Gloha was both chagrined and intrigued. It did seem that Crombie's talent was working, because the man wasn't even looking and couldn't have known exactly where Trent had moved. But how could ancient aged old King Emeritus Trent help her? There had to be some confusion.
She had asked directions four times: for Humfrey's second son, for her ideal man, and for something to help her, twice. Crombie had been unable to point for the first, but had seemed pretty sure about the other two. The confusion was more likely to be in the first than in the last. Odd that he had failed there. Did it mean the second son was dead? Then why had Humfrey told her to ask him? Was she supposed to find his ghost? That didn't seem quite reasonable; ghosts seldom answered questions.
Then Gloha suffered another astonishing little intuition. But she would have to verify it, because there was something confusing about it. "I-could I talk to Crombie alone?" she asked timorously.
"Why not?" Jewel said. "We can organize for our party."
The others left the chamber. Gloha emboldened herself enough to take Crombie's weathered and almost crumbling hand. Some of her young little vitality seemed to cross over and mend his old gross senility. "We are alone, Mister Crombie," she said. "I promise not to repeat what you tell me, if you want it that way. Will you tell me why you couldn't tell me where Humfrey's second son is?"
The wrinkled ash-gray head rolled from side to side. The worn lips quivered. "No," he shuddered.
"I have a suspicion," Gloha continued relentlessly. "I think the Good Magician had a reason to send me to his second son, and I think you do know where he is."
"No," Crombie creaked again.
"I think that maybe, just possibly, perhaps you are that second son. That I found my way to you despite not knowing."
He rolled his head some more, but didn't say no again.
"What I don't understand is why you don't want it known. Maybe if you told me, I would understand."
He was still reluctant, but in the face of her accurate little assessment he managed to recover enough to tell her the story. He was the son of Humfrey and the Mundane woman Sofia, whom Humfrey had married because she was the finest living sock sorter. Humfrey had had a son with his first wife, the Demoness Dara, and a daughter with his third wife, Rose of Roogna. But Humfrey had been more interested in his work than in his family, and more interested in training Magician-level children like Trent and Iris than in his own child. So Crombie had been pretty well ignored and alienated.
"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that!" Gloha said with more than a slight little surge of sympathy. "No wonder you weren't happy. But still I don't understand why you don't want to be known as his son."
So Crombie told her about his experience with the Demoness Metria: how he had met her when looking for a better mother, and how she had helped him fight off the spooks of the night bedroom, and stayed with him until he turned thirteen and became aware of the female of the species. Then she dissolved into smoke and drifted away. He realized that she had stayed with him only in order to get into Humfrey's castle and spy out his secrets. He had looked for a girlfriend, and thought he found one, but when he wanted to see her panties she had puffed into smoke and he realized that the demoness was having more fun with him. He knew it was Metria, because she had a thing with words: she seldom could remember precisely the right one, and had to hunt through her vocabulary for it. That made her unique among demons, and always gave her away. But more important, she was female, and her mischief was always of a female nature. So he had sworn off women forever.
"I can see why," Gloha said. "She shouldn't have teased you like that. Everyone knows that all any man wants of a young woman is to see her panties. That's how Mela Merwoman nabbed Prince Naldo Naga, and she wasn't even very young. That's how I'll nab my ideal man, if I ever find him. But why did that make you not want to be known as Humfrey's son?"
So he told her how he had grown up and left home and gone out on his own, becoming a soldier. He had been supremely embittered by the disinterest of his father, and of course his mother was a woman, so there was nothing there for him. Later he had discovered a nice nymph, and she was all right, because nymphs weren't women, they were innocent creatures. So he had married her, and been satisfied, though she had loved someone else.
Gloha got a giddy little glimmer of something that surely was none of her business. "Whom else did she love?"
