Skeleton Key

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by Piers Anthony


  This threatened to be even more of a challenge. “Persuade him to take a girlfriend when he’s not even really a boy, and not gay?”

  Santo smiled. “Noe persuaded me. Surely you can rise to the occasion.”

  And Aunt Fornax, hidden in Laurelai’s mind, would be watching. A challenge indeed! “I will try,” she promised bravely.

  “I am sure you will. Larry will know that Fornax is there, but neither of you will ever speak of it thereafter. Not until the mission has been completed.”

  “Got it,” she agreed.

  “Now it is time to return to the boat. You will want to talk with Jess.”

  “I will,” she agreed, remembering.

  Santo walked to a rock by the side of the glade. He rolled it to one side. There, behind it, was the open mouth of a tunnel. “After you, important person.”

  “So that’s how you got here unobserved,” she exclaimed. “You made a tunnel.”

  “It’s what I do,” he agreed.

  It was indeed. That was his magic talent, tunneling; only it wasn’t limited to small or local tunnels. He could also tunnel between worlds. Maybe between galaxies. That was why he was a Magician.

  “Thank you.” She got on her hands and knees and crawled through the tunnel, not caring if he saw her nonexistent panties. Apart from being a sibling, why would he care?

  The passage was only a few feet deep. Then they emerged at the edge of another glade. But this one was in a completely different terrain. The tunnel had seemed short, but had actually covered a fair trek. All part of Santo’s magic.

  When they were out, Santo turned and snapped his fingers. The tunnel disappeared. He was through with it.

  Ahead of them was Fibot, the Fire Boat they lived on. It looked like a beached rowboat, with a small mast for a sail, but that was deceptive. They walked to it, climbed over the gunwale, and stood on the small deck between the oars.

  There stood a small robot dogfish and a small black bird. The robot’s face screen flashed. “Welcome back, kids,” the bird translated. “What are you up to?”

  “That is private, Peeve,” Santo said. “That’s why we discussed it away from the boat.”

  The screen flashed again. “Tata is annoyed,” the peeve said.

  “We will share when we can,” Santo said.

  “We love secrets,” the peeve said. “But not from us.”

  “We don’t mean to tease you,” Squid said. “It’s just that something came up unexpectedly, and we have to deal with it.”

  The dogfish’s screen showed a star going nova. He remained annoyed.

  They walked on to the hatch in the center and climbed down into it, using the handholds.

  And they were in the yacht. It was enormously larger than the rowboat, and far more modern. All part of the magic.

  “Ah, there you are, back from your walk in the wood.” It was Nia, physically twenty-two years old, dark brown hair, gray eyes, so lovely she could make a passing man walk into a tree-trunk without realizing. Mentally she was sixty-two, having been severely youthened by an encounter with a youth spring, but they regarded that as private information. “You missed dinner, but I saved some for you.”

  “Thank you,” Santo said. “We appreciate it.”

  “You’re up to something,” Nia said perceptively. Sometimes her true age peeked through; she was far more knowledgeable than her appearance suggested.

  “I have a private mission,” Squid said. “Santo filled me in on it.”

  Nia glanced sharply at her. “You’ve changed. You look the same, but you’re different. What is it?”

  Squid looked at Santo, uncertain what to say.

  “There’s a new story beginning,” Santo said. “She’s the protagonist.”

  “But please, it’s private,” Squid said quickly.

  “As you wish,” Nia agreed. “I’m not one to pry. Not openly, anyway.”

  They laughed. “Thank you,” Squid said. Nia was highly observant, and her talent was to animate a pair of phantom eyes that floated anywhere she wished and observe things. Indeed, she did not need to do it openly.

  “Oh,” Nia added. “Jess and Magnus boarded while you two were out. We’ll take them to their next gig. It’s routine. Just so you know.”

  As Santo had known. “I want to talk to Jess,” Squid said.

  “I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you again.”

