Despite her aversion to this whole scene, she was curious. "What is it?"
"A Goof Ball. Play with it and you will goof things up."
"What use is that?"
"Give it to the children. They will soon be in no condition to oppose you."
What did he know about the children? Bringing them had been mostly a matter of accident. He knew entirely too much about her, for one supposedly surprised by her visit. "No."
He brought out a small rag doll with a long pin through its hair. "This should really help manage children, even part demons. It's a VooDoo doll."
Again, curiosity overcame revulsion. "I don't understand."
"Merely orient the doll on a person with a spot verbal spell. Thereafter whenever you stick the pin in it, the person feels the same stick, though nothing shows. It is a marvelously safe yet effective way of delivering pain." He withdrew the pin from the doll's hair and oriented on the doll's belly.
"No!" Surprise cried, almost feeling a stab through her own belly. "Put it back!"
"You are difficult to satisfy." Somehow he conveyed a nuance that had a sexual connection.
"Don't you have anything that doesn't hurt people?"
He fished around. "This, maybe." He held up a compact squarish construction. "A Soap Box."
"Isn't that a box for soap?"
"It is a box made out of soap stone. Stand on it and vent your opinions, however obnoxious they may be. It washes you clean of them, leaving a foul taste."
Surprise had a vision of the pet peeve perching on the box and opening its beak—and choking on the taste of soap. But again she rallied. "No."
He studied her, evidently perplexed. "Is there no greed or meanness in your body?"
"None," she said, hoping it was true.
"Let's see." He brought out a bottle of pills. "This should interest you."
"Pills? Why?"
"These are magic pills, compressed from the dust near the Magic Dust Village. They have very strong magic, enough to enable a person to perform some magic in Mundania, or to greatly enhance individual talents. Whatever you do, you could do with greater effect, swallowing one of these. Pop! Twice the power. Make your talents truly effective."
That was interesting. She could use each talent only once, and if once wasn't enough, she could not call it back for another try. Greater power of talents could be very nice. "I don't know."
"Ha! You waver."
That stiffened her softening backbone. "No! I'll never be a pill-popper."
He tossed the bottle aside and brought out a hank of shiny gray yarn. "Steel Wool, shorn from metallic sheep. It will make very fine protective garments that still readily flex and look nice." He held it up, measuring it against her body with his eye. "You would look spectacular in a close-fitting gown woven of this."
He was getting closer. A truly flexible but impervious cloth that enhanced her figure. But not at the expense of her baby. "No."
"Won't you at least try it on?" He shook the yarn, and it dropped down into a slinky garment. "It would be a shame to waste it on a figure inferior to yours."
She fought hard and won. "No."
"Surprise wears it when we go out. She looks great."
That did not have the effect he intended. He was referring to the soulless creature of this reality. Surprise did not want any dress that had touched that flesh to touch her own. "Forget it."
He considered a disturbing moment. She didn't like it when he thought, knowing his thoughts were not healthy for her mission. Then he brought out a packet of something. "Rows Seeds."
"Roses?"
"Rows. Plant these seeds and their flowers will grow only in neat rows. Excellent for decorating walks and around houses; nothing grows out of line."
Surprise thought of that around the Golem house, whose surrounding plants were somewhat sloppily arranged. But again, it was hardly enough to sacrifice her baby for. "No."
"Then what about this?" He grasped one of the dog's tails projecting from the chest and hauled it out. The entire dog came out: a Mundane German Shepherd and Samoyed mix, white and light tan with a white nose, white brows, and freckles. "This is Spunky, looking for a good home."
The dog blinked. "He's alive!" she exclaimed, astonished. "And you had him buried in the chest?"
As she spoke, Spunky cocked his head to look at her. His left ear flopped over. Her knees dissolved. She loved animals, and knew that Mundane pets were in special need of homes, as it took them time to get used to the magic and monsters of Xanth.
But instead of her baby? She couldn't. "No," she whispered, heartbroken.
