She really did not like this business of deceiving the Prince. On the other coil, she understood the need. Her people's situation was getting desperate, and they had to do what they had to do to save themselves. Her father had explained it to her five years before: the goblins were not much good at anything except breeding and raiding. Unfortunately, they were doing that in Mt. Etamin. Their breeding meant that their numbers were increasing, and that made their raiding worse. The recent business with Draco Dragon's nest had really pointed it up: never before had they dared do that. But they had so many of their kind now that they could afford to keep spies at all the key places, watching the dragon, so that they could strike the moment he was gone for more than a few hours. They were watching the naga folk similarly, and encroaching with increasing nerve. Her father, King Nabob, had held them off by judicious strikes, so that it was unsafe for goblins to penetrate naga territory. But the pressure was increasing, and one year the goblins would simply overrun the naga, and that would be that.
So her father had sent an emissary to the one creature who could solve their problem, six years ago. That emissary was Naldo, Nada's brother and heir to the crown. Naldo had gone to the Good Magician Humfrey, of the human folk, and asked his Question. Then he had had to serve a year as a guardian of the magician's castle, threatening to squeeze intruders in his coils without ever really hurting them, at times quite a challenge. Thereafter Naldo had returned with the Answer, which turned out to be a shock to them all.
It was: Marry what Draco brings.
They had spent months analyzing those four words. They knew that the Good Magician always spoke truly, but that his Answers were sometimes subject to interpretation. There was no question about Draco: he was the Dragon of the Mountain, hardly the best of neighbors. The King elected at once to cultivate relations with Draco, so that he would bring what was required, when the time came. The deal was that the naga would never raid the dragon's nest, and the dragon would never attack the naga folk. Draco had been glad to agree, because he was unable to hunt in their caves anyway, so was losing nothing. Relations had become amicable, as they had a common enemy in the goblin horde. Draco had promised to bring them anything he thought might interest them.
But marriage—who was to marry whom? It seemed most reasonable that this applied to Naldo, since he was the one who had obtained the Answer, and he was of age. But how could they know what female the dragon would bring? They slithered around and around this matter, and chewed on it, and digested it as well as they could, and concluded that it must be a young human creature. A naga could by nature marry only one of three creatures: naga, snake, or human. The naga lacked the power to hold off the encroaching goblins forever, so that Naldo's marriage to one of their own would not seem to help. They needed an outside alliance. The serpent folk could handle goblins, but preferred to live on the land's surface, avoiding the depths of the mountain, so that too seemed inappropriate. Thus the human folk were the only real hope; they could live almost anywhere.
But not just any human folk. Ordinary humans had little special power, and were just as wary of goblins as were the naga. It had to be a princess, for two reasons: she could command many other humans, bringing the strength of numbers, and she could do magic. For this was the peculiarity of the human kind: they required magic in their royalty. Not minor magic, which they all had to some degree, but formidable magic. Magician-class magic. If a child of the King lacked that kind of magic, she would not be termed a princess, but merely an offspring. Thus a princess was. by virtual definition, a Sorceress, capable of truly potent magic. That was the type of magic that could turn aside the goblins.
Satisfied at last about the answer, they had waited. They knew that no human princess would come voluntarily to these depths; human folk were just as protective of their kin as were naga folk. The dragon would bring her. That would enable the naga to pose as rescuers, and that would dispose the Princess favorably, so that she would agree to many one of her rank: Prince Naldo. Indeed, Naldo was quite handsome and accomplished in all his forms, a suitable match for any creature. So he held himself in readiness for the Princess, hoping to impress her, for the naga did not marry involuntarily; they had to have the union desired by both parties. The human Princess had to want to marry Naldo, or all would be for nothing. Because humans, like centaurs, had been known to be awkward about interspecies liaisons, Naldo knew he would have to make a good impression not only on the Princess, but on her family too.
