Reluctantly Picka stepped back, and Piper danced with Dawn. They made a lovely couple. It was clear that if Piper won the match and Dawn, he would indeed not embarrass her. Since Picka expected to lose, that was perversely reassuring.
“Dance?” It was Granola. So he danced with her, and she was graceful despite her age. In fact, she did not seem old at all; she seemed to have youthened since entering the castle. “I think he is trying to weaken your resolve,” she said, “so you won’t fight as well. Don’t let him do it.”
“The man’s a better musician than I am!” he protested.
“Yes, but that doesn’t guarantee he will win. You do your best, so as to maximize your chances.”
“I will try,” he said humbly.
In due course the dance concluded. That was just as well, because Picka’s hour was almost up. It was time to retire. Skully and Joy’nt linked hand bones and walked to their bedroom. Dawn took hold of Picka’s hand.
“It seems that there are two of us left over,” Piper said to Granola. “Would you care to share my bedroom this night?”
“Thank you, but I have one of my own.”
He merely waited.
Then she caught on to the nature of his invitation. “But I’m old!” she protested.
“Have you looked in a mirror? You don’t look your age. That is part of the enchantment.”
She walked to a hall mirror. “Oh!”
“You would not embarrass yourself in that manner either,” Piper said. “It is an opportunity for another kind of normal human experience you may not often have a chance for in the future. There is, of course, no other commitment implied. It is purely for fun.”
“And you?” she asked. “What is your interest in this?”
He laughed. “You forget, I am a man. I am always interested, and my temporary woman decamped with Gattila the Gun. I am eager to be with any willing woman, for an hour or a night.”
This time she considered a full half moment. “Why not?” She went with him to his bedroom.
“It’s really quite a castle,” Dawn said.
So it seemed.
As they entered their room, Picka’s hour was up and he reverted to skeletal form. “Bleep!” Dawn swore.
“Bleep?”
“I wanted to make love with you before you reverted.”
“Maybe tomorrow, when the spell renews.”
“That’s right! It should renew after midnight. That’s only a couple hours away. Picka, I’m not going to sleep now; I’ll wait for it.”
“But why?”
A look passed across her face that made him nervous. It hinted of devious living-female wiles he was not equipped to understand. “Isn’t it enough that I want to do it?”
“I’m not sure it is.”
“I may explain in due course. Now let’s just enjoy each other’s company. Have you anything to say to me?”
“Yes, actually. I talked with Piper. He’s really not a monster. He’s a man with a mission.”
She frowned. “That was not what I meant.”
Evidently he was not being clear. “Piper seems halfway worthy, and he is alive. He will treat you well.”
“Bleep.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If I have to, I will marry Piper, and be all that he desires. Those are the terms of the deal we made. But I don’t want to marry him, I want to marry you. Because you are worthy also, and you can be alive for key aspects.”
“Key aspects?”
“Such as summoning the stork. And I can be a skeleton for making a skeleton baby. Maybe we can have one of each, and raise them together, brother and sister. It might be Xanth’s most unusual family. But one other thing overrides all others.”
“It does?”
“I love you, you numskull.”
Oh. “And I love you, Dawn.”
“That was what I meant.”
Oh, again. “But I am not at all sure I will win tomorrow’s combat. So I want you to be secure regardless.”
“That’s nice, Picka. I am making sure I will have at least some happiness, regardless.”
“Making sure? This must be a fair contest, or it won’t count.”
“By getting what part of you I can, regardless of the outcome of the contest.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I will signal the stork for your baby. The contest outcome will not be able to undo that.”
“But—”
A clock bonged in the castle. “Midnight. Invoke the spell, Picka.”
“But—”
“Do it.”
Overwhelmed by her intensity, he invoked the spell. She was right: it was restored, and he became fleshly again.
Then it was a blur of activity and pleasure. He lost count of the number of times she got him to summon the stork. There might be a whole flight of storks arriving with their bundles. He was almost relieved when the spell finally expired, because he was exhausted.
“But I would rather marry you,” she murmured as she went to sleep.
He was left holding her, realizing that she had indeed made her move. She might marry Piper, but her first child would be Picka’s. Only she would know, perhaps, but that was enough.
Living women could indeed be devious.
* * *
In the morning they all shared a nice breakfast. Piper remained urbane, and Granola looked refreshed and amazed.
“We have certain things to arrange,” Dawn said briskly. “I expect to govern Caprice Castle regardless who wins today’s contest, and I want my friends close. Skully, Joy’nt, I presume you will marry in due course.” She paused, but there was no dissent. “I would like the pair of you to take up residence here, and assist me in managing the incoming puns. Is that satisfactory?”
Both nodded. “We’d rather be doing something useful,” Joy’nt said.
“We had no plans,” Skully said. “I’m still new to Xanth proper, and this would make settling in easier.”
“Piper, Picka,” Dawn continued. “You are amenable?”
Again, no objection. Dawn was being princessly.
