Currant Events

  Her eyes narrowed with calculation. She evidently had a notion how to compete for love. "Trade what for what help?"

  "We need to go to Castle Roogna."

  "That's fifteen years To."

  Clio remembered that To was their way of saying the future; the past was From.

  "Yes. So we need help getting there efficiently. If you can tell us how to do it, I'll give you a kiss."

  Could this possibly work? Clio wondered if Sherlock's common sense had been altered along with his love.

  "Three kisses. There are three of you."

  She was going for it!

  "A kiss and a hug. One's a child."

  "A kiss, a hug, and a caress."

  "Done."

  They stood at the edge of the comic strip, and he reached inside, she outside, for the hug. Their faces came together for the kiss. Her hand squeezed his rear.

  "That's not a caress," Ciriana said. "That's a feel."

  Oops—the child's immunity to the Adult Conspiracy was manifesting again. Clio realized that it was like Zaven's zombie-restoring effect: it lasted only in his vicinity. Sherlock had reversed the child's immunity with reverse wood, but when she got too far from him, it came back. This was an unfortunate complication; how were they ever going to find a suitable home for her?

  The two completed the hug, kiss, and whatever, and separated. Annie seemed dazed; it seemed she really liked Sherlock's attention. Clio could appreciate that. Then Annie disappeared.

  "So what did you accomplish?" Clio asked, trying not to be cutting, as she wasn't that kind of person.

  "She's fetching a step ladder."

  "A what?"

  "It's a pun, of course. A ladder that steps."

  "A step ladder," Clio agreed. "What good will that be to us?"

  "Puns can have more than one interpretation."

  She let it be. Either the thing would help, or it wouldn't. Would Annie Mae really enable Sherlock to go far away with another woman, or had she simply stolen a kiss?

  The ladder appeared. It was standing up and walking by twisting so that one side advanced while the other held the ground. It was a highly wavy walk, but it was making progress. It came to the edge of the comic strip and stopped, mostly out of it.

  "The ladder will step you to the comic strip closest to Castle Roogna," Annie said. "Just step from this side to that side."

  "Thank you," Sherlock said.

  "If your true love ever dumps you, you know where to find me," Annie said somewhat wistfully. "Just come to the edge of Sunset Strip and say my name."

  "I don't think she'll dump me," he said. "But I will keep you in mind."

  "Will this really work?" Clio asked.

  "Yes, it will," Drew said. "We read Annie's mind. Sherlock reversed her attitude, so that instead of leading us into mischief she's helping."

  "Sherlock is accomplishing a lot," Clio remarked, mostly to herself.

  Sherlock stepped onto the ladder on the strip side. He climbed to the top, worked his way over to the other side, and disappeared.

  "He's out of range," Drew said. "It stepped him there."

  "Your turn, dear," Clio said.

  "$$$$," the child replied. Yes, Sherlock was out of range. She climbed and went over, and vanished.

  Clio mounted the ladder. It was awkward, but she made it over to the other side. Nothing happened.

  She looked around—and there were Sherlock and a mature young woman. Where had she come from? "How did you get back here?"

  Both laughed. "We didn't. You came here," Sherlock said. "See, there's Castle Roogna." He gestured.

  She looked. There was the castle. They were at the edge of a different strip. But she still didn't see Ciriana. "Where's the child?"

  "I'm Ciriana," the young woman said. "I'm twenty. We moved west, remember?"

  She had aged fifteen years in one step! "I forgot," Clio confessed. "Are you all right? I mean, aging so suddenly must be confusing." Certainly to Clio, if not to Ciriana herself.

  "No problem. And now the Adult Conspiracy is irrelevant. I'm Old Enough." She glanced sidelong at Sherlock.

  Clio wasn't quite satisfied with this, but thought it best not to argue the case at the moment. "Very well."

  "And I do know better, now, than to speak those forbidden words intemperately. I appreciate why they must be kept from children; a person must achieve judgment before power. That is even more true in the case of summoning the stork. Not that I have any immediate plans in that respect. First I shall have to find a good man." Her eyes made half a flick toward Sherlock.