There was just one human princess available: Ivy. She was then nine years old, and by all accounts quite cute and quite assertive, with a subtle but potent magic talent. She could intensify any quality she saw in another creature, whatever that might be. Certainly this could foil the goblins; if she saw Naldo as invincible against goblins, then he would be so. If she saw him as very intelligent, then he would be smart enough to figure out how to stop the goblins. So this was obviously the match the dragon had in mind.
Except for the matter of age. Nine was really too young for a princess to marry. She should be at least thirteen. So they knew they would have to wait for Ivy to grow up somewhat. Then she would somehow stray, and Draco would capture her, and for some reason instead of eating her would bring her to the naga. When that happened, Naldo would be ready with his charm.
The years had passed. Princess Ivy had grown. According to the reports, she was developing into a very pretty girl. They managed to conjure a picture of her, confirming it. Naldo was in love with her just from the picture and description. The goblins were pressing harder, but the naga had courage, knowing that their Answer was near.
Then Draco had come—and brought a boy. In a single flash of horror, King Nabob had realized their error. But in a second flash he had redeemed himself in the Kingly manner. He had summoned Nada, and betrothed her to the young Prince. The Answer had been implemented after all.
Nada had realized immediately what she had to do. She had been at the periphery of her brother's training, and had picked up snippets over the years. She was a princess herself, and knew the royal graces. She was also a young woman, who had ascertained to her own satisfaction that she could turn the head of any eligible male (and some ineligible ones too) she chose. Had this been an ordinary situation, she would have had little trouble.
But this was not ordinary. Prince Dolph was a child, just nine years old, while she was a woman of fourteen. Exactly the age of Princess Ivy, with whom she had always identified somewhat. Her brother had even practiced with her, letting her assume human form and play the part of a strange human princess, so that he could perfect his approaches. He was five years older than she, which was a fair differential for such a union. If he hadn't been her brother, she would have considered him an excellent match. It had been hard to see how Ivy could not be charmed. But by similar token, Nada was five years older than Prince Dolph, and that made all the difference.
Because, they had learned, Dolph hated his big sister. She bossed him endlessly, and no prince liked that. Also, girls were supposed to be more innocent than the boys they married. Boys were supposed to know everything, and the girls very little. Since it was manifest that girls were smarter than boys, the only way to get around this was for the girls to be younger. Then, after they were married, they could show their superiority. The boys were then either too stupid or too embarrassed to acknowledge the situation, so they ignored it. They did not even tell each other. That was the universal way of it. Everyone knew all about it, except the men, and of course no woman would tell. It was the mirror to the Adult Conspiracy, only in this case the victims did not know it existed until too late.
Nada was pretty sure she could handle the rest of it. She had never expected to have to play this role, but she was her father's child, and she generally had her coils in order. She could marry Dolph and make him happy and so save her folk from the goblin menace. Except for one thing: how was she to make the little prince believe she knew less than he? When not only was she female, she was five
years older?
The answer had sprung from the question. She simply had to appear younger. Thus she had reduced herself in form and attitude by six years, and assumed the aspect of an eight year old. She had always been petite in her three forms, so that was no problem. She just had to modify her human form to be undeveloped, and this was possible because it was not her natural one; she could make it what she wanted, to a degree. It had only become womanly in the past two years, so it wasn't hard to revert. In one respect she remained a child: she had not yet discovered the secret of summoning the stork. She had approached the King about that a year ago, saying “Now I am grown up; see, my body is developed. Tell me how to summon the stork.” But her father had changed the subject. She regarded that as a breach of faith. It wasn't fair for the King to regard her as still a child when she was all of thirteen, and even fourteen. But now she was satisfied, because she was playing the part of a real child, and this made it easier. She had even remembered to forget how to kiss; she thought that was a nice touch.
Thus Prince Dolph had no suspicion, and they got along well. She would be satisfied if he never knew the truth, and never would she reveal how much more she knew than he. The welfare of her folk was at stake, and she would do her part. The loss of her personal happiness was a small price to pay for that honor.
