Stork Naked

  "The elixir," she agreed.

  "I know the effect is artificial, but that does not dissipate it. I never thought I could be made to feel that way about a straight human woman."

  And not the last one, if she had her way. "One misjudges the potency of the elixir at one's peril." As she herself had.

  "Precisely. Perhaps I was made vulnerable by my knowledge that Cynthia is a transformed centaur, originally human. I love her, and so know I can love a human. But I had thought she was the only one."

  "The other realities show that any two creatures can love each other."

  "Any two?" he asked. "Even a Sphinx and a nickelpede?"

  She smiled at what she knew was a deliberately exaggerated example. "Yes, though that would require an extremely potent accommodation spell. You could and would love any woman you shared the elixir with."

  "Unfortunately yes. But I am sorry that it is Surprise. She is a wonderful person, with a family, in no way deserving of such a complication."

  "You mean you would rather have waded the swamp with me?" She was tempting fate, risking revelation of the larger situation, but couldn't help it; she yearned to do exactly that, turning him on to her as she had been turned on to him. What utter joy she could have of him then!

  He considered. "Yes, actually. You have no marriage to complicate, and no baby to rescue. That would ease half the guilt."

  A wicked notion came to her, surely delivered by a rogue night mare. "I wonder whether if you waded with me, and we then abated it in the normal manner, that would erase your passion for Surprise, leaving you free?"

  "Now that is a truly intriguing thought. But there are two cautions."

  She dreaded his logic, but had to ask. "Two?"

  "First, that as far as I know, love elixir does not erase prior passion. I retain mine for Cynthia. So it would more likely simply add a third passion. Abating that would merely leave me with the prior two, solving nothing. Second, even if it worked, overriding its prior effect, that would not eliminate the passion Surprise has for me. So it would be only half a solution."

  "You are surely correct," she agreed regretfully. "Yet if it should happen to work for you, it should also work for her, and she could wipe out her passion for you with some other male."

  He laughed. "Which would be more complicated than necessary. The two of us could more readily abate it with each other without burdening others. Which is surely a relief to you, even in theory."

  "Surely," she agreed sadly. This also made her realize that getting him into the elixir with her would not be sufficient, and getting him to abate things with Surprise would not be either. He would not be hers regardless as long as he loved Cynthia. Only if Cynthia died would he be free. That was chilling; was that how Demoness Fornax planned to pay off on her promise? Suddenly Pyra wasn't certain she wanted this. Oh, she loved him and wanted him—but death had never been part of her ambition. She hadn't thought it all the way through.

  But what could she do? She had made the deal, and would surely suffer much more grievously if she did anything to interfere with the Demon bet. She had to follow through.

  "I apologize for saddening you with such a discussion," Che said. "I meant no disrespect to you. I hope you find your own man with no such complication."

  And there might be her answer: wade with Che, abate their mutual temporary passion, then arrange to share elixir with some other worthy male. Leave Che to rejoin Cynthia, and Surprise to rejoin Umlaut. She would do it if she could, without ever telling him her real reason.

  Now she felt better. "I hope so too," she said.

  They landed, and the three went to the Golem house. This time Surprise turned out to be married to the twenty-two-year-old Brusque Brassy, who in Xanth One was Becka Dragongirl's man. It was amazing how Surprise circulated in the other realities. So it was another wrong baby.

  This time the children elected to ride again with Che, so Pyra rode Surprise, who remained in winged horse form. Since the girl could not do the same magic twice, she was sparing in its use, and did not readily throw away a useful form. That was sensible of her.

  "You appear to be able to capture any man you want," Pyra remarked as they flew.

  "Unless I took whatever offered," the horse responded. "I am beginning to see that my association with Umlaut was by no means unique. He was just the one I encountered when I was ready."

  "That does seem to be the way of it." Just as Che was what Pyra encountered via the Mask when she was primed by the elixir. Did sheer chance govern supposedly unique relationships?

  "But I do love Umlaut, regardless."

  "And Che Centaur?"

  "Darn that elixir!"

