Jest Right

by Piers Anthony

  “That’s good enough,” Jess said. “We prefer that Ragna and Em be reasonable in the face of the threat. It’s a finesse.”

  “Finesse?” Astrid asked.

  “We hold a very high card that we prefer not to play,” Jess explained. “Once Ragna and Em know that we have that card, which is you, Astrid, they may back off, knowing that if they don’t, they will die. That it is no bluff. In that manner we hope to get what we want from them without anyone dying.”

  Astrid nodded. “Yes. That is the way I prefer it.”

  “The way we all prefer it,” Nia agreed. “One other thing: Kadence told me there were telepaths on Ragna’s staff, before. How can we surprise him?”

  “From what the princesses say, he is still in the process of conquering Xanth, this time,” Astrid said. “There should not have been occasion to assemble a full cast of minions. So probably no telepaths, yet.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Nia said grimly.

  Dolph came over. “We men realized something,” he said. “I can’t just walk into Castle Roogna, which is where I think Ragna Roc will be, without being recognized by many folk there; I am a familiar figure. Magnus suggested that I transform into a troll, that he can use in his play.” He looked carefully at Astrid. “He has in mind a kind of romance between the two of us, for dramatic purpose only. Can you handle that?”

  The veil frowned. “Do I have to kiss you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do not remain close enough to breathe my ambiance long, or jog my glasses off.”

  Dolph laughed. “Oh, I won’t! Electra would be most displeased if I returned to her dead, and she knew I had been trading intimate glances with a basilisk.”

  “Let alone kissing her,” Astrid said. They both laughed.

  In the morning they bid farewell to Art and Firenze, and set off again, their party augmented by the addition of Astrid Basilisk. The children were plainly in awe of her, and not because of her deadly glance. They all loved her. She had saved them, and Xanth, when she was a protagonist. Just as Jess was trying to do now.

  Jess was surprised as they walked by how feminine and companionable Astrid was. She was every inch a woman despite being a basilisk. Much as Squid was all girl. It was a continuing education in perspective.

  Suddenly, there it was: the Timeline of Xanth, in the form of a four sided metallic obelisk that extended downward below ground level, and upward into the sky. Its surface was densely covered with words and numbers. It could have been an inert monument, and maybe was for the average person, but they knew better.

  They stood around it, gazing down and up. “This is the point where anyone who has second or third thoughts about the mission should express them,” Jess said, holding Ula’s hand.

  There was part of a pause. “How about third, fourth or fifth thoughts?” Myst asked, tittering.

  The others laughed, but not entirely easily. “Lead on, protagonist,” Magnus said.

  But Jess wasn’t quite ready yet. “Remember, we need to get into Ragna’s close presence without his knowing what we are up to. We’ll put on a show for him. Then we’ll unveil ourselves, as it were.”

  “We thoroughly reviewed this,” Magnus reminded her gently. He was reproving her for stalling.

  “According to Tata, all a person has to do is touch the Timeline in the right place to be transported there,” Jess said. “But the gradations are so fine that if two people touched it, their fingers only a fingernail apart, they would land in slightly different times. Such as an hour ahead or behind each other. We can’t afford that. So we need to go to the right level without touching it, then hold on to each other, and one person touches it. Then we all will land together.”

  “Makes sense,” Magnus agreed.

  “We have to go only nine years into our future,” Jess continued. “That looks to be about head height. So we can form a chain, and the lead person can touch it.”

  Magnus took Jess’s hand. Then the others linked hands behind him, all the way back to Myst at the end, the littlest.

  Could it really be this easy? “Aria, Kadence,” Jess said. “You have been there before. In fact it’s your home time. Can you guide me? We want to be maybe a day after when you two princesses fled.”

  She felt the impulse traveling up the chain, activating her free hand. She let it be taken over by the princesses. She reached forward and touched the Timeline with one finger, at 1128. Touched and withdrew within half an instant.

  Nothing happened. The line remained leading up to the Obelisk.

  Then Princess Kadence spoke from the middle of the line. “We are there. See, the foliage has changed.”

