"A grapefruit," the dragon said.
"Actually it's a smaller variant."
"A lemon. But that's a bad thing."
"Oh, the fruit is sour, but not bad in that sense."
Then the dragon got it. "Lemonade! Lemon aide."
She had it. The score was 3 to 3.
The dragon formed a picture of a very nice looking little plant. A human person walked past, and it reached out a vine to stroke the person's leg. The person burst out laughing and skittered away. Then a dragon walked by, and the plant touched it similarly, making it puff smoke and depart in good humor. The plant treated several passersby that way, between times folding its foliage about it in a most aesthetic form. That was it.
Clio pondered. This was yet another new one. These pun contests were more formidable than she had anticipated. A planted joy? That didn't work. Sweet revenge? No, the plant wasn't hurting anyone; in fact they seemed to like being touched. They were tickled to be touched. But tickle-touch wasn't a pun. Tickled pink? But they weren't changing color. Was it that it was a nice plant? Nice tickle? No pun there.
She couldn't get it, and had to give up. "Cuticle," the dragon said. "We call it the Kew-Tickle flower."
Clio groaned. Cute tickle! She had been so close. Now the score was 4 to 3 in the dragon's favor. She couldn't afford to lose another.
At least her memory was returning. She remembered a credulous bovine that might do. She formed her picture: A bull was grazing in a field when a fox approached. "Hey, there's much better pasture behind that tree," the fox said. "There is? Thanks!" The bull hurried around the tree.
But instead of pasture there was a snoozing ogre. The bull banged into the ogre before he could halt. The ogre woke, annoyed, took hold of him, and twisted him into the form of a pretzel before throwing him back where he came from. It was a most uncomfortable occasion, and it took the poor bull an hour to untangle his legs and get back to his feet.
Then the fox came again. "Say, there's a really sexy cow behind that other tree."
"There is? Thanks!" The bull went around the tree, but instead of a cow there was a snoozing fire dragon. The bull stumbled into the dragon, who woke and toasted his rear so hotly the bull had to leap into the nearest pond to douse his smoldering fur.
Then the fox came again. "There's a bare icade behind that third tree."
"There is? What's an icade?"
"Go there and see. She's quite a sight."
So the bull charged around the tree—and ran straight into a temporary wooden wall made of planks that surrounded a sleeping bear. He crashed to the ground, getting splinters in his hide, and the bear woke and angrily swiped at him. "What's this?" he demanded of the fox, who was smirking. "It doesn't look like a bare icade."
"Oh, you must have misheard," the fox said. "I said it's a bear icade."
The scene faded. The dragon pondered. "That's a stupid bull."
"Extremely. He never learns. The fox keeps fooling him."
"A fox and bull story?"
"You're thinking of cock and bull."
The dragon sighed. "So I am. I get fables confused." She was unable to fathom the pun.
"He's Gulli Bull," Clio said.
"Gullible!" the dragon cried. "I should have had that!"
Clio knew exactly how she felt. Now they were tied 4 to 4. She still had to win another pun.
A picture formed. It was set in the fabled land of Mundania, where folk were pretty dull because they lacked magic. It showed a building where all manner of ugly things were available for those who had the funny stuff they called money. A woman came to buy a flattened snake that was clenching its tail in its mouth, like Dragon World only much smaller. She put it around her upper torso to hold her bosom up. It was a co-bra. A man bought a big cucumber labeled Dill—and turned into a pickle. Another man bought a machine with a screen whose brand name was Post—and started decaying into dirt. It was a com-post. In short, everything there was dirty or unpleasant.
Clio had written about Mundanes often enough; they stumbled into Xanth fairly regularly. She didn't remember any shopping place of quite this nature, but it seemed possible, because one never could tell about Mundanes. What was the pun? "Dirty money?" she asked.
"Nice guess," the dragon said smugly.
The point did seem to be the people or the store rather than the money. Then suddenly she had it: "Gross-ery store!"