  "I regret being the cause of that."

  "It wasn't your fault. We had to reach you. We thought we could handle it."

  Just as Pyra had thought she could handle a toe-dip. Education came hard. Now she realized that there was a reason Surprise could have any man she chose, and it wasn't merely her magic or her appearance. She was a genuinely nice girl, as Che had pointed out, who treated others with sincerity and compassion. Pyra was coming to respect that, and didn't want to hurt her either. Yet her mission was to see Surprise corrupted, or suffer the wrath of the Demoness. Darn, as Surprise had gently put it, that Demon bet.

  She had to say something, and not the truth. "As you know, I believe you should simply get together with Che and abate the elixir-spawned passion. Then you both will be free to pursue your mission without distraction."

  "We tried, but couldn't get sufficient privacy. I'm not sure it was a good idea anyway."

  "We all get into situations where there seems to be no perfect way out. We do what we have to do." She hoped Surprise would take that as empty reassurance.

  "Nevertheless, we will muddle through as we can. The one thing I really must have is my baby."

  And there would be the instrument of her corruption. Pyra did not know precisely what the demons had set up, but was sure there would be a hefty price. Surprise would be corrupted, or would lose her baby. It was that simple. That brutal. Pyra felt ill.

  This time the geography was slightly different. The Golem house was at the edge of some kind of development. It seemed harmless, so they landed beside it. Pyra took over the children again, and Che, Surprise, and Stymy walked to the house for their key interview.

  "Hey, is that an amusement park?" Ted exclaimed, looking at the development.

  "OoOoo!" little Woe Betide ooOooed.

  "Set up like a comic strip," Monica said. "Let's go!"

  "More fun," the peeve bird said maliciously.

  "No!" Pyra cried. But she was too late; the mischief was already under way. One had to be on top of it before it started, and that was almost impossible with this bunch. All she could do was chase after them, hoping to corral them before things got too bad.

  At the fringe of the suspicious region was a statue of a donkey made from black road paving. Ted leaped up, trying to ride its back, but didn't make it. A fissure opened at the statue's rear under its tail and hot gas hissed out.

  "It's a pun!" Ted said, delighted.

  "A gassy donkey," Monica agreed, her brow furrowing. "I don't get it."

  "Ass Fault," the peeve said.

  Both children fell over laughing. Fortunately the waif Woe just stood there looking blank. The statue faded out, its challenge surmounted.

  "Time to return," Pyra said, making herding motions with her hands. But now they were surrounded by a small field within a circle of trees, where grass grew with quite sharp edges. They couldn't step through it without getting cut.

  "Another pun," Ted said.

  "Cutting grass," Monica said. But the grass did not fade. She had not gotten the right pun.

  "We'll find some other way out," Pyra said. But she wasn't sure where. They were all pretty much caught in place.

  A young woman came to the field. "Who are you?" Ted demanded rudely.

  "I am Chasta," the woman said, smiling at him. She wa
s pretty when she smiled, as many women were.

  Ted fell back, abashed, as he tended to do when faced with something he was not yet quite able to appreciate fully.

  Pyra kept silent, realizing that the appearance of the woman could be a clue to the nature of the pun that would free them.

  "What are you here for?" Monica asked, a trifle less rudely.

  "I need to shave my legs," Chasta said. "So I can freak out my boyfriend."

  "I thought only panties did that," Monica said, eager to learn.

  "Smooth legs help." Chasta kneeled at the edge of the sharp grass, took careful hold of a blade, and severed it with a deft twist. She sat back with her knees lifted, brought it to her calf and stroked it across her skin. Her leg was very smooth where the little blade passed.

  Ted's eyes began to glaze, but he wasn't old enough to freak out. Pyra opened her mouth, knowing she had to break this up before the boy saw Too Much. All it took was long legs and a short skirt.

  "It's a Razor Glade," the peeve said.

  The glade, grass, and woman faded out. That was the pun. "Thank you, peeve," Pyra said halfway sincerely. The bird generally meant ill, but did sometimes have its uses.

