“I see this will be a solid task, educating me,” she said. “I am barely older than your daughters, and have been a mother for only a day. I must not take your time without exchange; I must trade a service for a service. What can I do for you?"
“Negation,” Innate protested. “We are at the service of the king and queen."
“Negation. I am here as a woman needing help. I will exchange."
The parents exchanged a glance, but it was Ino who spoke. “That appeal must be honored."
“But we need nothing,” Intrepid said. “We would not ask a pointless service."
“Ini,” Ino murmured.
That set both parents back. Yet they were clearly ill at ease about this.
“Our sister Initiative is the smartest of us all,” Ine said. “She is much interested in the essence of all things. She has even made a lens to study the surface of Counter-Charm, perceiving detail and creatures there unknown to others. But because of that, she is not a good prospect for marriage; men don't like wives who know more than they do."
“But a smart woman learns to mask that,” Gale said. “I did."
“She is also unpretty. Of course every Invisible woman wakes herself pretty, but in close embrace a man can tell."
“Maybe she needs a wider field of men,” Gale said. “In Triumph City there are all kinds."
“So I have told her,” Ine said. “She was there briefly, when we delivered Throe home. And you know, we had fun with him, but his love was only for an older and unremarkable woman, Ennui. A man of that nature might love Ini. But she saw only the crowded business of the city, and the tight enclosure of it, and fled it. She does not want to go there."
“Yet she faces an uncertain marriage here, in two years,” Innate said. “She deserves so much better."
Gale saw the problem. No girl wanted a leftover man; there were reasons why those men were rejected by other women. “I do not know what I can do, but I will make the effort. Perhaps I can persuade her to give Triumph another chance."
Innate smile gratefully. “While you make that effort, we will start training your babies to mind, so that simple signals will maintain their discipline in a kindly manner."
“Done!” Gale looked around. “Where is Ini?"
“I can take you to her,” Ine said. She passed Warp to Ino, whose young breasts immediately expanded, ready for use. The girl was only fifteen, but knew what was what. Perhaps her contact with the Black Glamor was already stretching her horizons.
“I will remain here, learning,” Symbol said. She was still holding Flame, who seemed to like her; there had been no further outbreaks of fire.
Gale nodded. While she had no reason to doubt the motives or competence of the parents, she trusted Symbol in a special manner. Also, the woman would quickly relay what she learned, so that Gale would not miss anything important.
She gave Weft to Innate. The baby girl started to fuss, but a miniature display of circling colored stars appeared, distracting her. Gale made a mental note: she could use illusion to divert the babies.
“Take my hand,” Ine said.
“You can transport?” Glamors could do it, and some Chroma folk, but Gale understood that it was difficult magic that most left alone.
“I am a sorceress; I try to master all magics."
Which made sense. “Lead me.” Gale took her hand.
Ine transported herself to another part of the Chroma zone, guiding Gale there. This was another new experience; Gale had done it with Havoc and other Glamors, learning how, but never with a regular Chroma person. The magic seemed identical; what was unusual was Gale's ability to invoke it anywhere.
They landed at a simple home site with a workshop, and the surrounding landscape was invisible; obviously the proprietor was not much for appearances. “Iniquitous!” Ine called.
Ini appeared, forming as a plain young woman. Vanity was evidently not her forte. “Yes, Inefficient?"
Gale burst out laughing. “Apology,” she said after a moment. “The way you tease each other."
“Surprise,” Ini said. “Queen Gale."
“Heed her, sister,” Ine said. “She needs you.” She vanished.
Ini gazed at Gale. “You do not command?"
“I have not been queen long enough to learn how. I am exchanging a service with your parents."
“Situation."
Gale explained it: Glamor, babies, deal. “So I must persuade you to come to Triumph City, if I can."
“I would not do that voluntarily."
“They wish you to marry well, and fear that will not happen here. There are many men in Triumph, some of whom appreciate intelligence in a woman."
“How many appreciate plainness?"
Gale shrugged. “I lack experience there. But since you can make yourself appear as you wish—"
“Disinterest."
This was not working. Ini wanted to be valued as she was, and that was indeed a challenge. “What do you most desire?"
“Knowledge."
It figured. This woman was dedicated to learning. That was not Gale's strong suit. Uncertain how to proceed, she stalled. “Example?"
“Counter-Charm. Everyone knows it is our sister planet, very like our own world, with Chroma volcanoes. Many folk stare at it in fascination, wondering whether there are people like us there. But I don't want to wonder, I want to know. And I am trying to find out."
“But all we can do is look at it,” Gale said. Actually she understood that Glamors could go there; there was supposed to be a Glamor retreat there. But she hadn't had time to follow up on that since becoming a Glamor. Marriage, the study of Glamor powers, research into her constituency of moss and lichen, and now the babies had kept her thoroughly occupied.
“I fashioned a magic lens to peer at it more closely. Throe helped me make a breakthrough; we were supposed to have sex—you know about how he had to check all of us for Jamais Vu?—but the lens was more interesting. We saw strange animals! Since then I have watched further, and catalogued the creatures I see. But as you say, just looking from afar is limited; how I wish I could go there and survey it from up close!"
