Isis Orb

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by Piers Anthony


  “Hello, Liz,” the Good Magician responded, smiling.

  “This is Hapless,” Liz said. Then, to Hapless: “Don’t aggravate him. He doesn’t like anyone except Mom, and now me. Everyone else makes him grumpy.”

  “Thank you.” How awkward could it get?

  The child departed, and Hapless was left with Humfrey. “No need to inquire,” the Magician said. “She’s right. Everyone else is a pain in the sphincter.”

  This was too much. “You asked me to come!” Hapless said. “Then you tried to balk me.”

  “Until you got out of the box,” Humfrey agreed. “You’d be useless for this mission inside the box.”

  “You mean the whole point of my Challenges was to make me rebel against their idiocy?”

  “Yes.”

  Awkwardness was being displaced by annoyance. “This Quest had better come through.”

  “There is no guarantee. It depends on you, with a healthy dose of favorable luck.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want someone else? My luck is seldom healthy.”

  “My auspices indicate that you have the best chance, indifferent as it may be.”

  “And if I succeed, I’ll get a musical instrument I can play, a girl I can like, and I’ll do Xanth some good?”

  “Exactly. Now return the box.”

  Hapless passed over the box. Humfrey shook it once and gave it back. “Now its nature has shifted slightly. It will have what you need, though you won’t necessarily recognize it at first. I borrowed it from Prize, Surprise’s daughter, who conjures such boxes. It has been around; it even visited Mundania once. However the first five entries will be exactly what you need: the identities of the Companions you will enlist.”

  “Companions?”

  “For your Quest,” Humfrey explained patiently. “You will collect them singly, explain the mission, and when you have all five, you will proceed with that mission.”

  “And exactly what is this mission?”

  “To fetch and use the Isis Orb.”

  “The what?”

  “Must I get down to basics?”

  “Yes.”

  Humfrey looked annoyed, but bore with it. “Then listen carefully.” He took a deep breath. “You will seek, find, and collect together five divergent folk, each of whom has a very special wish, and enable them to achieve their desires. In order to accomplish this you as a group must locate and acquire the Isis Orb. This is a kind of talisman of great power; it will be a problem to learn its mechanism and control it. In fact you will need the five Totems for this purpose.”

  “Wait! You’re losing me. I need to know more about this Orb. That’s like an eyeball?”

  “You don’t need to know its history,” Humfrey said shortly. “Just how to use it.”

  “Whose Quest is this: mine or yours?”

  “Yours, of course.”

  “Then allow me to do it my way. Outside your box. I want that history.”

  Humfrey looked fit to explode, but there was also a certain grudging respect. Hapless had escaped the box, and was determined to stay out of it. Exactly as the Good Magician had advised at the outset. “You are familiar with the Demons?”

  “With the capital D? I have heard of them, but never had personal experience with one. Aren’t they supremely powerful?”

  “Indeed. The Demon Xanth sleeps beneath this peninsula we call Xanth, and the trace leakage of radiation from his body accounts for all the magic of the Land of Xanth. Demons normally pay attention to mortal folk only when using them as a randomizing factor for some Demon Wager, such as whether a given person will turn left or right at a particular corner. Inestimable forces can be invoked in the accomplishment of these Wagers, and Demons gain or lose Status as a result. Mortals may not even know that they are the objects of Wagers; it doesn’t matter to the Demons, any more than the personality of an ant would matter to you if you bet a friend which way it might turn. So it’s best simply to ignore any concern about Demons.”

  “Then why bring it up?” Hapless demanded.

  “Because it accounts for the talisman you seek. It happens that eons ago the Demon Xanth made a Wager with the Demon Earth, whose magic is Gravity, and lost. Thus Earth took a chunk of Xanth’s magic in the form of the Orb and hid it in the deepest core of Xanth, where it would be safe from incidental discovery. It is that Orb you must recover.”

  “You called it the Isis Orb. Why?”

