“And so it was done, and I had had my adventure and completed my mission,” Iris concluded. “The Master Slaver was delivered to the Storm King and never heard of again, and there was no more slavery in Xanth.”
“But you shut me out of the good part,” Surprise complained. “I wanted to see you summon the stork.”
“I know you did, dear, and you know I wouldn't violate the Adult Conspiracy like that, even if I had summoned the stork with that monster.”
“Yeah. But the Demon Rum was fun, specially when he started insulting the Master Slaver.”
“Yes,” Iris agreed somewhat sadly. If only Arte Menia had been as good as he once seemed.
“Did you ever find another romance?”
Ah, the direct questions of children! But it was best to address the painful subject honestly. “Not really,” Iris confessed. “Not until Magician Trent, and that was imperfect.”
“It was? Why?”
Again that innocent directness. “It was a marriage of convenience. I wanted power and he needed a wife. We didn't love each other. I think he never really forgot his Mundane wife who died.”
“But didn't you summon the stork to get Queen Irene?”
“Yes we did, dear. And I came to love Trent. He was exactly the kind of man I needed. But he never really cared for me. Not that I blame him.”
“Why not? Aren't you pretty enough?”
“Perhaps I am now. But when I married Trent I was forty-one years old and somewhat dowdy. Of course I enhanced myself with illusion, but he knew the truth. In fact he insisted that I use illusion for all public functions. But he always knew me for what I was, physically and mentally. He never said anything unkind, but he had no passion for me. So the double tragedy of my life was that the man I might have loved turned out to be a slaver, and the one I did love didn't care for me, though I tried to pretend he did.”
“But you're young now—and so is he. Why don't you do it now?”
“Do what now?”
“You know—all that stuff I don't know. Passion and storks and stuff.”
Iris sat amazed. She was young and so was Trent. He was a man who liked beautiful women; she had seen it in her fifty years of marriage to him. He had never acted on it, being a man of scrupulous conscience, but she knew he would have liked to—in fact now would surely still like to—
“You're right, dear. When I return to my husband, knowing all I do now, I shall not let opportunity pass unclasped. Thank you for reminding me of the obvious.”
“You're welcome. Hey, see—we're coming into Hinge again.”
Iris looked. It was true. They had completed another loop. Apparently the train didn't really go anywhere.
It had been pointless to use it to search for ' might as well have stayed where they
;ly, she realized that she had after all acof their mission. She had an excellent inlere the philter was hiding.
Hiatus walked through the city, reasonably confident that he wouldn't find the philter. But if he could somehow distract the philter's attention while one of the other parties ran it down, that would be enough. So he tried to look purposeful.
Mentia formed beside him. “Where are we going?” she inquired.
“Anywhere,” he said shortly.
“Here comes Desi. Maybe we can ask her.”
He tried to laugh, but the joke wasn't funny.
The illusion approached them. She was garbed in an off-the-shoulder blouse and a dress with a short tight skirt.
“Why don't you give up this pointlessness and let me distract you?” she inquired winningly.
Hiatus grimaced. “I know you are a mere animation of the philter, and you aren't going to help me find it, so why don't you go away?”
“But I could be So nice to you, if you just let me,” she said.
“The only one I want to be nice to me is the real Desiree, not any soulless imitation.”
“And if he wanted a fake one he could trust, I'd do it,” Mentia said, assuming the form of the dryad.
Hiatus looked from one to the other, disquieted. He couldn't tell them apart. Suppose he thought he was with Mentia, and it was Desi? “I—”
“Good point,” Mentia said, resuming her usual form.
“I'll pop over and check on the others now. So don't trust her.” She faded.
“But—” he protested.
Then he felt the pressure of her invisible hand on his shoulder. Mentia wasn't leaving him; she was merely pretending to, to see what Desi would do. That was reassuring. But he maintained his worried look, so that Desi would not realize. Of course she could read his mind, but maybe she wouldn't do that right now.
“I could help you help her,” Desi said.
“Mentia doesn't need any help.”
“I was speaking of Desiree. Doesn't she have a problem with her tree?”
“Yes. The madness makes its roots square, and it needs round roots to prosper.”
“And your talent is growing round roots.”
“My talent is growing ears, eyes, mouths, and noses. But when I try, here in the madness, it messes up.”
“Here in the madness, your talent is growing round roots,” she repeated. “Which is exactly what the dryad's tree needs.”
Hiatus stopped, stunned. “You're right! I can help her tree!”
“And then you will surely have her love, and can remain happily with her ever after. In fact, maybe you should go back to her right now, to get started on your happiness.”
“Yes!” Hiatus exclaimed.
Then he felt the invisible hand on his shoulder, cautioning him.
“No,” he decided. “Not until Gary's mission here is done.”
“You're such a fool,” Desi said. “Your dryad's tree will die without your help, and the dryad with it. After you have failed here, what comfort will you have there, when you see the dead tree?”
