Faun & Games

by Piers Anthony

“Imbri for short,” Imbri said.

  They joined him at the screen. This was a large square panel with a black background. “What's a blip?” Imbri asked.

  “Three little points of light. There's one now.” Stanley pointed with the tip of his wing.

  Forrest saw them. Three bright specks, like stars, in a row, moving quickly across the screen from left to right. In a moment they were gone; it would have been easy to miss them. “What are they?” he asked.

  “A signal. I have to record its exact azimuth and elevation, and relay the information to Central Processing.” The stork used the tip of his beak to peck at several numbers on a keypad.

  “There's another,” Imbri said.

  Stanley looked up quickly. “Oh, thanks. I would have missed that while I was recording the other.” He punched in more numbers.

  “What kind of signals are they?” Forrest asked, still perplexed.

  “You know. Orders.”

  “Orders for what?”

  “Babies, of course. That's the only product we carry.”

  At last it dawned on him. Signaling the stork! This was the recelying end of those signals.

  “Do you get many signals?” Imbri asked.

  “Just the right number. The problem is the infernal bogies.”

  “Bogies?”

  “The irrelevant signals. There's one now.” On the screen was a pattern of two dots. “Only one in ten is valid. The others are spurious. We have to weed them out.”

  “How does someone send a bogie?” Forrest asked, fearing that he knew the answer.

  “By going through the motions at the wrong time, or not completing them,” the stork said. “Or when they aren't qualified. Demonesses do that a lot, and nymphs. They think its funny to imitate the procedure, when they aren't on the list for deliveries.”

  That was what he had feared. All his celebrations with nymphs were just cluttering the stork's screen. He felt guilty.

  “The valid ones are bad enough,” Stanley said, catching another blip.

  “If those idiots had any idea how hard we have to work to prepare a delivery, and get it exactly right. I mean, suppose we delivered an ogret to a human female? Think of the notoriety that would cause. But no, they keep signaling merrily away all night, as if it's nothing at all.”

  “How are babies actually made?” Forrest asked. “I mean, once a valid signal comes.”

  “Well, it's complicated. We-” Then the stork glanced warily at him.

  “Are you cleared for restricted information?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Then move on. I'm busy enough as it is.”

  Stanley seemed to have a case. “Sorry,” Forrest said, somewhat lamely.

  They moved on. Other storks were busy handling paperwork and sorting and wrapping babies. There was a loading dock where storks hooked their long beaks into the top loop of the slings holding the babies, and with much labor took off on their delivery routes. It was a very busy scene.

  They reached the far corner of the castle, and saw the straight and narrow ledge crossing the back side. “There must be some way to get into the castle,” Forrest said. “But between the funeral and the storks, I don't see it.”

  “I don't either,” she agreed. “We really don't belong to either the beginning or the end of life; we're in the broad middle section. Should we cross to the other side and check out the funeral again?”

  “I'm not sure what good that would do. If only there were something halfway between the extremes!” Then he paused. “Do you think it could be literal?”

  “Literal?”

  “Halfway between the two sides of the castle.”

  “That's so stupidly simple it can't be right.”

  “Right,” he agreed, remembering how similarly stupidly simple the solutions to the Challenges of the Good Magician's castle in Xanth had been. Yet none of them had been obvious ahead of time. Magician Humfrey just seemed to have a way of making ordinary folk feel stupid.

  They walked down the far side of the castle. There, halfway, was a small door. They tried it, and it opened. They had found the way in, passing the second Challenge.

  Inside was a large chamber with a raised stage at the far end. There was painted scenery, and several people before it. A man was directing the exact placement of the scenery, and giving the others admonitions for their performances. It was a rehearsal for a play, and it was just beginning.

  “I'm not sure we belong here,” Forrest said.

  The Director turned. “Be silent and sit down, or I'll throw a curse at you.”

  “Curse fiends!” Imbri whispered. “Don't annoy them.”