“You four pets,” Dawn said. “You were wandering, looking for adventure. If you stay here you’ll be seeing all corners and edges of Xanth, spying, sniffing, and identifying puns to be collected by the musician, whoever he may be. It should be interesting. We can use you. We will keep an eye out for suitable lady birds and dogs. Are you interested?”
“Woof!”
“Meow.”
“Mew.”
“Tweet.”
“They have agreed,” Dawn said, glancing again at Piper and Picka. “Amenable?”
“I can see already that pun collecting and processing will be a good deal more efficient than it was before,” Piper said. “I will no longer have to do it alone.”
“I like the pets,” Picka said simply.
“And Granola. You are, in your natural state, an invisible giantess. You have been somewhat lonely. If you joined us you could have our company, and still be free to exit the castle, revert, and roam alone or with us as you choose. You would not, I think, have male company, but it is possible that if you found an invisible giant who was interested in becoming young, handsome, and human while within the castle, that could be arranged. Speaking for myself, I would like to have you here, as a woman not in awe of my status, a friend. You could also be quite useful working with the pets to bring in far-flung puns without attracting outside attention. Are you interested?”
“Yes.”
Dawn glanced at Piper and Picka.
“I like her too,” Picka said.
“She could be extraordinarily helpful,” Piper agreed. “And yes, I would encourage her to find a male companion. The castle will accommodate anyone the princess approves.”
“Then I think those loose ends have been tied,” Dawn said. “It is understood that the contest will determine the future master of Caprice Castle, and past enmities will be laid to rest if not forgotten. I have
made clear that I would much prefer to marry Picka, but if that is not to be, I will accommodate Piper in a manner that warrants no complaint. We will all work together to accomplish the castle mission.” She glanced around again. “Agreed, all?”
They all agreed.
“This is exactly the kind of gracious competence I value in a princess,” Piper said. “It will be a far better situation than I had before. I know that none of you are my friends now, but I hope in the course of the future to win at least your respect.” He glanced at Dawn. “This will be a marriage of convenience, as royal liaisons tend to be. Love is not necessary, or even always desired. But it can be earned, and I will sincerely try.”
“I am sure you will,” Dawn said. “It is fortunate that your expectation is low.”
“The lowest expectation is still infinitely better than what I have faced in recent years.”
A nod of understanding went around. He was correct.
They went on with their meal. Picka found his respect for Piper increasing. The man was his enemy, who would probably destroy him before the day was out, but he had qualities to be respected. Indeed, he might in time win the respect of the others, and Dawn’s love.
“Now, unfortunately, it is time,” Piper said as they finished the meal. “I will exit first and take my position. When you exit, Picka, it will be a duel to destruction. You do understand.”
“I understand,” Picka agreed. He hated it, but he accepted it.
They walked to the front door. Piper walked out, crossed the threshold, and became the monster. He slid on through the blackened terrain, turned, and took up a position facing the castle.
Dawn walked out, and went to a chair set on the edge of the castle abutment, where she could watch the proceedings.
Granola emerged, having removed her clothing, passed the threshold, and disappeared. She had reverted to her normal state.
The four pets went out and joined Dawn.
Skully and Joy’nt walked out, and took two more chairs on the verge. The audience was ready.
Picka walked out, unlimbering his clavicles. He walked resolutely toward the monster.
Piper blasted him with kill-music. The battle was on.
Picka felt his joints fraying; they had not completely recovered from the prior damage. But he had faced this theme before, and played the countertheme that stifled it. Then he shifted to a fire theme, and sent scorching fireballs at the monster.
Piper shifted his own tune, dousing the fire. Then he played the rock-fragmenting music that undermined Picka’s footing. Not enough to make sand, just enough to interfere.
Picka countered that, and played a theme that melted the earth on which the monster rested.
Piper lurched forward, advancing on Picka, corrosive acids glistening on his surface.
Picka played pacification music, causing the monster to slide to a halt. He was unable to approach Picka physically.
Thus they fenced with variations of kill-music, neither gaining an advantage. They were evenly matched in this respect. Picka’s practice was paying off.
Demon Pundit appeared. “This is a stalemate. Proceed from kill-music to skill music. Each victory of melody is one point. A lead of two points will be decisive.” He vanished.
They had been indulging in mere preliminaries, knowing there would be no decision there. Now they moved on to true music. This was the phase Picka feared, because Piper could play more notes and chords, and play them better. He really was the superior practitioner.
There was a brief silence. Then Picka led off with a simple melody. What else could he do?
The monster waited silently until Picka was done. Then he played the same melody the same way, except that he blew sustained notes instead of percussion notes. He had matched the melody. After that he played it again, this time elaborating. His version was beautiful; this confirmed his expertise.
After that Picka played the variant the same way, then played it again with his own flourishes, making it about as complicated and pretty as it could be.
The monster matched that, but did not take it further; that theme had been embellished as far as was feasible. So the first melody was a draw.
Piper played a new theme. Picka matched it, then embellished it. Piper matched that and enhanced it further. Picka matched that and let it be. Another draw.
The first melodic round was done. It was really more like a practice session, establishing the format. Picka had held even, but that meant little. The contest would be decided on the more challenging tunes.