  The two ate quickly, then walked down the hall to the Jess and Magnus suite. Squid knocked.

  Jess answered. She was not an impressive woman at first glance. She had dirt brown hair, dull green eyes, and a dull figure. But Squid knew her, and saw a fine person. “Hello, Squid!” Jess greeted her. “It’s so nice to see you!”

  It came across like a joke, but Squid knew better. It was Jess’s curse that nobody took her seriously. To get around it, Magnus had finally renamed himself Nobody. That had worked wonderfully; they were believed to have a marvelous love life. Not that Nia would ever be so crass as to mention what her phantom eyes had seen. But she hadn’t denied it when questioned.

  “And you mean it,” Squid said.

  “Of course I do! You know that. That’s one reason I like you and the siblings. You have learned to take me seriously.”

  “Yes,” Squid agreed. “I—I think I need your advice.”

  “Oh, are you planning to become an entertainer? Do come in and talk.”

  “Uh, not exactly,” Squid said awkwardly as they entered and Santo faded discreetly into the background, as he often did. It was almost a secondary talent.

  Jess merely waited for her to continue.

  “You—you were the protagonist for the last story, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, undeserving as I was. It was quite an experience.”

  “I—I understand I am to be the protagonist of the next story.”

  Jess laughed, then quickly sobered. “Now I’m doing it; not taking you seriously. I apologize.” But she glanced at Santo, who nodded from within his seclusion, confirming what Squid said. Jess and Santo had a special mutual respect for each other. “And you have no idea how to proceed.”

  “Yes!” Squid agreed. “I mean, maybe there’s been a mistake, and I’ll mess it up. If it’s true. It’s so confusing.”

  “I know exactly how that is,” Jess said. “But now I understand it better. First, you have to realize that being the main character of a story does not necessarily mean you’re important, or that you have to do anything special. You’re just an observer, centrally placed so that those who read or hear the story later know what’s going on. The viewpoint character. You’re like a little recording camera. You can just go about your business as usual and it will work out. Many protagonists don’t even know they’re protagonists. So it must be simple, if they can do it without knowing. You can surely do it too.”

  “But, but what if I am important? A boy told me I was the most important person in the universe. I know that’s ridiculous, but suppose any part of it is true?”

  Jess glanced again at Santo, who nodded again. “It just might be true. Stranger things have happened. That suggests that more is going on than we know.”

  “I guess. But how do I handle it?”

  “That’s easy. You just ignore it. You must be the person who is fated to be in the midst of significant events, and as long as you see them happen, you have no further responsibility. You’re the most important person in this story, pretty much by definition, because without you there wouldn’t be a story, but you’re still just an observer. Relax and enjoy it.”

  “As men tell the girl who’s about to be raped?” Squid asked pointedly.

  Jess looked sharply at her. “How old are you?”

  “Eleven. But the Adult Conspiracy doesn’t address me perfectly, because I’m an alien animal.”

  “Squid!” Jes
s said, shocked. “You’re a person! Never forget that.”

  “And the boy called me the most important person in the universe.”

  Jess sighed. “I suppose I walked into that one. But important or not, being the protagonist is not rape. It’s just a position.” She paused, wincing. “Let me rephrase that. It’s just an outlook. All you have to do is observe, and that’s the gist of it. You’re probably best off simply putting it out of your mind. What will happen, will happen, regardless; it’s not your responsibility to make it happen, just to watch as it goes by. Everything else is automatic, as the confusing events and thoughts somehow get organized into a coherent narrative. And in due course it will pass, and someone else will be the main character for the next story, and you’ll be an anonymous has-been, as I am.”

  “I hope it’s soon,” Squid said fervently. “But thank you, Jess; your advice does help. I will try to watch things go by without feeling responsible.”

