“There's a gargoyle in the city,” he said, dazed.
“This is the year minus one thousand,” she said. “This is before known human history. This is the last remnant of a twelve-hundred-year prehistoric human colony.”
That got his attention. “The dawn of time? The unknown period of Xanth?”
“Exactly. When the stage was set for what we thought was the settlement of Xanth—the First Wave of human colonization. Which won't occur for another thousand years, but hey, who's counting? This is when it was all made possible.”
“But there can't have been history before the dawn of history!” he protested.
“There was fantastic history. It merely was lost to later knowledge. Now we can discover it all.”
“From an illusion replica? We are merely imagining it.”
“I don't think so, Gary. If Iris knows illusion, I know reality, being a creature who is seldom bound by it. This city is not drawn from imagination, it is drawn from reality. It existed, and what we are experiencing now is how it was. We must learn all we can about it, because when we return to our own time, we will be the only ones who can tell this story.”
“We aren't here to learn lost history,” Gary protested. “We are here to find the philter.”
“That, too,” she agreed. “But there's one other thing one of those illusions let slip. Did you hear how Surprise can invoke a particular variant of magic only once?”
“Yes, I wondered about that,” he agreed. “Can it be true? If so, we need have no concern about bringing her under control; she will soon enough have no magic requiring control.”
“That may require some time, because it seems that she doesn't lose whole disciplines of magic, merely the spot variants. She has conjured many things, though we have seen her conjure no one thing twice. Still, it will definitely limit her. What I wonder is how can it be mere illusions who tell us this? If they're not real, they should not know anything. If they're animations of the distant past, they shouldn't know about the present. Yet I have the feeling that they do know, and that this is what limits Surprise.
But I don't know whether to discuss it with her mother.”
“You don't mean Rapunzel? She's not in this scene.”
“Queen Iri.” Mentia paused, then knocked her head with the heel of her hand, and some dottle flew out her opposite ear. “I mean Iris. I'm getting into the part despite myself.
I was thinking that a mother would not want to hear about such a liability in her child. But I suppose Iris can handle it.”
“But we don't know that it's true. We should find out.”
“Yes.” Mentia hovered in place for a stretched-out moment, evidently ill at ease. “But I'm her governess. I don't want to break the poor child's heart by establishing such a thing.”
“You want me to do it?” Gary asked, disturbed for no good reason.
“You're her tutor. It's your job to teach her things.”
He realized that in the framework of this episode, that was true. It was his job to educate the child. In fact it was true in the present, too, because he had agreed to be her tutor. He had not done a very good job of it so far. “Then I had better do it,” he agreed.
“Great! Go to their room and do it.” Mentia faded out, clearly relieved even when her image was fuzzy.
Gary gathered up his gumption and stepped out of the room. He walked down the hall to the Queen & Princess suite. He knocked on the door.
After a moment Iris opened it. She too had changed clothing, and was in a gown that revealed about as much of her upper torso as when she had tried to tempt him. He found the flesh more interesting now than he had before.
“Yes, Gar the Good,” she said, smiling.
“I come on serious business,” he said. “I fear that Surprise can invoke particular magic only once.”
“That's what the local folk claim,” she agreed. “We had better verify it, though.” She opened the door wider to admit him. “I'm not sure how she will react.”
Gary realized that a severely disappointed or disturbed child could evoke wild magic indeed, if she tried to deny such a limitation. He needed to find a circumspect way to address the matter.
Surprise was sleeping. She was on a princess-sized bed and looking angelic. Gary felt guilty for what he was about to do. But it did have to be done.
He didn't want to wake her, but he suspected that her sleep was lighter than it seemed. So he addressed the bed:
“So can you repeat magic?” he inquired conversationally.
An eye opened in the footboard and stared at him. Then it formed into a mouth. “Can't you see the Princess is sleeping?” the mouth asked irritably.