"Wrong dog?" Umlaut pulled on another tail, bringing out another Mundane crossbreed dog, a combination of black lab and American bull, with long silky hair, black with a white flame pattern on his chest. "This is Hercules. He saved a girl from a rattlesnake, but he's very gentle. You couldn't have a better guard dog."
The dog gazed soulfully at her, in sharp contrast to the gaze of the man.
Surprise struggled. The soulless Umlaut must have done it deliberately, plying her with minor inanimate things before suddenly springing the warm live creatures on her. If the price had been anything other than her baby—
"No. Stop with these things. I don't want any of them." At least, not considering his asking price.
Umlaut shrugged. He jammed the unprotesting dogs back into the chest, slammed shut the lid, and shoved it under the bed. Surprise winced to think of the poor dogs trapped in there, but there had to be some sort of spell to keep them alive. "Then it is time to return to our tryst, You never said whether you preferred to undress yourself or have me do it for you. At least you're halfway there." He eyeballed her bare top again.
"Why should I express a preference?" she asked, flustered.
"So I can have the pleasure of ignoring it."
"I don't trust you. I told you, I need to see my baby—Prize—taken out of this house with Che Centaur." She grabbed her loose shirt and put it back on. Fortunately she didn't need an undergarment.
"That is not convenient at the moment."
There was same additional nuance of annoyance. "At the moment?"
"See." He touched the bedroom door, and it became a glassy window showing the other room.
She looked through the pane. There was Che with Surprise Seven. He was standing on the floor. She was standing on the chair, naked, and plastered to his front, kissing him avidly as her hands stroked his back. There was no sign of Stymy Stork; he must have gone outside.
Surprise hauled her slack jaw up. "What is going on?"
"We call it seduction. Maybe it has another name in your reality."
"But he has no interest in her!"
"That seems to be in question. I agree, however, that he does not seem to be responding. Yet."
"How can you watch your wife do that with another male?"
"Oh, it turns me on. Assuming it does the same for you, shall we proceed with our own liaison?"
"No!" But her eyes remained fastened to the awful scene. Every time she thought she had the measure of the horror of this situation, some new ugly twist developed. How could Che tolerate the efforts of that soulless creature?
Unfortunately, she had an answer. In Reality Three Che was married to Surprise Three, so obviously they were compatible. In Reality One the two of them had waded through the love elixir and suffered greater effect than anticipated. Here was Surprise Seven, looking exactly like her, catering to that passion. How could he resist?
Yet resist he did. His arms did not enclose her, and his lips did not respond to her ardent kisses. He merely stood there despite maneuvers that should have driven him to distraction.
At last Seven gave it up. "Bleep! You win."
Che did not respond to that either.
"I should have tortured the baby. Just a few pinches would have made her scream."
Now the peeve spoke. "You agreed not to, shrew, provided he allowed you to exercise your dubious wiles on him. Face i
t: you gambled and lost."
So that was it! The witch had threatened the baby, and Che had acted to prevent that. He had been noble rather than dissolute. She owed him for his loyalty.
But why had Seven wanted to tempt Che? There, too, she might have an answer: she was turned on by him, and her soulless condition allowed her to do whatever suited her whim of the moment. So she had chosen to pass the time in her own unscrupulous fashion.
Umlaut's questing hand touched her hip. She shook it off. "We're done here," she said sharply. Part of her mind wondered why he was being so careful to obtain her consent before acting; surely he would try to force her if he thought he could get away with it. Of course if he tried force she would smite him with her magic; maybe that was the reason. But she suspected there was something else. She had not yet fathomed the complete depths of this ugly situation.
She pushed open the door and entered the other room. She was ready to kill someone, even if it was her other self. "You want to torture my baby?" she demanded dangerously.
Seven, naked, shrugged. "Why not? She's a pain to take care of."
That had to be deliberate baiting. Did Seven want to fight her? What would it be like, to struggle magically against one who could match any talent, once? "What's going on?"