  Forrest had heard about the curse fiends. They lived in a castle under Lake Ogre Chobee. They all had the same talent, that of throwing curses, and they put on plays. They didn't like interference or competition. Sensible folk stayed well clear of them.

  He looked at the door, but it had closed and barred itself. They would get hit by a barrage of curses if they tried to get out, because the door would surely make a lot of noise, disturbing the play. That was the way of such things. So he looked for the nearest chair, and Imbri looked also. They would have to watch the play rehearsal. Maybe they could get away when the intermission came.

  There were two empty seats in the audience. Unfortunately they were not together. So Forrest had to sit between two young men, while Imbri sat between two women.

  “Hello,” the man on the left whispered. “I am Justin Case. My talent is to always have just the thing someone needs.”

  “Hello,” the man on the other side whispered. “I am his twin brother Justin Time. My talent is to have my brother present just when he is needed.”

  “I am Forrest Faun. My talent is to care for my tree.”

  “Well, that is surely a worthy endeavor,” Justin Case said in a disparaging tone. “At least it lacks the frustration I experience. I always have what others need, but never what I myself need.”

  “Our talents don't work on ourselves,” Justin Time explained. “I am never in time to do myself any good, and I don't help my brother either.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Forrest said. “I can see that it must be very frustrating.”

  “Yes. We'd give anything to have even one bit of selfish good fortune, like marrying two lovely young women and living happily ever after.”

  Forrest wished he could help them, and wondered whether he should give them the dear horn to use. But then the stage was called to order, and the play began, so that had to wait.

  An old man stepped to the center of the stage. “The Curse Fiends present Raven, a play in one act by Sofia Socksorter, the Good Magician's wife.” he stepped away.

  A young man came on the stage and stood before a painted mountain. “I am called Son,” he announced. “I am the unacknowledged son of Magician Grey and Sorceress Ivy.” He looked at his feet. “It seems they took too long to marry, so when the stork brought me, they weren't ready. So I was raised in an orphanage, with no proper name. But now I am eighteen, and ready to claim my heritage. But first I must perform some significant service for the King, so that I may earn my recognition. I also want to prove that my talent of the ability to manipulate people's minds is truly Magician caliber, because someone claims that it's not that my mother Ivy Enhanced it to make it seem greater than it is. So now I will go to Prove Myself and Seek my Fortune.” Son marched in the direction marked To, which was his near future.

  Meanwhile the light on him faded, and another brightened on another part of the stage, showing a painting of a fancy castle. Inside the castle sat a man on a throne. The man wore a crown. “I am King Dolph,” he announced. “I am the human ruler of Xanth. My talent is to assume any form I wish to.” He suddenly turned into a dragon, then into a male harpy, then into a unicorn. He returned to man form. “But today I am receiving visitors, in case any member of my kingdom has a comment or complaint.” He glanced to the side. “Queen Electra, who is here?”

  A wo
man wearing blue jeans and a crown appeared. “It's a man who claims to be your real father.”

  “This should be interesting. Send him in.”

  Electra pushed an electric buzzer. A buzz sounded, and a door opened. A man entered the royal chamber. He looked somewhat scruffy “So you claim to be my true father?” King Dolph inquired. “Don't you know that I am the son of King Emeritus Dor and Queen Emeritus Irene? That was established long ago.”

  “No it wasn't,” the man said. “You were delivered to me, but I was busy cutting magic canes, so I set you under a cabbage leaf in the Castle Roogna garden and went on with my work. Before I could return for you, Queen Irene discovered you, and claimed you for her own. There wasn't much I could do, because I had to deliver my load of canes to the local store immediately or I wouldn't get paid for them. By the time I had done that, I had forgotten all about the matter. But now I have remembered, so I have come to fetch you home and put you to work cutting more canes, so I can retire.”

  King Dolph did not look entirely pleased by this news. “It is true that I was found under a cabbage leaf, but that's because the stork was unable to get into the closed castle.”

  “No it wasn't,” the man insisted. “It's because I put you there. My wife was most upset when I mentioned it this morning, and insisted that I set the matter to rights immediately.”