  Jess nodded. “There’s something else. The protagonist normally winds up happy, no matter how scary it seems before the end of the story. With fame, or glory, or merely a nice boyfriend.” She glanced at the bedroom where Magnus must be sleeping. “Something good. So at least you know you’ll survive and prosper. That’s a nice guarantee that few other folk have.”

  “Who would want to be my boyfriend, except another cuttlefish? And I don’t think I’d want one of those. I’ve been here too long.”

  “There will be something. Believe it,” Jess said earnestly. “I fell in love with Magnus, but thought he could never love me back, even if he wanted to. Because of my curse. But he found a way. You’re a good girl, regardless of your origin or anatomy. There will be someone for you.”

  “Like maybe a boy who is really a girl and has to fake it,” Squid said sourly.

  Jess glanced a third time at Santo, who nodded again. “Oh Squid, I’m sorry. I think you have a hard course ahead. But I do believe it will all work out for you in the end, as it did for me. You just have to persevere.”

  “As if I had a choice,” Squid said with resignation.

  “I’m sorry,” Jess said. “I’m just trying to help.” There was actually a tear of sympathy in her eye.

  But Squid was fed up. “Don’t bother.”

  “Squid,” Santo said. “Remember when I dissed Noe and you chided me?”

  Squid remembered, and realized that she had just done the same to Jess, for no better reason. She was abruptly overwhelmed. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jess! I’m sorry.” She dissolved into tears.

  Then Jess was holding her comfortingly. “It’s all right, Squid. I understand. You’re under a lot of pressure. It’s all right.”

  Squid glanced blurrily at Santo. “Is it?”

  “Yes,” he said with an eighth of a smile. “But don’t do it again.”

  Then they all had to laugh, albeit more from awkwardness than humor.

  “Who decides who is the protagonist, anyway?” Squid asked. “The Muse of History?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Jess said. “I understand that she was once a protagonist herself, and she didn’t choose it. No, it seems to be some anonymous figure who has the mysterious power to do it.”

  “If I could believe that, I’d have no trouble believing that we are all just figments of some fool’s sick imagination.”

  “Me too,” Jess agreed.

  They hugged again and parted. Squid did feel better, if only because it was clear that Jess had not only made it safely through her own protagonism, but that she sympathized.

  Then it was time to intercept Larry. “I have made a tunnel,” Santo said. “To the enchanted-path rest stop nearest the Good Magician’s castle where Larry will soon arrive. Are you ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be,” Squid said.

  “You will have to acquaint him with the situation, and persuade him to accept you as his girlfriend. I will be there to help, but you are the central figure. More important, you must persuade Laurelai to agree to host Fornax.”

  “I have to do that? I thought she was already there.”

  “We know she has to be there, but this will be news to Larry.”

  Squid sighed. “Already, this is more of a challenge than I like.”

  “I have a forget spell. You must persuade him; then once it is done, he must forget she is there. The siblings can be trusted to keep the secret, but Larry might otherwise let it slip. But it does have to be voluntary on his part.”

  “Worse and worse.”

  “Squid,” he said seriously. “I believe that one reason you were chosen for this role is that you are at least somewhat objective, because of your alien nature. We believe you can handle it. Don’t disappoint us.”

  “We? You and who else?”

  “Me and Fornax.”

  She knew he wasn’t fooling, because Fornax was in effect Squid’s aunt and Santo’s mother. They were expecting a lot of a minor person. “Oh, blip! All I can promise is to try.”

  He smiled. “That should be enough. Make yourself pretty.”

  To impress Larry, she realized. Because boys of any age were always more amenable to pretty girls of any age, even children, foolish as that was. It was so obvious a ploy that no sensible person would fall for it. Except a boy. A girl did not need to be smart, just pretty. She shaped her features to be fine and even, and formed her simulated hair to be verging on lustrous. Now it was no longer dull brown, but glossy brown.