"You are trying to take our baby, that's what's going on," Seven said arrogantly. "Why don't you simply get your pushy little butt out of here and leave us alone?"
"Because you have my baby," she retorted. "And you are mistreating her. She can't remain with you."
"She can and will," Seven said. "What are you going to do about it?" She remained naked, the view compelling Che's unwilling attention. In fact she was flaunting her body to distract the centaur, making aspects move or jiggle. Surprise had to admit it was a good body, well managed.
It was definitely a challenge, to both of them, with different facets. Surprise had never been a violent person, but she had been driven to the verge of her limit. "I'm going to—"
"Surprise," the peeve said from its perch on the crib.
That made her pause. The peeve never called her by name, only by some insult, though they understood each other and got along well enough, considering. "What?"
"I have something to tell you that you need to know."
"Stay out of it, bird-dropping!" Seven snapped.
The peeve did not respond with another insult, oddly. It focused only on Surprise. "That woman is dangerous. She is not what she seems."
"I'm going to fry you for dinner, if you don't shut your lying beak," Seven said fiercely.
That, too, was odd. The peeve could lie with the best of them, but had never done so to Surprise or her family. What did it want to tell her, and why was Seven so dead set against it? "I already know she has no soul."
"Not exactly," the peeve said.
Seven strode toward the bird. Surprise conjured a pane of hard plastic to bar her way, knowing Seven would immediately dissolve it with another spell, but not thinking of anything better on the spur of the moment. She didn't like spurs; they were likely to get her into trouble.
But Seven did not. She batted at the barrier with her fists, uttering words Surprise hardly knew and would never use herself. Odd, odd; why didn't she use her magic?
Surprise put her head down to listen to the peeve. "What is it?"
"That's not really Surprise," the peeve said. "That's a souled entity, but no better for it."
"I don't understand." Indeed she did not.
"I recognize her because I have run afoul of her before. She is Morgan le Fey, a Sorceress from ancient Mundania. She's looking for a body to take over, in the manner of the Sea Hag, and evidently Surprise Seven is it. Beware of her; she is utterly unscrupulous."
"Morgan le Fey!" Surprise exclaimed, amazed. "Why would she want my baby?"
"Because that's my future host and entry to Xanth proper," Seven/Morgan said. "You might as well know, since the bleepity bird blabbed anyway." She had finally abolished the plastic pane.
"Somebody had to, bitch-butt," the peeve retorted.
Surprise fumbled for emotional or intellectual anchorage. "But you're tormenting her! Why ruin the one you want to use?"
"I am taking good care of her body. It's her mind that is of no value to me, as I will banish that when I take over."
It made such dreadful sense that for the moment Surprise was speechless.
Che filled in the dialogue. "How did you get the stork to deliver the baby to you, since you are obviously unqualified?"
"It was a sacrifice," Umlaut said. "We had to leave our marriages and pretend to be a couple, and actually signal the stork, nine months ago, fooling the system. What a chore!"
"You liked it at the time, lout-brain," Morgan snapped.
"I liked her body, not your mind, you arrogant fairy," he retorted. "You sneered all the way through."
"Naturally, dullard. Who in her right mind would want to signal with you?"
"My wife would!"
"Big deal! Your wife's made of metal."
Surprise exchanged a fleeting glance with Che. This was fascinating in its ugliness.
"And your husband's an ogre," he said.
"Exactly who are the two of you married to, in this reality?" Che asked.
"The crossbreed twins delivered to Esk Ogre and Bria Brassie," Umlaut said. "Epoxy Ogre and Benzine Brassie."
"But they're only fifteen years old!" Che said.
Both Umlaut and Morgan looked at him. "What's your point, horse-nose?" she asked.
"The Adult Conspiracy forbids underage stork summoning."
"Not here it doesn't," Umlaut said. "There is no Adult Conspiracy in this reality. Children can and do attempt stork summoning, if they're minded to."