  "Let's get on with the mission," Clio said. What was this appeal Sherlock seemed to have for women? The women of the Acquaintance Ship wanted to tempt him there for his soul, but since then other women had been rather obviously attracted to him, including even the Sorceress Morgan le Fay. And of course Clio herself. What had changed?

  A dusky young woman approached. "Hello. I'm Kia. My talent is making rain. Does this area need it?"

  Clio introduced herself and the others. "It does seem somewhat dry here," she said, looking around. There were bushes and trees, but they were looking thirsty.

  "I'll fix that," Kia said. She lifted one hand, and rain began to fall around her. There was no storm, merely a gentle falling from above.

  "Perhaps we had better move on before we get wet," Sherlock said.

  "Nice meeting you, Kia," Ciriana called as they walked away. The young woman was now standing in a fairly solid, silent shower. The vegetation seemed to appreciate it.

  The blue arrow pointed toward the castle, which looked just like the one in Xanth. They walked there, and saw Soufflé the moat monster. He recognized Clio, whose appearance had not changed much, and Sherlock, who now looked to be at the verge of the farther side of middle age, but not Ciriana. But he accepted Clio's vouch for her.

  A Princess appeared, full grown at age twenty-three, accompanied by a green man. She had a brown dress, hair, and eyes. "Hello, Clio. Still on your mission to find the red berry?"

  "I am, Harmony. I think I have another session with Princess Ida."

  "She is expecting you." Harmony looked at Sherlock. "Hello again, Magician."

  "I'm not a—"

  "And Ciriana. I remember you from when you were five. You were so cute! But that word!"

  "I was immune to the Adult Conspiracy. Reverse wood helped stifle it, but it seems I also had to be close to Daddy. His chips seem to lose their power away from him."

  Was that really the explanation, Clio wondered? Then what of Getaway and Comealong Golem? They hadn't seemed to be at a disadvantage away from Sherlock.

  "We were caught off guard," Harmony said. "We didn't know how to handle it." She glanced sidelong at Sherlock. "I wish you had had the wit to be delivered into my generation."

  He laughed. "I never was much of a wit."

  Clio was fit to be stifled. Yet another curvy young woman playing up to Sherlock, and this one a princess, yet, in the presence of her evident boyfriend.

  "Oh, I am being unprincessly impolite," Harmony said. "This is Borealis. He is destined to be the man for Aurora, the winged mermaid. She was once a blob too."

  "A blob?" Clio asked, looking more carefully at the green man.

  "I am from a planet made of green goo, some distance up the line," Borealis said. He held up one hand, and it melted into goo. "All creatures there are goo. Fortunately we have the ability to shape ourselves as we wish. When I decided to travel, I assumed the form of a human man. Princess Harmony has been coaching me. When I am manlike enough, I hope to go to Xanth and assume the form of a winged merman, so I can be with Aurora. It seems destined."

  Clio remembered how Aurora had come from the world of Cone and occupied a blob in Xanth, shaping it into winged mermaid form.

  There were not many of her species. She surely would appreciate a winged merman. "Many dragons have gone from Dragon World to Xanth, animating organic material; you may be able to do the same."

&nbs
p; "I am glad to know that," Borealis said.

  "But we still need to work on color," Harmony said. "And you'll have to assume the form and practice flying."

  "I will, I will," he agreed. They moved off.

  They reached Princess Ida's room. There were more amenities. Then they were back on their way along the chain of worlds. The blue arrow facilitated it, so they hardly seemed to stop at individual Idas. They passed a planet-sized blob of green goo; Clio had a notion of its nature now, so wasn't concerned by its Princess Ida's gooey greenness. On they moved.

  Until they came to Plane World. This was endlessly wide but shallow, like an infinite pane of glass. They could see through it. On the other side, keeping pace with them, were other people. Beneath Sherlock was a man that resembled him, but seemed somehow arrogant and stupid. Under Ciriana was a woman like her, but looking mean-spirited. And below Clio was a woman like her in outline, but whose bearing was reminiscent of Morgan le Fay.

  "This is weird," Ciriana said.

