Assume so. Throe and I note too many maidens present for the occasion, so we suspect the trap is closing. Act normal.
She smiled, appreciating the irony. They were playing parts; real normal would give them away. “My lord, you must be tired. Let me assuage your fatigue."
Of course Havoc wasn't tired; the Glamor power made him indefatigable. “Appreciation, my love.” He disrobed and lay prone on the mat.
“How I treasure those words, my love,” she murmured. She knew he did not love her, but she did love him, and the words sent a thrill through her that touched his mind. She set about massaging him, her hands strong and competent, the legacy of her time as a bath girl. It felt good.
I do not love you as I love Gale, he thought, but I do care for you and value your presence and your touch. Were I free to love another, I would love Symbol, then you.
“Third on the totem,” she murmured. But she was thrilled again; it was a high ranking.
A faint, funny, appealing smell developed. Night blooms?
Havoc, may I beg a favor? Can we interrupt this massage for a fast bout of raw sex?
That suggested that the succubus was on duty. Can you handle it?
Her hands on his back trembled with feeling. Yes.
He was amenable. He turned over as she tore off her negligee. “Answer to my desire, my love,” he said for the benefit of any listeners.
Bijou flung herself down on him full length, kissing him avidly. It was true; she was handling the proximity better than before. Don't wait! she thought urgently.
He was ready. He positioned himself and came at her slowly, giving her the chance to demur, but she didn't. As his member touched her cleft and found the hot wet place she stiffened, clenched her teeth, and sucked in a shuddering breath, but then forced herself to relax. Don't stop; I want it more than it hurts me. Don't numb me; I want it fully real.
He nudged cautiously into her, feeling her body and her mind react as though she were being raped, but she held on, enduring it. She did want it, desperately, and to withdraw would be to make her suffer worse. So he continued, sliding deeper in the hot channel, finding the margin between discomfort and desire as her tolerance slowly increased. Think different identities, he reminded her.
She did, and her body relaxed somewhat, enabling him to complete the entry without hurting her as much. Then she kissed him and tightened rhythmically inside, massaging his member, triggering his climax. She screamed through clenched teeth as he jetted into her, then fainted.
Consternation, Swale thought. I pushed her too hard.
He had forgotten the presence of the succubus, though he should have recognized her touch that brought him off. She wanted it. You made it possible.
But it was difficult for me too. Now I know: Glamors are proof against my kind.
He smiled. That's good to know.
Havoc waited a bit, then withdrew. In a moment Bijou woke. “Apology,” she murmured. “I couldn't stay with you for the finish."
“You did well, my love, as always.” Another woman couldn't have tolerated it at all.
I had to. I'll clean up and finish the massage.
No need. I'll give you one.
“My love!” she murmured as his hands kneaded her small muscles. The queen would not expect such reciprocation from the king—at least, not as played by the mock king and queen. Havoc intended to change that.
Bijou melted, physically and mentally, loving his touch. But he had not been at it long before she touched his mind again. Havoc—can you—more sex?
She was ready for another siege already? He could certainly oblige, as Glamors were capable of continuous sex when they chose. “Attend my renewed desire,” he said.
She rolled over, welcoming him. He approached her again, on guard against her reaction to the Glamor diffidence, but it was less than before. Swiftly, she thought.
This is not my doing, Swale thought.
This was unusual. Bijou loved him, but this repeated eagerness for sex was not like her. She liked sex with him because she liked pleasing him; if she could please him without sex, she was glad to do that. Now it was the sex she craved; the raw desire suffused her mind.
Responding to her urgency, he entered fully and climaxed again. This time she managed to retain consciousness. “Glorious!” she gasped.
They broke again, and she resumed massaging him. But soon she wanted sex again.
Something was wrong. What brings this passion? he thought. It is not your normal way.
She paused, considering. Agreement. I feel insatiable. I have never been like this before; it has always been for you rather than for me. Swale says she mistrusts this.