"And some succeed," Morgan said. She smiled, not nicely. "Epoxy is satisfactory, when I choose to have him so; his talent is to make things hard and fast. But the lout here has a problem: Benzine's talent is to make things soft and loose."
"Haw haw haw!" the peeve laughed. "No wonder Um Lout is so hot to make it with other girls!"
Umlaut looked ready to kill. Surprise would have been shocked, had she had a few more of her wits about her. What filthy laundry was being aired here!
"That does not explain why you attempted to seduce me," Che said to Morgan.
"Apart from the fact that you're a handsome equine specimen?"
"That can hardly be your prime motive."
"To distract you from the lout's effort with Surprise," Morgan said. "What counts is that she agree to give up her claim and leave the baby here. We need that release, or there could be complications."
Umlaut had attempted to seduce her in exchange for giving her the baby. Now Surprise realized that the other facet of that deal was that she would agree to give up her baby if she didn't want to be seduced. The spines on this mace struck every which way.
"Complications. Because Prize is really Surprise's baby, not yours," Che agreed. "But that doesn't explain how she was delivered here. How did you arrange the fissure between realities? You couldn't have managed a feat like that on your own."
The naked Sorceress eyed the centaur speculatively. She took another breath, deeper than it strictly needed to be. She evidently had not really given up on him. Any ordinary man would have freaked out by now. "You are observant. I like that. Yes, that required Demon magic. Fornax did it."
"But Demoness Fornax can't interfere with Xanth. Demon Xanth wouldn't allow it."
"Demon Xanth has no authority to prevent it. As a tag end of a prior Demon agreement, Demoness Fornax has half of Surprise's soul, and Demon Jupiter has the other half. That gives them a certain tacit claim on the bodies. Fornax may use this body as a legitimate entry to the Land of Xanth, after I am done with it. That's her business. I am maintaining the body for her in the interim."
Surprise could only marvel at the dastardliness of the deal. None of the participants cared half a whit whom they hurt. The Good Magician must have suspected this; that wa
s why he had tried to dissuade her from coming after her baby. Yet what a ghastly fate awaited innocent little Prize if Surprise did not rescue her!
"I think we have heard enough," Che said grimly. "You folk have no legitimate claim on this baby. We'll take Prize now, regardless."
"I think not," Morgan said.
"You have a way to stop us, knowing that your Sorceress magic cannot match Surprise's abilities in this limited venue?"
Because it seemed that Morgan could not use Surprise's talents, which were attached to her soul. Only if at least part of that soul were returned to the body would her talents return. Morgan surely had powers of her own, but she was at a disadvantage here. Che was tacitly reminding Surprise of that.
"I have tried to be reasonable," Morgan said, facing Surprise. "But since you will not have it, it's no more Miss Nice Sorceress. You must make a more difficult choice: the baby or the children."
"The children!" Surprise said, appalled. "You would threaten them?"
"Of course I would, you ninny. While we dickered here I sent an apparition to separate them from their naive baby sitter. Now they are lost, and will surely come to grief, and it will be your fault. Unless, of course, you elect to yield your claim on the brat. Then I will indicate the location of the children."
Surprise was frozen with painful indecision. She couldn't desert her baby—but neither could she sacrifice the children. What a terrible pass!
Che rescued her again. "You pretend that it is an either/or choice, malign Sorceress. That is not so. We shall search and locate the children, then take the baby to her rightful home."
Morgan took another deep breath, as she made a high-silhouette quarter turn toward him. "Lots of luck, stallion."
The centaur ignored the naked taunt. "Come, Surprise, peeve. We have work to do." He led the way out of the house.
Stymy Stork was there. "Did you get the—?" He broke off, seeing that she hadn't. "I'm sorry. I could not face that thing in your body."
"Not your fault," Surprise said. "But now we can use your help, if you are willing to lend it."
"Whatever you ask," he agreed. "I'm sure Pyra will too."
"So will I," the peeve said. "I like Prize and hate Morgan le Fey."
"Thank you," Surprise said tearfully.