  Jess looked—and they were there, maybe. The sun was in a slightly different place, and the nearby trees looked sightly older. “You’re sure?” Jess asked.

  “We’re sure,” the two princesses said, their hosts letting go and standing independently. “This is our home-time.”

  “Next question, for the record,” Magnus said. “Where is Ragna Roc?”

  “He came to Castle Roogna to wipe us out,” Aria said. “He should remain there until he builds his own new castle. That could take some time.”

  There was the confirmation of what they had assumed. They did need to get it right.

  “I happen to know where that castle is,” Dolph said with a smile. He had of course lived there in his youth. “All aboard.” He changed to roc form.

  They piled on. “This is a new experience, for me,” Astrid remarked as she settled in between Jess and Nia, with Myst at her feet.

  “We travel in style,” Jess said.

  Within the hour by several moments, they landed well beyond the moat at Castle Roogna. They got off, and the roc reverted to the man. Then the man became a hideously ugly green troll. Jess was glad they had all seen it happen, so that they knew they were not under attack.

  They formed into a compact group and approached the drawbridge, which was down but guarded. The guard was standing, gazing with surprise at the approach of such a party. Magnus became the spokesman, his aura of verisimilitude practically radiating out. “A greeting, my good man. We are a traveling ensemble coming to entertain Ragna Roc. Kindly allow us to cross the bridge without delay.”

  The guard, bemused, did just that. They were gambling that most of the castle personnel would react similarly, because Ragna’s conquest was still in its first hours and new protocols had not yet been organized.

  They made their way across and into the castle, not only flummoxing the guards but getting them to cooperate in clearing the way for their entry. Jess had to admire the way Magnus handled it. His talent was the opposite of hers; nobody took her seriously, but everybody took him seriously.

  They came to the main audience hall. There they were intercepted by a handsome woman of middling age Dolph recognized; he signaled Magnus with a glance.

  “Ah, Dame Em Pathy,” Magnus said grandly. “Just the person we were looking for.”

  “You were what?” she demanded sharply. She clearly had an attitude, as befitted the most dangerous woman on the premises.

  “We are a traveling ensemble,” he repeated. “We have come to amaze the new ruler of Xanth, Ragna Roc. Surely he is fatigued by his recent labors, and more than ready to settle down on his comfortable nest for a relaxing show.”

  “What, you have someone with a spot on the wall talent?” she demanded, not at all impressed. “We’ve seen that sort of thing before. One man even made many tiny spots, forming a moving picture. So unless you have something more original—”

  “Kindly usher us in. You will not be disappointed.” Magnus reached out and smartly spanked her bottom. “That’s a good girl.”

  Em opened and closed her mouth two and a half times, unable to get a word out to protest this phenomenal impertinence. Jess was sure that no one had ever treated her this way before. T
he members of the cast seemed to be biting their tongues to stop from bursting out laughing.

  “Thank you,” Magnus said blithely, just as if she had granted permission, and marched on by her, leading the troupe into the presence of the conqueror bird. At the moment Ragna was listening to roc music, as rocs did in their off moments.

  Jess had thought she was prepared for this encounter, but discovered she wasn’t. It wasn’t that Ragna Roc was visually impressive; he was dull brown. It wasn’t his size; Dolph in roc form was the same size. It wasn’t his throne; he had none, and was resting in a giant nest on the floor. It was his sheer presence. The power of his magic surrounded him like a scintillating cloud. She was awed despite herself. This bird was the real thing. She remembered the legend of his contest with the three princesses, Melody, Harmony, and Rhythm, three Sorceresses whose power when they merged it was cubed, so that they could do marvelous things like making Fibot. Yet Ragna had bested them. What amazing power!

  “Well, hello Ragna Roc!” Magnus said grandly, as if undaunted. “I am Magnus, Master of Ceremonies, and this is my ensemble. We heard you were in town, and we just had to come to properly entertain you. We shall put on a fine short play we are sure you will like.” He was coming across just like a glad-handing rogue seeking to ingratiate himself with the new order. The kind of person the big bird surely had use for: a yes-yes man.

