“There may be loan sharks,” Robert warned them. “They frequent the Gold Coast. They’ll take an arm and a leg if you let them, so be careful.”
“I will handle the sharks,” Astrid said grimly.
They started across. No sharks showed up, but something else did: a fast low scudding cloud. It quickly expanded, blowing a gust of wind at them that started sending them away from the main shore despite their frantic paddling. “Oh, beans!” Pewter said. “That’s Fracto Cumulo Nimbus, the worst of clouds. He has found a parade to rain on, as it were. He is beyond my range to influence.”
“I will see what I can do,” Astrid said. She oriented on the cloud and removed her dark glasses.
In no more than three quarters of a moment the cloud paused, its edges flickering into steamy vapor, then scudded rapidly away. Fracto had gotten the message. Astrid put her glasses back on, satisfied. It was a reminder of just how deadly she could be, when she chose. Kandy was glad they were friends and not enemies.
They resumed progress toward the golden beach. Soon they got there, disembarked, and drew the boat up on the golden sand. Now all they needed was the stork.
And the stork arrived, flying in with its bundle hanging from its beak. It landed, folded its wings, and looked about.
“Your turn,” Astrid murmured to Tiara.
“Oh. Yes.” Tiara walked toward the stork.
The big bird eyed her. “This baby is not for you.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, blushing. She had really perfected her blush in the past day and night. “I am here on behalf of Allergy, who ordered this baby. I will carry it to her, because she can’t come here herself.”
“This is highly irregular,” the stork said. “We deliver babies only to their mothers, not to intermediaries.”
“But she’s right there across the water,” Tiara said. “She’ll have it very soon. We have to do it this way, because--”
“I am not interested in excuses,” the stork said. “Obviously there is a mixup here. I will take this baby back to the stork works.” It spread its wings, about to take off.
This seemed to be another occasion for Pewter to take a risk. “Stork changes mind,” he said. “Agrees to deliver to surrogate mother.”
“But of course there are exceptions,” the stork said.
It was coming clear why a Quest had been required to handle this matter. Their assorted talents were making it possible.
Tiara stepped up to take the bundle. She cradled it in her arms as the stork took off. “Oh, what a darling little boy! I wish I could keep--”
“No!” Astrid and Pewter said together.
“But of course I know better,” Astrid said, smiling wistfully. Kandy realized that that was another pitfall of surrogate motherhood: the desire to keep the baby. The storks were wise to insist on the natural mother.
They got back into the boat. The baby looked at Astrid and cooed. Astrid melted visibly. Then, cautiously, she extended one hand. The baby grabbed a finger. That was all, but Astrid seemed to be in heaven. But soon she disengaged, uncertain how long it was safe for her to touch the baby. The breeze was blowing her perfume away, but that could change at any moment.
Kandy knew that Astrid would never be satisfied until she had a baby of her own. But how could that ever be accomplished?
They reached the key. Tiara got out carefully, and carried the baby to Allergy. Allergy took him and cuddled him. Then both women dissolved into tears. The men looked perplexed, but Kandy understood: they were recognizing the overwhelming value of this gift.
Chase and Curvia Centaur came forward. “The service has been accomplished,” Chase said. “Now we will convey you to the historian.”
It was sad to leave the happy couple so soon after meeting them, but this was the way of it. They had to go learn what they could about their mission.
“This time I will carry you,” Curvia said to Ease.
“Me?” the man seemed about to freak out.
STRAIGHTEN OUT Kandy told him.
The man did, and soon was on the centaur’s back, looking dazed. Meanwhile Tiara joined the others in the pram, sitting beside Astrid. They would have something to talk about; both had felt the power of the baby.
This time Chase led the way, pushing the pram, and Curvia followed. “Are you comfortable, Ease?” the centaur inquired, turning her fore-section around so that she could face him. In the process she brought her magnificent breasts into his sight, up close. He promptly freaked out.