"Ah, well," the dragon said, not unduly dismayed. "We shall draw lots to determine which of us have the privilege of becoming real in Xanth. You said five couples of each type?"
Clio hadn't said, but didn't argue. "Correct."
"We will have them ready this time tomorrow."
It was time to move on. Becka changed form, and they took off. "You handled that well," Drew remarked. "Making them think you didn't know they knew."
"I really wasn't sure they knew. Those were some tough puns."
"Only three more contests to go."
They flew to the tip of a wing, where the air dragons ran her through another barrage of puns, then agreed to assemble their volunteers on the morrow. After that it was the inside of a front claw, theoretically used by the Dragon World for digging, for the tunneling dragons. They all had stout forelimbs and dull colors, but were smart enough. Finally it was the jumping dragons, on the top of the head.
These were especially interesting, because they had an ability no Xanth dragon had: they did not jump physically, but magically. They moved by teleporting short distances. So if a dragon wanted to take one step forward, it vanished where it was, and reappeared almost instantly one pace ahead. The fact that most of its bulk was occupying the same space as before did not seem to matter; it had made its move. If it had farther to go, it teleported in a series of jumps, looking like a staccato picture. This meant that these dragons could not be barred from any place by physical barriers; they teleported right through them, sometimes pausing part way through without apparent discomfort. Clio was hard put not to stare as the big leader dragon approached her in several rapid little jumps.
"They are good hunters," Drew remarked. "And good guards. But bad enemies."
Clio was sure that was the case. Fortunately she had not come here as any enemy, and her dealing with these dragons was similar to the others. Soon they too had agreed to assemble a suitable number for transport the following day.
They returned to spend the night with Dragon Princess Ida, who was a marvelous host. She served human food for Clio and Becka, who was in human form, and small dragon roasts for Drew and Drusie. She was intrigued by Becka, and the two got along well. Meanwhile Clio reviewed the day with Drew.
"Those dragons don't seem to be so bad, now," Clio said in her mind. This illusory dialog was quite convenient.
"Drusie and I are reforming our impression of humans, because of our association with you."
"All the same, I'll be glad to return home tomorrow."
"And we'll be nervous. But we should be safe as long as we stay with you and Becka."
"That may be a problem. You want to be together, naturally, but Becka and I are working together only temporarily. We will soon separate."
"That's a problem." The dragons consulted, and concluded that they would have to stay with Clio. Fortunately her shirt had two pockets. Once they had saved her life, they would go on to Becka and save hers, acquitting their commitment.
Next day they went to the land dragon site. The dragons were there, two by two and in collections of five couples, covering the landscape. Six thousand, two hundred fifty dragons. How could they ever fit into the tiny dragon net?
"Just toss it over them," Drew suggested.
Feeling foolish, she flung the net out toward the assembled dragons. It spread like exploding sunbeams and extended to cover the whole vast array. It settled down on the dragons, scintillating.
And the dragons shrank beneath it. They did not seem to be in any discomfort; they simply became smaller as the net drifted down and drew in its edge
s. Soon it lay on the ground, its original size.
She went to pick it up. It was full of exquisitely tiny dragons, the largest no bigger than motes of dust. "It seems it's large enough," she said. "I hope all those dragons are not uncomfortable in there."
"They aren't," Drusie said. "To them, the net seems big."
They were alone on the plain that was the belly of the beast. "I think it is time to return to Xanth," Becka said. "Do we travel separately, or together?"
"I would feel more secure together. We can hold hands."
"Done." They took hands, then willed themselves home.
They expanded in much the manner the net had. Dragon World seemed to shrink. As it became the size of a Ping-Pong ball one eye fixed on them and winked again. Then it shrank into mote size, and disappeared.
Now they saw the huge Princess Ida around whose head this world orbited. She wasn't exactly human, but Clio couldn't quite decide what species she was before she shrank into oblivion and her world came into view.