  "I don't want to seem paranoid," Sherlock said, "but I don't trust this. Where is this Limbo we're looking for?"

  "That's Limo, big Daddy," Ciriana said with half a titter.

  He smiled at her. "Limo bean?"

  Both of them were joking, getting along well with each other. Clio suppressed yet another wash of unkind jealousy. It was not her business.

  Apparently some emotion leaked out, for Ciriana glanced at her. "My heart always belonged to Daddy; you know that. There's no one else like him."

  Clio looked at the compass, but the blue arrow had faded out. Apparently they had arrived where they were supposed to be. But what was the point?

  "Creature approaching," Drew announced.

  It was a huge cat, a virtual panther. Beneath it, on the other side of the glass, ran a young woman. A chip of reverse wood appeared in Sherlock's hand.

  "Female and friendly," Drusie said.

  The big cat bounded to a halt before them, and transformed into a lithe girl. Simultaneously, the young woman below became a big cat. "Hello. I am Satori, a girl-cat crossbreed. I suspect you're confused about this world."

  "We are indeed," Sherlock said. "I am Sherlock, and these are Clio and Ciriana."

  Satori nodded. "I see. So I don't suppose you are interested in another of the female purr-suasion." She delivered a feline glance.

  Another! Clio could hardly stand it.

  "My love is taken," Sherlock agreed. "But we would certainly appreciate learning something about this world."

  "Plane World lacks the kind of scenery other worlds may have—mountains, valleys, seas, if you like that type," Satori said. "But it has its compensation. Beneath each person, on the other side of the plane, is his or her polar opposite. A friendly person has an unfriendly opposite, and vice versa. In my case, my girl and cat forms exchange places. Most folk have little or no actual contact with their opposites, so ignore them."

  "Thank you," Sherlock said. "That alleviates our confusion."

  "You're welcome," Satori said. "Do you plan to stay long? Is there anything I can do for you on an incidental basis?" She turned part way and inhaled.

  "We're looking for Litho," Clio said quickly.

  A look of horror crossed the girl's face. She transformed back into cat form and bounded rapidly away.

  "Something odd here," Sherlock said.

  A shadow fell across them. Then a giant stony manlike creature landed on the plane. "Who invokes my name?" he roared. A similar inverted figure appeared below the pane except that it looked benign.

  This had to be Litho. Clio was cowed, but did her best to conceal it. "I do. I am Clio, and it seems I have business with you."

  "Oh do you!" the mountainous man roared. "I'll crush you like the insignificant mortal worm you are." He took a giant step toward her.

  Sherlock stepped faster, getting between them. "I think not, rock head."

  Litho halted, staring down at him. "Who the nonsense are you, black mortal?"

  "I am Sherlock."

  "Eruption!" Litho swore. "Morgan said you were nullified."

  "Well, I wasn't. Leave this woman alone."

  "What's going on?" Clio asked, baffled.

  "As if you don't know, traitorous wench!" Litho said. "You were supposed to be sent to me helpless, not with a Magician to defend you."

  "What Magician?"

  "I'll be impacted!" Litho said. "She doesn't know."

  "I don't know what?"

  "That Morgan knew she couldn't keep the Magician if she didn't get rid of you. So she nullified him so I could smash you. But he says—" Litho paused. "Oh, I get it! You're bluffing."

  "I am just doing what I have to do," Sherlock said.

  "We'll soon make proof of that." Litho swung his huge granite fist down like a pile driver, right at Sherlock's head.

  Sherlock did not move. Ciriana screamed.

  But when the fist touched Sherlock's head, it shattered. Fragments flew outward. One smacked into Clio's front, stinging her through the cloth. She managed to catch it before it fell. It was just a ragged pebble of no distinction.

  But the blue arrow reappeared, pointing to it. This was what she had come for. So she put it in a pocket.

  Litho stared at his hand, which was gone. "You weren't bluffing."

  "If you are satisfied," Sherlock said, "we'll be satisfied if you simply depart now."

  Litho laughed. It sounded like gas hissing from a mountain vent. "You think you have beaten me, you puny excuse for an entity? Know, O foolish one, that I have not yet begun to brawl." His fist reappeared, as stony as before. "Do you know anything about me?" He moved slowly to the side, as if to get around the man.