And Kandy transformed, dangling by the man’s side. She scrambled to get mounted ahead of him, his hand on her waist instead of her ankle.
“Hello, dream woman,” Curvia said.
“You know of me?” Kandy asked, surprised.
“We centaurs don’t practice magic, but we do recognize it when we encounter it. I suspected there was something about Ease, and confirmed it when his board touched me. Guessing the nature of the spell, I invoked its partial abatement.”
“You freaked him out on purpose!”
“I confess it,” the centaur agreed. “He will be secure enough for the duration. I wanted to meet you. Who are you, and how did you come to be enchanted in this manner?”
“I am Kandy. I went to a wishing well to wish for excitement, adventure, and romance, but instead got changed into a board. But actually I am getting the first two.”
“And surely the third, in due course. I suspect the wishing well, trying to handle a complicated wish, found a devious way to grant the whole of it. You probably would not have been able to keep company with the man in your natural form. At least, not in the manner you prefer. Men encountering women of your proportions are not interested in getting to know their finer qualities.”
True words! “But keeping company as a board is no joy! It’s sheer frustration!”
“You are getting to know him well. When he is ready to know you similarly well, the spell may abate, completing your wish.”
“So there may be reason for this frustration,” Kandy said, seeing it.
“Spells are not smart. They operate within their parameters, which are not always convenient for those affected by them. But the spell will not abate until its purpose is accomplished.”
“Unless he loses the board before that happens.”
“There is that risk,” Curvia agreed. “But normally a spell is framed so that it can’t be nullified by accident. Something must make him want to keep the board close.”
“He keeps me close,” Kandy agreed. “His hand is always on my wooden ankle.”
“Is he at all aware of your real nature?”
“On some level he is. He speaks of his dream girl, and has a vague awareness of what I am doing. But he thinks I’m a nymph visiting him in his sleep, fleeing when he wakes. He is frustrated by that.”
“Then he is falling in love with you,” Curvia said. “At such time as he realizes that you are with him all the time, the spell may fade.”
“It shows no sign of fading,” Kandy said.
“Conditions must not yet be right.”
“When will they ever be right?”
“Transformation spells are fairly standard. I have studied them somewhat. Normally they are abated by a kiss.”
“I have kissed him many times!”
The centaur shook her head. “Ah, but the transformee can’t do it herself. It has to be done by the un-transformed one. Such as the prince kissing the sleeping maiden awake after centuries. Probably he needs to kiss you when he is awake.”
“When I’m a board!”
“Yes. He must kiss the board. He may also have to declare his love for you. It varies with the spell.”
“He loves the way I bash monsters. That’s not exactly the same.”
“It is not,” the centaur agreed. “But perhaps the occasion will come. One never knows, with magic.”
Then they passed a tree with hanging foliage. A branch brushed Ease’s head, and he snapped out of his freak. Kandy was the bo
ard again. But her dialogue with Curvia had given her something to think about. Maybe there was a way out of this enchantment. All Ease had to do was kiss the board, maybe. Then she would do the rest.
They arrived at a centaur stall in a town. Kandy, her attention on her dialogue with Curvia, had not noticed the passage of time or geography. “This is the home of Cognition Centaur, our most learned historian,” Curvia said. “If anyone can provide the information you require, he is the one.”
An old centaur came out. “Ah, Curvia,” he said. “It is surely too much to hope that you seek me with romance in mind.”
“Too much,” she agreed, smiling. “These are the humans we told you about. They have completed a service to us, and we hope you will be able to help them glean the information they need.”
“And if I do, will you vouchsafe me a kiss?”
“Possibly.”
He sighed. “The filly plays hard to get.” He glanced at the people. “Come in, Ease, Mitch, Com Pewter, Astrid, Tiara and whomever else may be along.” He turned and led the way into his substantial stall.
So he knew them. He had to have been given a complete briefing, and had the chance to do his homework. Again, Kandy saw how efficient the centaurs were. They might play little games of flirtation, but they knew exactly what was what.