They expanded past a succession of worlds and Idas at an accelerating rate. Clio had to close her eyes lest she become dizzy. Then, seemingly suddenly, they were back in Xanth, floating toward their two resting bodies. They plunged in.
Clio felt as if she were suffocating. She was surrounded by ponderous flesh! Then she took control and made herself breathe. She opened her eyes, and saw Becka recovering also.
"It is good to have you back," Princess Ida said. "Did you achieve your object?"
Clio looked down at her hand. There was the dragon net bag. "I believe we did. But it's only partly done; we'll have four more trips to make."
"Where are Drew and Drusie?" Becka asked.
Oops. Clio had forgotten them. She glanced at her pocket, and found it empty. "We lost them!" she exclaimed, horrified.
"Oh, no!"
"We're not lost," Drew's faint voice came. "We merely lack substance at the moment."
Oh, of course. They needed physical bodies too.
"There are others with you?" Ida inquired.
"We have two dragons in our pockets," Clio said. "And more than six thousand in the net."
"In soul form," Ida said.
"Yes. Your analog on Dragon World gave me this net to contain them. We must take them to Castle MaiDragon where Che Centaur is assembling the raw material for bodies. Then we will return for our second trip."
"I will be expecting you."
They left Castle Roogna. Then Becka changed to dragon form, Clio mounted, and they flew to the Castle MaiDragon. Becka hurried, so it didn't take long.
Che Centaur was there amidst piles of substance. "This should animate in the correct forms, once the souls take over and guide it," he said. "Do you have them?"
"A few," Clio said. "But let's try it first on two special cases."
"Sure."
"Drew and Drusie, can you take hold of the substance you need?"
"We'll see."
After about a moment and a half, two little forms rose out of the nearest mass of substance. They spread their wings and flew up to perch on Clio's and Becka's shoulders.
"Che, meet Drew and Drusie," Clio said. "Drew and Drusie, this is Che Centaur, who gathered your substance."
"Much thanks," Drew's thought came. "It is excellent."
"It's so nice to be real at last," Drusie said.
"Let's do the rest," Becka said. "We'd better stand back."
Clio lifted the dragon net and opened it. She saw nothing, but soon shapes started rising from the substance, forming into dragons. Before long there were six thousand, two hundred fifty of them.
"Tell them to spread out across Xanth," Clio said. "And to avoid humans and human settlements. Che Centaur will answer any questions they have. Don't eat him!" Because they were after all dragons.
"And to avoid hostile puns," Becka added.
We shall, a dragon thought came. Thank you, kind Muse.
The dragons started spreading out. Meanwhile Clio and Becka got ready to go for the second batch. "Where do you want to be, Drew and Drusie?" she asked.
"With you, of course. We haven't saved your lives yet."
Clio laughed. "Then ride in our pockets, as before. We have much still to do today." She picked up the limp dragon net as Becka changed back to dragon form. She had a real feeling of accomplishment.
5
Three Curses
All the dragons had been delivered, and Becka and Che Centaur were orienting the last batch, with the help of the three little princesses. "I believe I'll go home now for a rest," Clio said. "It has been a long day."
"And we shall go with you, of course," Drew said. Drusie flew across from Becka and took Clio's other shirt pocket.
Clio looked around. She did not want to bother Becka or Che, who were busy. How was she to get home quickly? It was a long walk from here.
Princess Melody appeared. "You need a ride?"
Her sister Harmony faded in. "We can help."
"Just use the search engine," Rhythm said, there for only long enough to speak. Then all three were gone.
"A what?" Clio asked belatedly.
Something that looked like a little Mundane choo-choo train chugged up on invisible tracks, blowing puffs of smoke. That was evidently the locomotive the princesses had summoned. It eased to a stop before her, leaking steam from around the wheels. The word GOO was printed on its side. Clio hoped it wasn't gooey.
Melody appeared again. "Feed it coal-ins," she said.
"Not semi-coal-ins," Harmony added.
