Currant Events

  "Another problem?"

  "The dragons may not want to come to Xanth. You will have to persuade a sufficient number."

  "Persuade dragons to travel! I would more likely persuade the first one to consume me with ketchup."

  "Your talent should suffice."

  Clio got another glimmer. It was true that her magic talent was likely to be useful on such a dangerous world. So it was barely possible that she was an adequate choice for such a preposterous mission. "Persuade dragons to emigrate from their world, and immigrate here. How many would be appropriate?"

  "Five breeding pairs of each type should suffice."

  "Five breeding pairs! Each type!" This was becoming less feasible by the moment, as there were several types of dragons: fire breathers, smokers, steamers; flying, swimming, landbound. That was sixty dragons right there. "Anything else?"

  "Yes. Do it within the week."

  "Within the week," she agreed. "And is that quite all?"

  "Almost. There are a number of varieties, so it will be necessary to move rapidly."

  It had been a rhetorical, ironic question, but that nuance had evidently been lost on him. "And if I fail to accomplish this Service within the specified time?"

  "That would be unfortunate."

  He was impossible. "Yield me this much: a suggestion how to proceed on this unlikely mission."

  "I am unable to do that, other than this: fix the concept Dragon World in your mind as you go. That will take you there."

  "And when I get to this—this world of dragons—what do I do then? I can't even speak their language."

  "Some are telepathic. That should help."

  "That should help them zero in on me to chomp."

  "True. You may need to think dragon thoughts, so they don't realize you are edible."

  This was beyond fantastic. "So I fool them into not recognizing my edible nature. That remains a far cry from persuading any of them to emigrate."

  "The compass will guide you to assistance."

  "Compass?"

  "Extend your left wrist."

  Thoroughly bemused, she did so. He touched her wrist with his gnarly fingers. A circular design appeared there, with two little colored arrows in the center and a bright mark on the circle.

  She looked at it. "How should I interpret this decoration?"

  "The blue arrow points to your destination. The red one indicates your remaining time. Don't be late."

  "Late for what?"

  But his attention had returned to his page. He had tuned her out.

  Wira appeared. "It is time for you to go."

  "Time to go! I haven't even assimilated the magnitude of the task!"

  "Please. He gets grumpy when kept from his business."

  Clio found herself ushered out of the study and down the winding stone stairs. Her head seemed to be spinning. She had decided to trust Humfrey enough to go along with his demand for a Service, but it had turned out to be preposterously impractical. And for what? For the news that she needed a magic red berry to read her own book. If Humfrey had not lost all his wits, surely he had mislaid some of them.

  "You look bemused," Dara remarked downstairs.

  "Worse. I'm bewildered, befuddled, and benighted. I am one bemused Muse. I need help."

  "What kind of help?"

  "Help to persuade dragons to move to Xanth."

  Dara considered. "Maybe Becka Dragongirl."

  It was like a bulb flashing over their heads. "Yes! She should have some idea how to talk to dragons."

  "I'll call her." Dara floated to a magic mirror. "Becka, please."

  The mirror flickered. In a moment a young woman's face appeared. She had blonde hair and brown eyes. "Hello, Dara. How are things with His Grumpiness?"

  "He's pulled another marvel. Clio, the Muse of History, has to persuade dragons to immigrate."

  "Wonderful! I was afraid he wouldn't take the problem seriously."

  "You knew?" Clio asked.

  "I told him about it. Daddy Draco told me the dragons are dying of incompatibility and may soon be gone, and he's feeling none too spry himself. The prey is overrunning Xanth. I'm trying to do my part, but I'm sick of eating crow. I'm so glad the Good Magician decided to do something about it."

  "But I don't know anything about dragons!" Clio said.

  "Fortunately, I do. Do you want my help?"

  "Yes!"

  "Then come on over and we'll discuss it." Becka faded out, and the mirror became reflective again.

  Clio looked around. "I'm not sure how to—"

  "I'll take you," Dara said.

  "Thank you." Things were moving quickly, which was just as well.

