Five Portraits

by Piers Anthony

  “It’s fun,” Plato said, carrying his half-dead rat.

  Astrid did not trust that. “As long as it leads back to Xanth.”

  “The river is the boundary between Hades and everything else. For folk of Xanth, the other side is Xanth.”

  “Even though Hades is in another planet?”

  “Magical realms know few boundaries.”

  “This should be interesting,” Astrid said.

  Fornax smiled obscurely without commenting.

  They went to the front castle gate. There was a demon guard there, but he let them pass. Zosi clear had authority in the absence of the proprietors, and of course Plato was the son of Pluto, their ruler.

  They followed the path down the mountain and into a dark forest. A handsome man appeared beside the path, beckoning Astrid. “They are silent,” Zosi said. “You can hear them only if you cross the line. Don’t do that; you’ll never manage to get back on it, and the demons will have their nefarious way with you.”

  “What would a demon want with me?” Astrid asked.

  “But they can hear us,” Zosi said warningly.

  Indeed, the demon pantomimed embracing Astrid, kissing her, and undressing her. Then he became insultingly more specific.

  “But the children!” Astrid protested, before remembering that there was no Adult Conspiracy.

  “I don’t know for sure what he wants to do with you, Aunt Astrid,” Santo said. “But it doesn’t look as if it’s much fun for you.”

  “I am certainly not crossing the line,” Astrid said primly.

  “So there, spook!” Plato called, gesturing with a finger. The demon angrily dissipated into smoke.

  Astrid almost swallowed her teeth. No child was supposed to know that gesture, especially not a five-year-old.

  “You’re right, Plato,” Santo said. “It’s confusing but interesting on the path.”

  “You have to endure this whenever you’re out here?” Astrid asked Zosi, appalled.

  “No. They have long since learned that it’s a waste of time flashing me. But you’re new here, so they’re trying. Just ignore them and they’ll go away after a while.”

  Now a sultry demoness addressed Santo. She had a table loaded with cakes, chocolates, and eye scream. Come here, she signaled, and all this will be yours.

  “What would happen if I went?” Santo asked Plato.

  “She’d sprout teeth and eat you.”

  “Too bad. That food looks great.”

  “Watch.” Plato set down his zombie rat. It scurried quickly across the line, heading for the food, or maybe just to hide under the table.

  In a moment the rat reached the demoness and scurried up her leg. Eeeek! she screamed silently, batting at the rodent. The table collapsed and the food slid to the ground, where it reverted to its real nature: garbage.

  The demoness, furious, caught the rat in her hands, which had become talons. She opened her mouth, which had grown fangs, and bit the rat’s head off. Then she spat it out again, revolted; evidently zombies did not taste good. She glared at Plato, who responded with another finger. She exploded into vile smoke.

  “Let’s move on,” Astrid said, urging Santo forward. She was not amused, but it was evident that the children found the incident hilarious.

  “This is Hades,” Zosi reminded her.

  So it was, obviously. At least the demons stopped trying to tempt them off the path.

  In due course they reached the bank of the river. It was a pleasant, peaceful scene. But there was no raft.

  “Charon must be on the other side,” Zosi said. “He makes regular crossings. He’ll be along soon. Then I’ll arrange for your passage across.”

  “I have to go potty,” Plato said.

  Zosi choked down what might have been a bad word. “Now?”

  “Very soon. I can do it in my pants if you want.”

  “No!” She took a harried breath. “We have to go,” she said to Astrid. “He never bluffs about that.”

  “We’ll be all right,” Astrid said. “Thank you for your help.”

  Zosi and Plato hurried back along the path.

  “They’re fun,” Santo said.

  “But Hades isn’t.”

  “Actually—” Then he caught her glare, filtered through her dark glasses, and stifled it. He sat down to wait for the ferry.

  “But he’s right,” Fornax said, fading in beside her. “Hades is a challenge for folk who have labored too long under the restrictive Adult Conspiracy. And that child-eating demoness did deserve it.”