  "We really don't," Sherlock said, moving with similar deliberation to remain between Litho and Clio. "And we're not much interested."

  Clio realized that a grim game of maneuvering was occurring. Litho wanted to get at her and destroy her, while Sherlock, amazingly, was preventing it. There was a whole lot more she needed to know about this, especially since this was clearly her Danger of The Day, and her life was at stake. "Yes we are," she said. "What about you?"

  "See, even the stupid woman has more wit than you," Litho said, continuing his sneaky march around the circle. "She wants to know."

  Sherlock shrugged, continuing his countermovement. It seemed that Litho wanted to distract the man for just an instant, so that he could get at her, but Sherlock was not being fooled.

  "Then know, O ignorant hen, that I am the Demon Lithosphere. I was one of the minor Demons of Earth, below the rank of Demon Earth himself, but well above that of the trifling wisps of smoke that call themselves demons today. I was in charge of keeping track of all the rocks and continental plates of the planet. Demon Earth found the lands as seas scattered around the globe, and decreed that some better order should be established. So he set me to pushing all the land together into one big continent called Pangaea. Then he focused on other things, such as the nuisance of pelting rocks from space that pockmarked the surface, and I was left alone to guard the big isle. I got bored and fell asleep, and Pangaea cracked apart and spread back across the globe in ugly fragments. I woke too late to stop it. When Demon Earth discovered this, he was wroth with exceeding wrath, and blasted me into thousands of pieces of D. bris that fell into the neighboring land of Xanth. From these the voles evolved, and maybe other creatures like the goblins; I hardly care. Some of my bones were hurled into the ground of Xanth, where they remain today. But I myself, the essence of me, was cruelly banished to this flat wasteland without tectonic plates, and here I languish until someone helps me to return to the real action."

  "Morgan le Fay promised you that!" Clio exclaimed.

  "That she did. She has a plan to return to real life herself, and said she would take me with her. But first I had to smash the one who stood in her way. Which I am about to do." Litho suddenly dodged back the other way and shot out his arm toward her. One stone finger touched her.

  But Sherl
ock brought his own hand down as quickly. It brushed the demon's arm, and the arm fragmented. A line of sand fell to the pane. The trick had not worked.

  "But she knew I could not do it unless your protection was nullified," Litho continued, his speech and motion coordinating as his arm reformed. "So she said she set out to bind the Magician to her, so that he would not care about you. Evidently she lied, the lady dog."

  "She didn't lie," Sherlock said. "She tricked me into jumping through her spancel."

  Litho laughed like an avalanche crashing into a hapless river. "Her spancel! I thought she lost that ten centuries ago! How did she get that back?"

  "I brought it to her," Clio said.

  Now the laugh was like a detonation of boiling smoke from a volcano. "No foolishness in your family, girl! You've got it all! You brought her weapon to her? Ho ho ho!"

  Clio saw no point in explaining about the blue arrow. "It was hers."

  "So how come you're still balking me?" Litho demanded of Sherlock. "You'll never get close to Morgan unless you do her bidding."

  "I don't love her."

  "But you said you passed through the spancel. Did someone else hold it?"

  "No, she held it. I reversed it."

  Litho was so surprised he paused in his stalking. "Is that possible?"

  "It is for me. I'm the Magician of Reversal."

  Clio began to understand why stray folk had addressed him as Magician, and why women were attracted to him. They had known or sensed his nature, and were drawn to its power. "How did this happen?" she asked, as astonished as Litho.

  "It just developed and got stronger with time and practice. I thought it was merely a talent with reverse wood, but then realized that I wasn't conjuring it, I was making it."

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Clio demanded.

  "Because then Morgan would have known too, and would have found some other way to destroy you. I couldn't risk that."

  "Then what's with Morgan?" Litho asked.

  "I fear she is now in love with me."

  Litho's laugh burst forth like steam from a badly overheated pot the size of a planet. "What a fate!"

  Ciriana spoke. "So whom do you love, Sherlock?"

  "Why Clio, of course. I never stopped."