Page 8 of Up in a Heaval


  "No," Umlaut said, glad that the recitation was finally done. But then he thought of something he would rather not have realized. "Did you take youth elixir or something, to live so long?"

  "No."

  "Then you must have died of old age in your sleep. You are here in soul form. That's what Dara didn't tell you. It is too late to get your youth back."

  "You must be right," Matt said, appalled. "This is awful." He wandered away, accompanied by Arme.

  Umlaut realized belatedly that Matt might have preferred not to learn that he was dead. Somehow he had messed up again. He had good intentions but was such a klutz.

  They approached the castle, and it looked just like the real Castle Roogna. Actually, maybe it was real, on its own terms.

  Three adult princesses came out to greet them. They looked somehow familiar. One wore green, another brown, and the third red. The second carried a harmonica, and the third a little drum.

  Umlaut stared impolitely. Could it be?

  "Hello, Sammy!" the first said, picking up the cat and hugging him. "You didn't forget Melody."

  "Hi, Sesame," the second said. "I haven't seen you since I was six years old. I'm glad you didn't forget Harmony." She hugged the serpent's foresection.

  "And Umlaut," the third princess said, giving him a hug. "You seem younger than I remember you. I'm Rhythm."

  "But—but you're only six years old!" he protested.

  All three princesses laughed. "This is your first visit to Ptero, isn't it," Melody said.

  "Time is different here," Harmony added.

  "We can be any age we choose to be, just by traveling," Rhythm concluded. "We're twenty-three at the moment."

  After some further explanations, Umlaut got it straight: On this world, time was geography. When a person traveled east, or "from," she became younger; west, or "to," she became older. They moved Castle Roogna around so they could live in it at whatever age they cared to be. It was all perfectly ordinary, they assured him. Six was the only age they couldn't be, because that was their current year of full mortal existence in Xanth.

  "And this is my fiancé Anomy," Melody said, introducing him to a rather ordinary-seeming man. "He was once a real dastard, but he reformed."

  Umlaut couldn't make sense of this, so he didn't comment. Probably he had misheard, as a princess would not use a bad word.

  "And what brings you three here?" Harmony inquired.

  "We are looking for Zombie World," Umlaut explained. "The Zombie Master's trail led here."

  "Of course," Rhythm agreed. "Zombie World is far up the line. We'll take you to Princess Ida." She took his arm.

  Umlaut was a bit disconcerted. She was a princess, and six years older than he was, and a lovely young woman. He felt indistinctly out of place. But what could he do? He suffered himself to be drawn on into the castle. Melody was carrying Sammy, and Harmony was chatting sociably with Sesame, seeming to understand the serpent's thoughts more readily than Umlaut did. But of course they had Sorceress-class magic and could do what they chose.

  Princess Ida looked seventeen years older but was definitely the same person. Except that her little moon was the shape of a four-sided pyramid. Each triangular side was a different color: red, blue, green, and gray. Umlaut had never heard of a four-colored pyramidal world, but evidently one existed.

  "Aunt Ida, these folk are going to Zombie World," Melody said brightly. "They're following the Zombie Master's trail."

  "Naturally," Ida agreed, as if this happened every day. "No need to leave your bodies for that destination, just focus on the footsteps."

  Now Umlaut saw the Zombie Master's tracks walking up through the air toward the world of Pyramid, growing smaller as they approached it. Sammy was already climbing the air, following them, growing smaller, and Sesame was slithering after him, her head section becoming smaller than her tail section. So Umlaut spoke a brief thank you to Princess Ida and ran after his friends.

  Soon they were slanting down toward the expanding world. It was rotating grandly, showing one side full face and then another. The edges seemed to be quite sharp, with no rounding off; even a river he saw went around the corner in a fold rather than a bend, changing color as it did. Apparently the rules of magic differed on this world, just as they did on Ptero. He had never before realized just how versatile magic was. He had assumed that what he knew in Xanth was the way it was everywhere, except for drear Mundania, where there was very little magic. Did Xanth seem dreary to the inhabitants of these other worlds?