  “That is another story. Isis, the Mundane Goddess of Fertility, learned about the Orb and went to claim it for herself. Now she has it, in a manner, to the annoyance of both Demons, but since it is their policy not to interfere in mortal matters without specific reason, they have had to let it be. So now she considers it hers, by right of Finders Keepers, though that will endure only as long as the Demons elect to remain clear. They may even have a Wager on whether anyone will succeed in wresting it from her, as you will try to do. To do that, you will require the five Totems of Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and the Void, each of which is dangerously powerful in its own right, and use them to control the Orb.”

  “Assuming Isis doesn’t interfere,” Hapless said.

  “Exactly. Only then will you be able to use the Orb for your own benefits. Now are you clear?”

  Hapless opened his mouth to protest, but Humfrey shoved the box in his hands. “Good. Then be on your way. Have a wonderful Quest!” His gaze returned to his huge tome. Hapless had been dismissed.

  “This way,” Liz said from the doorway. “We will get you outfitted for your journey.”

  Hapless followed her out, feeling as if he was back in the box. But if the Quest really won him the things he wanted, it would be worth it. He hoped.

  Back downstairs, Sofia took charge. “You will start tomorrow. Your room for the night is ready. A bell will sound for dinner and in the morning for breakfast; follow it to its source and you will be fed.”

  “Uh, thank you.” Hapless hesitated. “I’m not ready to retire yet. May I talk with you a while?”

  “With me?” Sofia asked, surprised and seemingly flattered.

  “And Wira, and Liz. There are things about Quests I still don’t know, and maybe you could help set me straight.”

  “We will be glad to do that.”

  They settled down to talk. “For example, I am supposed to recover a magic Orb that will be guarded by a goddess, Isis. Who is Isis? He said she’s the goddess of Fertility. Does that mean she makes plants grow?”

  “Ah, Isis,” Sofia said. “She’s Mundane, Egyptian to be exact. Fertility is a euphemism; she’s the goddess of sex. If you’re up against her, she’d as soon seduce you as look at you, and make you her love slave.”

  “Love slave! I wonder—he said I would encounter a bad girl. Could that be Isis?”

  “It certainly could,” Sofia said. “She has a formidable reputation. It’s not all bad; she’s identified with the moon, with the solar disk between her horns. She is also considered Mother Nature. Sometimes she wears a highly symbolic veil; there’s a statue with the words ‘I am that which is, has been, and shall be. My veil no one has lifted. The fruit I bore was the Sun.’ Some consider her image suckling her son to be the prototype of the Christian Madonna and Child. Not that this is widely known in Xanth.”

  “That’s amazing! I think I would avoid her if I could.”

  “I hear that bad girls can be more interesting than good girls,” Liz said.

  “But you’re going to be a good girl,” Wira said quickly.

  “Oh, of course, Mom.” But she looked dangerously intrigued.

  “I also don’t know about this box,” Hapless said. “Humfrey said something about the first five entries being the identities of the people I need. That just leaves me confused. How do I find them?”

  “He can be obscure,” Sofia said. “I’ve seen that box before. Don’t do it now, but when you’re ready to travel, tomorrow, open it and there will be a picture of your first Companion.”

  “Okay,” Hapless ag
reed. “So I’ll recognize that person. But how do I actually find him?”

  “That is easy,” Sofia said. “A path will open up before you. Merely follow it and it will lead you to that person.”

  “A path? Just like that?”

  “An enchanted path that you can follow without danger. That part is easy.”

  “Just don’t step off the path,” Liz warned. “Then it’s not easy. I tried it once, and nicklepedes came after me. I had to summon a big lizard to eat them.”

  “But suppose I need to—” He broke off, remembering that he was talking to a child. “Or are there rest stops?”

  He didn’t fool her or shock her. “Poop in a bag, then throw it across the line.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  “Liz is very practical,” Wira said fondly.

  “Himself is pleased with you,” Sofia said.

  “The Good Magician? He seemed impatient with my questions.”