But oh, she wished they had not encountered that Isle of Food! The other isles had been bad enough; she had not had to pretend her dismay when the ugly ghost had loomed, or when she had spied the kraken weed in the sea. She had had to be careful only at the outset, when they were rescuing Marrow Bones from the goblins. She had learned to play musical instruments only in the last three years, and could play much better than an eight year old. But the need for the wood wind had been great, so she had risked playing it well, trusting that the Prince would not know how much skill it required. The rest was easy: the exclamations when they were carried aloft, when they saw the great Gap Chasm, and so on. She had never before traveled like this, so her excitement really wasn't feigned. The truth was, it was fun being young again, especially with Dolph, who was a nice boy. She could be his friend, and later she would be his wife, though of course she would never love him. He was simply too young. By the time he was old enough, she would be too old. Not that it mattered; her father had explained that love was irrelevant in a marriage of convenience or alliance, and royal marriages seldom took note of it. What counted were the proprieties and the union, in that order.
"Hey! Gold!"
Delphi's exclamation brought Nada out of her reverie. She looked around. Sure enough, the landscape had turned golden.
"This would be the Gold Coast," Marrow remarked.
"Almost everything is gold, here. We shall have to cut inland to pass it by, so that there will be food for you."
"But those apples look good!" Dolph cried, slithering up to a golden tree with three bright gold apples on it.
"I don't think you should try those," Marrow said, and hurried them on.
They cut inland, and the golden vegetation faded. Of course they ran the risk of missing an isle that might be off the Gold Coast, but that couldn't be helped.
In the evening Nada and Dolph shared a potluck pie from a pie tree, lacking appetite for more. They washed in a little stream, even behind their ears, under protest. Nada remembered how she had hated that, as a child, and of course she hated it again, now, to stay in character. It really was fun in its way, being a child again, letting the skeletons assume the adult responsibilities. They were very good at it, despite their rather alien nature.
Then Marrow and Grace’l assumed their cabin forms, and Nada and Dolph settled in for the night. These bony structures were surprisingly comfortable, because the air was filtered and maintained at an even temperature, and they were safe; no hostile creatures could intrude. The skeletons were form changers as much as any other creatures were; it was that their forms were always skeletal. Prince Dolph seemed to attract form changers; maybe that was an aspect of his Magician-class magic.
Magician-class. That was a concept to conjure with. Dolph was a child, and a pretty normal example of the type, with all the fun and frustration that entailed. But his magic put him in another category. She had dreamed of growing up and marrying a Magician, without ever formulating the image; obviously she had been thinking of a human man, since there were no Magicians among her kind. Perhaps she had been borrowing from her brother's destiny, as they had perceived it; if he could marry a human Sorceress, she could marry a human Magician.
Now it had come true, in its surprising fashion. Dolph's talent was certainly all that could have been asked; he was amazing in the way he not only assumed any form instantly, but assumed its ability to swim or fly or whatever, and its mode of communication. Even a ghost! His magic was like a boulder, compared to the grains of sand of ordinary folk.
But he was five years her junior. There was the single kink in this slither, and what a kink it was!
Well, they were betrothed, and he had proved to be highly amenable to her blandishments. She would do her best to cater to his nature throughout, so that he never had a complaint. Not now, not at their marriage, not thereafter. She would be the best possible playmate, then lover, then wife to him. She was no Sorceress herself; she had no magic beyond the talents of her species. But she was a princess, and she would do what she was destined to do, the whole of her life. It was a matter of personal pride, as well as for the welfare of her kind. Her father expected it of her, and she would not disappoint him—or Dolph. Or anyone. Ever.
"Why are you crying, Nada?" Grace'l's skull asked quietly.
Nada jumped. She had forgotten that she was sheltered by a conscious creature who never slept! The skull formed the entrance, and it had turned to face inward, to speak to her. "N-nothing," she sobbed.