So did he. The odd smell was stronger. Suddenly Havoc caught on. “The aphrodisiac pollen!” he exclaimed. “It must be from night-blooming flowers. We assumed it was merely the fruit that brought on the urge."
“That's it!” she agreed. “But that means that everyone is breathing it."
“And no one is on guard,” he agreed. “It's a neater trap than we figured.” He laid his hands on her and focused. This will abate it for a time.
She nodded. My passion is gone. I didn't know you could do that. I mean, not that way.
He hadn't known either. It was another Glamor power, discovered when invoked. “Stay safe. I must roust Throe, and discover what's happening next.” He was already getting dressed.
“I'll help.” She dived for her own robe.
Havoc doubted that she could do much, but let it be. He left the tent and went to the next one. Throe, he thought strongly.
Awkwardness.
Havoc sent a blast of passion abatement. Freed of the erotic compulsion, Throe disengaged. “Don't leave me!” a woman's voice came. “I'm not nearly satisfied.” Havoc recognized the voice: it was the green girl who had broached Throe before. She had been ready when the urge came, and Throe had not been able to resist her. But Havoc saw from her mind that she had not known this would occur. She had simply been inclined to be in the vicinity.
Throe emerged. “I suddenly had an overwhelming urge. Apology for my neglect."
“Aphrodisiac pollen,” Havoc said tersely. “The thing we came to investigate."
“Trap?"
“Suspicion. Yet how can sex hurt us?” He knew the answer, but wanted verification.
“Distraction. The girls were sent to be sure all men were busy. But what is the threat? I detect no hostile minds near."
“But there is magic,” Havoc said, sensing it. “Fire."
“From the Fire Chroma!"
Havoc extended his awareness. “Perhaps. It is forming a circle around our camp and burning inward."
“Alarm!"
“Fetch Bijou. Cover for me.” Havoc conjured himself to the palace at Triumph City. He knew that Bijou would act queenly, pretending that Havoc was close by, and Throe would rouse the camp to the extent possible.
Ennui jumped as he appeared before her. “Havoc!"
“We are in the trap. Fire—too much for me to douse. Tell the Glamors.” He returned to the camp.
It was already in near chaos. The erotic aroma remained, but now the fire was evident, and that was a marvelous aid for concentration. The Chroma girls, appreciating the danger, were vanishing, literally; this was a Chroma zone, and they could do their magic. The men of the king's retinue were lurching into their clothing and forming a ragged formation for Throe to direct.
The Black Glamor appeared beside Havoc. “Preference?"
“That my accession remain anonymous. This is Glamor business. Douse the fire."
“Granted.” The Black Glamor vanished.
Satisfied that the matter would be handled, Havoc used the distraction of the crisis to make his own investigation. He conjured himself to the outer edge of the fire, making himself invisible and inaudible. He extended his awareness, searching for hostile minds.
There was nothing. Magic had started and shaped the circular fire, but the source of that magic was gone without
trace.
So they had sprung the trap, but hadn't identified the source of it. It was clear that neither the Yellow nor the Green zones had devised this plot; they were only now becoming aware of the fire, and were hurrying to help douse it.
There was nothing to do except conjure himself to their prior campsite and exchange the crowns for the real ones, so that their enemy would think the plot had fouled up and their crowns had protected them long enough for the Glamors to come.
He conjured himself to his tent. “Give me your crown.” He shared his plan with Bijou mentally.
Can you put tracers on them? she thought. So you'll know who collects them.
He looked at her. “Brace yourself.” Then he kissed her. Great idea.
Braced, she withstood the impact of the kiss, thrilled. But she had another thought: You can't handle my real crown.
She was right. “It's good one of us has common sense,” he muttered.
But you can take me there, and I'll take it and hide it for me to recover on our return trip.
He kissed her again. Then he embraced her and conjured them both to the other campsite.