"And tell it to fetch you home," Rhythm concluded. Then the three of them morphed into three chunks of black coal shaped like dots and commas.
Clio picked up two dots and tossed them into the coal-in car behind the engine. "Home, please," she said, and stepped onto the next car, which had a suitable seat.
The engine digested the coals, bleeped twice, and started its wheel turning. At first it was slow, but soon it was faster, and after that it was very fast. It steamed across the terrain, making a blur of the scenery.
Then Mount Parnassus loomed ahead. Next thing, the train stopped at the home of the Muses, letting out more steam. Somehow it had gotten halfway up the mountain and past the various obstructions without noticing them.
Clio got off. "Thank you, Goo," she said.
The engine puffed a sweet smelling ball of smoke in acknowledgment, and chugged off. No doubt someone else had some coal-ins for it.
"This is a big mountain," Drew said. "Why do you live here?"
"That is a long story," Clio said, lying down on her bed. "I doubt you would be interested."
"But we are," Drusie said. "We need to know all about you, so we can save your life."
Clio wasn't sure of their logic, but knew the little dragons meant well. "It begins when I was delivered, a hundred eighty-four years ago. I can review it in my mind, and you can skip the dull parts."
"And animate the bright parts," Drew agreed.
"But you don't look that old," Drusie said.
"Well, I'm not, really. It depends how you measure it."
"We'll measure it sympathetically," Drew said.
Clio relaxed on the bed, and thought about her origin.
* * *
King Ebnez took office in the Xanth Year 909, after the Ghost king had been exorcized by the people who wanted more life at the court. With the considerable assistance of his wife Mnem, whose talent was perfect memory, he signaled the storks for eight daughters in eight years. Their names were Calliope, who learned to recite epic poetry, Euterpe, who preferred lyric poetry, Melpomene, who liked tragedy, Terpsichore, who was strong on song and dance, Erato, who liked love poetry, Poly-hymenia, who preferred sacred poetry, Urania, who became an astronomer, and Thalia, who liked comedy. Between them they kept the king and queen so busy that finally they were sent to a very private place, Castle Roogna, which had been lost for centuries. A nice woman, Rose of Roogna, was there, in hiding from her own family situation, and she was ve
ry helpful, so they were satisfied to be in this anonymous exile.
As it happened, there was a curse drifting around, and the king and queen were wary of it. It was that they could have as many as eight daughters happily, but the ninth would be cursed. So they decided not to signal the stork for any more. Besides, it was now the year 917 and the LastWave was invading from Mundania. It was all the king could do to handle that. So there was no time for another baby.
But then something went wrong, despite the king and queen's very loving relationship. No one was ever quite certain what, but apparently a signal went out to the stork, and a ninth baby was delivered. This was disaster, as they were completely unprepared, and there was also that curse. What were they to do? The stork was insistent: it was not about to take the baby back. They had to accept it.
King Ebnez' Magician talent was to adapt magical inanimate things to other purposes. So he made a daring plan: he would try to adapt the magic curse, which was presumed to be inanimate, to something else. That way it would be safe to accept the baby.
Thus it was that Mnem received her ninth daughter, Clio, who was destined to have an affinity for history. She had a sweet face, but her body was bony. And that was the first evidence of the curse: she was destined to have a body without nice feminine curves, so no man would want to marry her. They learned this from a magic mirror that knew something of curses, having been cracked up by one.
The king touched her and concentrated. "I will mitigate this curse," he said. "She may never have curves of her own, but she will find some." That was the best he could do; the original curse was exceedingly strong, and he had not had time to plan a really apt diversion.
But the curse was not done. It turned out that this girl would have danger every day of her life, enough to harm or even kill her. So the king concentrated again: "She may face daily danger, but will have the means to nullify it." He didn't know what the means might be, just that Clio would have some sort of magic to handle it.
Still the curse attacked, with the worst strike yet: she would die young. Once more the king concentrated. "She may die young, but she will be young a long time."