  The demoness put a hand on Clio's arm. There was a dizzy swirl. Then they were in another castle.

  Becka stepped into the chamber. "Ah, there you are. I'm so glad to meet you, Muse."

  "Call me Clio," Clio said as they shook hands.

  "Is there anyone else to notify?" Dara asked.

  "How about Che Centaur?" Becka asked. "He's another winged monster, and very persuasive; dragons will listen to him, and all winged monsters are sworn to protect him. He could also carry you while talking to you, which is more than I can do; my dragon mouth isn't good for human talk."

  "On my way," Dara said, and vanished.

  Clio looked around. There was a mirror on the wall, probably the one Becka had used to communicate with Dara. It was flashing pictures: a black man, a volcano, an evil-looking sorceress, a horrific demon, and a garden. "Oh—this must be Rorrim, the mirror that shows alternate futures."

  "Yes. I'm keeping him for Umlaut. But it's hard to interpret his images unless you make a deal with him."

  Clio shrugged. "I have already made one deal too many, I suspect."

  "Do you know where there are more dragons?" Becka asked.

  "It seems here is an entire world devoted to dragons. One of Princess Ida's moons."

  "Now that makes sense. But they may not be eager to move."

  "That is one of my concerns."

  "Still, new hunting grounds should appeal. Game is good in Xanth. Too good, in fact."

  Clio did not need to inquire how she knew. "Apart from everything else, there will be a problem traveling to Xanth, as the folk on Ida's moons are mere fragments of souls rather than physical entities. They can't just come here; they would be mere wisps."

  "That's true," Becka said. "I hadn't thought of that. Maybe Che will have an answer."

  Soon Dara brought the centaur. "How could you carry a person much bigger than you are?" Clio asked, surprised.

  "I made myself very light," Che explained. "Greetings, Muse, Becka."

  That reminded Clio of something. "You associate with Cynthia Centaur. She was once a human girl, but was transformed by Magician Trent to winged centaur form."

  "Which was fortunate for me," Che agreed. "She's a wonderful filly."

  "Originally she did not use the lightening magic to make herself light enough to fly, the way you do. Yet the last time I wrote of her, in the episode of the Swell Foop, she was using that magic. How was that possible?"

  Che smiled. "Magician Trent transformed her into a roc bird, then back to winged centaur, absentmindedly using the other template. Thereafter she had the lightening magic, though it took her some time to realize it."

  "Ah, yes," Clio agreed. "Now I see it. I like to understand things when I write the histories, and that one slipped by me."

  "It is understandably confusing," Che agreed. "I'm told you need me to relate to dragons."

  "Yes. We need to persuade them to move to Xanth. But we have what may be a more immediate problem: how to transport dragons from a Moon of Ida to Xanth. It seems the Xanth dragons are doomed."

  Che considered. He was a handsome young stallion of nineteen, the same age as Becka. He was also very smart. He had to be, because he was the tutor for Sim Bird, the Simurgh's chick, who was destined to know everything in the universe, in due course. "This is true. There is
a malady going around that infects dragons without souls. Since those of the moon will have souls, by definition, they will be immune."

  "So my father Draco is at risk, and I'm not," Becka said, looking half relieved.

  "True. Your human portion provides you with a soul. He may be saved by the infusion of a soul from a souled dragon, however."

  "I'll talk him into it."

  "Nevertheless, there will have to be new bodies here for the majority of them to occupy. This is not straightforward, because folk existing here are not eager to give up their bodies."

  "They can do that?" Becka asked.

  "Yes. The process is called morphing. When an existing character is ready to fade away, he or she can morph into an animate blob. Then a theoretical character from Ptero or beyond can animate that blob, giving it the new semblance, and the new character exists. But very few Xanth characters care to undergo this process; all cling to the hope that there may be some great future adventure awaiting them. So it's not a viable procedure for wholesale replacement of dragons."

  Clio was starting to feel desperate. "Is there any other way?"

  "There should be. Perhaps these bodies can be crafted from organic material, such as swamp peat or topsoil."