"Bink. He drank love elixir without realizing it, and saw her, and loved her though he was already married. In time she came to love him back, but by then his love had been nulled by the Time of No Magic. So she was left hurting. But I liked her, and I brought her a love potion, and then she loved me too. Of course it still took a while for her other love for him to fade, if it ever did, because it was natural."
That explained Bink's odd attitude toward Jewel. He had once loved her, and she had once loved him. That was the sad memory of what might have been between them. How romantic!
"Didn't it bother you that her love for him was natural, while her love for you was magic?"
"No, I knew the situation. All I asked of her was that she be a good wife to me, and that she was."
So Crombie had made his own life, and that was all right. Fortunately his daughter Tandy was half nymph, so he could stand her. But he never saw reason to let his connection to the Good Magician be known. Humfrey had never given any indication of caring, after all.
Gloha got an intriguing little insight of another intuition. "But suppose Humfrey did show he cared about you?" she asked. "I mean, everyone knows that he'd rather grump than breathe, and would never admit to any human passion, but just suppose he let slip a hint that he remembered you and wanted to know how you were doing? Would that make it all right for you to be known as his second son?"
Crombie thought about it, and seemed to be trying to fight off the notion, but its allure was too much for his frail old resistance, and he finally had to admit that that might make it barely all right. But he knew that Humfrey would never let slip anything like that, so it didn't matter. Now he would fade out in peace with his friends, and all would be forgotten.
"But you said Trent and Iris were the ones who took your father's attention from you," Gloha said. "Why should you be friends with them?"
"They didn't know how it was," Crombie said, his voice growing stronger. "They think there was some other reason, such as the demoness. So they let it be, and haven't told anyone. And indeed, I worked for them for years, when Trent was king, and he was a good employer. No fault in him. So now I don't want to embarrass them by having it known."
"And your daughter Tandy doesn't know?"
"She doesn't know. Neither does Jewel. So let's leave it that way. After the fade-out party it won't matter."
"Well, that party may have to be postponed."
The decrepit figure developed some semblance of animation. "Postponed! I can't make it beyond the day!"
"But you pointed to Trent as the one to help me find my ideal man. So he'll have to help me look. So he won't be able to join your party now. Wouldn't you rather wait until he can?"
"You are making typically female mischief!" he exclaimed, his insecurely fastened bones rattling with the effort.
"Well, that's my nature," she said with a golden little grin. "I think Humfrey misses you, and wants to be recognized as your father, but can't do it if you don't agree. He can't even admit that he wants it, for fear of your rejection. So he sent me to see you, hoping I'd jog something loose. I'll bet that if you gave even one nod of agreement, he'd be here to make amends."
"Never!" Crombie said with what might well pass for emphasis.
"What, never?"
"Of course never! The Good Magician is incapable of admitting to making any mistake ever in his long life."
Gloha had a tiny little tinge of doubt. So she suppressed it before it could grow. "Well, we can test it. Nod your head." Gloha hoped she was right. It would make halfway sense of half the confusion she had been experiencing.
"I don't have the strength."
"Maybe I can help you sit up." She leaned over him.
"All right! I'll nod! Then will you leave me alone?"
"Of course," she said with sweet little sweetness.
She put her hands on his bony old shoulders and hauled, and he managed to lurch into sit-up position. Then he nodded his head once, and fell back exhausted.
There was a silence. Nothing happened. Gloha realized that she had misfigured it. "Well, I guess you're right," she said. "I'll go away and let you be."
"Thanks," he breathed. He seemed almost disappointed.
She got up and went out of the doorway. Good Magician Humfrey met her there. "Are you through?" he inquired grumpily.
"Yes, I must be," she agreed sadly. She went on by him, letting him go in alone.
Then she paused. Her mouth dropped into an open little O. The others laughed.
"You did it," Trent said, looking even younger than before. The Sorceress of Illusion was overdoing it a bit, making him seem to be in his twenties. He now wore a bright shirt and trousers, with shiny boots and even a bold sword in its sheath. He looked utterly dashing. "I was hoping you would. I think I owe you a favor."
