“Oh, Mother! Father!” Orienta wailed. “This is awful!” But all that issued from her mouth was silence.
The three of them turned to look at the other villagers. Another man was stepping forward to address the intruders. He was Nathaniel, a kindly neighbor. “Now see here,” he said boldly. “Those men were taking underage girls for nefarious purposes. We had to resist”
Suddenly the two minions quailed. The Roc’s gaze fixed on them. There was Lita standing beside Damien, looking frightened.
In an act of inspiration, Orienta stepped forward and raised her hand. She was the other underage girl.
The roc glanced first at Damien, then at Demetrius. Both men’s faces broke out in horror. Then the Roc glanced at the deleted family, his eyes glittering.
Suddenly Orienta felt weight. She was solid again! So were her parents. They had been restored.
“If I understand you correctly,” Nathaniel said, “you have restored the family on the assumption that they will now swear fealty to you”
The big bird nodded.
“And deleted the two Minions for exceeding their authority”
Another nod.
“All you want is fealty, not violation of the natural order. The Adult Conspiracy holds”
The huge bird shrugged.
Nathaniel glanced back at the other villagers. “The demonstration is persuasive. We hereby agree to serve you. Who will you appoint to govern us in your name?”
The Roc considered, then slowly lifted one wing to point at Orienta.
“Me?” she asked, unnerved. “But I can’t possibly—”
“She agrees,” Nathaniel said, with a sharp glance at her. “Orienta will be the village elder, and do your will”
Ragna Roc nodded once more. Then he spread his enormous wings and took off. Soon he was a mere dot in the distant sky.
“And so it has been since,” Orienta said. “The Roc returned us to life, and we are grateful. I am doing his will as I understand it. I am trying to convert visitors peacefully, so that Necess City will be left alone. We are all doing what we have to.”
“What happens if you don’t convert us?” Piper asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing, if the Roc doesn’t care about you. But if he does—”
“Deletion,” Cyrus said.
“Yes.”
“We can’t swear fealty,” Cyrus said. “Our troupe must remain free to travel and present its plays wherever it chooses.”
“Maybe it will be all right,” Orienta said, a tear squeezing from the corner of one eye.
Cyrus wanted to get away from there, but did not want to be obvious about it. “You are too young to entertain guests my age.”
“But not for our age,” Piper said. “Why don’t Dusty and Don and me stay with you while the troupe is in town? I know Dusty would like that”
Dusty blushed.
“That would be nice,” Orienta said.
Piper knew that Don could hear and understand everything, and relay it to Cyrus. So if they learned another important clue, he would know.
Cyrus stood. “Then I will return to the troupe,” he said. “I will be in touch.”
“You will need to designate a place for the troupe to camp,” Piper told Orienta. “About twenty people, including a dragon.”
“A dragon!”
“She won’t eat anyone, I promise.”
“She’s another actress,” Dusty explained.
Cyrus departed. Things were working out reasonably well.
We learned more about the Roc, Rhythm thought. Surprisingly fair minded.
“But nevertheless a tyrant,” Cyrus murmured as he walked.
Sure, we have to stop him. But now we know him better.
“He doesn’t brook any violation of his rules,” Cyrus said.
“The way he deleted his own Minions—that’s instructive and scary”
It sure is. Also the way he can delete and undelete. That bird’s a potent Sorcerer.
Cyrus reached the troupe and assembled it for an update. He described what he had learned about the conversion of the village. “So we must be exceedingly careful what we say and how we act,” he concluded. “We don’t want the give the Roc any reason to come here and delete us.”
“We understand,” Curtis said.
“We do,” Crabapple said, taking his hand. That was interesting, because of course her hand was a pincer; the man would have snatched his hand away if he didn’t trust her.
In due course the troupe entered the village and camped at the designated spot. The people set about pitching their tents and making their evening meal. Several villagers came to watch. They were clearly impressed by the way Jim made food for each person. But especially by the Dragon Lady, who settled down for a snooze without eating anyone.
