Jest Right

by Piers Anthony

  By the time the laughter expired, Magnus was back with his briefed cast, and Jess faded back. She had done her part, diverting the audience while he prepared. He took them through a marvelous little romance where Boy finally won through to recover Girl, and the villagers were satiated with fond emotion. Jess hoped the villagers didn’t notice the way Girl sneaked glimpses at Magnus as much as at Boy.

  The show was a success. Word would spread quickly. There would be no lack of villages to visit hereafter.

  “You were wonderful!” Magnus told her privately once they were back in the boat. “You’re the perfect assistant. I wish I could—”

  Jess looked around. Myst was with her sisters at the moment, and the two of them were alone in their room. “Why don’t you?”

  “I’d have to fake it,” he said regretfully. “You deserve better than that.”

  “Then fake it. Please.”

  He looked at her with understanding. Denied the reality, she would settle for the fake, as before; it was better than nothing. “I’ll close my eyes and try to pretend you are that Girl in today’s Play.” He sighed. “Some day, some way, somehow, this will be real,” he promised. “As it was when you had the rose.”

  “Some day,” she agreed prayerfully.

  He embraced her. He kissed her. He took her to the bed. But he was unable to take it further. The curse prevailed. “Bleep!” he swore.

  She really appreciated that bleep.

  In the morning they set off for the Abandon Hope Gulf Course. This was, Imbri explained, on one of the Sometime Islands that appeared occasionally along the coast of Xanth. They were permanent in their own right, but did not always align with Xanth. The trick was to catch this one during its alignment. Tata was able to orient on it, and they sailed across and above the water to it, the fire sail now triangular.

  “Now comes the hard part,” Imbri said when Win docked the boat and turned the body over to her. “You will have to play a game of gulf.”

  “Play a game?” Magnus asked. “Why?”

  “Day mares do not appear until summoned by a vacant mind, or a sufficiently aroused one. Only an actual game will put you in the proper frame.”

  “This smells like nonsense,” Magnus grumbled.

  “Don’t fracture your stable. You are beginning to get there already, emotionally,” Imbri said with a certain equine humor. “Stay the course.”

  So they docked and turned Fibot invisible—that was another trick that surprised Jess—and made a foursome for gulf. Magnus and Jess formed a pair, and Win and Myst formed another. Imbri manifested just long enough to clear it with the proprietors. They got gulf clubs, one for each player, and gulf balls.

  Jess tried hers, and the ball flew backward away from the hole. It didn’t take her seriously, either. “Now what?” she asked, exasperated.

  Magnus considered the matter. “I doubt that balls are very smart,” he said. “Try hitting it as far from the hole as possible.”

  Could that possibly work? Jess faced away from the hole. “I’m going to knock you so far from that hole you’ll never find it again,” she told the ball. Then she took a vicious swing at it.

  The ball snagged on her club and scooted back toward the hole.

  “Bleep!” she swore. “Get out of there!” She tapped the ball away from the hole.

  It went the wrong way and dropped in. “Bleepety bleep with curse burrs on it!” she swore villainously.

  “You’re just a poor loser,” Magnus said, playing along.

  The girls played the hole, not caring about the score. Then the foursome moved on to the second hole.

  This one was more of a challenge. It was on a low hanging cloud that drifted back and forth across the region, always in motion. They had to hit the ball up onto the cloud so that it could roll on into the hole.

  “Bleep,” Magnus said. He was definitely getting into the mood.

  It took so many tries that the others lost count before they finally managed to hike their balls up onto the cloud. Jess, in contrast, didn’t sweat it. “I’m going to drive you so deep into the ground you’ll never see daylight again,” she said, and bashed it as hard as she could.

  The ball flew up to the cloud and made a hole in one.

  “Bleep to the Nth power!” she swore. The surrounding green turned brown. This was almost fun.