  “I suppose so,” Astrid agreed, beginning to glimpse the humor of it. Then she thought of something else. “The way Santo’s talent strengthened another magnitude, and he wound up right under Princess Eve’s castle in Hades, where Zosi Zombie just happened to be in charge for the moment. That could hardly have been coincidence.”

  “I have no idea what you mean.”

  “The way you reassured him, and then Zosi did. You saved his life by enabling his return from the future, and then you saved his sanity. Taking no credit for any of it.”

  “Anything you may think I did was purely for friendship.”

  “You have been such a friend throughout! I don’t think I can ever repay you.”

  “Nor do you need to.”

  “I wish you could somehow get some of the benefit of all you have done for us.”

  “Friendship doesn’t ask for benefit.”

  “You have certainly learned about it.”

  “I learned from you.”

  Arguing was no good, and neither was trying to thank the Demoness for help she couldn’t acknowledge giving. So Astrid simply turned and kissed Fornax’s ghostly face.

  “He’s coming!” Santo called.

  Sure enough, the raft was heaving into view. The dark ferryman stood on it, wielding his pole. He brought it to the landing, and the motley passengers got off.

  Immediately the demons appeared, gesturing to the depressed folk, urging them to cross the line and enjoy marvelous pleasures. But they had evidently already been warned, and trudged along the path, which surely now led to their final abode in Hades. It really didn’t make much difference whether they stayed on the path or crossed the line.

  “You’re on,” Fornax said, and faded.

  Astrid stepped up to face the ferryman. “Demon Charon, I believe?”

  “Believe what you want,” he said, eying her curves in a way that irked her.

  “Two of us wish to obtain passage across the river, to return to Xanth. We are not dead, and not fated to remain here in Hades.”

  “A day and night of vigorous stork summoning, for each passage.”

  The bargaining was on. “The touch of one finger,” she said, thinking of Plato’s shocking signal.

  “An hour of passionate lovemaking.”

  “One minute of hand holding.”

  “One fabulous act.”

  “One kiss.”

  He saw that she was tough-minded. “One Kiss and a Feel.”

  Capitalized? “Done,” she agreed without enthusiasm.

  “Per passenger.”

  Oh. “One set at the beginning of the crossing, the other at the end of it.”

  “Done.”

  She stepped into his embrace. “Oh—one minor detail I may have neglected to mention,” she said, removing her glasses. “I’m a basilisk.”

  He gazed into her eyes without flinching. He was after all a Dwarf Demon. “And a lovely one.” She closed her eyes and he kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, and grabbed her bottom with both hands, avidly kneading it. This was more of a Kiss and Feel than she had anticipated, but nothing new to her; she could handle it. Hereafter she would better pick up on the capitalization.

  Charon was a lecher, but he was also a Demon, and had his own powerful ambiance. Had she not been on guard, and on the verge of married, and a basilisk, she might have been swept into his orbi
t and become his love slave. That was evidently what he was trying for.

  She endured his effort for a reasonable while. She had after all not specified a time limit. Then, when he did not quit, she opened her eyes and Stared him at point-blank range. That, coupled with her intoxicating ambiance, set him back, and he released her.

  Astrid put her glasses back on and glanced at Santo. “On,” she said.

  The boy stepped onto the raft. “I think I’ll never understand what you gave him.” He was being literal.

  “You don’t need to. Not until you grow up.”

  Charon, a little unsteady, started poling. So she had made an impression on him.

  At the other side she stepped into the ferryman again. She gave him another deep Kiss and copious Feel, but this time did not have to Stare him to make him stop after a reasonable interval. He had evidently learned about her ambiance.

  “You are a fascinating challenge,” Charon remarked as Astrid and Santo disembarked.

  “Indeed.”

  “Until next time, perhaps.”

  “Perhaps.” Never was more like it, but it would not be expedient to say that. She walked away. He pushed off and floated back on the river.