That night Cyrus tuned in on Don. Piper was teasing Dusty about how he liked Orienta, and Orienta was pleasantly embarrassed. “He may want to remain here, when the troupe moves on,” Don said.
“Well, maybe he can,” Cyrus agreed. “He’s not a member of the cast, and even if he were, we’d let him go if he wanted.”
“But he’s Piper’s friend,” Rhythm said.
“But not her boyfriend”
She nodded. “It will be their decision. Orienta’s a nice girl.”
“That’s the weird thing about these captive villages,” he said. “They have nice people. We couldn’t just destroy them to get rid of the roc.”
“We couldn’t,” she agreed. Then she invoked the Decade spell, and their dialogue ended.
The first play was a big success. The villagers, uncomfortable about becoming isolated, related well to both the curse and Crabapple’s dilemma.
After the play, Orienta brought her parents up to meet Cyrus. Gloha Goblin- Harpy was a petite winged woman of thirty- four, and Graeboe was a winged man, with no trace of his former identity as a giant. It certainly seemed that they had been happy here until the Roc came.
The second play was also well received, perhaps because the villagers related to the plight of the Dragon Lady, able to love a man only in the dream. The villagers’ dream was freedom.
Piper, Dusty, and Don continued to visit with Orienta, between presentations. The four seemed to be getting along splendidly well. “Orienta has company her own age,” Rhythm said wisely. “She must really have missed that”
As the audience assembled in the big tent where “The Riddle” was to be presented, there was a distant rumble of thunder. “Bleep,” the Witch muttered. “That’s Fracto. I know his voice. He’s found out that folk are having fun.”
“And it’s not just parades he wets on,” Demoness Kay said. She was getting her considerable makeup applied, to mask her zombie component.
“Maybe we can finish it before he gets here,” Xina said hopefully.
The others just looked at her. But what else was there to do, except to hope for the best?
The third play seemed to relate less well, but the villagers plainly were enjoying it. Cyrus watched faces as the Good Magician and his five and a half wives traveled and finally found the Demon Xanth, who was in the form of a donkey-headed dragon. The costume crew had done a great job making the Dragon Lady up with a donkey head.
“Nimby!” the Good Magician said. But the dragon ignored him.
“Demon Xanth,” Humfrey said.
The Demon still paid him no attention.
“Let me try,” Dara Demoness said. She put on a hula- hula dance that made the male eyeballs in the audience sweat. But still the Demon did not react.
“Poophead!” the Gorgon shouted. That brought the usual laughter from the audience. Naturally that would never happen in real life. But this was a halfway humorous play.
Now at last the donkey head glanced at them. “Um?”
“All Xanth is going haywire,” Humfrey said. “We conclude that the magic has diminished to half strength because you are seriously distracted. What is your problem?”
“I am dis
tracted,” the Demon said. “By a riddle. I can’t figure it out.”
“Ha!” Dara Demoness said. “Humfrey’s good at riddles.”
“Not necessarily,” Humfrey grumped.
“He’s the Magician of Information,” the Maiden Taiwan agreed.
“That has its limits,” Humfrey said, obviously ill at ease.
“He knows everything,” MareAnn said.
“Untrue. I don’t know how to handle five and a half bossy wives.”
“You’re sweet,” Rose said, kissing his eyebrow, which was as low as she could reach in her elaborate costume dress.
“Nobody knows how to handle one wife, let alone six,” the Demon said.
“Five and a half,” MareAnn said. “I’m the half.”
“You look whole to me.”
“Half a wife. It was a small ceremony. I’m a whole woman.” She lifted her skirt enough to show the barest glimmer of the hint of a panty. That was the most the actress, Piper, could afford to flash onstage. The audience, unaware of her age, loved it.
The donkey head managed to look slightly confused. “I still haven’t figured out Chlorine”
The Demon’s wife Chlorine came onstage. “I heard that!” she snapped. She was portrayed by the Lady Bug, whose folded wing covers made a perfect robe. She was beautiful, as her role was supposed to be. “What are you doing with all these women?”
