Fire Sail

by Piers Anthony

  “But you must understand, I can’t be your girlfriend. You must not love me. You will regret it the moment you do. I hate the idea of doing that to any man.”

  Dell found himself liking her already, for her attitude. “Well, there is a rationale. I—it seems I have to go through two more girls before I find the one I can keep. So I suppose you might as well be one of them.”

  “Please. This is unkind. It is not at all the kind of thing I want to do.” She grimaced cutely. “Which of course is part of the curse.”

  “There is also the aspect of the clue,” Nia said. “Mure, we have been going from clue to clue, each one signaling our next adventure. Our most recent one was ‘demoness.’ So far the clues have been for particular challenges, such as helping a giantess escape a tesseract or helping the Robot Realm establish diplomatic relations with the human kingdom. The failed romances have been side dishes, as it were. It may be that our mission this time is to help you break your curse, but it could be for something else where we might need the help of a demon. Have you any idea about that?”

  “I have no idea,” Mure said. “I am just a very ordinary demon girl, only a few centuries old, with no special skills.” She shrugged. “In fact, I don’t even have full demon abilities, thanks to the curse. So I fear that I can do you no good, much as I’d like to.”

  “Well, we’ll see,” Nia said. “Now you should meet the children.”

  “Children? I am really no good with them. I never know what to say.”

  Nia smiled. “They’ll take care of the talk, I’m sure. This way, please.”

  Del scrambled into his pajamas and followed them out. He couldn’t help noticing the slight gentle sway of Mure’s hips under her skirt as she walked. There was nothing wrong with her figure.

  Tata and the peeve were there. “This is D Mure,” Nia said. “She may be in your databanks.”

  The dogfish’s screen flickered. “She is,” the peeve said. “No blots on her record.”

  Nia clapped her hands. “Children, your attention for a moment.”

  The four children appeared, pajamaed.

  “This is Demoness Mure, who will be staying with us a while. Please treat her with appropriate courtesy.”

  “No hotfeet?” Squid asked.

  “Or whoopee cushions, or jam on the chair,” Nia said sternly.

  “Oh, another girlfriend?” Win asked.

  “Perhaps. Mure, this is Win, and Squid, and Santo, and Ula. They help out with the boat.”

  Mure made a visible effort. “I—I—hello.”

  “You’re shy,” Santo said.

  The demoness blushed.

  “We know about awkward feelings,” Santo said. “Ula is from a nasty orphanage. Squid is a—well, show her, Squid.”

  Squid changed her arms into tentacles.

  “And I am gay. That is, when I grow up, my romance will be with a man.”

  “Oh!” Then she blushed again. “I didn’t mean—I never met—”

  “We understand,” Santo said. “My point being that we’re not typical children. We know about being different. We won’t tease you.”

  “Mure is under a curse,” Nia said. “She can’t pop in and out the way other demons can. We hope we can help her break it. Now go back to bed. Tomorrow is another day.”

  The children obediently returned to their room. “That went well,” the peeve said.

  The three of them returned to Dell’s room. “Dell has trouble sleeping alone,” Nia said. “You can keep him company tonight.”

  “But he—he’s male,” Mure protested.

  “Trust me. He won’t maul you.” Nia departed.

  “You don’t have to share the bed with me,” Dell said quickly. “I know this whole business is supremely awkward for you.”

  “I don’t want you to love me!” the demoness wailed.

  Dell laughed somewhat ironically. “I may not be able to help it. But I promise to treat you with respect.” He lay down on the bed.

  Mure visibly nerved herself. She lay down beside him and took his hand. Her hand was quite warm and comfortable, and there was a faint pleasant demon muskiness about her. “Company I can be,” she said faintly. “I will sing you a lullaby.”

  Before he could protest, she started singing. It was utterly beautiful.

  Dell closed his eyes. In under two moments he was asleep.

  He woke to find her still holding his hand. “You didn’t have to do that all night,” he said. “Once I get to sleep I’m all right.”

  “I could feel you were hurting. I had to try to help.”

  “I—am hurting,” he agreed. “You made it easier. Thank you.”

  “Please, don’t let me hurt you similarly.”

  “You don’t like hurting people,” he said. “I know how that is. Yet sometimes it seems unavoidable.”

  “Yes. But we can try to make it as little as possible.”

  Dell got up. “I have to wash and dress. You don’t have to watch me. But we can still talk.”

  “Yes,” she said faintly, averting her gaze.

  “I am in the throes of losing the woman I would have liked to have married, so it’s probably rebound. But I find I like you. You have a tender heart.”

  “Actually—”

  “I know. Demons don’t have hearts. I’m speaking figuratively. You care about other folk.”

  “Yes. Some call me undemonly in that respect.”

  “Metria.”

  She was surprised. “How did you know?”

  “She’s another third of your friend Mentia, so you must have met. She can be pretty cynical. But her child form, Woe Betide, is nice.”

  “I confess you interest me. I thought you were just a random man, with no use for demons other than the sexy ones.”