No one was in the room, and the two crowns remained where they had been left. He impressed the two they were wearing with a finder signal—another abruptly discovered Glamor ability—and exchanged his crown while Bijou exchanged hers. Then she took hers outside and hid it in the thick foliage of a nearby tree. He conjured them back to the fire, where they hadn't been missed.
“Tomorrow I will declare the pollen too dangerous to be left to the Chroma,” he said. “It will be reserved for disposition by the crown."
Bijou smiled. “You had decided to do that anyway."
“I needed a pretext. After what happened here, both zones will not peep protest."
“My Lord, I love you."
She was speaking as the queen, but she meant it for herself too.
“We may travel again soon.” Because with both Gale and Symbol occupied with the babies, Bijou would have to emulate the queen again for any formal excursion.
“I love traveling with you."
So do I Swale thought.
He kissed them both with one kiss. Then they had to get to work sorting out the chaos of the camp.
* * * *
Gale was glad to return to the palace, for once. The session with the invisible Chroma family had really helped, and the babies were already better behaved. Innate had drilled them in certain simple words that they recognized and responded to, and schooled Gale and Symbol in others they could learn. Mostly it was a matter of anticipating likely mischief and avoiding it.
Ennui, she thought. We're back. Initiative—Ini of the Invisible Chroma—is with us.
Apology, Ennui replied immediately. I was weaving and didn't realize. I will be with you shortly.
“I don't wish to be any trouble,” Ini said. She was now invisible, because her body was in its natural state while she had lost her magic ability to make herself visible. She was familiar with the problem, having visited here before, but it remained an awkward adjustment.
Gale smiled. “We can use the help with the babies.” She saw that Ini was dubious; her mind showed it. “You don't have to nurse them. Can you change a diaper?"
“Acquiescence,” Ini said, relieved. Two of her sisters had been happy to nurse babies, but Ini was different, and of course lacked both her Chroma magic and a nursing amulet.
Swale popped in. That girl is really trying she reported. She has learned to kiss him, and got his hand on her throbbing left breast.
“I'm so glad to know that,” Gale said wryly.
I let her try it alone last night, but she couldn't do it. Tonight I'll help her score. The succubus thought came through with a certain hearty zest. Sex was most of her life.
“What about the mission?” Symbol asked.
“They're walking into a trap,” the succubus said with Gale's mouth. “Havoc wants to spring it."
“He would,” Gale muttered. Actually Ennui had already advised her of this.
I must return to duty. Parting.
“Parting,” Gale and Symbol said together.
“Is there something I don't understand?” Ini asked.
“Gale tamed a succubus,” Symbol explained. “She acts as a liaison, entering one of our bodies and communicating."
“A succubus! Concern."
“This one can be trusted,” Gale said. “You'll surely meet her, in due course. Her name is Swale. Her brother sometimes emulates Havoc, pretending to be king, when Havoc is away anonymously."
“Understanding."
The babies woke and began fussing. Gale and Symbol hastened to pick them up. They were wet, so there was immediate use for Ini. She tackled the third baby, Flame, who was not alarmed by being invisibly handled; it was touch she reacted to. But it was evident that Ini wasn't good at this. Her invisible hands were clumsy, and the diaper was far from tight. Flame fussed, and made as if to start a fire.
“No,” Gale said. That was one of the words: don't do what you're about to. Innate had emphasized it with projected disorientation that the baby found unpleasant, so the lesson had quickly taken. Gale had learned how to do the disorientation, but hoped she wouldn't need to. She was in luck. This time.
Ennui knocked, then entered. “Success?"
“We now have a much better notion,” Gale said, nursing Warp. He was floating, but that took his weight off her, so she let it be. “We should be able to manage.” She glanced at Ini. “Ini will be staying with us for a time. Can you establish her in her own room?"
“Affirmation.” Ennui led Ini from the room. Gale knew she would get the Invisible Chroma woman established and oriented. Ini would have to don nonChroma clothing, because her own was invisible.