  Clio liked the way his mind worked. "Is this a thing you might arrange, while we go to that dragon world?"

  "I could make the effort," Che agreed. "This would seem to be a problem that needs to be addressed."

  "Then perhaps we should leave that to you," Clio said. "While we go to Dragon World."

  "Agreed. There is certainly a pressing need for more dragons. I had not before properly appreciated the role of such predators in Xanth."

  "Then it is up to me to carry you after all," Becka said. "Come outside where I can change."

  They exited Castle MaiDragon, and the girl transformed into a full-sized dragon with bright green scales tinged with purple at the ends. The wings were like those of an insect, with sparkling facets. Overall, a pretty creature.

  Clio climbed onto the dragon's back. She would have been reluctant to do so, had she not talked with the girl and seen the transformation. Also, she had written about Becka in prior volumes, so knew she could be trusted.

  The dragon flapped her wings, at first slowly, then more rapidly, until they fairly buzzed. She slid forward, then lifted from the ground. Clio clung to the scales of the back as the wind rushed by her body and tore at her dress.

  Becka spiraled upward until she cleared the treetops. Then she flew toward Castle Roogna. The ground passed below, with seeming slowness, but Clio knew they were moving rapidly.

  There was a cloud ahead. For a moment Clio was afraid it was Fracto, who usually meant trouble, but this turned out to be an innocuous white puffball. It was being harassed by crows. They passed it by fast enough to scatter the crows and stroked on. Then there was another large flying creature, a griffin, with the head and wings of a bird and body of a lion. It veered to intercept them, but Becka let out a warning hiss and the griffin changed its mind. It was not being mobbed by crows, for it was a crow predator. But there were clearly not enough griffins to fill the role of the dragons.

  Clio was coming to appreciate working with a dragon girl. Transportation and protection—these were worthwhile.

  The castle came into sight. The dragon glided down and landed just beyond the moat. The moat monster's head lifted, spying them.

  "Hello, Soufflé," Clio called. "Do you recognize us?"

  Soufflé did. He sniffed noses with Becka Dragon, then sank back under the water as Becka reverted to Girl mode.

  "I admired the way you backed off those flying predators," Clio said. "You intimidated them."

  "I learned that long ago from my friend Bortre. She could intimidate anything, even objects, when she wanted to."

  "Friends can be beneficial," Clio agreed, realizing that she had very few friends herself. Her position as the Muse of History tended to isolate her.

  "And fun," Becka agreed. "I have another friend called Toney Harper. That's tone-y. He makes evocative music with his harp. When he makes tones of romance, everyone within earshot gets all goo-goo eyes. But the tone of danger brings all manner of danger out of the woodwork. A happy tone makes folk dance; a sad one makes them weep. Toney is great at a party."

  "I can imagine." But she couldn't, really; Clio had never been to such a party. She hadn't been out in Xanth proper in some time; she feared she was missing things she might have liked to experience.

  They walked toward the drawbridge. Three girls appeared on it, wearing three little crowns. They were the triplet Princesses, eight years old, all of them Sorceresses and full of mischief. Because of their magic power, it could be considerable mischief. Clio knew them rather better than they knew her. What was the best way to handle this?

  "Hi, Becka," Melody called. "Who's your friend?" She was the one in the green dress, with greenish hair and blue eyes. She always spoke first.

  Becka looked at Clio questioningly. Clio nodded; it was all right to identify her. The information couldn't be concealed from these girls anyway.

  They had paused too long. "We already know," Harmony said. She was the one in the brown dress, with brown hair and eyes, and a harmonica.

  "It's Clio, the Muse of History," Rhythm concluded. Her dress was red, as was her hair, but her eyes were green. Clio was not sure why Melody hadn't gotten the green eyes, to match the rest of her; the storks might have gotten confused. She carried a little drum.

  "Hello, Princesses," Clio said.

  The three froze momentarily in place, abashed. But the mood passed in exactly its moment, and they resumed animation.

  "Hello, Clio," Melody said.

  "We're glad to meet you," Harmony agreed.