“They are my wives,” the Good Magician said. “The magical glitch in Xanth caused them all to appear at once. It is driving me to distraction.”
“You poor man,” Chlorine said, sympathetically. “Let me fetch you a glass of water to calm you down.”
“No thanks!” he said quickly. That brought a laugh: everyone knew that Chlorine’s talent was poisoning water. “I’m merely here to see what I can do to fix the magical disruption”
The Demon focused an eyeball on the Good Magician. “Then perhaps you can help me.”
“He will certainly try,” Sofia Socksorter said. “He can sort out just about anything except socks.” That brought another laugh.
“What is your riddle?” Humfrey asked. If there was an incongruity about the Magician of Information having to ask a question, it passed unnoticed.
“My son Nimbus brought it to me. It perplexed him, and now it perplexes me.”
“Is it about whose hair a barber cuts?” the Gorgon asked. “You know, he cuts everyone’s hair who doesn’t cut his own hair, so does he cut his own hair?”
“Woman, get your snaky locks away from here before I cut off their heads!” Humfrey snapped.
“Well, it could be that riddle,” the Gorgon said as her snakelets hissed.
“It’s nonsense,” Humfrey said. “It belongs to a class of riddles that are paradoxical because they are self- referential. None of them are worth bothering with.” He returned to the Demon. “You can see why I am desperate to get things returned to the natural order.”
“That is no riddle,” Nimby agreed with half a smile. The actor, the Dragon Lady, had practiced assiduously to craft that degree of a smile on the donkey face.
“So what is your riddle?” Humfrey asked again, with a circular glare to silence all his wives and also Chlorine.
“The babysitter is tutoring our son Nimbus, and posed it as a riddle for him to stretch his mind with. He did not want to admit he couldn’t solve it, so he brought it to me. Now I don’t want to admit I can’t solve it, and it is distracting me most annoyingly.”
“I’ll say,” Dara agreed. “The only thing a man is supposed to be properly distracted by is a panty.” She hoisted her skirt to flash the male half of the audience. She had extremely well-f illed pan ties, and would have been a seductive terror and a danger to herself and all men in the vicinity, had she not been portrayed by a zombie. As it was, half the men in the audience freaked anyway, not knowing she was a zombie demoness, until she dropped her skirt. They really liked this play. The women were for some reason mildly annoyed, but did like the notion of the wives running the Good Magician’s life.
“Ignore Wife Number One,” Humfrey said tiredly. “She’s got a demon hotbox.” That of course brought another laugh, for the naughty reference.
“Ignored,” Nimby said, shaking the glaze off an eyeball. “The riddle is this: why don’t two chips of reverse wood nullify each other? Nimbus tried putting them together, and they didn’t. Yet reverse wood reverses anything.”
“I have three answers for you,” Humfrey said, dramatically relieved that it was a simple question that would not require research in the Book of Answers. “You may select what pleases you”
There was a deafening crack of thunder, followed by instantly heavy rain. Fracto had arrived.
They tried to continue, but the wind and thunder drowned out their lines, and the water collected in the pockets of the tent, weighing it down. The malign cloud wanted nothing less than to bring down the tent on their heads. They had to evacuate in a hurry, the play unfinished.
Fortunately they were able to extend their tour and finish it the following night. Then it was time to move on.
Cyrus talked with Orienta. “You aren’t going to urge us to swear fealty to the Roc?”
The girl was appalled. “Why would you ever want to do that?”
“Andromeda, at Adver City, tried to persuade us.”
“That’s hard to believe. She hates the Roc.”
“She wants to protect her village.” He did not mention how the woman had whispered other words, which confirmed the girl’s statement.
Orienta nodded. “That’s true. She does what she has to, as do we. But that didn’t work, so I know there’s no point. But I will say this: those who join voluntarily are treated well, and a number have high places in the Roc’s forming Empire. You could do well for yourselves if you joined him.”