The central room of the house was what appeared to be a comprehensive library. Cognition was obviously a scholar. They were made comfortable in chairs that must have been brought out for the occasion.
“Now if you will kindly frame your question, I will endeavor to address it,” Cognition said.
“We must locate the antidote to the virus that is destroying the puns of Xanth,” Pewter said promptly. “The Good Magician has suffered a lapse of memory, and was able to tell us only that to find it we must merge the hair. We do not know what that means.”
The centaur looked at Tiara’s hair, which was in its wild state, since Mitch seemed to like it that way. Then he looked at Mitch, in his hair shirt. “Presumably you have tried merging your hair without effect.”
“We tried,” Tiara said, blushing. “Our hair didn’t merge, though something else did.” Her blush became deeper.
“There are of course different types of merging,” the centaur said. “So the presumption is that it is not your hair to which the fractional prophecy refers. It was proper to try the most convenient hair first, before going farther afield. We must consider what other hair there may be.”
“Yes,” Pewter agreed.
“I have done a bit of spot research on the key terms “pun,” “virus,” “hair” and “merge,” and discovered an interesting and perhaps relevant legend. It seems that long ago in the human realm there was a rogue Magician who created a virus that melted puns.”
“That’s it!” Ease said.
“Perhaps,” Cognition agreed. “He also created the relevant anti-virus as a matter of simple caution; it is not wise to start something you can’t stop. He locked both safely away for future reference and moved on to other things. But it seems that subsequently the virus container corroded and leaked, releasing the virus. So the question becomes where was the anti virus stored, and how may it be found? This becomes complicated.”
Kandy saw that the centaur scholar was taking his roundabout time, but was getting there. But what were the complications?
“It seems the Magician was courting a lovely Sorceress, who demanded as a token of his love and trust some supremely powerful secret. So he gave her the antidote as an engagement gift. That was effective, and the two were duly married and lived reasonably compatibly thereafter. The Sorceress placed the antidote elixir in a magic net in her luxurious hair.”
“Hair!” Ease said.
“The virus did not escape in their lifetimes, and she never used the elixir,” Cognition continued. “Now both of them have long since faded out, and the location of that elixir is unknown. They did have children, and grandchildren, who might know what happened to that precious packet. Find those descendants and inquire. They will surely cooperate once they know the importance of the elixir.”
“You don’t know where they are?” Ease asked.
“I regret I do not. I am a historian, and these folk were evidently not regarded as worthy of tracking, so they disappeared into the larger fabric of the human society. I am sure they exist, but my references do not clarify any further detail.”
“What about the merging of hair?” Astrid asked alertly.
“I did discover some slight reference to that, or at least to the hair. It seems that the Sorceress had quite impressive hair, voluminous, glossy, and lovely. Those qualities were passed along to her children, any of whom could be recognized instantly by the appeal of her hair. I presume it carried through to the grandchildren, but there the record becomes obscure. There simply is no reference. I do not know what ‘merging’ in this connection might mean. It is not a term that is commonly applied to a person’s hair. I can only conjecture that after the Sorceress faded out her hair might have been saved and plaited into cloth, in this manner merged. Or perhaps it needs to be so plaited, for your purpose. But this is speculation only, and should serve only as a corollary reference. Perhaps if you can find the descendants it will become clear.” He smiled at Tiara. “I don’t suppose you have Sorceress ancestry, my dear? You do have remarkable hair.”
“Not that I know of,” Tiara said. “And no one else in my family has hair like mine. My sisters’ hair is all quite well groomed.”
“I suspected as much. This, then, seems to be the limit of my usefulness to your party. I fear it will not suffice to evoke a kiss from Curvia.”
Kandy realized that he had really wanted that kiss; academics did not get much access to lovely creatures. That gave her an idea. KISS HIM she sent to Astrid.