  “That’s his way. He was glad you asked them. It means you have some wit. Not every Quest taker does.”

  “Well, he came to see me, to get me to take this Quest. He told me to think outside the box. I hadn’t done much of that before, but I’m learning.”

  “He did need someone,” Wira said. “He searched for a long time, but none of the regular querents were suitable.”

  “Querent?”

  “A person who comes with a Question. A query.”

  “Oh.”

  “Then he saw you in a magic mirror,” Liz said. “You matched the specs.”

  “I had no idea!” He decided not to ask what specifications qualified him, lest it be ignorance and stupidity.

  But Sofia answered anyway. “He said you have gumption, if only you could find it. That’s what distinguished you from all the others.”

  So when he had in effect told off the Good Magician, finding his gumption, he had won some respect. That was good to know.

  In due course they had dinner, and he went up to his room. It was a nice one, complete with a shower: a little chamber where warm rain was always falling. There was a bowl with a small dipper on the table, maybe for his refreshment. He dipped out some of the sparkling drink, then paused. Should he be thinking outside the box?

  He compromised. He very cautiously touched his tongue to it.

  He was rocked back by a punch in the mouth. Sure enough: this was a punch bowl. A fitting reminder.

  In the morning he joined them for breakfast. Humfrey himself was not there; apparently he did not mix socially even with members of his family.

  He thought of one more question. “You are the Designated Wife,” he said to Sofia. “That implies there are others.”

  “There are,” she agreed. “Over the course of a century or more he married and lost five and a half wives; then the Demon Xanth played a trick on him and gave them all back to him together. But in Xanth there’s a rule: only one wife at a time. So now each of us takes a turn for a month, and that works well. When one of us gets completely fed up with him, the next takes her place, fresh and cheerful. This is my month.”

  “I’m glad it was. You have been very helpful.”

  “Thank you. Actually it’s been nice talking with you. Few querents seem to have any interest in the rest of us here at the GM Castle. Himself has been even grumpier than usual recently.”

  Hapless had to smile. “As long as I’m not the cause.”

  “You are not. He’s glad you are agreeing to take the Quest. No, what has disturbed him is covert interference by the Demon Destroy-Her, who may be using the Gourd Realm to contaminate other Demons with trace souls, getting them interested in mortal affairs, without Trojan’s notice.”

  “Uh, Trojan?”

  “The Night Stallion, horse of a different color, who governs the dream realm. He asked the Good Magician to investigate, but it’s an extremely touchy business. We don’t want more interference by Demons.”

  “I should think so,” Hapless agreed. It had not occurred to him that the Good Magician could have problems of his own.

  It was time to go. He walked out of the castle, crossed the drawbridge, and paused. Then he took out the box.

  Did he really want to do this? He knew that once he started, there would be no stopping; he would be fully committed. Because of his gumption. But if he turned away now, he would maybe ruin the lives of five innocent people, and never get to find the one musical instrument he could really play.

  Still, he was in doubt. He knew that his life would be at risk. If he went home now, he could settle in as a local farmer or worker and have a safe existence. But a dull one. If he accepted the Quest it surely would not be dull. For one thing, he would find his girlfriend. Or maybe two or three girlfriends, if he included the bad girl.

  For some reason he found himself focusing on the bad girl. Who could she be? The Goddess Isis? Why would a goddess be interested in him? That didn’t make sense; he was nothing. But if not her, then who? What could a bad girl possibly have for him that a good girl would not? Apart from naughty allure? Why was he so intrigued with her, when he didn’t even know her?

  It seemed he had good reasons to take the Quest, and good reasons to avoid it. Why was he thinking about what would surely be bad for him regardless? He could avoid that whole issue by skipping the Quest.

  “Oh, fudge,” he swore, and opened the box.

  Chapter 3:

  Feline

  Inside the box was a picture of a cat with the word FELINE. That was all.

