Key to Chroma

by Piers Anthony

  "Understanding,” one said quickly. They retreated. Throe smiled. Betrothal presented an emotional, not a legal barrier to a no fault liaison, and the three sisters had had no difficulty surmounting his liability of age. But both had been effective excuses in this case.

  Jamais had an errant thought as they retired. “Suppose I should some day encounter another changeling woman?"

  "Even a changeling could not take you from a changeling, and I think she would not try. It will be some time before you are even aware of other women, once you spend time with Ino. Your greatest challenges will be to sire a fourth elsewhere, and to allow her to do so."

  "You are correct. There could be a thousand like her, and I would still love Ino, now that I have met her. I would never have considered the others, had I met her first. You knew this, having met the type."

  "Affirmation. So did she.” Throe remembered how readily Symbol had taken him, once she set her mind to it. And Gale—her loyalty was to Havoc, as was his own, but she could have taken him at any time, had she chosen to. Fortunately she was too nice to take advantage in that manner. What a terror the changelings, male and female, could have been, had they not been decent. Still, this was a necessary mission. Their mystery had to be fathomed.

  The next day they moved rapidly toward the cone, using shortcuts Jamais knew. The image of the volcano loomed large.

  "Mischief,” Jamais muttered.

  "There is a problem?"

  "There is an eruption threatening."

  Throe's enthusiasm sank. “I can't wait for it to pass. I am already behind schedule.” Indeed, he was due back at Triumph tomorrow; he would be holding up the others by several days. His only hope was that he would not be the only latecomer.

  "The Air Cone seldom blows violently. Usually it releases gas, and there can be lava flows. I can lead you through it, if there is a route. But you will have to trust me absolutely, and it will not be pleasant."

  "Have I reason not to trust you?"

  "You have located my ideal girl and prevented me from making a mistake that would have complicated my life. Now I am prepared to salvage your life similarly, if it is in my power. You may distrust my competence, but not my sincerity."

  That did seem to be the case. “Appreciation."

  "The lava flows will be invisible to you, or displaced, and their illusions will be multiple. You will feel the heat, and the pain, yet that will not be real. The real ones you will not feel until they kill you. This is why you must trust me: if I seem to be leading you into death, I am not doing so. If you break away from me, you may die before I can call you back. This may become a most unpleasant excursion."

  "I believe it. Proceed.” Throe trusted his military discipline to bring him through.

  They walked on toward the volcano. As if in response, it became active, jetting a plume of smoke into the air. “That is as represented,” Jamais said. “But it will soon intensify the magic and the deception."

  "Because the Air demons are not with the first emergence,” Throe said, working it out. “But they will soon close in to enjoy it."

  "Agreement. They can be mischievous. They prefer to have no animal intrusion in their home territory."

  And people were animals. Throe almost understood their attitude.

  "Now it begins,” Jamais said grimly.

  A vent opened in the side of the cone, and bright red lava spilled out. It flowed down the slope, lovely in its deadly progress. “Illusion?"

  "Displacement. The real flow is coming toward us."

  Throe saw nothing but bare rock between them and the cone. But he did not protest as Jamais led the way toward the visible flow. “Where is the real flow with respect to the coordinates?"

  "Not close, fortunately. But we must cross a channel that will soon fill. We must hurry."

  They ran. The real ground dipped, though the apparent ground did not, so that they seemed to be waist deep in rock. Soon they approached the end of the lava. Horrendous heat radiated from it, and flickers of fire danced across its surfaces. Throe hesitated. This was extremely real. Should he really distrust his senses? Suppose Jamais was mistaken? Was there a threshold beyond which illusion would overpower even this man's ability?

  Jamais took his hand. “We are past the channel, but there are other flows. Walk exactly with me. Do not let go my hand."

  "Acknowledged.” He had to trust the man's ability; nothing else was safe.

  The flow loomed close. The ground crackled as the burning liquid touched it, and the smell was pungent. Throe had to squint as his eyes smarted. He was not a coward, but this terrified him.