  The footprints oriented on the blue face and came to land there. Here everything was in shades of blue: mountains, trees, rivers, animals, buildings. Otherwise it was reasonably familiar.

  They came to a blue lake. The footsteps crossed it, so they followed. Apparently this trail was enchanted, so that they could walk it without splashing into the lake. There was a blue isle, and on the isle was a blue ridge, and near that was a blue house. The prints went up to its door.

  They knocked, and Princess Ida appeared. She was about the age of the one on Ptero, but all blue, from hair to toes. What appeared to be a doughnut orbited her head. "Uh, we're going to Zombie World," Umlaut said awkwardly. "I'm Umlaut, and this is Sesame Serpent, and—'

  "Sammy!" she exclaimed, picking him up. The cat had friends everywhere. Then she looked back at Umlaut. "You will want to continue following the tracks. You are fortunate he left the trail, for otherwise your travel would be much complicated."

  "Complicated?"

  "You would have to eat and drink and sleep and ask directions. That means interacting with the natives. Asking favors."

  He still didn't get it. "Favors?"

  "On this world, anyone who does a favor gains size. Anyone who receives it loses size. So most prefer to give rather than to receive, for selfish reasons. You are spared that, as the trail conveys you swiftly without the need to pause along the way."

  "Oh. Yes. Thank you for clarifying that." Then something slightly disturbing occurred to him. "Is that a favor?"

  Ida laughed. "No. I have an arrangement with the Zombie Master, to help travelers along their way. He and I settled accounts separately."

  "Accounts?"

  "I get to follow the trail myself, when I wish to, and see the other worlds. That's his return favor to me. I delight in such sightseeing."

  This seemed odd. After a moment he figured out what was bothering him. "You can go to another world—circling your own head?"

  "Yes. Isn't it wonderful? I thought for a long time that I couldn't, but then I learned that I could, since it is merely soul travel. My body remains here, of course."

  "Uh, yes," he agreed. Their own bodies remained in Xanth; they were now mere souls, though they seemed much the same. But smaller. He tried to imagine how small, thinking of the sphere of Ptero, then the much smaller Pyramid. And it seemed these were merely the beginning of a long chain. He got dizzy.

  "Don't try to make too much sense of it," Princess Ida recommended. "It's one of those things a person must accept on faith, so as to remain sane. Just accept each world on its own terms as you come to it."

  The dizziness began to clear. "I will. Thanks."

  "Remember that each world is unique to itself in custom as well as form. The next one incurs a burden of emotion for favors rendered, rather than size."

  "I don't understand."

  "One who does a service for another comes to like that person, or even love him. So it is best to be cautious about doing or receiving favors, unless you can arrange to exchange favors. Then they cancel out."

  "We'll be careful," Umlaut promised, shaken. Instead of getting accustomed to these new worlds, he was becoming increasingly nervous about them.

  "Now you had better follow the trail to Torus."

  "Torus?"

  "The doughnut."

  He felt stupid again. "Oh. Thanks." He saw the tracks proceeding through the air toward the moon, as before.

  Princess Ida released Sammy, and he bound
ed up the trail, becoming rapidly smaller, until he disappeared onto the doughnut world. "Wait for us!" Umlaut called belatedly and followed with Sesame.

  "So nice to meet you, Umlaut and Sesame," Ida called after them. Now she seemed mountainously large.

  "Same here," Umlaut called back, afraid his voice wouldn't reach that expanding distance.

  They landed on the inner surface of Torus and followed the tracks to what turned out to be the Sarah Sea and across it to the isle of Niffen. There were many wild creatures there, but they remained clear of the trail.

  The Ida here was as helpful as the others had been, and soon they were on their way to her moon, which was shaped like a cone filled with water. After that the worlds tended to blur in Umlaut's mind; each was distinct and original in many ways, but there was only so much he could assimilate on one trek. The Ida on Cone lived under its huge sea, inside its pointed end. Somehow they were able to breathe down there. There was a lot going on at the rim of the sea, but Umlaut didn't catch its nature.