  Then the mouth of the tunnel opened and they stepped through to the rest stop. This was a pleasant enclosure beside a placid pond, with milkweeds and pie plants, and a modest wood shelter. It wasn’t fancy, but it sufficed for travelers on their way to the Good Magician’s Castle. It was enchanted like the path, so that there were no dangers to travelers, and folk could relax and sleep in peace.

  There was motion on the nearby path. Someone was approaching. “You’re on,” Santo said, fading back.

  “On the spot,” Squid agreed, with resignation. Suppose she blew it? Would there be major consequences for the universe? She tried to suppress the thought, with incomplete success.

  The figure came to the entrance to the rest stop and paused. He was an unimpressive, nondescript boy with blue-black hair and eyes.

  Squid stepped forward. “Hello,” she called. “Are you stopping here?”

  “I hope to, if it’s not already taken.”

  “Official rest stops are never taken, only shared. I won’t be staying.” She smiled, showing dimples and even white teeth. She had her girl form down pat. “Hello; I’m Squid, age eleven, with the ability to change the appearance of my clothing.” She made her seeming dress turn green, then red, then back to brown. It was the standard pattern of introduction: name, age, talent. She had not called it a talent, as it was not magic, merely part of the nature of a cuttlefish, but he was free to assume it was magic. That kind of thing enabled her to get along without actually lying.

  “I am Larry, age twelve. My talent is to change my apparent physical age, though not my mental age.” He demonstrated by becoming two years younger, then two years older. His clothing did not change with him, so it fit awkwardly during the alterations.

  So far, so good. “I am traveling with my sibling, Santo,” Squid said, indicating Santo, who stepped out of the shadow. “He’s thirteen, and makes holes.” Santo demonstrated by making a small hole through the trunk of a nearby tree, as if someone had driven a spike through it. This, too, was an evasion; strangers tended to assume that that was the extent of his talent. Then the hole faded, leaving the tree intact. “We stopped by here to meet you.”

  “Meet me?” Larry asked. “Why? I’m nobody special.”

  “Ah, but you must be,” Squid said. “You’re on your way to see the Good Magician, aren’t you? Because that’s where this path leads. That means you’re special in some way.”

  “Maybe,”
Larry agreed guardedly. “But not in any way that should concern a pretty girl like you.”

  She straightened up as if surprised. “You think I’m pretty?”

  “Look in the water.”

  She walked to the edge of the pond and peered in. And was amazed. She wasn’t just pretty, she was beautiful! Her hair was a glorious tiara flowing around her face and framing her shoulders. Her face was fair in a manner she had never before achieved. And her body was seductively shapely for her age, with legs even a grown woman would envy. She had succeeded far beyond her expectation. “Wow! I didn’t realize.” But as she spoke, she realized that Santo hadn’t been fooling about the enhancement of her ability to modify her appearance. It had expanded by a magnitude.

  “The bleep you didn’t. A girl always knows. What do you want with me?”

  “First let’s get to know each other better. Then we can get down to business.”

  “Why?” he demanded. “You’re about to move on and we’ll probably never see each other again. There’s no sense in getting to know each other better. We’re not about to be friends or associates. Just tell me what you want of me, we’ll settle it one way or another, and go our separate ways.”

  “I don’t think so. Sit down, and we’ll talk.” She sat on the green turf, aware that her lifted knees showed an unconscionable amount of her thighs under her simulated skirt almost to her mock panties. He would pretend not to notice, of course, but he would sit too so he could look without seeming to. As a boy he couldn’t help it. Squid and her sisters had verified that many times, teasing boys while pretending innocence. It was practice for when they would become women with potent panties.

  Larry sat, but he didn’t bother to look. That reminded her that he was actually a girl. “Why don’t you think so? I’ve been walking all day, I’m tired, and I want to eat, clean up, and sleep the night so I’m refreshed for the Challenges of the Good Magician’s Castle. So please make it quick and dirty.”

  She smiled, knowing that the expression now had much more force than it had before her enhancement. “Tell me why you want to see the Good Magician.”

 

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