  “I am a random man, I think. I—I’m attracted to pretty girls. I know that is foolish, because appearance is only superficial. My ideal girlfriend is probably somebody I would hardly notice, because she’s not pretty outside. I am trying to broaden my perspective. So far that has led me to pretty girls who aren’t exactly conventionally human, like a zombie, a mermaid, a prospective Demoness, a child from the future, a princess, a girl in a cooking pot—well, she’s human, but the context was unusual—a lady giant, an outright bad girl, and a robot. None of them as it turned out where right for me. And now a shy demoness. So you fit the pattern. It’s not your fault.”

  “I’m not exactly human,” Mure agreed. “I am reasonably pretty, because we can assume what forms we choose and foolish vanity makes us choose that. And I’m not right for you. I do fit the pattern. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Since I seem to need two more failed romances before I find the right one, and you need to win the love of a mortal man to spurn before your curse is abated, we seem to be destined to interact in that fashion. At least we can do each other some good in the process. Maybe we should just go ahead and do it.”

  Mure put her face in her hands and wept.

  Dell, now dressed, went to try to comfort her. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do. He put his arms around her and gently patted her back.

  “Oh, blep!” she swore in maidenly manner, omitting the second E. “I can’t help myself.” Then she kissed him.

  It had the impact of a sledgehammer from heaven. Little hearts flew out to orbit their heads. He knew immediately that she could be the one.

  They stood there embraced as the hearts slowly cleared. “I wish you weren’t cursed,” he told her.

  “I wish you didn’t have two more to go.”

  “Otherwise we could make it.”

  “We could make it.”

  “Mure, after the curse is abated, couldn’t you come back?”

  “I’m pretty sure I couldn’t. Curses don’t let themselves be voided so readily. All the
love I had for you would become loathing of similar strength.” She shuddered. “It would take me a century to get over it.”

  That made sense. “Bleep.”

  Her delicate ears reddened from the harsh word, but she held on. “There may be an imperfect way.”

  “Oh?”

  “If we stop ourselves from loving each other, we could keep company. I could—could do with you what I wanted to last night. What you wanted to. It’s not actions that count, just emotions.”

  “But your curse would not be abated.”

  “I would have to stay close to you,” she agreed. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not right.”

  “And you must do what you feel is right. That is part of what make you so attractive.”

  “I can’t—can’t share your favors without loving you. That’s what stopped me with the other girls.”

  “That is another part. You can’t make love without being in love. I don’t think I could either.”

  “I think we are at an impasse. Until we follow the script we’ll be in torment.”

  “Please, just set me down anywhere and float your boat elsewhere. I will not be able to follow you. That will hurt less than the script.”

  “I’m not ready to do that either.”

  “And that’s a third part,” she said. “Even your indecision becomes you. Then let’s get on with the day. I’m sure there will come a night when we decide.”

  That was what he was afraid of.

  They went out to join the others. Nia knew immediately that there had been serious but not critical interaction between them, and said nothing. She was very good at saying nothing at the right time.

  Soon Mure was together with the children. Santo had broken whatever ice there might have been the day before, and now they all related to one another. Before long they were playing a game of five-player money poly from the ship’s supply.

  Dell, Nia, Tata and the peeve went above-deck. “We’re working on it,” Dell said, knowing they were interested. “The irony is, we believe we could make it, were it not for the curse that brought us together. She’s an awful nice girl.”

  “Well, we found the demoness,” the peeve remarked. “But what’s our mission?”

  The dogfish bonged. Dell was startled; he hadn’t heard him do that before.

  They looked at the screen. WORLD OF 3 MOONS.

  “Oh, the princess needs to visit her home world,” Nia said. “They’ll have a wedding to organize.”

  “Now must be the time,” Dell agreed.

  They went below. The game was concluding, with Mure the big winner. The children had surely arranged that, to give her confidence.

  “What should I do with all this play money?” she asked.

  “Maybe buy a kiss from Santo?” Win suggested naughtily.

  “It’s not enough.” They all laughed. Santo didn’t mind being teased by friends.

  “Time to weigh anchor,” Dell said. “We’re going to pick up Princess Froma.”

  “Good!” Win exclaimed, delighted to have something important to do. The children piled up the ladder to the upper deck.

  As they organized for the excursion, the peeve spotted something to the side. “Rasp berries! My favorite!”

  “But those are inedible,” Nia protested. “They are used mainly to sharpen the talons of dragons and birds of prey.”

  “And my dialogue,” the peeve said. “I’m getting out of shape since Nia stifled me, but the berries will get me back into shape.”

  They guided the craft to the patch, using the oars to stroke the air for this short distance, and Squid reached out to pick a small pailful of berries, her tentacles marvelously precise. She gave it to Ula, who ran to deliver it to the peeve. But on the way she tripped over an oar and sprawled face down on the deck, the pail flying from her hand and turning over by the hatch. The berries fell out and rolled every which way, leaving little scratch marks. Some dropped down the hatch.

  “Oh!” Ula exclaimed, in tears. “I’m sorry!”

  “Don’t worry about it,” the peeve said graciously. “I’ve got them.” It busily picked up the berries one by one, like a chicken.

  Dell closed the hatch. The peeve would find the dropped berries when they went back below.