  They went on to Dumbbell, which was shaped like its name; everyone there was a fitness freak, even a supremely muscular Ida in the center of the bar. Then Pincushion, with huge pins stuck in it. And Spiral, like a grandly whirling galaxy. And Tangle, like knotted spaghetti. And Motes, a swirling collection of blobs of rock. Trapezoid, Shoe, Implosion, Puzzle, Octopus, Tesseract, Fractal—he simply could not hold them all in his mind, though each was surely deserving of plenty of attention, because each had a world full of plants, creatures, and odd people living there.

  Then at last one registered: Zombie! They had finally reached Zombie World. It looked like a spoiled tomato from space, but it was real and whole on its own terms. It was so impossibly tiny, in the scheme of derivative worlds, that it pained his mind just to consider the matter, yet it loomed now as one more complete planet. It had sickening slime-covered seas and rotting vegetation and creatures who shed putrid gobs of flesh as they walked, but it was home to refugee zombies, and they surely loved it.

  "I hope our business here is done soon," Umlaut muttered. Both Sammy and Sesame nodded.

  The tracks ended at the surface of the planet. They were just to lead zombies in, not to bring visitors all the way to the Zombie Master. Umlaut's party would have to locate him on their own.

  Fortunately they had Sammy. He bounded ahead, and they followed, hoping soon to come to a replica of Castle Zombie.

  Then Sammy halted. There was a swarm of bees ahead, buzzing dangerously. It wouldn't be smart to challenge those. But they blocked off Sammy's route.

  "Maybe they're not as dangerous as they look," Umlaut said hopefully.

  Then a road hog rushed through. It seemed that such swine were everywhere, even here, and didn't give way to anybody or anything. Umlaut wondered whether they were related to the speed demons. The boarish creature ran right into the swarm of bees.

  The swarm pounced. A bee stung the hog on the tail, and it squealed with outrage. But already it was changing. Now it was coming to resemble a zombie hog.

  "Those are zom-bees!" Umlaut exclaimed. "Their stings make creatures resemble zombies! Naturally that would be the kind for this world."

  That answered his question: These bees were indeed dangerous, more so than the regular kind. They would have to go around the swarm.

  They tried, but the jungle was thick. They did not want to touch the slime-coated trees or the sludge-coated ground. Sammy's route had avoided such things, but now they were stuck with the regular zombie terrain.

  Umlaut saw the shine of water in the distance. "That looks like a clear lake," he said. "Maybe we can make a raft or boat and cross the worst of it."

  The others agreed. They picked their way cautiously to the edge of the lake. There was a black shack with a boat tied nearby. That looked ideal. Maybe they could borrow that boat.

  A black man reclined outside the shack. "What can I do for you?" he inquired as they approached.

  "We'd like to borrow your boat," Umlaut said.

  The man eyed them. "You don't look much like zombies."

  "We aren't. We have to deliver a letter to the Zombie Master."

  "Is it an emergency?"

  Umlaut exchanged a glance with his companions. "I wouldn't call it that, but we think it is necessary."

  "In that case, I'll take you there. I'm Preston Black." He held out his hand.

  Umlaut took it. "Thanks. You don't look much like a zombie either."

  "That's because I wasn't dead long before I was zombied. There's no rot on me. I even kept my talent."

  "What's your talent?"

  "You'll see."

  They went to the boat. It was larger than it had looked from a distance; there was room for them all, including Sesame.

  Umlaut looked across the water. "What is the name of this lake?"

  "It's not a lake, it's a sea. The Emergen Sea. It is not safe to use it unless there's a real need." Preston lifted a pole and pushed it against the water. The boat moved out.

  "You pushed the water!" Umlaut exclaimed, surprised.

  "That's my talent. I can move whatever I press on."

  "But it was the boat that moved, not the water."

  "It was the water that moved," Preston said. "And the whole sea with it, and the rest of the planet. I pushed them away." He pushed again.

  Umlaut decided not to argue, since they were getting where they were going. The man could be right.

  While they were moving, Umlaut had nothing to do, so he brought out the letter to read. That way he wouldn't have to embarrass himself by reading it in front of its recipient.

  It was from HELPMASTER, UNIVERSAL AID, in Mundania, and the date was classified.