Her words battered his heart, because he was afraid she was right. But he knew she just wanted to get rid of him, and that might mean that the philter feared he was on course to find it. So he resumed his walk.
“You may then think to take the demoness up on her offer to emulate Desiree for you,” Desi continued. “But the moment you leave the Region of Madness, she will revert to form, and be quite irresponsible and crazy. So she won't honor any such deal. You'll be stuck.”
He walked on without responding, though again her words seemed mercilessly accurate.
“But you can gain some piece of your desire with me,” Desi said. “At least you'll have a notion what it might have been like with the true Desiree.”
“You aren't her,” he said, though he felt the wicked temptation.
“But you don't need her. Your problem was that you could never find a woman as fair as she is. But now you have; I am exactly as fair as she is. Fairer, in fact, because I emulate your memory of her in her prime.”
She was still right. But he knew he couldn't trust her.
He kept walking.
“We are approaching the train station,” Desi continued, seemingly undismayed. “Perhaps you should take a train.”
“I've already taken a train of thought,” he said. “That's how we came here.”
“True. But these trains go to special places. Your friends are traveling to the future and the past, and not getting anywhere. Maybe you can find a better one.”
He was about to reject the notion and turn away from the station. But then it occurred to him that she might be trying another ploy. She had tried to talk him into leaving Hinge, and it hadn't worked; then she had tried to seduce him again, verbally. Now she could be trying to trick him into denying her a third time—and thus after all failing in his quest of the moment. Because the train might take him to the philter. So he kept walking toward the station.
“In fact there's a train coming in now,” Desi said with seeming enthusiasm. That was certainly suspicious.
The sign on the front of the train said DREAM. Was that a distraction, or could the p
hilter be hiding in the dream realm? Hiatus had had some limited experience with big zombie gourds, and knew how weird they were inside.
Most gourds could be entered only via their peepholes, leaving the body behind while the spirit ranged through the dream realm. But it was sometimes possible to enter physically, though it was dangerous. What kind of entry would this be, from the madness? The dream realm was already so wild that he could hardly conceive of it becoming more so. For that matter the madness, beyond this more or less controlled re-creation of the ancient city of Hinge, was pretty crazy too. So this train could be going to the wildest, craziest, maddest realm of all. That daunted him.
Which might be exactly what Desi was trying to do. To cause him to avoid the dreadful prospect. So he ought to go right on into it, and maybe find the philter. This did seem like a suitable prospect; it would naturally hide in the place folks were least likely to want to look.
So he nerved himself and boarded the Dream Train of Thought. He stepped up the steps, entered the coach, and sat down in a seat by a window.
And Desi came with him, sitting beside him. Did that mean she still hoped to divert him, or that she had already succeeded in doing so and wanted to be sure he didn't change his mind? He just didn't know. To make it worse, he hadn't felt Menti's reassuring squeeze for a while. She might really have popped off to see how the other teams were doing. That was fine, of course, but that left him alone with Desi, and he was nervous about that.
“Yes, she's gone, for now,” Desi said. “Shall I kiss you first, or show you my panties?”
“Neither, you awful illusion!” he said.
“You'd like both,” she said, still accurately. “And I shall be happy to oblige you.” She leaned toward him, so that her silken hair brushed his shoulder.
“No!” he cried, pushing her away. His hand passed right through her image without effect. He had forgotten for the moment that she was an illusion, despite addressing her as such. “You're just a manifestation of the philter, who wants to stop us from accomplishing our purpose.”
“Of course. But can't we still be friends?”
This struck him as an odd ploy. “Why would you want to be friends?”
“It does get dull, in the course of thousands of years, and I am confined to the Region of Madness. Of course that is growing now, and in time it will govern all Xanth, and I will have everything I may decide to want. But that will take time, and meanwhile it could be entertaining to have a relationship with you.”
“Demons get bored?” he asked, surprised.
“When they don't have the company of their own kind.”
“Why don't other demons associate with you?” he asked, hoping to learn something useful.
“The madness does odd things to demons, as it does with people,” she said. “You may have noticed how Mentia changed. Demons don't really like that, so they avoid it.”
“And you can't avoid it?”
“I am a special demon, anchored to my physical component. Since that is in the madness, I can not leave the madness. I have learned to live with it, indeed, to prosper with it. But I am isolated, and that becomes wearing.”
Something nagged at the fringe of his attention. “Why are you talking so candidly to me? You concealed your nature before.”
“It was not in my interest to reveal my nature, when you were trying to locate and enslave me. Now that you have discovered it on your own, we are entering the next stage: negotiation. It may be that we can do each other some good.”
He did not trust this. “We are people with a mission to help Xanth. You are an alien thing with no interest in the welfare of others. What good can we do each other?
“What do you owe Xanth?” she asked, taking the seat opposite him and leaning forward persuasively. Her somewhat exposed front was especially persuasive. Her form was indeed fairer than that of any mortal woman, and she clearly lacked the maidenly restraint of the real Desiree.
“What has Xanth ever done for you, other than tantalize you with what you long for but can't have?”