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"Humfrey brought some Fountain of Youth elixir. He'll give some of it to Crombie so he can survive the postponement of the fade-away party, and he gave some to me. So now I am in shape to help you on your quest."
Gloha looked at him again. "You mean-?"
“This isn't illusion any more. This is my physical age. Of course I'll take some more elixir, with reverse wood, to neutralize the effect after this is done. Then we ancients of Xanth can fade out in style."
"Oh!" Gloha said, feeling maidenly faint.
"However," Iris said sharply, in that tone which suggested that there was a formidable caveat coming to the surface, "the rest of us should not be expected to twiddle our tired thumbs while you two enjoy yourselves gallivanting around the country, slaying dragons and such: What are we going to do-play tag with monsters?"
Trent considered for a good three quarters of a moment. "Maybe you could rest in the Brain Coral's pool."
Chameleon laughed, but Jewel was serious. "Why not?" Jewel asked with nymphly innocence.
Iris answered her. "The Brain Coral likes to collect things in its pool, but it doesn't like to let them go. So unless we want to give up our freedom immediately, it is best to remain well clear of it."
"That's not so," Jewel protested. "I have been there many times on my errands, placing gemstones for mortals to find. Sometimes when I've been tired, the Brain Coral has let me rest in its pool, and then released me much refreshed. It honors any deal it makes."
Trent reconsidered. "Perhaps my humor was ill advised maybe we misjudged the Brain Coral anyone does; he could say."
"Did someone speak my name?" the Good Magician asked, appearing in the doorway. Beside him stood Crombie, looking about ten years younger and forty years happier. "My son and I could not help overhearing."
"Your son?" Jewel asked, surprised.
"It's a long story," Crombie said. "What's this about the Brain Coral?"
"Jewel says that the Brain Coral will honor a deal," Bink said. "When I was young I regarded it as an enemy, but that was some time ago."
"The Brain Coral does what it feels proper," Humfrey said. "When you sought to free the Demon X (A/N)th and thereby bring on the Time of No Magic, it fought you, knowing better than you did. But when you are not bent on mortal folly, it is not your enemy."
"So if we made a deal to rest in its pool until Trent returns for our fade-out party, it would let us go at the right time."
"Assuredly," Humfrey agreed. "But it would ask a price for such a service."
Bink turned to the others. "Then maybe we do have something to do while we wait. I understand that a sleep in the Brain Coral's pool is like an instant; you go in and come out immediately, yet centuries may have passed."
"That will do," Iris agreed.
"But you can take time out from that sleep," Jewel said. "You can be conscious if you want to, and talk with other folk there. There are some really interesting creatures in storage, with fascinating histories."
"Then let's go and inquire," Trent said. "See if we can make a deal."
"You go," Jewel said. "I want to learn this long story about who is whose son."
"Gloha and I will go," Trent said. "It's our mission."
The others exchanged a shrug, not objecting. It did seem that the rapprochement between Magician Humfrey and Crombie had excited their greater interest.
"Now just where is the Brain Coral's pool?" Trent asked.
Crombie pointed a direction. It seemed to be downstream, so they went to Swiftmud, who was muddily snoozing on the dark underworld river.
"Sip the water there," Humfrey said. "That will enable you to communicate with it."
They set off through the caves. Now Gloha was able to admire the glowing colors of the walls and ceiling, and the convolutions of stone under the clear surface of the water. This was really a rather pretty place, in its somber way.
They came to a cavern that seemed to be half filled with water. But when Gloha peered down through the water she saw that it was much deeper than she had thought, so that she could not see the bottom. The sides were shallower, and there on slopes and ledges were all manner of things and creatures. All were still; none were swimming or showing signs of life. It was an eerie display.
"This must be the place," Trent said brightly. Gloha had not yet gotten used to his youth and vigor; she would hardly have recognized him if she hadn't known about the youthening. He was a handsome and self-assured man, not at all doddering. Youth elixir was wonderful stuff.