  Jamais led him right into it. They stepped into the flow, and clouds of discolored steam rose as their feet disappeared. The pain was horrible. But Throe hung on to the hand and kept walking, discovering that his legs did not terminate at the ankles. He could after all handle this, just as he had when he walked through the walls of Ine's castle. But illusory pain felt just as bad as real pain.

  Then the ground dropped out under him. He plunged into the lava, trying to choke off a grunt of utter dismay. But though now his whole body was bathed in pain, and his eyes were in lava, he still was there, moving his legs. It was indeed illusion.

  They came out of it, and the effects abated. Throe's body had not been burned. Even the drop had not been real. But Jamais did not relax. “We are near the flow. We must walk a ledge parallel to it. Step in my steps.” He released Throe's hand and stepped carefully ahead.

  Throe saw only a level section, no lava. But he copied the man's motions exactly. Jamais had been right about the illusion of lava, and was surely right about the illusion of its absence.

  "Now we climb."

  The ground ahead was level, but Throe felt himself laboring and realized that he was indeed climbing. What treacherous stuff, this illusion!

  "Now we enter the cave."

  Already? The exterior plain remained, but they moved as if wedging into a tight aperture.

  "We are there."

  "But I see and feel only ground and space. How can I find what I seek?"

  "I do not know what you seek, but I can guide your hand."

  So Jamais took Throe's hand and used it to touch empty air. “This is a kind of altar, with eighteen buttons on the top."

  "That's it, I think.” Jamais was pressing down on his hand, but it wasn't going anywhere. Just as he had failed to drop down into Ine's oubliette. “Let me lift the lids and check inside."

  Jamais moved his hand. “Close your fingers.” Throe did. “You have lifted a lid. The chamber below seems empty.” Throe checked it, feeling nothing, but the man assured him he wasn't finding anything. It seemed ironic that he could not trust the feeling of nothing, while it was accurate.

  They did similar with the second lid and chamber, and continued to the sixth. “There is something there,” Jamais said. “A millipede, like the one you rode, but smaller.” He smiled.

  "That must be it.” Throe closed his fingers until they refused to come together, and lifted the invisible, unfeelable ikon out. He put it in his mouth, in his cheek, and still felt nothing, but his cheek bowed out slightly.

  They checked the others, just in case, but found nothing. It was, it seemed, done. The victory was oddly unsatisfying, because of its intangibility.

  They went back. “The flow has changed,” Jamais said. “We must seek a different route.” Throe saw nothing.

  "If we can cross here, we shall have an easy remaining route,” Jamais said. “But the channel is hot; it will burn our feet."

  "Even if we run?"

  "Yes; it will set our shoes afire.” He cast about. “But I see some old, fragmented pieces; we can use them for stepping stones."

  They got to work, moving intangible fragments that nevertheless made them struggle and pant. They built an invisible trail of stones. Then Throe followed Jamais precisely as he stepped from one to the other, seeming to be walking in the air above the ground, and finally jumped to safety beyon
d. It was like a children's imaginative game, pretending there were unseen threats. No pretense now!

  Thereafter the route was relatively straightforward. They passed though another lava flow, and Throe gritted his teeth against the pain and the smell of his own burning flesh, but kept moving. They also passed through a horrendously dark ball of gas that made night of day but did not impede or suffocate them. Jamais was right: these illusions were most unpleasant.

  At last, they made it back to the slope of the more normal terrain. “We are done with the danger,” Jamais said.

  "Relief. But my feet are hurting."

  "Those stepping stones were getting hot by the time we crossed them. The illusion no longer shields your awareness."

  Throe's prior experience with illusion had been limited to sight and occasional sound. Now he had a more formidable appreciation of its potentials.

  They set off down the invisible path toward normal existence. In a moment a figure appeared. “Message,” it said in a dulcet feminine tone.

  "Ino!” Jamais exclaimed. “How come you here?"

  "If I am to marry you, I want to see that you are safe."