  There was no apparent response from the big bird. Was it falling flat?

  Em Pathy hurried up. “Ragna, these scoundrels just barged in!” she exclaimed angrily. “And that man spanked me! The unmitigated nerve! They need to be deleted!”

  “What, before we put on our wonderful play?” Magnus asked rhetorically. “Perish the thought, lass! I should spank you again for even suggesting it.” Before she could react, he turned back to Ragna. “Which would be no chore. She has a fine firm bottom with just the right amount of quiver.”

  Jess was not apt at judging the facial expressions of birds, but she could have sworn that Ragna’s beak twitched. Even he appreciated the sheer absurd insolence of this suggestion, poking naughty fun at the most powerful woman of the new order.

  Em opened her mouth and actually spluttered. “This—this—pervert actually dares to brag of it!”

  “See? She agrees,” Magnus said smoothly, as if this were a friendly dialogue. “Her nice buttocks must still be reverberating with the sheer joy of it. But alas this is not the time for a repeat performance.” He smiled conspiratorially. “Maybe tonight, when things are more settled and cumbersome clothing can be dispensed with. That should be an inordinate pleasure for us both, as I’m sure she agrees. Right now we must assemble a suitable audience to buttress your enjoyment of the show. Tell her to see to it.” He had even accented the butt part of buttress, amending the pun. He was excruciatingly nervy and sharp, impressing Jess despite her familiarity with him.

  Em opened her mouth once more, practically breathing fire. But Ragna twitched one wing just slightly, hardly more than a feather, and she stifled it. She departed the scene. There was no question who governed here.

  “In the interim, let me explain the nature of our show,” Magnus said. “Normally I solicit volunteers from the audience to play the key roles, but that seems too awkward on this complicated occasion, so we’ll do it in-house, as it were. I have here a fine cast of actors, including some pretty damsels.” He glanced at Nia, who smiled, even managing to force a slight blush in the manner of an ingenue, a delicate flower of dawning womanhood. Again, the cast stifled mirth.

  “And appealing girls,” he continued, with a glance at Noe. She curtsied appealingly, probably guided by Aria.

  “And winsome children,” with a glance at Squid. She tittered winsomely.

  “And ugly men.” Dolph, as the green troll, grimaced in ugly fashion.

  “And a couple of were-mares.” Win and Myst became Imbri and Mairzy, the black and white horses. Even Ragna might have been impressed; not every show featured shape-changers.

  “But mainly, we have Atrocia, our resident jester who distracts the audience while the rest of us are setting up the main show.” Jess nodded without further expression. It was not quite yet time for her act. Also, she was terrified.

  Meanwhile the audience had assembled. They were seated on folding chairs and the floor, forming a large half circle with Ragna in the center. Em Pathy was efficient, when given her orders. Jess found herself admiring that. She might have liked to have the woman for a friend, were they not on opposite sides.

  There were a number of ladies who were watching Magnus closely, with covert smiles. Familiar story!

  “And I see we are ready,” Magnus said. “Hello, all. I am Magnus, with a show to amaze you and thrill you. But first, to warm you up, here is our lady jester, Atrocia.” He gestured to her as he backed away.

  “Hello,” she said, sliding into her routine. She was glad it was so familiar, as it served as a crutch to slide her past her momentary stage fright. “I am Atrocia. Nobody takes me seriously.” And nobody did; she had them laughing from the start. She was really in the groove, doing her best yet, as if her fear gave her wings. She realized that even here, performing for a scourge she meant to abolish, she really felt at home making the audience react. She liked being the court jester, and did not want to give it up. If only she could turn it off at night, in bed.

  They loved her disastrous encounters with men. No matter what embarrassments any women in the audience might have encountered, Atrocia’s were worse.