  Several hoofed animals approached. They seemed harmless, but crowded in so closely that it was impossible to get anywhere. They were trapped by another pun.

  The children went at it with gusto. They had not gotten old enough to hate puns. "Can I pet you?" Monica asked.

  "Yes," the animals chorused.

  All three children set about some heavy petting, as the animals were softly furry and happy for the attention.

  "Now you've been petted," Pyra said. "Please let us pass."

  "Yes," the animals agreed. But they didn't move.

  "Zoo files," the peeve said. But for once it was wrong; that wasn't the pun, and the animals didn't budge. They merely chorused "Yes."

  Then a bulb flashed over Pyra's head. "Yes Deer!"

  The herd of amicable deer faded. She had gotten it.

  Now there was a big nut lying before them. Ted picked it up and put it to his mouth before Pyra could prevent him. He bit on it, but it was too hard for his teeth. "That's one tough nut," he said ruefully.

  "You can't crack it that way, dummy," Monica said. "Let me try." She picked up a rock and smashed it down on the nut. But it resisted her effort.

  Pyra took it and heated a spot fire around it. The nut scorched but resisted. It was fireproof too.

  Then the peeve got it. "The Gordian Nut! Really tough to crack." And it faded.

  Pyra pounced on the opportunity between puns. "Now we must get back." As she spoke the peeve came to light on her shoulder. Evidently it had finally had enough of puns.

  But a demon was blocking their way. It appeared to be male, but wore a skirt, and had a big letter S on its jersey. "Who am I?" it demanded.

  "Get out of our way, you cross-dressing freak!" the peeve said, using Pyra's voice.

  The demon swelled up to 1.33 times normal size. "You have a big mouth, hot chick. How would you like a mouthful of knuckles?" It pushed at her shoulder.

  The demon's hand sizzled and smoked as Pyra heated, literally. "Awk!" the peeve exclaimed, sailing off her burning shoulder.

  "I have it," Monica said. "You are Demon S—a male demoness."

  "O, phoo," the demon said, fading.

  "Move. Now," Pyra said. For once the children obeyed; they had evidently had enough of puns for the moment. They trooped to the edge of the amusement park.

  Not quite in time. A mountain appeared before them, surmounted by a huge eye. It peered grandly down at them. It was too massive and steep to pass. It had to be another pun.

  "What a massive fraud," the peeve said, returning to Pyra's shoulder and using her voice again. "What are you, a molehill with the bloat?"

  The mountain rumbled with rage. The eye squinted at Pyra, who of course seemed to be the one talking. She could really get to dislike the bird, if she tried. What was the pun?

  "You look sort of peaked," her voice said. "Got rocks in your head?"

  The mountain shook as if about to erupt, though it was not a volcano. The eye stared malignantly at them. But another bulb flashed over Pyra's head, triggered by the peeve's word. "Mountain Peeks!" she cried.

  The mountain faded. This time the children needed no urging; they grouped around her and ran across the spot the mountain had been, getting out of the comic strip. This time they made it.

  Che, Surprise, and Stymy were just returning. "Oh, were you visiting the park?" Stymy asked. "That looks like fun." He stepped toward it.

  "No!" Pyra and the children cried. As usual, too late.

  A whirlwind formed around him. Feathers started pulling themselves out of his wings and body. He tried to retreat, but a cone of wind held him in place. "Help!" he cried. "I'm being stripped!"

  "Stork Naked," the peeve said. "Serves you right, lamebrain. Don't you know a strip mall when you see it?"

  "We've got to help him," Pyra said. She dived into the windy park. The children followed, which wasn't what she had intended; she had misspoken.

  The whirling winds caught them all, tearing at their clothing. All three children screamed, not really with horror. This was legitimate naughtiness, because they weren't doing it deliberately.

  Clutching at her loosening dress, Pyra managed a fleeting thought: why hadn't the effect stopped when the peeve identified it as a strip mall? She concluded that it was because it wasn't an original pun; such malls existed in Xanth, lurking for unwary shoppers. They would have to find another pun to stop it.

