Roc and a Hard Place Read online

  She was now floating over the Golf of Meeks Co. She had to watch out for flying golf balls, because this was their natural home. They sailed in from all over, plunking into the water where they chortled as they sank forever out of sight. She couldn’t blame them; it meant that they would never again be clubbed by irons.

  The shoreline, discovering she was leaving it behind, set out to do something about it. She continued to fly in a straight line, but it curved around until it intersected her course. Then the sea made an effort, and pushed back under her, but the land would not be denied, and shoved forcefully across until it was going west, and hung on despite the sea’s best efforts. She had not before realized how competitive these two elements were.

  But by this time she was just about there. She was right at the westernmost fringe of Xanth, about to pass across the fringe of magic. Since she didn’t know what would happen to her if she went beyond the magic, she came down to earth. When human beings left the magic, they lost their magic talents but were otherwise pretty much the same. When partly magical creatures crossed the boundary, they became Mundane creatures, unbearably dull. But demons were wholly magical, and they might simply cease to exist. She preferred not to risk it.

  Yet the token still tugged ahead. She walked right up to the scintillating curtain that separated most of Xanth from Mundania, and stopped. The token tugged one way, and then another. What was going on?

  ‘Buffoon!’ Mentia said. ‘Don’t you remember—the river beyond moves about constantly. It’s very mobile.’

  ‘Mobile,’ Metria agreed, remembering. ‘It’s always in a hurry to be somewhere else. The people who live by it have to keep moving too. But why would Grey be out there?’

  Mentia considered. ‘This is a crazy thing, so perchance I understand it better. I think maybe Grey is not out there. We’re getting a reflection from the magic Interface I helped recompile; it’s stronger than it used to be.’

  There was that crazy claim again, about visiting Xanth’s distant past and saving everything from encroaching madness. But maybe her worser half was right about one detail. Metria turned around and held up the token. Sure enough, now the tugging was stronger, from the east. So she left the crazy moving region behind and proceeded toward whatever Grey Murphy was up to. She was relieved; she could handle a river or place that was mobile, if she had to, but she didn’t want to go any closer to drear Mundania than absolutely necessary.

  The direction steadied. Possibly the mobile terrain beyond had caused ripples in the curtain, so that the reflection moved despite having a still source. Now she was orienting on Grey directly. She floated up and moved faster.

  She came to a sign: YOU ARE NOW APPROACHING PENS COLA.

  ‘What’s Grey doing in a pen?’ Mentia demanded.

  Metria didn’t answer. She spied a fence ahead. Each post was a very large writing pen, of a particular style. One was a feather quill, another a metal-tipped stake, and a third jetted colored water into the air.

  ‘Oh, a fountain pen,’ Mentia said.

  Ropes were strung between the pens to complete the fence. The fence curved slowly into the surrounding forest. On each standing pen was a single printed letter. ‘There’s something familiar about this,’ Mentia muttered.

  ‘I know what it is!’ little Woe Betide cried. ‘I saw letters on a chain. Just walk along and read them.’

  “Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings …” Metria muttered. She walked along, reading the letters. They formed a repeating series: COST OF LIVING ADJUSTMENT.

  Metria couldn’t make much sense from this. She stood and gazed at the fence, wondering whether to fly on over it. Was that what the fence was penning?

  Suddenly the pens uprooted themselves and jumped to new holes beside the old ones. Metria could tell from the direction and curvature that the fence now enclosed a bit more territory than it had before. It had gotten larger. There were old filled-in holes inside the penned region, showing that this had been happening for some time. But who cared?

  ‘I can’t read those big words,’ Woe Betide complained.

  ‘Just use the first letters, dear,’ Mentia suggested. ‘C O L A.’

  ‘The pens spell COLA?’ she asked.

  ‘Pens COLA,’ Mentia agreed. ‘And it seems it keeps expanding.’

  Metria shrugged. ‘Maybe that makes sense to you, because you’re a little crazy, but I’m going to fly on by it now.’ She lifted higher and followed the tug of the token on across the fenced region.