  The third hole was set within the embrace of a circling sleeping dragon’s tail. It was clear that any miss that struck the dragon would wake it, with fearsome consequences. Exceedingly delicate play was required.

  Jess tackled it first. “I’m going to knock you right into the dragon’s fiery snout!” Then she set out to do just that, and the ball skittered to the side and landed in the hole. “Peelb!” she swore, so upset it came out backward.

  The others rubbed it in by giving her that hole.

  The fourth hole was nestled in the middle of a nest of nickelpedes, the bugs that liked to gouge out nickle sized chunks of the flesh of any creature they encountered. But the players were improving, and managed to scoop their balls over the ‘pedes and into the hole without arousing them.

  The fifth hole was in a nest in an ogre-twisted tree. Strike the trunk too hard and the tree would suddenly untwist and hurl the ball to the moon, making it almost unplayable. Again they stroked carefully and managed to complete their round without that particular mishap.

  But the sixth hole was more of a challenge. It was on a turf plate that angled erratically to roll the ball into the nearby lake.

  They all tackled it, only to lose their balls as the tilt countered whatever they tried. Even Jess could not get it, because what she truly did not want was to lose her ball in the drink, and her curse had caught on to that. So all four of them were steaming. They linked hands and swore. “BLEEPING BLEEP TO HIGH HADES!!!!” they chanted in bold tilting caps with an exclamation point for each of them. The grass around them scorched and a small fire broke out.

  The day mare appeared. “Don’t do that!” her speech balloon exclaimed. “It’s bad for the environment.”

  The four humans stood still and silent. This was the contact they had come for. They let the night mare handle it.

  Imbri’s speech balloon appeared over her head. “Mairzy Doats! It’s me, Night Mare Imbrium!”

  Mairzy froze in place. “Imbri! I didn’t recognize you in human clothing. I thought you retired years ago. What are you doing here?”

  Now Imbri manifested in equine form. “I did retire. But something came up.”

  “You, too? We’re having a horrible time.”

  “So I understand. The Stallions got switched.”

  “Yes! Now we day mares have to deliver bad dreams. It’s awful! But what can we do? The Stallion’s word is law.”

  “My human companions have a mission. They don’t know what it is, but it just might be to switch the Stallions back. But they need a day mare. Are you interested?”

  Mairzy considered. “I would do anything to get my sweet dreams back.”

  “You would have to take a human host.”

  Mairzy reared back, her hooves flashing sparks. “Anything but that!”

  “They ride in a very nice boat with a fiery sail.”

  “I have seen it in passing. Would I get to ride in that?”

  “Yes. They stock excellent oats.”

  Mairzy wavered. “I do like oats.”

  “And you just might save the Day Stallion from his horror. I suspect he would be rather pleased with you.”

  A smaller picture flickered within Mairzy’s speech balloon, showing a handsome stallion getting wind of her. Jess realized that individual day mares probably got little direct attention from the Stallion. She was having her own little day dream, perhaps allowed because she did not have to deliver it elsewhere. “I—”

  “So you’ll do it,” Imbri s
aid decisively. “For the good of Xanth.”

  “For the good of Xanth,” Mairzy agreed as the inset pictured stallion sniffed her tail. “But do you have a human host?”

  “Yes. My host’s friend Myst.” Imbri indicated the girl.

  “A child! But day dreams are not limited to the Adult Conspiracy.”

  “They bypass it,” Imbri said. “You know that. Dreams can’t be censored, not even naughty ones.”

  “Especially naughty ones,” Mairzy said.

  “This girl really likes horses. We won’t tell if you don’t tell.”

  “I suppose . . .”

  “Take her hand,” Imbri said, nodding to Myst.

  Myst extended her hand. The day mare put a fore-hoof to it, and faded out. Her speech balloon popped out of existence.

  “Are you there, Mairzy?” Imbri asked.

  Myst’s expression changed, becoming oddly equine. “I am here,” she said without a balloon.

  “And how is your host?”

