The matron passed out sandwiches, and that kept them occupied for a while. But they had to use the bathroom, and there was none on the bus.

  “We are coming to a rest stop,” the driver announced. “There will be a half hour break. Be sure to be back aboard within that time.”

  “Just in time,” the matron said, relieved.

  The bus pulled into the stop and the children piled out, followed by the matron. Astrid and Firenze got out too. It was a closed compound with assorted facilities, including pie trees and milkweed plants.

  “I must focus on other business; Kandy calls with Demon interaction,” Fornax murmured. “But I will return when you resume traveling.” She faded out.

  “I do like her,” Firenze said. “She really helped all of us.” He smiled. “By helping you fetch us back from the future, for one thing.”

  “We started our friendship as an experimental thing,” Astrid said. “But I am glad for it.”

  They used the facilities, and returned to the bus on time. “Different drivers,” Firenze remarked.

  “They must have shifts,” Astrid said. “The former driver will probably drive another bus back the way he came. It’s his territory.”

  “The other passengers aren’t returning,”

  “This must be their stop.”

  The matron returned with the children and got them settled. The bus started up and pulled back onto the trollway. It was all very routine.

  Fornax faded in. “Business accomplished. Now I can relax.” Then she looked around. “There is something wrong.”

  “It’s all been routine,” Astrid said. “We have a new driver, is all.”

  “There’s the wrongness,” the Demoness said. “That’s not the right one.”

  “He seems to know his business.”

  “Damn!” Fornax could swear, not being part of the local Adult Conspiracy. “They did it while I was distracted. Now I can’t intervene without mischief.”

  “May I inquire, Aunt Fornax?” Firenze asked politely.

  “You may, and I will answer. There is a smell of Demon interference here, as there was when the Playground got folded up with you inside. Someone does not want you to complete your adoption, and without it Xanth will not be saved. Not Nemesis, I think; I am tracking him. But someone with a bet against Xanth. I can’t intervene without prejudicing the case, which may be their intention. The two of you will have to foil it, and that will be difficult.”

  “I don’t think we can stop a Demon,” Firenze said.

  “Not directly. But there are constraints. The Demon set up the ploy, but may not openly support it. If it is foiled by the actions of mortals on their own, that will do. That is what you will have to do. I must not tell you more.” She faded out.

  “I am competent to handle most threats,” Astrid said. “But she seemed worried.”

  “I fear we will just have to see what happens,” Firenze said. “Then figure out how to handle it.”

  “I agree,” Astrid said grimly.

  The children became restive. Firenze went again to entertain them with his fireworks display. While they were distracted, Astrid went to talk with the matron. “We fear there is trouble ahead,” she said. “We will try to stop it, but may not be able.”

  “Why should I believe a basilisk?” the matron demanded.

  Astrid sighed inwardly and returned to her seat. The woman’s attitude was reasonable, actually. Why trust any stranger, let alone a deadly animal?

&nbs
p; Firenze finished his show, and the matron set about putting the children down for another rest.

  There was a fork in the trollway. The driver took the left one.

  “That’s not the right way,” Firenze said. “My Communal direction knows the route.”

  “Then this must be the mischief,” Astrid said. “I’ll tell the matron.”

  She went back. “Do you know the correct route?”

  “I do.”

  “Are we still on it?”

  The matron looked. “No,” she said, surprised.

  “Could the new driver have gotten lost?”

  “New driver? We’re not supposed to have a new one.”

  “Then I fear we’re in trouble.”

  The matron marched up to the front. “Who are you?” she demanded. “What happened to our regular driver? Why are you deviating from the proper route?”

  “Shut up and sit down, wench,” the driver snapped.

  “I will not! I am responsible for the children, and their safety. Turn the bus around and return to the correct route.”

  The driver pulled to the side and stopped the bus. He got up and walked back to where the children were sleeping. He reached down and picked up a little girl. Suddenly there was a huge knife in his free hand. He held it to the child’s throat. “You were saying?” he asked the matron menacingly.

  Speechless with horror, she fell back. Astrid removed her glasses and advanced on him.

  “Stop where you are, basilisk,” the troll snapped.

  Obviously he knew her nature. She stopped.

  “Matron!” he snapped. “Fetch a sleeping mask. Put it on her.”

  The matron found the kind of mask used to keep light out so that a person could sleep on a bus. She came to Astrid. “I’m sorry I misjudged you,” she murmured. “But I can’t risk the life of the child.”

  “I understand,” Astrid said. “Do what you have to do.”

  The matron put the mask on her. Now Astrid’s primary weapon had been nullified.

  “Tie her hands behind her back,” the troll ordered.

 

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