  At last she caught up to Grey Murphy. He was just standing in place, looking puzzled. “What’s up, man from Mundania?” she inquired, shifting to an appropriate outfit for the occasion: very short tight skirt, vaguely translucent very full blouse, voluminously flowing black hair with embedded sparkles, and a complexion so clear that one might almost see one’s reflection in it. There was just something about men of power that intrigued her. He had been betrothed to Princess Ivy ever since he arrived in Xanth, and it seemed that he should have done something about that by now. She doubted that she could actually tempt him, but it was worth a try. A girl just never could tell about a human man. Especially a Magician.

  Grey looked up. “What mischief are you up to this time, Metria?” he inquired.

  “I have something for you,” she said, inhaling.

  He refused to be bluffed. “What is that?”

  She leaned slightly forward, vanishing the top button of her blouse so as to expose more heaving scenery, but he didn’t seem to notice. “A summons.” She proffered the token.

  He took it and turned it over. “I am to be prosecutor at a trial? I don’t know anything about that.”

  “It’s the trial of Roxanne Roc, at the Nameless Castle. I can help you find your way there, if you wish.”

  “No need. What did she do? I thought she was on a mission for the Simurgh.”

  “She is. But the Simurgh wants the trial. It’s a mystery why. So you will have to prostitute.”

  “Have to what?”

  “Indict, arraign, persecute—”

  “Prosecute?”

  “Whatever.” She was ruining the good impression she was trying to make.

  He shrugged. “Who else will be there?”

  “Professor Grossclout. Magician Trent. Sorceress Iris. Princess Ida. A bunch of Jurors. Nobody important.”

  “The Demon Professor Grossclout?” he asked, brightening. “I’ve always wanted to meet him. He’ll be the Judge, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “I’ll consult with him. He’ll know what to do.” He looked around. “But first I have to finish what I’m doing here.”

  “What are you doing, Grey?”

  “I am looking for Re.”

  “Who?”

  “A girl called Re. Humfrey said she would be here, in the region known as Ality, but I can’t seem to find her.”

  “What’s the matter with her?”

  “She got confused, and is in trouble. Humfrey said her talent turned against her. So I’m here to nullify it, to get her out of trouble. My talent is the nullification of magic, so I should be able to handle it. She’ll owe the Good Magician a year’s service, of course. But there just doesn’t seem to be anything here in Ality.” He looked frustrated. “How can I nullify something when I can’t find it?”

  “Maybe I can succor,” Metria said, intrigued.

  “Maybe you can what?”

  “Aid, support, deliverance, assistance, service—”

  “Help?”

  “Whatever,” she agreed crossly. Why did her impediment always get worse when she least wanted it to?

  “Since when do you try to help anyone, Metria?”

  “Since when I got half-souled.”

  He reconsidered. “That does make a difference. Very well: How do you propose to help?”

  “Well, this seems like a slightly crazy situation, so I’ll see if my crazy worser half has any insight.” She turned the body over to Mentia.

  �
��Hello, D. Mentia,” he said. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

  “Fortunately,” Mentia agreed. “Kiss me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m the half without soul or conscience. I demand payment for my services.”

  “Kisses for help?”

  “To start.” She turned slightly so as to give him a better view of her profile. Metria had had the right idea with this outfit, but simply lacked the crazy cunning to exploit it properly.

  “I’d be crazy to agree to a deal like that. Suppose Ivy found out?”

  “That’s what makes it interesting.”

  He pondered a moment. “Okay.”

  She was startled. “You agree?”

  “One one condition. I do the kissing.”

  “Sure. One kiss for each helpful thing I figure out.”

  “Agreed. What have you figured out?”

  “Go away and come back here.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it, handsome. Craziness doesn’t make sense until after the fact. You don’t have to go far. Turn twice when you do it, too.”

  Grey looked baffled, but complied. He turned and walked away. Then he turned again and walked back. “What does this prove?”