  Myst’s features reappeared. “I’m fine! She’s nice.”

  “She’s a horse,” Magnus said.

  “That’s what I said.”

  Jess saw that the merger was compatible.

  “Who will run Abandon Hope in your absence?” Magnus asked, ever practical.

  “My assistant, little Lamzy Divey. She’s overdue for a promotion, anyway.” Mairzy pursed her human lips and whistled. In a moment a pretty little lamb gamboled up. “Lamzy, I have to go with these human folk,” Mairzy said, in a speech balloon that appeared over her head. “Can you handle the course?”

  “Sure!” Lamzy replied in her own balloon. “It’s easy. They’re already in the mood for bad dreams.”

  Mairzy turned to Imbri. “Now let’s see that boat.”

  They retired to Fibot, which became visible as they approached. They boarded, and Nia already had a basin of oats ready. She had also rearranged the children’s room to make it look more like a stable. Ula, Squid, and Santo did not mind at all; they too liked horses, and were glad to see their siblings happy.

  The children were thrilled to have another mare on board. Soon Imbri and Mairzy were on the deck, showing off their now-solid filly forms. Ula and Squid were getting rides, squealing with delight. The boat was floating well above the gulf course, which from this vantage looked like sausage links. The sail was quiescent, as they weren’t traveling at the moment, and the adults were watching from the seats. There were four adults and only two seats, but somehow they all fit comfortably. It seemed to be part of the magic of the craft.

  A small cloud formed beside the mast. “What have we here?” it demanded.

  “What have we what?” Jess asked, perplexed by a talking cloud.

  “Audio, ears, sound, perception, presence, absent from there—”

  “Here?”

  “Whatever,” the cloud agreed, annoyed. “Something interesting may be happening.”

  “Metria!” Nia said.

  “Who?” Jess asked.

  “Who else?” the cloud demanded as a pair of eyes formed in its side.

  “It’s the demoness-small-d Metria,” the peeve said. “A chronic nuisance. Ignore her and maybe she’ll go away.”

  “Not if something interesting is happening, bird brain,” the cloud said as it continued to expand. “What are two ephemeral mares doing on deck?”

  “What kind of mares?” Squid asked from the back of Imbri.

  The cloud was assuming the vague semblance of a curvaceous woman. “Brief, short-lived, transitory, evanescent, dreamy—wait! I used the word correctly. You’ve got a night and day mare here, in solid form. That’s bound to be fascinating.”

  “Bleep,” the peeve said. “We’ll never get rid of her now.”

  “What I want to know is who the bleep is this demoness,” Jess said. “This isn’t any of her business, is it?”

  “That’s why she’s interested,” the peeve said. “Metria is interested in everything that isn’t her business. She’s a prime annoyance.”

  “I certainly am,” the demoness said. She was now a fully formed naked nymph. The children would have been interested in the peek, except that they were girls and the boy was gay. Had the demoness known that? Still, it was an annoyance.

  “You know how to get rid of her,” Nia murmured to Jess.

  Oh. Jess got up and approached Metria. “You fascinate me,” she said. “I want to know everything about you. I’m sure you have a phenomenal story to tell.”

  The demoness looked at her. “As if I could ever take you seriously,” she said, and faded out.

  “That curse does have its uses,” Magnus remarked.

  But Jess wondered whether it had been too easy. Had the demoness really gone, or did she merely want them to think she had gone?

  Regardless, they now had their mares. But where should they go from here?

  Chapter 5

  Princesses

  “Where, indeed,” Magnus agreed. “Normally in a fantasy adventure, which is what this seems to be, they assemble the cast of characters, then they tackle their mission together. Maybe that’s what we have to do.”

  “And we still have two princesses to find,” Jess said.

  “I understand that Ula has been known to host one.”

  “I’ll fetch her,” Myst said eagerly. “Imbri is curious, too.”