"It is not nothing," Grace’l insisted. "I am a woman, however strange to you. You are another. I see what the males do not. Last night you cried in your sleep; tonight you cry awake. What is your sorrow?"
"I cannot tell you," Nada said, trying to mop her tears.
"You are older than you appear, and you are unhappy. I will keep your secret."
"I'm a child! Like Dolph!"
"When you sleep, your body assumes its natural age. You are a woman. A young woman, but no child. Is this why you cry?"
"I must not say!"
"We can not be heard. Tell me your grief, and I will tell you mine."
That brought Nada up short. What grief could a skeleton have? Her female curiosity surged forth; she had to know!
Since Grace’l had fathomed Nada's own sorrow, half the secret was out anyway. "Tell me yours first."
Grace’l did not argue. She simply spoke. "I told Marrow that I had stepped out of the gourd and gotten stranded here in the real world, but that was not the whole story. I was thrown out, and I can never go back."
"But that's your realm!" Nada exclaimed. "There's no place for your kind out here! You belong in bad dreams!"
"Yes. I was exiled. It was the ultimate penalty for my crime. I cannot die; that is what made it so bad."
"What did you do, that is a crime in the realm of bad dreams? They are supposed to be horrible!"
"Yes. There was a troll on an isle of Xanth. His tribe of trolls raided a human village. This is the business of trolls. They were hungry, and they needed fresh succulent children to eat. Some distracted the menfolk of the village, while others charged into the homes and distracted the women. They distracted the men by trying to kill them, but the men were too strong and managed to drive the trolls away instead. They distracted the women by trying to rape them, but the women fought with the strength of desperation and got away. Tristan Troll got into a house while this was happening and snatched up a succulent child and carried her away into the deep forest. So the raid was after all a success; they would eat that night.
" 'Oh please. Sir Troll, do not take me away from my family,* the little girl begged. 'I am my family's only child, and they
will be tormented by my loss.'
Tristan looked at her, and she was very pretty and very sweet, yet despite these flaws she was a bit like the child he had never had. He felt sorry for her family. He set her down. 'Return to your family,' he told her. 'But do not tell what I did.'
"The girl was smart enough to realize that he was doing wrong. I’ll never tell!' she promised. Then she was away, running through the deep wood to her home.
"Thus the trolls were unsuccessful in their raid, and they went hungry that night. The human village was on guard thereafter, so no further raids were possible for some time. Tristan did not tell his fellows what he had done, out of deepest shame; he knew it had been a completely untroll-like act. Since all the rest had failed in their endeavors, they were not surprised that he had failed too. His mischief escaped undetected.
"But that night he dreamed, and the Night Stallion knew of his dereliction, for the stallion knew the worst secrets of all dreaming creatures. The stallion spent hours working up the most horrible dream for him, so bad it would require three night mares just to bring the whole of it. It was probably the most terrifying dream ever crafted for a troll, a wonderful work of art. Tristan would scream the whole night through, and be unable to wake till morning, riveted by that awful dream. After that, it was certain, he would never betray his tribe like that again.
"I had the honor to be the central figure in this dream. Tristan was afraid of many things, but of skeletons most of all. Because it was a female child he had let go, it was to be a female skeleton who haunted his sleep. It was of course a signal honor for me, my first major role, and I was duly proud. I intended to make him scream so hard and long that his tongue would fall out.
"But as I researched the details of his crime of conscience, I found it hard to build up enthusiasm. It was true that he had betrayed his tribe and caused them unnecessary hunger, but he had also averted much grief to the human family. It was of course not my business to judge him; I was only an actor in a bad dream. But when I played my part as the skeleton of a woman of his tribe who had starved because of his dereliction, and leaped out at him in the dream to send him into the ultimate abyss of terror, I faltered. 'I think you did right,’ I whispered. The rest of the dream was crafted as scripted, and my default was unnoticed.