  “I will have to ponder this,” King Dolph said. “Come back next week.”

  “ My wife won't like the delay.”

  “Here is a pretty bead. Give her that to distract her.” King Dolph plunged his hand into the Royal Treasury and fished out a sparkling bead. He gave it to the man.

  “Gee, she'll like that,” the man said, departing with the bead.

  “Next,” King Dolph said in a businesslike manner.

  “That will be Son,” Queen Electra said. “He just arrived.” She pressed her buzzer.

  Son entered. “And what can I do for you?” King Dolph inquired politely.

  “I am your unacknowledged cousin Son. I want you to send me on a significant quest, so I can prove myself and claim my rightful heritage as a member of the royal family and maybe marry a nice princess.”

  “That's a worthy ambition,” King Dolph agreed. “Very well: go find out whether the man with the bead really is my true father.”

  “Okay. I'll go to Stork Headquarters and check the records.”

  “Do that.”

  Son exited. The light faded on the King and followed Son. He walked slowly across the stage, and the scenery moved past him in the opposite direction, showing his progress. But before he got to the Stork Works he encountered a pretty girl. She had long dark hair with a matching dark temper.

  “I say,” Son inquired, “are you by any chance a princess?” For he had always been intrigued by dark-tempered girls; there was just something about them. His attitude on stage showed this clearly.

  “No, I am merely Raven, an ordinary person whose talent is to change the color of my eyes to match my moods.” Her eyes brightened as she spoke.

  “Too bad,” he said with real regret. “For I mean to marry a princess.”

  “Too bad,” she agreed, her eyes darkening moodily. “For you are a handsome man with the look of a Magician about you. I mean to marry a Magician.”

  “Well, maybe you'll find one. Are you going my way?”

  “I believe I am. Shall we travel together until we separate?” Her eyes turned hopeful blue.

  “That works for me.” So they walked together, and the scenery moved on behind them to show their joint progress.

  “Shall I tell you my abbreviated life history as we travel?” Raven inquired as the scrolling scenery threatened to become repetitive, and therefore in need of distraction from.

  “I am always interested in the life histories of pretty girls,” Son said. “Even if they aren't princesses.”

  So she told him her story. “My mother wanted me to be a powerful Sorceress. She wasn't much impressed with my eye colors.” Her eyes turned motley dull depressive brown. “So she made a deal with a demon.

  The demon gave me a bottle on a cord around my neck. It enables me to take snatches of other people's talents and store them inside the bottle. Then I can use these samples of magic.”

  “Oh, I say now-could I use any of those talents? I can think of some that would be really handy.”

  “No,” she said regretfully, her eyes turning a gloomy gray. “There is a spell on it which allows only me to use it. In return for this bottle, which does on occasion give me Sorceress-like powers, my mother agreed to give the demon her other child to be his slave. She believed it to be a good bargain, because she had no other children.”

  “One can never be certain of such a thing,” Son said. “I am the unacknowledged first son of Magician Grey Murphy and Sorceress Ivy, and now I have returned to make my status known. I am on a quest to ascertain whether King Dolph has an unacknowledged father.

  “That's fascinating,” Raven said, clearly unfascinated. Her eyes turned dishwater dull. “I am now sixteen, and I have a lovely sister named Robin. I am afraid that the demon is going to take Robin away to be his slave, especially if she grows up to be as pretty as I am. She is fifteen, and shows every sign of it. So I am traveling to Castle Roogna to seek help.”

  “But I just came from Castle Roogna,” Son said.

  “Why didn't you say so?” Raven demanded angrily, her eyes turning smoldery.

  “You didn't ask.”

  “Oh. Well, I suppose I had better turn around and go the other way.”

  “But you can't do that!” Son protested.

  “Why can't I?”

  “Because I have fallen in love with you.”

  This made her pause. “But I'm not a princess,” she protested.

  “But you are beautiful.”