  They returned to their places, Mure close beside Dell at the sail. She exclaimed, impressed, as he ignited it, and impressed again as they sailed up into the sky. “What a wonderful boat!”

  They were trying not to fall in love. She was not making it easy, though she was just being herself.

  At noon they paused to have lunch. Dell heaved on the hatch cover.

  It wouldn’t lift.

  It became apparent that it was jammed. It had a locking mechanism that clicked into place when it was closed, to prevent it flying open during a storm and deluging the lower yacht. Now they were locked out.

  “The rasp berries!” Ula exclaimed. “Some got into the works and scraped them up. It’s all my fault.” She was near tears again.

  “It was an accident,” Nia said. “Nobody’s to blame.”

  “I can make a hole,” Santo said.

  “Don’t hole the boat!” Dell exclaimed.

  “I can fix it,” Mure said. “That’s within arm’s reach.”

  They watched as she sat on the hatch cover and dissolved into smoke. Tendrils of smoke delved into the crevices.

  After no more than a moment and a half, the demoness re-formed. “Try it now.”

  Dell hauled on the cover. It came readily up. She had indeed fixed it.

  “Now we know why we needed a demon,” Nia said.

  “But if I hadn’t tripped—“ Ula said.

  “Ula, it was probably fated,” Santo said. “If you hadn’t tripped, somebody else probably would have. The Good Magician’s message anticipated that, so that we would know not to turn the demoness away.”

  Dell and Nia exchanged another glance. The boy was sharp!

  “I didn’t fix the whole thing,” Mure said modestly. “I got the one that was jamming the mechanism, but I fear there are others.”

  Nia smiled. “Then don’t depart from the boat before they manifest and are cleared.”

  “I won’t,” Mure promised. It was clear that she, too, was relieved that more than her curse was in operation.

  They arrived at the Werewolf demesnes without further incident. Froma and Prince Jerry were ready. Both freely showed their four-­fingered hands, and were obviously in love. It was apparent the moment Jerry boarded that his soul was similar to that of his late sister, the one Astrid Basilisk had inherited. The children instantly loved him.

  “I know how that is,” Froma said with a smile.

  “This is Demoness Mure,” Dell said. “My, um, girlfriend of the moment.”

  “Of the moment?” Froma asked sharply.

  “I am cursed to spurn him the moment he loves me,” Mure explained shyly. “That’s not at all my choice. But our relationship is necessarily temporary. It can’t last, by definition.”

  “You poor girl. You must tell us all about it while we travel.”

  They settled in. Santo made a hole to the World of Three Moons, finding it easier because it was now a familiar address. They sailed through, then set their course for Froma’s kingdom.

  The hatch jammed again. Mure fixed it without delay. “If only curses were so readily fixed,” she said sadly.

  They anchored for the night by the swamp where they had hidden before. Santo went to fetch Noe, who got to tour the boat this time.

  “Santo has a girlfriend?” Froma asked. “Perhaps I misremember.”

  “No, he’s gay,” Noe said. “I am noe his girlfriend in that sense. But when we grow up and learn about Conspiracy things, I will protect him from women who think they ca
n change him.”

  “If I loved any woman, it would be her,” Santo said.

  “Hey—is that a threatening woman?” Noe asked, pointing at Win. “Quick, we must kiss!” And she kissed him while Win giggled. So did Squid.

  “She teases me,” Santo said ruefully. “My sisters think it’s funny.”

  “Well it is,” Ula said wistfully.

  “I envy them their camaraderie,” Mure murmured.

  Then, alone together for the night, they struggled. “I want so much to—to be with you,” Mure said. “And I know you want to be with me. But I can’t let you. Not until the last rasp berry is out of the works. We don’t want to strand the boat.”

  That was the least of the problems on Dell’s mind. “I don’t think I can even hold hands with you without wanting more.”

  “That much maybe I can fix.” She took his hand, then puffed into smoke. Only her wrist and hand remained.

  He hauled the ball of smoke in by the hand, and kissed it. It blushed. “Oh, you shouldn’t kiss me there!”

  Where was “there”? He fell asleep while she sang, fondly imagining different portions of her anatomy.

  When he woke, he discovered his head on a very soft pillow. It was the ball of smoke again, with a couple of rounded mounds. He was careful not to inquire where.

  Next day they traveled again, reaching the kingdom. The children enjoyed touring it while the adults made the formal wedding arrangements.

  But Mure was in tears. “I wish I could be a bride.”

  Dell wished so too.

  In due course they made the return sail. There was another hatch emergency, which Mure fixed. “That was the last rasp berry,” she said. “I can tell. Now it is safe for me to go.”

  “Bleep.”

  She blushed, as she so readily did. “I confess I even like the brutality of your speech, d—Dell.”

  She had been about to say “dear” but had caught herself. He knew because the first “D” wasn’t capitalized.

  They delivered the happy royal couple back to the werewolves, then parked for the night, uncertain of the next voyage.

  Mure bid farewell to the children. “We can’t wait any longer,” she said tearfully. “The script is too urgent. But I do want to tell you that you have taught me not to fear children. Maybe some day, far away, I will have some of my own.”