  “After that last failure,” she continued, “I was sick to my stomach, so I went to the bushes to relieve myself. There was a roll of paper, but when I reached for it, it avoided me. It had writing on it. In fact it was a newsletter printed with ads for children’s playthings for rent. I was not a child, so couldn’t take it. It was toylet paper.” The children laughed hardest at that one.

  “I heard there was a good man in a nearby castle. It had a moat with a drawbridge. But the drawbridge was lifted clear of the moat. There was a corpulent lady garbed like a Valkyrie on the other side. ‘Please lower the bridge,’ I called to her.

  “‘I will sing,’ she said.

  “I opened my mouth to protest that I didn’t want to be entertained, I wanted to get across the moat. But before I could do that, she opened her mouth and sang an aria.” Princess Aria, disguised as her host Noe so as not to be recognized, sang it very nicely.

  “And the drawbridge came down,” Jess continued. “Only then did I realize that it wasn’t over until the fat lady sang.”

  There was a solid round of applause as she finished. “You’re hilarious,” a young man called. “And really not bad looking for a clown. I’d like to have at you with your clothes off.”

  “Thanks, handsome,” she called back. “You can puke on my panties anytime!” There was another burst of laughter. They loved this, and so did she. She could banter with men on stage in a way she never could when supposedly serious.

  She retreated, and the main show advanced. “This is the story of blighted love,” Magnus said. “Once upon a time, in a fantasy realm far far away, there was this woman with an apt figure but a face so ugly she had to wear a veil at all times, lest it curdle milk, pollute the air, and wilt the flowers.” He indicated Astrid, who wore a close fitting gown that flattered her surprisingly evocative figure, and a heavy veil that covered all but her eyes, which were masked by solid dark glasses. “Her mother was at her wits’ end to figure out how to get her safely married and out of the house, when no man would look at her face without flinching and turning away.”

  There was Nia, now garbed like a matron, wearing a frown-faced mask. She was surprisingly competent emulating the nuances of an older woman. She shook her head in frustration. Aria’s voice sounded, humming background music that generated the somber mood.

  “Then she got a notion,” Magnus continued. “She took her daughter to a young se
er who was just making a name for himself by providing answers to intractable problems. He would examine her and pronounce a remedy.”

  Matron Nia hauled the reluctant daughter Astrid along, using the girl’s long dark hair as a leash. The audience, primed by Atrocia’s monologue, took the humor of it in stride. They came to the seer, Santo, wearing a mysterious headband to show his profession, who patted the girl all over in the manner of a choice doll, evoking more audience laughter. This was the examination. Any man of the audience would have been glad to do a similar one on any woman, particularly one as shapely as this. Astrid acted as though this were an expected part of the process. Here too, things were possible on stage that would have caused outrage in real life. This was a significant part of the appeal of any stage production. Suppressed desires could be flaunted. Fortunately the audience did not know that this boy was in a manner this woman’s son.

  “And gave the answer: she must find a man who is uglier than she. Only when they kiss will her horror abate.”

  The matron took the girl away and started the search, trailing their servant girl, Myst. They walked around the edge of the stage area, looking at faces, but no man in the audience was ugly enough. Then at last they came to a woodsman chopping wood, with his servant girl Win picking up the pieces and stacking them neatly to the side. He was truly ugly. In fact he was a green troll. Maybe he was ugly enough.

  “Mother presented the case to the troll,” Magnus said. “He was doubtful. He was looking for a wife, even a plain one, but when he looked at Daughter’s face, he winced and turned away, as all men did.” The troll did exactly that, as the young woman lifted away her veil for a moment, only for him, and Daughter did not look exactly thrilled by his features, either.

  “Kiss her!” Mother ordered him. She had a compelling presence, so finally the troll marshaled his gumption, took the girl in his arms, squinched his eyes shut, and kissed her.

  “There was a flash of light,” Magnus said, and Squid lit a flare that shone brightly for a moment. “They came together ugly and uglier, but they came apart as handsome and beautiful.” Indeed, the troll had transformed into a princely man, and the daughter’s veil fell away to reveal scintillatingly lovely features masked only by petite dark glasses. “They were indeed now a handsome couple.”