  “Have you turned and returned?”

  “Yes.”

  “So if you came to Ality before, now you have come to Re-Ality.”

  He frowned. “I suppose. What’s the point?”

  “You have to re-do things to reach Re. Now that you have reconsidered and re-turned to Re-Ality, you are closer to finding her.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Yes. Pay me.”

  He looked annoyed, but also thoughtful. “Very well. Come here.”

  Mentia stepped close to him and raised her face. But he took her head in his hands, turned it down, and kissed the top of her head.

  “Hey, that’s not what I meant,” she protested.

  “I kissed you. Nobody specified where.”

  “But that’s—”

  “Crazy?”

  Mentia realized that she hadn’t made precisely the deal she thought. Or maybe Grey Murphy was smarter than she thought. She shrugged. That simply made it more of a challenge. “Now, I think that Re has this power of re-doing, and maybe she got mixed up and re-jected herself. So you must search and re-search to find her.”

  “But I have already searched!”

  “Right. Do it again. You have merely re-hearsed it so far.”

  He nodded. He went through the motions of searching, again. “Okay, I have re-searched. I still don’t see her. What now?”

  “Re-pay me.”

  “Oh.” He took her right hand and kissed it. But this time a pair of lips appeared on her hand, and kissed him back.

  “Now look around again,” she said. “Examine and examine again.”

  He looked around twice. “Okay, I have re-examined the region. What now?”

  “Pay—”

  “Not until you produce something more positive.”

  She sighed. He was too canny to make this game really fun. “I think we must be very close to finding her now. Call her—and call again.”

  He nodded. He cupped his mouth with his hands. “Re!” he called. Then again: “Re!” He had re-called her.

  There was a faint sound, almost like a female moan. “Quick, orient twice,” Mentia said.

  Grey focused on the area where the sound seemed to have come from, then re-focused. “I am re-orienting,” he said.

  “Do you feel anything?”

  “Yes, there is something here,” he agreed.

  “Say it again.”

  He said it again: “There is something here.”

  And with that re-statement, a form appeared faintly. “Move her,” Mentia said. “Twice.”

  He put his arms around the shape and moved it. Then he moved it again. The form became firmer.

  “This has to be Re,” he said. And again: “This has to be Re,” he re-peated.

  The form clarified. “Yes!” she breathed. “Help me! Help me!”

  “Now I can use my own magic,” Grey said. “I can nullify her magic.” He put his hand on her head. “Verse. Re-verse.”

  The re-sult was encouraging. Suddenly the complete woman was there. She was re-asonably young and pretty. “Oh, you have saved me!” she cried. “It’s such a re-lief. I’m so re-ally grateful!” She flung her arms about him and kissed him several times on the face before he could re-act.

  “Ahem,” Mentia said. “It seems to be that you let a number of payments go by, and now you’re paying the wrong person.”

  Grey smiled ruefully. “You’re right. You have been very helpful, Mentia.” He disengaged from Re, took Mentia in his arms, and kissed her soundly on the mouth, twice. There was magic in his kisses that nullified her craziness.

  “Wow!” she said, dizzied. “Wow!”

  “Well, you did earn it,” he re-plied. “In your slightly crazy way.”

  “I will re-frain from further demands,” Mentia said, and gave the body back to Metria. She had been teasing him, but his magic had more than nullified her effort, and she needed to re-cover.

  Grey turned back to Re. “What happened to you?”

  “I was trying to re-build my house, and I paused to re-flect,” she re-lated. “Something distracted me, and I accidentally re-pealed myself. The last thing I was able to do was re-lease a plea to the Good Magician to help me; I wasn’t sure he would re-ceive it, but it was too late to re-vise it. Then you came and re-pulsed my own magic that re-mained re-pressing me, and re-juvenated me. Thank you so much, from the re-cesses of my heart! Normally I am more reserved, but—”

  “Well, you know you will have to give the Good Magician a year’s service before this is re-solved,” Grey re-minded her. “He sent me to re-animate you.”