  She looked desperately around. There had to be a pun handy; that was the nature of comic strips, whether real or emulation. All she saw was a table with several glass bottles, untouched by the wind. They were labeled FRENCH, ITALIAN, BLEU, THOUSAND ISLAND, RUSSIAN and others. If there was a pun there she was too frazzled to get it. But maybe she could fake it.

  She picked up the first bottle and dumped it on herself. Immediately she became clothed with an ornate Parisian costume. Good enough. She took the second bottle and sprinkled it on Ted. He developed a Roman toga. She took the third and flung it at the beleaguered stork. He became clothed in moldy cheese. She put the fourth on Monica. She got covered with a dress so patchy it seemed to be in a thousand little islands. The next one she poured on little Woe Betide, who was looking truly woeful as her dress ripped apart. She became a little costumed Cossack girl.

  Then she got it. "Dressing!" she cried. "Salad dressing. These are dressings—dressing us."

  The wind died. They were left standing in their assorted costumes. They hustled back out of the park before anything else could manifest. As they did, their clothing reverted to normal, and the stork recovered his feathers.

  "That was quick thinking," Che said. "Good for you, Pyra."

  She basked for half a moment in his praise. Then she snapped back to business. "I should never have let the children get into that park."

  "It would have been impossible to keep them out," Surprise said. "They're irrepressible."

  And this decent girl was the one she had to help corrupt. She was coming to hate her mission.

  She rode back on Che. "Who was she married to this time?" For Surprise still had no baby; it was another false lead.

  "Lacuna's younger son Jot. He's twenty-three now."

  "Jot? I don't place him."

  "We were children when Lacuna suffered her change of life. She got married retroactively, and suddenly she had a husband, a son Ryver, and twin children Jot and Tittle. Few are aware that her history had changed."

  "History can change—in the past?"

  "It is a difficult concept, I know. It seems that history can be changed, at least with respect to certain individuals. Theoretically I am destined to change the history of Xanth; I have never known precisely what that means. It may be that my tutoring of the Simurgh's chick Sim accounts for it. I am not sure."

  "You will change the history of Xanth," s
he repeated, impressed. "I wonder whether traveling in realities could have anything to do with it? They all seem to have different recent histories, if Surprise's varying marriages are any indication."

  "That is possible," he agreed. "We simply don't know. Certainly the Simurgh is involved. I believe she is trapped in the same reality as Surprise's baby."

  "So once you locate the baby, you'll know in what reality she is," Pyra said.

  "That is our hope." Repeating it seemed to comfort them both.

  "We had six realities to check. We have visited five of them. The next one must be the one."

  "By elimination," he agreed. "If that is not the one, we shall have some serious reconsideration to do."

  "It is the one," she said. "The Mask can't be wrong."

  "But there has been a good deal that the Mask has not informed us in advance."

  "It could have, had we taken the time to explore each reality more thoroughly. It seemed more efficient just to go and see for ourselves. Who would even have thought that Surprise would have several different husbands?"

  "Including me," he agreed. "We assumed that she would have the same husband throughout, so that it would be difficult to ascertain which baby was correct. Unquestioned assumptions are treacherous; I should have realized."

  "Unquestioned assumptions must be the autopilot of the mind. Tuning out. We need them to function efficiently."

  He turned his head to look back at her as he flew. It was a graceful maneuver, the twist starting in his back and progressing through his neck. "You seem smart for a human."

  She realized that this was a considerable compliment from a centaur. That thrilled her. She was getting his attention. She took a breath, hoping it would attract his unconscious attention to her upper torso. "Thank you. I have had time to ponder, living alone as I do." And of course she was tired of living alone. But what was the use, playing up to him, when she had decided to let him go? She was just confusing herself.

  "Perhaps, when this quest is done, we can be friends."

  "I would like that." A monstrous understatement.

  By the time they reached the Stork Works, the day was waning. They agreed to rest in the Stork Works chamber for the night, and tackle the final reality in the morning. They all knew that had to be the one.