Gary glanced at Iris, who shook her head No. It wasn't her illusion. “I shall be happy to talk to you instead. Eyesore,” he said. “All I want to know is whether what the foolish illusion maiden said is true. All you have to do to put her in her place is re-form your eye.”
The mouth became an ear. “Eh?” the ear said. “I'm hardwood of hearing.”
“Form the eye again.”
The ear shifted into the eye, which gazed placidly at him. Then it pursed its lids into a kind of mouth. “Like this, you mean,” it observed.
Gary exchanged half a glance with Iris. “That's very good,” he said. But it occurred to him that any magic had a certain duration, and this might be part of a single magic series rather than a repetition. “Can you erase yourself entirely, then reappear?”
The eye blinked out. Nothing remained but the polished grain of the wood. Then the eye reappeared.
“Well, that does look like a repetition to me,” Gary said with mixed feelings.
“Ixnay,” Iris murmured. “That's illusion.”
And she knew illusion when she saw it. Different magic. “I mean a real eye,” Gary said.
The illusion eye vanished. There was a pause. Then the grain of the wood curled into the shape of an eye.
“That is not the same,” Gary said.
The air stirred by the footboard. Fog appeared, twisting into the shape of an eye.
“Not the same,” Gary repeated. A heavy certainty was infusing him. She was demonstrating a remarkable variety of similar effects, but once a particular magic was abolished, it was not reappearing.
The fog dissipated in demonly fashion. Then an eyeball popped into existence. In a moment it was clothed by upper and lower eyelids.
“Not the same,” Gary said once more. “I am very much afraid we have our answer.”
Surprise burst into tears. The tears flew out in an expanding sphere, soaking everything in the room including Gary and Iris. They were hot and salty.
Iris went to the bed to comfort the child. “I'm so sorry, dear. But we had to know.”
“You must conserve your magic,” Gary said. “To save it for when you really need it. You have enough to last you for a lifetime, if you are careful. Just don't waste it.”
Surprise looked miserable. For the first time she understood her limit. She had just matured enormously, but by the most painful route.
He turned and left the chamber, depressed. He had done his job as tutor. He had broken the heart of a child.
Mentia reappeared as he entered his own suite. “She will be no problem when she returns home,” she said. “She will no longer use magic wildly.”
“I might as well have beaten her.”
“You might as well have,” Mentia agreed. Her eyes were reddening. “I'm sorry I asked you to do that.”
“It had to be done.” But now his own vision was blurring.
“Demons don't cry,” she remarked, apropos of nothing.
“Neither do gargoyles.”
Then they were standing together, holding each other, crying. What else was there to do?
Later, Hanna returned. She had changed her dress and was resplendent in a full evening gown that destroyed any remaining vestige of militarism she might ever have had.
“Dinner is served,” she said.
br /> Gary gaped at her. He was beginning to appreciate the appeal of human females. The way her unbound hair spread out like a little cloak, and curled around the architecture of her shoulders and chest, and the way the very act of breathing caused her contours to shift configuration—
“Am I uncomfortable to perceive?” Hanna inquired after a moment.
“By no means,” Gary said hastily. “I was merely surprised by the change.”
“Perhaps I will change again for you later,” she murmured. Then she turned and walked from the room, in the process demonstrating the manner in which her hindside contours shifted also. That was another type of thing he had not noticed in any woman before. Their forms were actually more intriguing than he would have credited, when closely inspected.
She paused, half turning in a graceful manner. “Are you coming. Lord Gar?”
Bemused, he followed. He had never suspected that Hannah Barbarian had any such aspect. Human beings were constantly surprising him, and interesting him increasingly.
The others joined him in the hall. Iris and Surprise were subdued but stable, in well-fitted queenly and princessly robes, and Mentia was demurely but quite attractively garbed. Gary was aware that as a demoness she could assume any form she wished, but she had a role to play and she was playing it perfectly. She was the child's governess, so was quite prim and proper, yet by no means devoid of aesthetic appeal. In simpler terms, she looked great, for a human, which she of course was not. Hiatus was now in a tailored suit whose upturned collar and descending tails looked elegant; he was suddenly a broodingly handsome man.