  “You handled him well,” Fornax said. “You needed no help there.”

  “I’m still glad to know you are near,” Astrid said sincerely.

  “The next chapter becomes complicated,” the Demoness said. “I may or may not be able to participate directly.”

  “I trust your judgment.”

  “Thank you.”

  A path wound away from the landing. Astrid knew it led out of the dark region and back to normal Xanth. They had made it out of Hades.

  Chapter 17:

  Portraits

  Astrid watched as a relieved Metria hugged the boy. “Oh, Santo, I’m so glad to see you aft.”

  “So what?”

  “Abaft, astern, rearmost, hindmost, butt—”

  “Back?”

  “Whatever,” she agreed crossly. “When you turned up gone, I feared you had gone to Hades.”

  “I had.”

  “Figuratively.”

  “Literally.”

  She looked at him. “There must be more to this floor.”

  “This what?”

  “Fiction, creation, level, elevation, narrative—”

  “Story?”

  “Whatever! Why did you go? Was it something I said? I know I foul up my words on occasion.”

  “No, Aunt Metria. It was something I thought.”

  “You thought we didn’t want you? Santo, that’s not true!”

  “I thought I was unworthy.”

  “How could you ever think that?”

  “Because I’m gay.”

  Metria didn’t even hesitate. “That makes a difference?”

  “I thought it did.”

  “Well, it doesn’t. If you thought it did, you should have asked me.”

  “I should have,” he agreed penitently.

  “Now we can do the Portraits.”

  Astrid stepped in. “There’s a detail to handle first. You are married, Metria, but the rest of us are not. We need to do it before we can adopt. Except for Merge.”

  “Then let’s get on with it. I know I’ll look good in a Portrait.” That was evidently her prime interest.

  They got on with it by holding a three-couple wedding ceremony, done freestyle, with each person saying his or her vow while the children applauded. Ease married Kandy, and kissed her. She became the board briefly, then reverted to lovely woman form. Mitch married Tiara, whose hair floated over her head as she spoke her vow. Art married Astrid, whose sequins lit up while the dress went translucent, much to the children’s delight. Then they all shared a huge chocolate-covered wedding cake with candy candles, which the children evidently felt was the most important part of the ceremony. Then the three newly married couples retired for the night, while Merge and Metria saw to the children.

  “I’m glad it’s finally happening,” Astrid murmured as she hugged Art.

  “You have worked so hard for it,” he agreed. “For all the children, not just ours.”

  “They all deserve the best. They’re fine children.”

  “And Xanth does need to be saved.”

  “That, too,” she agreed, laughing.

  In the morning they set up for the first Portrait. They decided on Kandy and Ease, for no special reason. The two posed beside a mock-up of a wishing well, as they had first met at one. Then Squid emerged from the well in her natural form, shaped her tentacles into human limbs, and became the six-year-old girl.

  Kandy embraced her. “We hereby adopt you to be our child,” Kandy said.

  “Thank you,” Squid said, kissing her.

  Then the three posed for the Portrait. Art set up his easel and paints, and sketched the scene. It took an hour to get it outlined; then they took a break while he slowly colored the figures in. They returned every so often so that he could get the details right. By the end of the day he finally had it complete, and it looked great; he was an excellent painter. Ease was supremely handsome, Kandy was marvelously lovely, and Squid was the very essence of a sweet little girl.

  As he applied the last brush stroke, there was a ripple of color in the surrounding air, like an invisible implosion centering on the painting. Then it cleared, and the portrait seemed to glow. It was done.

  “That suggests portentous significance,” Fornax said to Astrid.

  “Well, it is to save Xanth.”

  “That might count,” the Demoness agreed.

  They celebrated with a great evening meal and a romp in the Playground, taking care to guard it from outside. Everyone was thrilled.