  "What are you doing here?" Rhythm asked.

  "I have to fetch some dragons," Clio said.

  "Dragons!" Melody exclaimed.

  "Why?" Harmony asked.

  "Did they do something wrong?" Rhythm asked.

  "Dragons are going extinct," Becka explained. "Because they don't have souls. We need to replace them with souled dragons."

  The girls considered half a moment.

  "Can we help?" Melody asked.

  Clio hadn't considered that, but realized that they might indeed be able to help. Any single princess was a full Sorceress; any two squared their power, and the three together cubed it. That was a lot of magic. "Actually, Che Centaur is arranging for host bodies for them here. That may be a big job. He could surely use your help."

  "Che!" Harmony said gladly.

  The three vanished, leaving behind only a word from Rhythm: "Bye."

  "You handled that neatly," Becka said.

  "I was lucky." It was the truth.

  They entered the castle. Princess Ida came up to meet them. She resembled Princess Ivy, the triplet's mother, but was immediately identifiable by the little moon orbiting her head. "Dara said you would be coming."

  "We need to go to Dragon World," Clio said.

  "That is not safe."

  "It seems the Good Magician felt I was the appropriate person for it. Becka should be helpful there."

  Ida nodded. "That is true. And of course if you get chomped there, you will merely return here. Still, it would be an unpleasant experience. Are you sure this excursion is necessary?"

  "I am not at all sure," Clio confessed. "And I'm not partial to dragons to begin with, present company excepted. But it seems this is a thing I must attempt."

  "I think the Good Magician has lost it," Becka said. "But this isn't my mission; I'm just helping because I want to save the dragons."

  "It is true that the dragon population has been declining," Ida said. "Something needs to be done. Let's hope that this is it."

  They went to Ida's office, where they reviewed the mechanism for traveling to the moons. Clio reminded herself to focus on Dragon World, so as to be transported directly there; she didn't want to struggle with the confusing time schemes of planet Pter
o.

  They lay on couches, and Princess Ida gave them sniffs from a vial. Soon they left their bodies behind and floated up toward Ida's moon Ptero. Clio took Becka's hand and concentrated on Dragon World.

  Their souls accelerated toward the looming world. It seemed to be getting larger, but actually they were getting smaller. They zipped down to its surface, for it no longer resembled a tiny moon; it was a giant planet. They came down by Castle Roogna, recognizable because it was the same as the one on Xanth. They flew into it, and into the chamber where Princess Ida stayed, with her pyramidal moon.

  They did not pause to greet her; they zoomed right up to the moon, which seemed to expand enormously. Each triangular face of it was a different color: blue, red, green, and gray on the bottom. They descended on the blue section, and flew to the modest house where its Princess Ida resided with her doughnut-shaped moon, more properly known as Torus. On its curving inner surface, on an island in a sea, was yet another Princess Ida, with her moon Cone.

  After that, the route fuzzed in her mind. There seemed to be an endless chain of worlds and Idas and worlds. Of course she had written about them before, as she recorded the histories of significant people in Xanth. The most recent one, Cube, had traveled all the way to Zombie World. But viewing and hearing it in her crystal ball, however much it seemed to put her in the scene, hardly compared to actually being there. Experience was far more intense than observation.

  Suddenly, after an endless age, they were homing in on Dragon World. There was no doubt about it, because it was shaped like a dragon. It was serpentine, with six legs, a long tail, and a ferocious head. The dragon's teeth were chomping its own tail, so that the world formed a twisted irregular ring, with the feet in the center, like spokes.

  Now she had to depend on her own discretion, which she hardly trusted. Her thought of Dragon World had brought them to it, but where on it were they supposed to land? Where was the destination on this world?

  She remembered the compass. She looked at the pattern on her wrist. The blue arrow's position had changed; indeed it was changing as she moved her wrist. It was orienting on its target. All she had to do was go where it pointed. She hoped.

  It pointed at the planetary dragon's fearsome head. True, that head was clamping to the tail, so was unlikely to bite a visitor on short notice, but Clio would have preferred some other site.