  “Yes, I am re-conciled to that,” she said. “But I feel re-vitalized, and I really do re-spect the Good Magician.”

  “There is a magic path near here that will lead you safely to his re-constructed castle,” Grey said.

  “Thank you.” Re organized herself and set off down the path. She had a long way to go, but her re-cent experience evidently gave her courage.

  Grey turned to Metria. “Now I can go to the Nameless Castle. Where is it?”

  “In the sky. Can you enlist the help of a roc bird to carry you there? You’re too heavy for me to carry, much as I’d like to try.”

  “Yes, there is a roc who owes Humfrey,” he said. He paused. “You know, you—or your worser half—have been so helpful that I no longer re-sent your presence. Your acquisition of a soul does seem to have made you a better creature.”

  Metria found herself blushing, something she never used to do in the old days. “Thank you. But I’m just trying to complete my own service to the Good Magician so I can re-produce.”

  “Oh?” I thought demonesses could do that when they chose to.”

  “Yes. But apparently it’s much harder the second time. So now I need help to get the stork’s re-vision.”

  He didn’t challenge her miscue. “You summoned the stork before?”

  “Yes, about four hundred and forty years ago, give or take a couple, but who’s counting? It was a bad business, I now realize.”

  “There is surely an interesting story there,” he said. “But I’d better call that roc.”

  “’Bye,” she agreed, and popped off.

  She arrived at Castle Roogna. There at the two prominent corners of the roof were Gary Gar and Gayle Goyle, spouting water into the moat. It wasn’t raining, so Metria wasn’t certain where the water was coming from, but it was a nice effect. The moat looked quite clean, which wasn’t surprising, because the gargoyles’ job was to purify the water they spouted.

  ‘I’ll handle this,’ Mentia said. ‘I know them.’ She moved up to take over the body, then addressed the two winged monsters. “Hello, you ugly brutes! Remember me?”

  Both gargoyles swallowed their water so
they could talk. “Demoness Mentia!” Gary cried. “We haven’t seen you in a year.”

  “True. I’ve been with my better half, trying to figure out what her strange new life is all about. But now I have two summonses for you. You are to be Jurors at the trial of Roxanne Roc.”

  “Who?” Gayle asked.

  “A big bird who is hatching something for the Simurgh.”

  “All right,” Gary said. “We’ll be there.”

  Mentia tossed a token up to each of them. They caught them in their mouths. Two more served.

  She went on inside the castle, returning the body to her better self. Princess Ida came to meet her. “How nice to see you, Metria,” she said, in very much the way Rapunzel had. But Ida never said anything she didn’t believe, because she believed what she said.

  Then Metria stared. There was something floating past the Princess’ head. “Ida—there’s a big bug about to land on you!”

  Ida smiled. “That’s not a bug. It’s my moon.”

  “Your what?”

  “Planet, globe, orb, heavenly body, orbiting fragment—”

  “But what are you doing with a little moon?”

  “It just came to me, and it was so cute, I couldn’t tell it to go away. It’s really no harm.”

  Apparently not. It was just a tiny blob that slowly swung around her head. “It does look sort of sweet,” Metria admitted. “Will it grow up to be a big planet someday?”

  “I hope so.” Ida smiled. “What can I do for you?”

  “You can accept this summons to participate in the trial of Roxanne Roc.”

  “Why, of course,” Ida agreed, accepting the token. She was a very agreeable person. “And I see I am to defend her. I shall surely do my best.”

  This was almost too easy. “You’re not worried because you don’t know what you’re defending her from?”

  “I’m sure I will soon find out.”

  Metria decided not to argue. She had too many tokens still to serve to waste time. “And you can find the Nameless Castle?”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  And if she believed it, she probably would, because Ida’s talent was the Idea: Whatever she believed would be, would be. Except that the Idea had to come from someone who didn’t know her talent. That limited it considerably.