  Sir:

  For an extended period of time I have been monitoring events taking place in your land. How this has been accomplished is of no importance to yourself.

  It has been brought to my attention that in the near future you intend to turn over the care of your castle to two living humans. Do you deem this a wise move? Are these humans to be trusted? You must keep in mind your esteemed position. All the zombies look to you for guidance and protection. If they have placed valuable objects with you for safekeeping, will said belongings be concealed from these humans?

  I realize you well know your business; you would not have attained your place of authority otherwise. However, from personal experience with "people" I must advise you to exercise extreme caution.

  With kind regards, Zombie.guard.inc

  Umlaut considered that. The letter was obviously well out of date; that snail was a terror in that respect. The Zombie Master had turned over the castle to Justin Tree and Breanna of the Black Wave a year ago. So it was way too late for him to exercise caution of any kind.

  Well, at least it seemed to be a harmless letter. Umlaut folded it and put it away. He would have no concern about delivering it.

  "Uh-oh," the boatman said.

  Umlaut didn't like the sound of that. "What's wrong?"

  "We're coming to the Dire Straits. That's where everything goes wrong."

  Umlaut saw that there was an ominous ripple in the water ahead, where the lake narrowed. "There isn't an alternate route?"

  "Not today. Usually the straits are elsewhere, but they must have moved in overnight. We'll have to chance them."

  Umlaut wasn't easy about that but saw no alternative. In any event, the craft had already been caught up by the swift current of the straits. Maybe today would be the exception, when things didn't go wrong.

  "Oh, no!" Preston Black groaned.

  That did not sound unduly promising. "What is it?"

  "Scylla and Charybdis are on duty today."

  "Silly and Charitable? They don't sound too bad."

  Preston glanced at him as if he were the zombie. "I gather you don't know your mythology."

  "I guess I don't," Umlaut agreed.

  "Scylla was once a pretty nymph, but she annoyed a god, who turned her into a six-headed sea monster with a tast
e for live meat. She was a terror for passing ships because she would snatch six crewmen off their decks and eat them. So they learned to avoid her. Then she teamed up with Charybdis, who was a whirlpool that liked to swallow ships whole. When a ship tried to avoid Charybdis, it got too close to Scylla, so she still got her meal."

  "But couldn't ships simply sail around them both?"

  "Not in narrow passages."

  Umlaut was beginning to get a glimmer of the problem. "They're here? How did that happen?"

  "In the course of time they got old and died. They appealed to the Zombie Master, who zombied them on condition that they not bother regular Xanth folk. So they joined him here on Zombie World."

  And now this boat faced zombie monsters. Things were certainly going wrong in the Dire Straits. It was too late to turn back; the current had a firm grip on the boat.

  Umlaut gazed ahead. There just to the right was a huge whirling depression in the ooze covering the water. That would be the zombie whirlpool. To the left were six snakelike heads projecting from the water. "Why, she's a serpent!"

  Sesame took an interest. She gave Umlaut a Leave this to me glance and slithered to the front of the boat, building an emulation as she went. Soon she seemed to have several ugly zombie sea monster heads. She was good!

  The boatman steered the boat left, as there was no point in feeding the whirlpool. Scylla's heads loomed close, ready to pounce, each more rotten than the others. But they were met by Sesame's heads. The two monsters held a brief twelve-headed dialogue. Then Scylla backed off and disappeared under the slime.

  "I never saw the like," Preston said. "What did she do?"

  "I think she invoked professional courtesy," Umlaut said. "One sea monster doesn't intrude on the domain of another."

  "I could get to like a monster like that," Preston said as Sesame dissolved the emulation, her heads coming together and merging into one. "She just saved us from a bad chomping and swallowing. Of course a zombie can't be killed, and neither can a resident of the soul worlds, so I would have been back on duty after Scylla finished digesting me, but I wouldn't have enjoyed it much."

  It occurred to Umlaut that the three travelers would have enjoyed it even less, since they weren't zombies or residents and could be killed. He gave Sesame's foresection a hug. "Thanks, monster." It was no insult to call her monster, because that was what she was. Most monsters were justly proud of their heritage.