That was difficult to answer. He had not been satisfied with his life. The fact that Desi could read his mind did not change the reality of that blahness that was his life.
Xanth had done little for him. Still, there was a matter of principle, and after this mission was done, he could join Desiree Dryad, save her tree, and perhaps win her love.
That would make everything worthwhile.
“But you would still be in the Region of Madness,”
Desi reminded him. “Where I remain. I could destroy her tree at any time, if I chose.”
That electrified him; indeed, a few small sparks radiated out from his fingers. If Desiree's tree was lost, Desiree would cease to exist, because she was the essence of her tree. “Then we must capture you, and harness you into the Interface, so you can't do that.”
She immediately retreated. “I didn't say I would, just that I could. I have no case against the dryad. But I could practically guarantee that you could be with her, by leaving her and you alone. In contrast, if I were limited, and the madness retreated, her tree would be back in un-mad Xanth, and its roots would revert to normal, and she wouldn't need your help. Do you think she would pay you any attention then?”
There was another telling aspect. Hiatus thought he could win Desiree's love if she needed him to maintain her tree, but his chances were next to nil otherwise. He needed to have the madness remain, ironically, in order to have his dream.
But still he didn't trust Desi. “If you remain free, and the madness keeps expanding, you won't need me either, so would have no reason to let me be with Desiree. She and I can be safe from you only if the madness retreats.”
“That depends,” she said, leaning farther forward, so that the top of her blouse fell away from her bosom, revealing its nicely curving architecture, and it became hard for him to pay full attention to her words. Every breath she took was breathtaking for him. “If you and I had a working association, we might be able to afford to trust each other, and do each other considerable good.”
He was amazed. “You are bargaining with me? What could you possibly want of me, other than to let you alone?”
“As I said, it does get dull here, and human company is better than none. I could entertain you considerably, and your entertainment would be my entertainment. Do you believe that?”
“I don't think I do.” He hoped that was the right answer.
His brain wasn't working very well as long as his eyeballs were glued to her gently heaving bosom. But he knew that what entertained demons was not necessarily what entertained the mortal folk they associated with.
“Then try this: there is a service you could perform for me that I would greatly value. I would do a lot for you in exchange for that service.”
Hiatus grew canny, he hoped. “You mean like the service I could do for Desiree's tree, so that she would need me and like me?”
“Yes. If I needed you, I could do an emulation of liking you that you would find persuasive, and certainly enjoyable.” She took another breath, more than making her point. “I am a practical entity.”
“What service?” he asked flatly. He was learning how to think a little, though his eyeballs seemed to be heatsealing themselves in their sockets.
“Moving me.”
Hiatus drew a blank. “Doing what?”
“Moving my physical component from one place to another. So that I could travel. Then I would no longer be confined to the Region of Madness, and could extend my influence into normal Xanth immediately.”
“But to do that I would have to find you!” he protested.
For he remembered that however compelling her twin hemispheres might be, she was not the philter; she was just a projection projected to blind him by cooking his eyeballs.
“Yes. So you can appreciate that I will never allow you to find me unless we have a deal that guarantees your trustworthiness. At present we can not trust each other, but if that chan
ged, we might enable each other to possess our respective dreams.”
Hiatus was amazed again. “You can read my mind. You know I don't much like you, however tempting you make your illusion form. And I'm sure you have no feeling at all for me, except irritation at the inconvenience of having to deal with me. How could we ever trust each other?”
“If you knew that only I could guarantee your happiness with Desiree, and I knew that only you could enable me to travel without danger, we would be bound to each other by realistic self-interest. It could be an extremely mutually profitable arrangement.”
“But I would be betraying the interest of Xanth,” he protested. There was no doubt about it: his eyes had fused in his head, staring at her earnest breast.
“That depends on how you look at it,” she said, glancing down as if to make sure her mock hypnogourds were still functioning. “Since in time the madness will expand to cover all Xanth, and my power with it, you would be merely accelerating the speed of the change, not its nature.
And you would reap extraordinary benefit yourself. In fact if you wished to have nominal power in Xanth, such as becoming king, it could be arranged. I don't care about that sort of thing; my power is expressed in other ways.”
“King?” Hiatus had never thought of such a thing. “No, my talent is not Magician level, and anyway, I'm sort of a nothing person, as my name shows. My sister Lacuna was the same, until she married retroactively. I'm not cut out for greatness. I just want to find happiness with Desiree, and that's all.”
“To quote a memory in your mind: some are born to greatness,” Desi said earnestly, her breathing deepening.
“Some achieve it. Some have it thrust—”
“Hello,” Mentia said, appearing. “I hope I'm interrupting something.” She eyed Desi's décolletage, which promptly misted over. Then the illusion woman faded out.
“Where were you?” Hiatus asked, trying to crack his eyeballs out of their locked positions. “She was seducing me with wonderful promises.”
“And with hot meat, too,” the demoness remarked. She peered into his face. “Sure enough, your eyes corroded.
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