  The following day Mitch and Tiara formally married, adopted five-year-old Win, and posed for a pleasantly windblown portrait. At the end of the day the painting was complete, looking a shade better than real life, and there was the rippling implosion of color. Another stage in the saving of Xanth had been accomplished.

  Then it was Art and Astrid’s turn to adopt Firenze. This required special handling to enable Art to both pose and paint. He set up a big mirror so that he could look at the reflection of the three of them, with him at his easel, painting their portrait. Astrid wore the Sequins of Events dress, and there was just a hint of translucency, enough to enhance her appeal without risking any freakouts. The picture showed in the picture, with a smaller one inside that, making an intriguing sequence. The children liked this effect.

  At the end of the day there was another color implosion, rendering the portrait complete. Three down.

  On the fourth day Merge formally adopted Myst, and the two posed together. Astrid was slightly afraid that there would be a problem manifesting in some manner, as some hidden rule was violated, but there was no trouble. The five aspects hovered faintly in the background, like supportive angels. This portrait, too, received the color implosion. Four down.

  The fifth portrait was to be Metria with her husband and Santo. The demoness was eager for it. “How shall I pose?” she asked. “Sexy?” Her dress shrank so as to barely cover her swelling breasts and bottom. “Crazy?” she changed to her alter ego D Mentia, known to be slightly crazy. “Young?” She became her third form, that of the six-year-old child Woe Betide carrying a matchbox.

  Oops. “Woe Betide is younger than Santo,” Astrid protested.

  “Sure. I’m a perpetual child,” the child agreed.

  “How can a youngel child be a mother to an older child?”

  The demoness considered. “I hadn’t thought about that.” She reverted to Metria. “I guess Woe Betide won’t have parenting duties.”

  “But she’s still part of you. She’ll always be part of you.”

  Metria shrugged. “She always has been part of me. Ever since that sphinx stepped on me and fragmente
d me into three aspects.”

  “I’m just not sure that’s right for this,” Astrid said. “The Adult Conspiracy might intervene and ruin the adoption.”

  “She’s got a point,” Kandy said. “Santo is a very special boy, and he needs a very solid family. Woe Betide may be okay for other purposes, but not for this.”

  “Conspiracy smiracy,” Metria said. “It didn’t object to the single parent adoption, or to the basilisk adoption, or to a mother with five aspects. Why should it object to this, with only three aspects?”

  “That’s a point, too,” Kandy agreed. “Maybe we should try it, and if there’s no balk, then it’s all right.”

  They tried it. But when Metria said “I hereby adopt you, Santo Claus,” and couldn’t get it right, they knew there was a problem. The Conspiracy was balking.

  “Bleep!” Metria swore, making the local vegetation wilt.

  “I’m not worthy,” Santo said.

  “That’s not it!” Astrid snapped so fiercely that the wilting vegetation scorched.

  “But it leaves us with a problem,” Kandy said. “We are left with no fit family to adopt him.”

  “And the fate of Xanth hangs in the balance,” Mitch said.

  Astrid felt guilty for even raising the issue of Woe Betide, though she knew it was not actually her fault; she had merely been the one to recognize the question. Now they were stuck without the fifth portrait. Then she got a wild idea. “Let me ponder this,” she said.

  She walked out into the forest by herself. Soon Fornax joined her. “This baffles me too,” the Demoness said.

  “I am having wild irrelevant thoughts,” Astrid said. “They hardly relate to anything we are presently considering.”

  “I have encountered thoughts of that nature,” the Demoness said with a smile. Astrid was echoing her own manner, when it was not expedient to make a direct suggestion.

  “I am thinking that if we searched long enough, we might find a suitable family for a certain eight-year-old boy. But we really need something now. Today, actually.”

  “True.”

  “He is a very special boy, with a ferocious talent. I have to say that he may not be very adoptable. Some folk might object to his—his social orientation. But there is one who has seemed to have a special interest in him, helping him when he most needed it, both with his talent and his personal outlook.”