  "But this trail isn't marked. Only I can see it. Unless—"

  "She can see it too,” Throe said, catching on.

  The girl merely looked down, blushing.

  Jamais stared at her, astonished. “True?"

  "Not nearly as well as you,” Ino said modestly.

  "We are betrothed. I think it is time to kiss you.” He took her in his arms, and she did not protest. He kissed her, and she kissed back. “Oh, Ino—how is it I was never before aware of you?"

  The girl merely blushed, so Throe explained. “She avoided you, in favor of her sisters."

  Jamais nodded. “But now you should return to your home, so as to be socially chaste until we are married."

  "Acquiescence. But I have a message. My sisters are at the house. They will conduct Throe to Triumph City."

  "They have no need to do that,” Throe said. “I will call on them at their own houses.” But he realized that there was no longer a need to give them the news of Jamais’ choice; they were evidently informed.

  "There is need,” she said. “Throe is badly behind his schedule, because of his dalliances with them. They have decided to facilitate his return, so that he will be in Triumph tomorrow, on time."

  "We will barely reach the house by nightfall,” Jamais said. “It will not be possible for him to be in Triumph so fast."

  "I have a shortcut. And my sisters will pay his way there, by magic transport. They do not wish to see him penalized on their account."

  "A shortcut!” Jamais said.

  "This way, if you please,” she said, and led the way. “I was fortunate to discover it."

  Throe nudged Jamais. “This is one phenomenal woman you are getting."

  The man nodded, and followed. In a surprisingly short time they were at the parent's house.

  The three elder sisters came out to meet them. “Come with us, please,” Ina said, taking Throe by the arm.

  "We have a rendezvous with a floating bubble,” Ini said, taking his other arm.

  "We apologize for delaying you,” Ine said. “But we will make it up."

  They hustled him along another invisible path. Throe glanced back in time to see Jamais wave parting before being led into the house by his fiancée. “Ino set this up,” he said.

  "She has a social conscience that puts us to shame,” Ini said. “We had not realized how difficult we were making it for you."

  "But what of—of the stops I was to make on the return trip?"

  "We shall all marry elsewhere,” Ina said. “We are happy for our sister, but have a hankering for some further experience with you. We drew lots. Ine will be in charge this time, and Ini and I will seek you for fourths later on. We have worked it out."

  So it seemed. “But such a fast trip back—how is that possible?"

  "We shall pay for it,” Ine said. “We have an Air Stone that will enable our magic beyond our Chroma. Ini and I will set up her telescope while Ina does a provocative dance. Then Ini will show scenes of Counter Charm. We believe the proprietors of the floats of the several intervening Chroma zones will accept this as sufficient exchange for emergency transport."

  "Air fare,” Ini said, laughing.

  Throe realized that they could do it. Ina's dance would be spectacular with or without illusion, and the scenes of Counter Charm would pop some eyeballs. And with float magic to cross the zones, they could do in hours what had taken days before. He would be back on schedule.

  "Gratitude,” he said.

  "Don't thank us,” Ina said. “Ino set it up."

  "And we are free to seek other men,” Ini said.

  "But we will work you over first,” Ine said. “We have a certain score to settle with you for depriving us of Jamais. First I will spank you and compel you to perform in an embarrassing manner while my sisters watch. Then we may get into some group action. You will have to satisfy each one of us before we let you go."

  Throe laughed. “In less than a day, at my age?"

  "We are going to wring you dry,” Ine said confidently.

  Ina gestured. “And here we are at the local coach."

  Throe saw nothing, but they led him into what they described as an invisible ball. In a moment they were floating up and across the varied illusive terrain.

  "Now we shall have an hour before we reach the transfer point and have to walk to the fringe of the next Chroma zone,” Ini said. “I will pilot this crate, leaving you in the care of my sisters."

  "Care?"

  But Ina was already starting her provocative dance, while Ine was stripping him of his weapons and clothing. Throe realized that he was going to be busy. Each sister had been more than a handful alone; now all three were tackling him together. And how would he ever explain this to Ennui?