“But you aren’t urging us?”
“I hope you don’t. But I was obliged to tell you.”
“Thank you for your candor,” he said. “But we will be moving on.”
“Please don’t tell that I didn’t try to convert you. The Roc would be furious.”
“I will pretend that you tried very hard,” Cyrus said. “But that I was immovable.”
“Thank you. In public of course I have to make the case. But we’re alone now.”
“Ah.” That explained her seeming change in attitude. She resembled Andromeda in this respect, doing what she had to, but not liking it.
“Can Dusty stay?”
“That’s his choice.”
“Thank you.” Impulsively she kissed him on the cheek.
“You are welcome,” he said, moved.
16 LAYEA
The third city was Pompos. After the first two, Cyrus knew better than to expect anything similar. They could encounter something entirely different.
That turned out to be the case. At first the village looked normal, though its buildings were fancier than those of the others, as if the occupants were higher class. The people were also better dressed, as they went about their assorted businesses. As before, they ignored the visitors.
But that wasn’t the remarkable thing. There was something distinctly different about this normal scene. Cyrus was appalled when he caught on.
“These folk are all deleted!” he said.
Curtis stared. “You’re right!” He passed his hand through the wall of a house. “It’s all illusion.”
“So it is,” Crabapple agreed, touching the trunk of a tree, and passing her shrouded hand right through it. “Even the trees!”
“Something must have truly annoyed the bird,” Cyrus said, awed.
They proceeded to the village center. “Hello,” Cyrus called. “Is anybody home?”
The door opened and an ordinary looking girl emerged. She held up a sign printed on a papered tablet: I AM LAYEA. MY TALENT IS TO MAKE ANY MAN DO MY BIDDING, TO A DEGREE. WELCOME TO POMPOS CITY.
Cyrus took stock. “You are illusion?” he asked.
She nodded.
> “And you can see and hear me?”
She nodded again.
“I am Cyrus Cyborg, and this is Curtis Curse Friend. We represent a traveling troupe that puts on plays for village audiences. We were going to ask to make our presentations here, but if no one here is real any more, there may be no point”
Layea hastily printed on the next sheet on her tablet. no, we are interested.
“But if—” He broke off, as she was already printing.
WE ARE ILLUSION TO YOU, BUT REAL TO OURSELVES. WE DESPERATELY CRAVE DIVERSION FROM OUR CRUEL FATE.
Oh. “Of course. I misunderstood. We shall be happy to present our plays here. Just designate a suitable spot for us to camp, and we will put them on one each evening”
Layea smiled. THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU MAY CAMP RIGHT HERE.
“On the street? But that will obstruct your passage” you can’t obstruct us. we will walk through you.
Oh, again. “Thank you. We will do that.” He turned to Curtis. “Why don’t you see to that, and I will try to learn more about the local situation”
Curtis understood perfectly. He nodded and walked away.
Cyrus faced Layea. “I would like to know how it came to this, if you care to tell it.” Because there was surely a lot to be learned about the nature and power of the Roc here.
I WILL BE HAPPY TO TELL YOU, BUT YOU MAY FIND IT UNBEARABLY DULL.
“We have seen evidence of the Roc’s powers and actions in other villages,” Cyrus said. “But they were not like this. Something extraordinary must have happened here”
She nodded. come in. She held the door open for him, though of course it had no substance; he could simply have walked through it.
Her house was typically organized inside, with nice curtains, a table, chairs, and a comfortable couch. I REGRET YOU CAN’T USE THE FURNITURE, SHE PRINTED. YOU WILL HAVE TO MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE ON THE FLOOR. THAT IS ALL THAT REMAINS REAL.
“I understand.” He felt a chair, verifying that it had no substance, and eased himself to the floor. Layea sat on the couch; for her it was solid. He remembered how Orienta had said she passed right through other illusion people, after being deleted herself; maybe stationary objects were different.
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