The banquet hall had been decorated for the occasion.
Ornate carpets carpeted the walls, and plush rugs were rugged on the floor. An enormous table was in the center, garlanded with blue and green roses, with places set for five.
“Oh, but I must not be at the table,” modest Menti protested.
“Nonsense,” Iris said. “You must make sure the Princess behaves. Do you think I wish to bother doing it myself?”
Also, Gary realized, it was best to keep their small party close together. Maybe the illusion folk were their friends, but maybe they weren't. Mentia, the most sensible and responsible person among them, needed to be kept close. Iris had evidently not forgotten that this was madness, and what seemed pleasant could become otherwise in a hurry.
The five of them sat around a giant oval table, while Desi and Hanna served them with a series of fancy courses. There was white whine in elegant goblets fashioned in the shape of the heads of little goblins. There was head and tail lettuce. There was pumpernickel bread in the form of shoes and coins, with butterflies waiting to spread themselves on it. There were purple stakes cut from the juiciest portions of the stakeout trees. And quickly at the end there was hasty pudding.
When the illusion maidens were out of the room, Gary grabbed the chance to talk to Iris. “What are we really eating?” he asked.
“Stale squash pie and hard water,” she replied with a grimace.
He had suspected as much. He preferred the illusion.
After the meal the maidens cleared the table. “Do you wish your usual entertainment?” Hanna inquired.
“By all means,” Hiatus said before the others could work up a sufficient degree of caution.
Hanna and Desi jumped up onto the table and began dancing. First one took the stage, as it were, and then the other. Their feet were bare, and their skirts flared as they turned, showing their delicate but healthy lower legs. In fact when they spun more rapidly, some of their upper legs showed also. Gary found the sight increasingly intriguing.
The angle of view was such that it should soon be possible to see their—
“Enough of this nonsense,” Iris snapped. “Is there nothing better to be seen?”
“Yes, as the dance progresses,” Desi said, pausing.
“When we remove our costumes, piece by piece.”
“That isn't what I mean,” Iris said with increasing ire. “I'm sure no one cares about costumes.”
“Speak for yourself. Queen Iris,” Hiatus said. “I find the view delightful, and shall be happy to see the rest of it. Yea, even to their wicked panties.”
There was a faint flush in the air after his utterance of the provocative word. The child's eyes grew large.
Iris glanced angrily around at the others. “Who else wants to witness this sorry spectacle?”
Surprise clapped her little hands gleefully. “I do!” She seemed just about ready to scramble onto the table herself.
“But that would not be princessly,” Mentia cautioned her.
“Oh pooh! Why do I have to be princessly? I want to dance and throw my clothes away and show my—”
“Princess!” Menti said sharply.
Supi realized that she had gone too far. She subsided.
“Who else?” Iris asked grimly.
Gary would have liked to see the rest of the dance, because he was coming to appreciate the pleasures of the human form. But he realized that if he voted to see the dance, that would make a majority, and he did not want to embarrass Iris. So he practiced his diplomacy. “What are the alternatives?”
The two maidens considered. “Why, we could tell a story,” Desi said. “But usually the menfolk have preferred to see us dance, and then—”
“Never mind what then!” Iris snapped. “What kind of story?”
“We have numerous tales of dragons and damsels,’ Hanna said. “Of course those usually end sadly.”
“What about history?” Mentia asked.
“History?” Both maidens looked perplexed.
“The story of humankind in Xanth leading up to this point,” Iris said.
Suddenly Gary saw her purpose. They were here to locate the philter, and to do that they needed to understand the history of this ancient city. They were getting distracted into entertainment instead. It was time to orient on their quest. “Yes, the story of the city of Hinge,” he said.