“But would it be safe?” Gale was getting interested.
“I tried to analyze the quality of light reflected from it, and believe it matches our own, close enough; that suggests that the air is similar. The two planets are so close in size and composition that gravity must be similar. Some of the life forms resemble our own, so I think they managed to cross between worlds, or were colonized from the same source. But most are different. Since the known plants and creatures interact with the strange ones, I think they must have similar biology. And of course the magic is similar; the volcanoes and Chroma zones are just like ours, with certain intriguing exceptions. So yes, I think it would be safe for us, in the sense that we could survive there, if we protected ourselves from predators.” She sighed. “But such speculation is foolish; I will never walk that phenomenal surface."
“I am not sure that is impossible,” Gale said.
Ini paused. “Glamors may be able to go there. But why should they take any of us?"
“Compromise: join our mission for a year or less, and help us fathom the riddle of ourselves: who set up the things of the Glamors, the ikons, the altars, the loom. What opposes our quest for this knowledge? There is a power we do not understand. Thereafter, solved or unsolved, return here as you were, if you wish. If it is possible in that time, I will get you to Counter-Charm, at least briefly."
Ini's eyes glowed, literally. “Deal."
Thus readily she had found the key: the woman wanted to know, and this was worthy knowledge. She would surely be a great help in the quest. And Gale was curious about the sister world herself. In her home village it was called Mystery. By whatever name it was fascinating.
* * * *
Havoc left the chamber—and there was Throe. Good to have you back, Sire, the bodyguard thought. He could not say it aloud because theoretically the king had never left
the palace, apart from a brief honeymoon after his marriage. Throe served the mock king in the same manner, maintaining the pretense, but his heart was not in it.
“Question: have you any idea what's up?"
“Trouble between Chroma, Sire."
“I'm sure you'll keep me safe."
“I will do my utmost, Sire.” They both knew that Havoc needed no guardian as a Glamor, but maintained the pretense that he was a still a normal man.
Havoc reported to the counseling chamber, Throe fading into the background as was his wont. Where are you, Chief? he thought.
Close by, Havoc. I must not enter until officially summoned. It is a matter of protocol.
Oh. Havoc raised a hand and snapped his fingers. “Chief!"
Chief entered in a moment, half smiling. “You summoned me, Sire?"
“I understand there is a problem."
“There is, Sire.” Even in a private meeting, Chief maintained the formal address. Protocol counted for a lot.
“Speak."
“There is mischief between a Green Chroma and Yellow Chroma zone. Their areas overlap, and unusual plants grow there. Both Chroma want control of the region, so as to exploit the produce of those plants."
“They can't split it down the middle?"
“They are unwilling. They are threatening to go to war."
“Question?"
“It is possible where zones overlap. Fireballs versus huge green tentacles."
“Interest."
Chief shook his head. “It behooves the king to make peace, not applaud war."
Havoc sighed. “Even a barbarian king?"
“Especially a barbarian king. He must demonstrate control over his nature."
“I could issue a directive."
“Sire, I think not."
“Question?"
“It may be that this product is too important to leave to either Chroma. I believe the crown should expropriate it for universal use."
“Clarification."
“The plants produce a potent magic aphrodisiac. I understand that the fruits and the juice of the fruits cause many creatures, including humans, male and female, to suffer virtually insatiable sexual desire."
“Exclamation! Everyone will want it."
Chief smiled. “Agreement, Sire."
“And in this case the king's decision will have to be enforced."
“Agreement."
“Do it."
Chief shook his head. “Protocol, Sire."
“Damn protocol! What do I have to do?"
“Sire, you should make a formal visit of state, with the queen, survey the situation, consult with the sides, confer with other Chroma, and come to a conclusion as to the appropriate course for the betterment of all parties."
“Gale can't handle that right now.” He shot Chief a mental picture of the three babies.
Chief suppressed his astonishment at this family news. “Yet a decision of this magnitude, at least in the popular image, requires due formality. Appearance is as important as substance. The people must believe that their king has given this matter his best attention."
“Problem."
“Perhaps the queen will after all see fit to accompany you.” Chief knew she wouldn't, but was leading up to something.
Havoc shrugged. “We can ask her."
“Bijou,” Chief said, not loudly. The girl appeared almost immediately, as palace personnel were trained to. “Ask Queen Gale if she would be amenable to accompanying the king on a royal mission. If not, perhaps the Lady Symbol."
The girl nodded and departed. She knew as well as Havoc did that Symbol was tied up with the same commitment as Gale. They couldn't leave the babies.
“There is another matter,” Chief said. “It seems the loom is active. Nonce brought it to the palace, and invoked it, and she and the Ladies Ennui and Aspect are taking turns weaving an ambitious tapestry. This may not be completely voluntary on their part."
“Surprise! I thought that turned out to be a dead end."
“I suspect the end is alive; it is merely our comprehension that is inadequate. Perhaps this is the loom's way of acquainting us with the next stage. I believe we should let the weaving proceed, and try to fathom the nature of the tapestry as it progresses."