The monster played a piece with four voices: soprano, alto, tenor, and bass. This was considerably more sophisticated than the prior single-note melodies.
Picka matched it, using both ends of both clavicles. This was a technique he had mastered in practice. Because his clavicles were a fixed length, he could not readily play adjacent ribs with a single clavicle. He did it by angling the clavicles between the ribs, playing the front end of one and the back end of the next. The notes were the same for each rib, regardless where they were struck. So if the monster had thought to mess him up this way, the effort had failed.
But if Piper played more than four voices, Picka would be lost.
Piper did not. Apparently he had been so sure that four parts would suffice that he had not practiced more complicated ones. Picka was in luck. So far.
Then he noticed something. The animals that had fled the scene of combat were returning. They were sitting around the scene of the contest, quietly listening. There had been no summoning music; they had come to appreciate the beauty of the melodies.
Picka played a different type of theme, one that gradually quickened its tempo. Piper matched it, accelerating similarly. That was Picka’s disappointment; he had hoped the monster would not have had experience with that type of music.
Then Piper played another kind: two merging themes, each with its own tempo. Five beats of one matched six beats of the other. That was more sophisticated. Picka barely matched it, but only because Dawn had drilled him on the type, and because he could play anything he heard. But then the monster played a 3-5-7 beat combination, and that was beyond Picka’s means. He might master it if he had time to work at it, but couldn’t manage it now. He lost the melody, and was behind one point.
“Monster’s point,” Joy’nt said. There was a tweet of agreement. They were merely confirming what Picka already knew.
The ground beneath his foot bones softened, and he sank into it up to his knee bones. This was not Piper’s doing; it was a signal of his disadvantage. If he lost again, he would sink out of sight and be gone. But his skill remained; he was not yet finished. He knew that Dawn, the other skeletons, and the pets were watching, knowing he was in trouble. He couldn’t disappoint Dawn! She had trusted him to win Caprice Castle for her and save her from the monster, and he had to do it if it was conceivably possible.
They went back and forth, each matching the other, neither gaining any clear advantage. Picka was playing better than he ever had before, as if Dawn’s faith in him was charging him up. Piper was still better, but it was by a narrow margin that few others would be aware of. Picka had almost closed the gap between them.
The surrounding animals remained rapt. They didn’t mind who played, or who won or lost. They simply appreciated the music.
Suppose this contest ended in a draw? Who would get Dawn and the castle? Or would the Demon Pundit, disgusted, wipe them both out? Picka suspected that the monster was no more comfortable with that thought than he was. There had to be a winner. Yet there seemed to be no advantage to be had.
Picka tried a tweedle. That was a fast alternation of the two ends of a clavicle, one end striking one rib, the other the adjacent rib, making a kind of double note. He had heard the effect once, and made it his own. The monster matched it with alternating pipes. Picka added the second clavicle, so that four notes alternated rapidly, a double tweedle. Piper tried to match it, but his pipes were slower and stalled out with a tangled twe
edle.
“Skeleton’s point,” Joy’nt said, with a tweet of agreement.
He had won a point! The ground pushed Picka back up and firmed beneath him. He was even again.
The monster went into an interactive piece. He played it once, complete, then played it with every second note missing. Picka had to supply the missing notes. Well, this was something else he could do; Dawn had practiced such pieces with him, possibly anticipating this.
Picka filled in the notes when Piper played it again. Then he played his own elaboration, with every third note missing. Piper matched it when Picka played it again, and sent it back with two notes played, two missing throughout. Thus it was two organ pipe notes followed by two clavicle notes, a rather nice effect.
Picka duplicated that, then played a variation with one note, the second note missing, then two notes, and two missing, then three notes, and three missing. This was fun!
But it wasn’t fun for the monster. This was evidently a new pattern, and he hadn’t practiced it. He was superlative when playing familiar music, but uncertain when it was new. When he tried to fill it in, he hit one sour note.
“Skeleton’s point,” Joy’nt said, with the tweet of agreement.
Picka had gained the lead! He was ahead, against his expectation. If he could just win one more point he would have the victory. But he knew he needed to do it now, because he was unlikely to get another chance.
The ground beneath the monster shifted and sank. He was in a hole. He could still play well, but he was in trouble.
They continued matching themes and variants. Neither found any further advantage. The prospect of a draw loomed larger.
Then Picka thought of something. He had, as a frivolous exercise, practiced variants of “Ghost of Tom.” Could he now make use of that peripheral skill?
He played the melody through. The monster readily matched it. Then Picka spoke. “This is a round, normally sung by four voices offset. Like this.”
He played the first line as before. “Have you seen the ghost of Tom?” Then, continuing the next line, “Round white bones with the flesh all gone,” he added the first line for the second voice, so that they overlapped. It was like a two-voice melody, except that the first line was overlapping the second line. Then the second line overlapped the third, “Oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo!” And the third overlapped the fourth, “Wouldn’t it be chilly with no skin on!” Finally the second voice finished, the first voice silent.
Well-Tempered Clavicle Page 31