  A cat? His first Companion was to be a cat? Hapless gazed at the picture with dismay. He really was not partial to cats. He didn’t hate them, but he could certainly live without them. It would be a nuisance to associate with one on a presumably difficult Quest.

  Then he realized that this was a kind of proof of the new status of the box. It was showing him what he hadn’t known he needed. He never would have chosen a cat on his own, but it seemed he did need it. Even as odd a cat as this, with blue and white stripes.

  He looked around. There was a path ahead of him that he hadn’t seen before. The one that would lead him to the cat.

  Hapless sighed and closed the box, returning it to his backpack. He set off down the path. After a few steps he paused and turned to look back at the castle. It was there, but then he noticed something else: the path wasn’t. There were trees and brush between him and the castle, no path and no sign that one had ever been there. How could that be?

  Oh—it was a one-way path. He had heard of them. Just to be sure, he faced backwards and stepped along it. Sure enough, it faded out the moment his feet left it.

  He paused again, considering. Did this mean that if he accidentally stepped off the path, it would vanish and he would be hopelessly lost? He hoped not. Then he thought of a way to test it, maybe. He took off his pack, with the box inside, and set it on the ground. Then he walked away from it. The path remained, with the pack at the near end of it. It was the box that shut it down, not Hapless himself. That was oddly reassuring. It meant he could anchor the path in place, if for some reason he had to leave it for a while. But he didn’t plan to risk it. He might not be eager to have a cat as a Companion, but he didn’t want to get lost looking for it.

  He put the pack back on and resumed his walk. He didn’t know how long a hike he had, so it seemed best not to waste time.

  He admired the scenery as he traversed it: forests, fields, hills, dales, thickets, thinnits. It curved serenely around steep slopes, and found fords across streams. It was an easy path to travel.

  Then it passed through a patch of dog fennel. Immediately the guardian dogs appeared, barking. One was a cute little hush puppy, wagging its tail. But they did not get on the path. It passed though a section of cattails, and the tails switched back and forth angrily, but again did not overlap the path. So it really was enchanted to protect him.

  A butterfly came to land on his upraised hand. It consisted of a quarter pound of butter, with yellow wings. But there was something special about i
t. “Who are you?” he asked it.

  “Don’t you recognize me?” it asked in return. “I am not just any butterfly. I am the Chaos Butterfly.”

  “Chaos?” he asked blankly.

  “When I flap my wings, a storm can form far away. It’s an awesome power.”

  “That is impressive,” he agreed, not quite believing it.

  “Well, it’s true.” The butterfly took off and flew away.

  Then he spied a bird coming in to perch on a rock on the path. It had to be harmless, like the butterfly, or it would not have been able to do so. “Who are you?” Hapless asked. “Do you have some awesome power?”

  “I do indeed,” the bird replied proudly. “I am the Tern of Events. Things can change significantly around me. Several villages are named after me.”

  “Oh, I see,” he said, not really seeing. “Can you demonstrate?”

  “Not to you. You are locked onto your path.”

  Ouch! Was he back inside the box, this time in the form of a path? “Well, I have a Quest to handle, and the path will lead me to it.”

  “So you say,” the tern said, and took off.

  Disgruntled, Hapless walked on. Before long he came to a glade where a shapely young woman stood. Her hair was striped appealingly blue and white. The path led to her and stopped.

  How could that be? He had not yet found the feline. “Excuse me, miss,” he said. “Have you seen a cat around here?”

  She turned a sultry gaze on him. “No.”

  “Then something is wrong. This path was supposed to lead me to a cat.”

  “What do you want with a cat?”

  “It’s not what I want. It’s what I’m supposed to find. I really don’t care for cats.”

  “You’re not making much sense. Why look for a cat if you don’t like cats?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said, nettled. He didn’t like a disparaging glance from a pretty girl any more than he liked it from a butterfly or bird. Where could that cat be?

  “Explain it, please.”

  “Why should you be interested?”

  “Trust me: I’m interested. Answer the question.”

 

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