They dipped their hands and brought sips of the water to their mouths. It tasted faintly of medicine.
What do you want of me, King Trent?
"I am about to start a quest with Gloha Goblin-Harpy, and my friends need a place to park for the duration."
What do you offer in exchange?
Trent smiled. "What do you want?"
What is your quest?
"To find my ideal man," Gloha said. Then she had a halfway bright notion. "I don't suppose you have a nice winged goblin male in storage?"
No. I have a winged centaur filly, however.
Gloha shook her head. "I can't marry her."
But perhaps this is our avenue of exchange. I understand that there is now a winged centaur male.
"Che Centaur-Chex's foal," Gloha said. "The only one of his kind. But he's still very young. Just eight years old."
Cynthia is not too much older. It is time for her to emerge and learn the ways of contemporary Xanth. By the time she does, Che may be grown.
"Cynthia," Trent said. "That name seems familiar."
It should, Magician! You transformed her back in 1021.
"I did? I'm not sure I remember. I transformed so many in those wicked days. Was that about the time I transformed Justin Tree?"
About. She came to me, and has been here seventy-two years in suspension. Xanth has changed somewhat in that period. She will need time to adjust, and it will be better if another winged monster assists her, and if she is protected from harm until she is competent.
"I begin to get your gist," Trent said. "You want us to see to that chore, in exchange for parking our friends here."
"Oh, let's do it!" Gloha cried. "I'm sure she's a nice person."
Trent glanced at her obliquely. "It would be better to verify that before making the commitment."
She realized that it was barely possible that his extra seventy-five years or so of experience counted for something. "I suppose," she agreed cautiously.
Then enter the pool and listen to Cynthia's story.
Trent looked at Gloha, and Gloha looked at Trent. This was safe? But if it wasn't, the Good Magician would come to see what had happened. So they shrugged, almost together, and prepared to enter the pool.
/>
But there was a complication. Their clothing. It wouldn't be good to get it soaked, but it also wouldn't be good for the two of them to be unclothed in each other's presence. The Adult Conspiracy had firm things to say about that, even when no children were involved. Trent was a mature male man, and Gloha a fully formed (if petite) approximately human crossbreed woman. It would not be appropriate for him to see her panties.
Don't be silly. Leave your clothing on. Just jump in.
They exchanged another glance and shrug. Then they held their noses and jumped off either side of Swiftmud.
Gloha was afraid she would choke, but she had no trouble. She didn't seem to be breathing, but felt no discomfort. She just slowly sank down into the depth, which no longer seemed unpleasant. She saw Trent descending nearby.
"This is an interesting experience," he remarked without opening his mouth.
"Very," Gloha agreed without opening hers. In addition, her clothing didn't seem to be wet; it neither clung to her nor floated out from her. It remained about the same as it was in the air.
"I think we must be communicating in thoughts rather than sound," Trent remarked. "But our ears think it is sound."
"That sounds right to me," she agreed with a small little smile.
They landed on a pleasant ledge set with pretty shells. There was a winged centaur filly, with brown hair and mane, white wings, and a blouse and jacket covering her human section of torso. That was unusual in a centaur, for that species was normally completely open about bodily appearance and function.
"Cynthia, I presume," Trent said.
"You remember, Magician Trent!" the filly replied.
"It isn't often I transform such a lovely person."
"You haven't changed at all! But I suppose some time has passed above."
"Some has," he agreed. "This is Gloha Goblin-Harpy, who would like to get to know you."
Cynthia looked at Gloha for the first time. "Oh! You're a winged monster too!"
"Yes. And the only one of my kind, perhaps. I would like to know your story, if you care to tell it."
"I'm happy to tell it, if you care to listen. Make yourself comfortable."
They found nice boulders and sat on them. They were so light, down here under the pool, that even the rough stone was comfortable.