“How long does it take?"
“A small simple effort may be accomplished in a day. This one looks more like a year."
Havoc looked at him. That was bound to be a phenomenal creation. “It must be relevant."
“Agreement. But this aspect, it seems, can not be hurried."
Gale appeared, formally attired in robe and crown. “Havoc, you know I can't travel right now! Neither can Symbol. You'll have to settle for something less."
Havoc touched her mind—and burst out laughing. It was Bijou, playing Gale. She was so good at it that she had fooled him for an instant. “I'll settle,” he said.
“Then I think we are ready,” Chief said.
“Complication,” Havoc said. “If that is the real crown, I can't touch her."
“It is real,” Bijou said. “Question?"
“My new nature conflicts with the crown's magic."
“I can remove it in private."
“Experiment,” Chief said. “Ascertain the limits."
Havoc approached the girl and took her hand. There was a tingle. He moved into a slow embrace. The tingle intensified. He made as if to kiss her—and was repulsed. “It's like an ikon,” he said. “Resistance increases as I get close."
“Sufficient leeway for public display,” Chief said. “Can you carry her?"
They tried. It turned out to be possible if Bijou removed the crown and held it out from their bodies. That would have to do.
Bijou took Havoc's arm, walking a bit apart from him, and they made a regal exit, followed by Chief and Throe. The news was proclaimed that the king was making an official journey to handle an affair of state. A retinue of servants of several types appeared; the king never went out alone. They descended to the water floor, marched to the ferry, and crossed to the outer city. People had assembled as if by magic—impossible in this nonChroma zone—to line the road on either side.
Havoc hated it. He remained a village man, accustomed to knowing everyone in the community, and being the object of cynosure only when he was conducting a class in martial arts. Being stared at simply because he wore a crown was ridiculous. He didn't recognize any of the faces, and they surely knew little about him that was not crafted for their attention. He felt like a circus freak.
Havoc, smile at that little girl, Bijou thought, indicating the direction in her mind.
He dutifully turned to smile at the child. She reacted as if blown back by a gust of wind, awed.
You have to be king, Bijou thought. They have to be in awe of you. It's the system.
Havoc made a mental picture of a sausage labeled SYSTEM being rammed into an enormous and rather messy rectum.
Bijou tried to maintain a straight face, but lost it, and had to cough into her hand. Chief and Throe, walking behind them, picked up the image and had similar problems. “Sometimes it's fun serving a barbarian,” Chief murmured to Throe, just loud enough for Havoc and Bijou to hear.
There was a royal coach waiting, drawn by six legged horses. Throe stepped up to assist the king and queen's entry, then joined them inside. The coach moved out at a brisk pace, leaving the gawkers behind. The formalities had been completed.
They reached the southeast campsite at the edge of the Brown Chroma zone. Huge brown golems came to pick up the royal coach. Airborne, it moved swiftly on into the Brown zone.
“We have a dull trip of two days and nights,” Chief announced. “I can acquaint Havoc with the details of the mission."
“Which will put him to sleep,” Bijou said. “If you two men were not here, I could entertain Havoc in better style.” She removed her crown, signaling her intention.
“Doubt,” Chief said. “But I would like to see you try."
“Ch
allenge.” She turned to Havoc, oriented on his face, and slowly approached for a kiss. Havoc did not move, satisfied to have her explore the limits. Her lips stopped just short of his. She struggled to complete the contact, and finally did touch him.
And fell back, swooning.
“Confirmation,” Chief said. “She'll be needing practice."
Throe, seated opposite the girl, learned forward and took her gently by the shoulders. “Lady,” he said, as if concerned about the fainting spell. “Lady Gale."
She stirred, woozy. “Where?"
He gave her a miniature shake. You are Lady Gale. “Are you well, Lady?"
She remembered. “Yes, thank you, bodyguard. Is the king well?"
“Unscathed,” Havoc said.
Bijou glanced around. “We are private?"
“Agreement,” Chief said. “But unsafe to assume we will always be."
“I kissed him and was stunned?"
“Affirmation."
“We can't have that happen in public—or in private when others may be spying on us."
“Affirmation,” Chief repeated.
“So now is the time to figure it out, with only those who know the secrets present.” She meant that she was not really the queen, and that Havoc was a Glamor.
“We won't tell,” Throe said with a smile.
“I need to imagine that you're someone else,” she said to Havoc. “I'm already someone else. May I try again?"
“How can the king deny the queen?” There was reason behind this game, but Havoc liked the game.
“I am the queen,” she said firmly. “You are a sexy barbarian. You—” She broke off. “Plea: remove the crown."
Havoc obliged, so that she could better pretend he was not the king. It was its symbolism rather than its magic that interfered with her pretense, in contrast to the effect her crown had on him.
“The queen would not cheat on the king,” Throe said.
“They are traveling,” Chief said. “No fault."
“Still, she's the queen."
Chief nodded. “Put your crown out of sight, Lady. You are traveling incognito."
Bijou smiled. “You boys are really getting into it, aren't you. Are you trying to be helpful, or merely voyeurs?"