“But that's so dull!” Hanna protested.
“Dancing and dragons are much more interesting,” Desi said.
“Yes!” Surprise agreed eagerly.
“History,” Iris said firmly.
“Pictures!” Surprise said.
“Animate it,” Mentia suggested. “From the beginning, in summary, skipping the dull parts.”
“From the Demon Xanth on,” Gary agreed.
The two maidens shrugged together. Then a picture formed around them, occupying the center of the table. It was of a desolate peninsula. “Way back in the time of minus four thousand years, give or take ten thousand or so, before the Xanth chronology proper commenced, the Demon X(A/N)th arrived in this dreary and isolated place,”
Hanna's voice said from somewhere within the scene. “He settled into the rock beneath and lost himself in contemplation. His thoughts percolated through the caverns and made them very strange.” The picture showed a huge demon seated on a boulder deep underground, his head propped on one hand, surrounded by wiggling snakelike thoughts.
“He was oblivious to his surroundings,” Desi's voice said. “He did not move for thousands of years. But there was a fringe effect: his magic slowly spread outward from his body, suffusing the rock, causing the denizens of that region to become magical. Nickelpedes, voles, and rock dragons developed. Then the magic rock welled upward and reached the surface.” The scene showed a volcano spewing out hot stone. “Then the creatures and plants of the surface became magical.” There were sea serpents in the water and tangle trees on land.
“Around the year minus twenty-two hundred a colony of human folk arrived from what was later to be called Mundania,” Hanna's voice resumed. The picture showed a ragged group of men and woman with their clinging children. “They lacked magic, so had a hard time at first.” In the picture a serpent slithered out of a lake, encountered a man, stared him in the eye until the petrifaction spell took hold, breathed slimy vapor on him, then swallowed him whole. “But their children delivered in
Xanth arrived with magic talents, and that helped.” A huge serpent lifted its head to stare down a child, but the little boy made his head swell until it was far too large for the serpent to swallow, and the reptile had to give up in disgust.
“So for several hundred years human folk migrated to the magic land, preferring it once they learned how to survive in it,” Desi's voice said. “They moved to the area of greatest magic, now known as the Region of Madness, and their descendants became very talented magically. Indeed, there were a number of full Magicians and Sorceresses.
Not all of these were nice people; one known as the Sea Hag was finally banished from human society, and she disappeared for several millennia. But most remained to contribute to the welfare of the main colony.”
“However,” Hanna's voice said, “this influx was not necessarily peaceful. Life in Xanth, for those who learned to stay clear of dragons and similar creatures, became relatively easy, because food could be conjured or simply plucked from obliging trees.” The picture showed a woman harvesting a fresh cherry pie from a cherry pie tree. “So the folk of Xanth soon became moderately gentle.” The people of the picture relaxed under pleasant trees.
“But the incoming Mundanes were hungry, violent, and often cruel,” Desi said. In the picture tough men with swords drove the relaxing folk away and took over the trees—which they then chopped down. “Of course those with magic could stop them, but often they preferred to retreat rather than fight. So they went to the hinterlands, driven away by their barbarian neighbors.”
“Such as my ancestors,” Hanna's voice said disapprovingly. “Then Xanth became an island.” The picture showed the sea extending an arm across the top to cut it off. “We aren't sure whether the Demon X(A/N)th arranged it so as to have more privacy, or whether it was coincidence. That cut off the inflow of pure humans and other Mundane creatures. Peace was restored.”
However, it turned out the folk of Xanth were concerned that it might not always remain an island, and when it returned to peninsula status there would be more brutal invasions, worse because of the longer period without danger. They felt it would be foolish simply to ignore the matter and hope for the best; their children or grandchildren might pay a hideous price. It might happen even if Xanth remained an island forever, because Mundanes might use boats to cross to it. So they gathered together and pondered ways to protect themselves from invasion.