  In perhaps a moment and three quarters, plus an instant or two, Myst was back with Ula. “Yes, I host Princess Kadence,” Ula said. “She’s my age, ten, when she visits.”

  “She’s not ten at other times?” Jess asked with a hint of irony.

  “No. She’s only one year old now. But she visits from nine years in the future, when she’s ten.”

  “Isn’t there a certain, well, conflict?” Magnus asked. “What about paradox?”

  “I don’t know. She stays away from her baby self, because it might mess up her time line, and that would affect Kadence. It’s only her spirit visiting, anyway. Maybe that doesn’t count.”

  “If she’s satisfied, then I think we must be satisfied,” Magnus said. “Especially since we may need her to complete our complement.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to compliment her. She mostly keeps her royalty low key, with us. She just wants friends.”

  Magnus smiled. “I used a similar sounding word. Compl-E-ment, not compl-I-ment. It means being part of a, well, group.”

  “Oh,” Myst said somewhat blankly. “Okay.”

  “Are Princess Kadences’s visits random, or can you summon her?”

  “Neither. She comes when she chooses, but she checks every so often to see if there’s a reason.”

  “Would our mysterious mission be a reason?”

  Ula’s features shifted subtly. “Yes,” she said in a new voice.

  “Hello, Princess Kadence!” Magnus said. “I am Magnus, and this lady is Jess. She is cursed so that nobody takes her seriously, though she is a serious person. That’s why I am doing the talking at the moment.”

  “Now that is interesting,” Kadence said. “May I touch you, Jess?”

  Jess shrugged. “If you wish. But the contact may repel you.”

  “We shall see.” Kadence held out her hand.

  Jess took it—and immediately felt a subtle but amazing power. “You’re a Sorceress!”

  “I am. All descendants of Great Grandpa Bink are. My talent is Alignment, making things align to a beat, or a cadence; in that manner organizing them.”

  “But you . . . what I’m feeling—”

  “I am aligning you to my frame of reality. I can take you seriously, at least while I am touching you.”

  Jess laughed ruefully. “I wish you could hold my hand while I’m kissing Magnus!”

  “I could, and he would take you seriously. But I suspect you want adult
privacy, and I’m a child.”

  And there was the flaw: the bleeping Adult Conspiracy. “At any rate, according to the Good Magician, we need to have two princesses in our complement. That is—”

  “In your group,” Kadence said. She smiled, and it was a princessly smile. “No, I did not know the word. I got it from Ula.”

  “Are you interested, Princess?” Magnus asked.

  Kadence eyed him with an expression not entirely childlike. “To work with you, handsome man? That could be interesting.”

  Oh, no! It seemed it was not just grown women who threw themselves at Magnus. The girl was only ten years old, like her host, but she was a princess. They might follow different rules. She was remarkably mature for her age. What would happen if the girl Sorceress physically touched Magnus? That power of alignment . . .

  Then the figure shifted back to Ula. “Kadence gets crushes, as girls do. But she’s smart enough to know they are largely meaningless, just passing fancies. She doesn’t take them seriously. She had one on Dell last year, and that passed.”

  “That is good to know,” Magnus said. “I like children, but not in that way.”

  “She understands.” Now Ula eyed him. “But there is something about you. I feel it myself.”

  “It’s my talent,” he said. “To make things come together compatibly. Maybe it is related to the Princess’s talent of Alignment. Women do tend to respond to it. You are a girl, but soon enough you will be a woman, and your reactions are orienting. But I have every intention of being true to Jess, even if I can’t take her seriously.”

  Jess was relieved to hear that. Magnus was an honest man. That was one of the myriad things she liked about him. If only she could—but she couldn’t.

  Then the girl’s aspect shifted again. “I understand,” Kadence echoed. “Apart from that, I do believe your mission is important. I can sense that we are approaching a nexus that could be vitally relevant to the welfare of the Land of Xanth, and you, Jess, are in its center. I will join you, though I don’t promise to remain in this host all the time.”