The basilisk girl was astonished. But I’m a--
A SURPASSINGLY BEAUTIFUL WOMAN, IN YOUR TRANSFORMED STATE. ASK HIM. WARN HIM.
Are you sure?
IT’S A REASONABLE GAMBLE. TRY IT.
Astrid took the plunge, trusting her friend’s judgment. “Yet it provides useful direction for us,” she said to the centaur. “Will you accept my kiss in lieu of Curvia’s? You will have to hold your breath, lest you become intoxicated by my perfume.”
Cognition contemplated her, surprised. “Because you are a basilisk,” he said thoughtfully. “Yet your human form is fetching, assuming it is as represented.”
Astrid glanced at Tiara. “Take off a sequin.”
Tiara did, as Ease and Mitch turned away, having learned caution. The dress went translucent. Astrid stood there in her phenomenal near-nude glory.
“Oh, my, yes,” the centaur agreed appreciatively. “I believe I will.” He approached Astrid, picked her up by the elbows, and kissed her on the mouth. Then he set her down a bit unsteadily; he must have caught a sniff of her perfume. “That will certainly do.”
“You’re welcome,” Astrid said, looking unsteady herself. Kandy realized it must be her first such kiss. Basilisks did not get many such opportunities. It had been a mutually rewarding experience. Kandy knew she had done right.
Then Tiara pinned the sequin back on, unbidden. The scene changed.
Chapter 7:
Voyage
“Attention, all personnel. This is Grey Murphy, your Captain, speaking.”
Kandy looked around. A group of folk were gathered in what appeared to be the control room of a mundane spaceship. They were men, women, and centaurs, all with badges identifying them as crew members. The Quest people were all here, too.
“And you know,” Captain Grey continued, handsome in his double-breasted woolen naval pea-coat. “Several years ago the centaurs launched a colonizing ship bound for Alpha Centauri, where they hoped to find a planet without magic or puns. They promised to report on their progress every year. At first they did, employing the Very Large Array of enhanced magic mirrors, and the settlement seemed to be progressing well. They were building many stalls in the expe
ctation that more centaurs would soon be going there. Eventually they hoped that all centaurs would live at last totally free of egregious puns and obscene magic.
“But then they stopped communicating. The Array seemed to be in order, but we could evoke no answer from the colony. We have not heard from them in two years, and fear mischief. Hence this space mission, commissioned by my wife, King Ivy, and staffed with the very best personnel, including our three daughters, Princesses Melody, Harmony, and Rhythm, who comprise the Special Assault Team.” He gestured to the three young women, who smiled fetchingly. They looked to be about eighteen, and Kandy knew they all were general-purpose Sorceresses whose power squared or cubed depending on how many of them acted in concert.
Grey paused, letting the significance sink in. Any mission that required the services of all three princesses was serious indeed. Kandy knew that one of them, Harmony, was destined to be King after Ivy, because she was the most sensible of the three. There had been clumsily squelched rumors of phenomenal naughtiness on their part, such as employing a temporary aging spell to violate the Adult Conspiracy, or tackling the notorious Ragna Roc bird, but they seemed to be shaping up to becoming reasonably responsible citizens.
“Now we do not know what is out there,” Grey continued after a pause of approximately the right length. “Whatever might have prevented the centaurs from contacting us might also prevent us from returning home safely. So this may be a dangerous vision, going where no human has gone before, only centaurs. Whatever is a threat to centaurs may also be a threat to Xanth itself. Our mission is to discover what has happened, to search out and rescue survivors, and to return as quickly as possible to Xanth. Under no circumstances are we to attack. Is that understood?” Grey’s gaze fixed sternly on the three princesses, who reluctantly nodded in unison.
“This is primarily an intelligence gathering mission. We are not a battle cruiser and we have none of the assets of one. While all of you have been chosen for your unique talents, to make this mission possible, you are also here because you believe in Xanth, and because you believe in and care about each other. We do mean to rescue the centaurs, but to do so without violence if at all possible. Nothing can stop us when we work together.”
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