“You know, we'll have to tell the populace some time,” Symbol said. “Three babies can't be concealed forever."
“I prefer to get comfortable with them first. For one thing, I'd rather have their magic powers not be known. Most folk think magic is impossible in a nonChroma zone without a magic gemstone."
“Maybe we should give them little stones,” Symbol suggested. “They don't have to be magic; they just have to look as if they could account for the magic the babies do."
“I like it! I'll make them up as soon as the babies are asleep again."
Symbol continued to ponder. “I wonder about the babies being little Glamors. Shouldn't they have ikons?"
Gale's mouth fell open. “Astonishment! You're right! Only Glamors can do magic on their own in nonChroma zones, and they all have ikons. The ikons collect the magic and transmit it to the Glamors so they can go anywhere, as long as the ikons remain in their home Chroma. We can't do magic without the ikons—and the babies must be the same."
“Which means their ikons are lying around somewhere, unrecognized. Hadn't we better find them?"
“Yes!” Gale was almost bewildered by the realization. “Bafflement. How to proceed?"
“That invisible sister you picked up, Ini—I understand she's quite intelligent."
“And we need a smart mind to figure this out,” Gale agreed. She send a mental thought: Ennui! Send Ini here.
Acquiescence.
Gale set Warp in his crib and picked up Weft, who had been content to wait her turn. The babies’ manners had improved significantly since their stay with Innate. It was evident that the babies had not before encountered parents with complete magic, and had learned limits in a hurry. Weft started nursing on the other breast.
Symbol was still nursing Flame, who took more time about it. She was accustomed to Symbol's invisible breast, and seemed to be the most sociable of the babies. “We shall have to nurse different babies on occasion,” Symbol said. “So that all are used to either of us."
“Agreement.” But for the present, it was convenient to leave Flame with the Invisible Chroma woman.
Soon Ini returned. She was now completely swathed by visible clothing, and wore a veil to clarify the outline
s of her face. “Problem?"
Gale explained their revelation about the babies’ ikons. “You're the smartest woman we know; how do you see it?"
“Challenge.” Ini considered briefly. “If they are Glamors, and have ikons, they must have constituencies. What ones are available?"
That set both Gale and Symbol back. “I thought all were accounted for,” Symbol said.
“No, the pattern of the threads suggested that there should be eighteen Glamors” Gale said. “We have accounted for fourteen."
“Then these babies could be three of them,” Ini said.
“But how can a baby be a Glamor?” Gale asked. “These ones merely have spot talents, not full Glamor powers."
“They have limited powers because they are babies. As they grow they may develop other powers. Is there any age limit for ascension to Glamor status?"
Gale exchanged a glance with Symbol, their minds similarly daunted. Ini was surely correct; it explained much.
“So they have constituencies,” Gale said. “We shall have to figure out what's left. Their ikons will surely reflect them."
“So if we find the ikons, we'll know their constituencies,” Symbol said. “And if we knew their constituencies, we would know what ikons to look for.” She rolled her eyes. The effect was not visible, but her mind reflected it.
“I think we must first identify the constituencies,” Ini said. “If we list all the ones we know of, we should be able to identify the others by elimination."
They reviewed the list, in order of the number of legs, beginning with the demons, who had no legs, and following with the worms or dragons, with one leg. Then on through fish with two fins, birds with three wings, humans with four limbs, insects with five, vertebrates with six, spiders with seven, plants and trees with eight roots, the sphinx with nine limbs, the mollusks with ten tentacles, the millipedes with a hundred, Gale's own mosses with a thousand, and the saprophytes with ten thousand.
“So the logical continuation would be a hundred thousand,” Ini said. “A million, ten million, and a hundred million."
“That's a lot of legs,” Gale said weakly.
“It may be a convention of convenience, rather than literal,” Ini said. “Consider an amoeba: it extends pseudopodia as it chooses, and shuts them down again. So it could be considered to have any number."