  “True,” she said reasonably. “But however persuasive that may be, it still doesn't make me royal, unfortunately.”

  “Yet if I successfully claim my heritage, and am recognized as a prince, and marry you, then you will become a princess,” he pointed out with a certain appealing logic.

  Raven's eyes turned speculatively bright. “I suppose if you prove to be a Magician, it would be feasible. You are, after all, a handsome man.

  “Good. Let's get on to the storks.”

  “The storks!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “I wasn't ready to go quite that far, that fast. I think signaling even one stork is a very serious thing, especially before marriage.”

  He realized the nature of her confusion. “I am going to Stork Headquarters, to check the records of deliveries, to ascertain whether King Dolph was delivered to Dor and Irene, or to an anonymous cane cutter. For some reason, the King wishes to know.”

  Raven's eyes blushed beet red. “Oh! I'm so embarrassed. I thought you meant-”

  “Well, I certainly wouldn't mind summoning the stork with you, so if you prefer to take it that way-”

  “No, I think I'll quit while I'm ahead,” she decided, her eyes becoming a peaceful green. “Let's go question the storks.”

  So they continued on to the Stork Works, which were exactly as Forrest and Imbri had seen them. The stork in charge of Records didn't want to show them to unauthorized personnel, but Son used his talent to change its mind and satisfy it that they were authorized. They looked on the page listing Dolph. “Delivered to Ruben and Rowena, cane cutters,” it said.

  “Oh no!” Son said, somewhat dismayed. “I fear I will have bad news for ex-King Dolph.”

  “I fear I have even worse news for him,” Raven said faintly.

  He looked at her in surprise. “What could be worse than suddenly never having been a king?”

  “Suddenly being enslaved to a demon.”

  He stared at her in wild surmise. “You mean?”

  “Yes! Ruben and Rowena are my parents. He is my Long-lost brother I never knew I had.”

  “But how is this possible? Dolph is thirty years older than you are.”

&
nbsp; Raven's eyes turned a nonplused color. “Why, I never thought of that.

  They aren't old enough. This whole scene is impossible.”

  “Cut!” the curse fiend director cried. “This is all wrong. How did that ending get in the play?”

  “I'm sure I don't know,” Raven said.

  “Look, Madame Take, you spoke the line. You-”

  “My name is Miss Take,” the actress said primly.

  “Well, this is all your fault, Miss Take! You got the line wrong.”

  “Don't yell at my sister like that!” another curse fiend exclaimed.

  “You are the one who cast her in that role.”

  “As a favor to you, Out Take,” the Director retorted. “Now we're in a prime picklement. Tomorrow is the show; it's too late to get another actress.”

  “Well, if you were a better director, you'd have had an understudy.”

  The director pulled out two handfuls of his hair. “Oh, woe is me!

  The shame of it! The play won't go on!”

  There was a silence. Slowly Forrest realized that this wasn't really a curse fiend play rehearsal, but a Challenge: he was supposed to figure out what to do. That meant that there must be something, if he could just comprehend it.

  He was getting half a notion how these things worked. The elements of the Challenge were always in plain view; it was just a matter of understanding their relevance. There usually wasn't much that was extraneous; most of a given setting was pertinent. That meant that the play, the audience, and the chamber all related. But how?

  Suddenly he had it. “You can fix the play!” he called.

  The Director whirled to face him. “What interference is this?”

  “I am Forrest Faun, and I have a notion how you can fix it,” Forrest said, standing. “But it may seem unusual.”

  “No idea is too unusual, if it saves the play. What is it?”

  “My neighbor on my left must marry the actress for Raven.”

  “What are you talking about, you foolish faun?” the Director demanded.

  “The private lives of the actors and audience have nothing to do with the play!”

  “Yes they do,” Forrest said. “Your play went wrong because the actress, Miss Take, has a talent that is bound to foul it up. Since it is too late to change the actress, you must change her name, so that it no longer has a bad effect. As it happens, Justin Case here can do that by marrying her, so that her name becomes Mrs. Case.”