  Chapter 4—Wasp

  Symbol went to the Traveler's Exchange section of the concourse. She entered the line of people, waiting her turn.

  A slightly portly man was on the small stage. “I travel for business to a town in the second White Chroma zone to the west,” he said. “I offer this rare bauble to the man who can get me safely there within three days.” He held it aloft, and it sparkled magically.

  An Amazon stepped forward. “I know the way."

  The man looked at her, surprised. Like most Amazons, she was well formed; they made it a point to stay healthy. “I had thought a man, but if you can protect me—"

  "I can protect you,” she said. “No fault?"

  He considered the feminine aspects of her body. She was lean but serviceable. Amazons were known to be lusty when they chose to be, as though their masculine combat training gave them masculine drives. “Done.” He gave her the bauble and they departed together.

  A woman stepped onto the stage. She was of intermediate age and appearance. “I must travel to see a friend I lost years ago; I am good with cooking and mending, if there is a man going my way who needs such services. I am not looking for sex."

  Two youths answered. “We are going your way,” one said. “Cooking and mending is exactly what we need. We are not warriors, but we can fight as a pair if we have to."

  The woman nodded. “Let's hope there is no need."

  Another Amazon was next. Her body was translucent, signaling her home Chroma. “I came here as a guard for a merchant. Now I must go home to my unit. The trip is dull. Is there a man who can entertain me, no fault?"

  Several men were interested, but none were going her way. Symbol was interested too. “I must go to a site in a Translucent Chroma,” she said. “Is it near yours?"

  The Amazon looked at her. “I seek a man, not a woman."

  "So do I,” Symbol said. “But I have other entertainment. I am of the Air Chroma, and have a gem enabling me to make illusion stories. They have men galore."

  "That, perhaps, will do.” They compared notes, and found that they were indeed go
ing to the same Chroma zone. So the deal was made.

  The Amazon was nicknamed Lucent, from her Chroma, and was satisfied with that name; she would resume her real identity when she rejoined her unit. Travelers often used alternate names; it facilitated no fault relationships.

  "But there is one thing,” Symbol said.

  "You don't have supplies enough for the full trip,” Lucent said, reading her mind. Though Symbol was not telepathic, she had learned to mask her thoughts; part of the masking was to have ordinary superficial thoughts that those of the Translucent Chroma could read. They would be suspicious if her mind was wholly impervious, and that would nullify much of the point of masking.

  "I thought I might travel no fault with a lusty man, and share his supplies.” She formed an image of a torso showing bared breasts and spreading thighs. Hers were excellent ones.

  "As did I,” Lucent agreed. “We are ill matched in this respect. Maybe we should break this up and wait for suitable men."

  "I can't wait; I have a deadline."

  Lucent considered. “It's several weeks’ travel by foot. A day or three here shouldn't matter much."

  Symbol was appalled. “Egregious miscalculation! I have had air fare before, and didn't stop to consider the time by foot. I must return within ten days."

  "Impossible!"

  "In addition, I am not hardened to extended walking."

  The Amazon looked at her with a certain understandable bemusement. “Then we have a problem."

  "I have one way to handle such a problem. Both problems, actually. Chroma travel. No fault."

  "I have no objection in principle to faster travel. There might be Chroma men going our way at one of the intersections."

  "A pair of men,” Symbol agreed.

  "Or a single man interested in having two women together. Can you handle that?"

  "Affirmation."

  "I lack experience with men of other Chroma. In fact, I lack felicity in seductive arts, despite my ability to read their minds. I can perform, but am no siren."

  "Then how did you anticipate getting no fault attention?"

  "I am healthy and tractable, and men of my home Chroma seem to find that satisfactory. They need very little encouragement, and indeed the lust in their minds transfers to mine and makes me lusty too. But I fear otherChroma men may be more choosy, because of the color difference. My hope was to encounter one who would take it to me, as it were, not caring about color."