Well-Tempered Clavicle (37 page)

“Nevertheless you helped distract him, and I do appreciate it.” She patted his shoulder affectionately. “I’d kiss you, but I don’t have lips at the moment.”

“That’s all right,” Checkoff said, his hide faintly blushing. He moved on before she could get any other ideas.

“So when the monster realized he had caught Joy’nt, all he could do was let her go,” Skully said. “Because she would simply revert to bones soon anyway.”

“And the time taken to try to dissolve her would simply keep him from his other business that much longer,” Dawn agreed. “Woofer will be leading her back here soon.”

“So we stopped another monster rampage,” Picka said. “But there’s bound to be another.”

“Do you know what the cunning beast is doing?” Skully asked. “Since he can no longer track Dawn, he is making
us
come to
him.
He’ll keep doing it until we settle with him, one way or another.”

“That’s right,” Dawn said. “We can’t let him go on this way.”

“But I’m not strong enough to defeat him,” Picka said.

Dawn considered. “It seems we must choose between letting him continue marauding, maybe doing real damage, and tackling him directly. I can stop it in a moment simply by agreeing to marry him.”

“No!”

“Then it seems we must tackle him,” she said.

Picka was unable to argue with that.

In due course Joy’nt and Woofer returned, and the group of them transported back to the island.

“We need a strategy,” Dawn said, displaying her princessly management skill. “We also need to meet with the monster and establish the rules of engagement.”

“Engagement!” Joy’nt said. “But if you don’t want to marry him—”

Dawn smiled. “I mean the terms by which we deal with Piper. We have to establish where and how the combat will be, and what the consequences are, depending on who wins. Such as the combat will be musical and, win or lose, no more marauding.”

“Why would he agree to that?” Skully asked.

“Because he wants to win the prize, which will be contingent on his agreement to those rules. He’ll do it.”

“Prize?”

“Me.”

“But—” Picka started ineffectively.

“I will marry the winner without further protest.”

“But if Picka loses—” Joy’nt said.

“Then I will marry the monster. He won’t maraud after that; he’ll be too busy collecting and storing puns. Xanth will be safe.”

“And if Picka wins—” Skully said.

“I will marry Picka, and he will be too busy collecting and storing puns to maraud either.”

Skully and Joy’nt chuckled.

“I don’t like this,” Picka said. “Not just because he’s a better musician than I am. It’s that music appreciation is subjective. Who is to say who is better, really?”

“Good point,” Dawn agreed. “We’ll need a judging panel. Maybe one member we nominate, one member Piper nominates, and a third we both agree on. They will decide, if the merits are not obvious. We must both agree to abide by the panel’s decision, whatever it may be.”

Picka still wasn’t easy about it, but saw no alternative.

A smoke cloud appeared. “Ah, you’re front,” it said.

“We’re what, Metria?” Dawn asked.

“Side, obverse, reverse, rear, aft, butt—”

“Back?”

“Whatever,” the smoke agreed irritably. “The huge has a crisis.”

“The giant has found another crisis,” Dawn agreed. “Of what nature?”

“Fires starting everywhere. They’ll soon spread if not stopped—but the monster won’t let firefighters near it.”

Dawn sighed. “Guide us there.”

They gathered, and in a moment they were there.

Dawn looked around. “I know this region,” she said. “It’s near the Faun & Nymph Retreat. Princess Ida took my sister Eve and me here once. She grew up nearby.”

Ahead of them was the fire. Fauns and nymphs were pausing in their endeavors to gaze at it, not understanding it. It would soon spread into their retreat, because the wind was that way.

And there of course was the monster barring their access. They couldn’t even start to fight the fire without first dealing with him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Granola’s voice came from above. “Every time I try to fetch water to douse the fires, the monster stuns me.”

“What is causing the blaze?” Skully asked.

“Jesse makes greased lightning bolts. He forges them with his anvil and greases them so they can slip through thick clouds, and stores them until a client like Fracto comes for them. But the monster charged though, broke open his storage bin, and all the stored bolts flew out. Now they are starting fires wherever they land.”

Dawn nodded. “I will deal with Piper.” She strode toward the monster.

“Wait, you’ll need someone to speak for you, when he stuns you,” Picka said, running after her.

“He won’t stun me when I’m coming to parley.” Then she froze. She had been stunned.

“The monster doesn’t yet know you have come to parley,” Picka said belatedly. Then he stepped in front of her. “Piper!”

The monster waited.

“We have come to negotiate,” Picka continued. “To establish rules of engagement. Free her so she can talk with you. Otherwise I will defend her with my music, and you will lose your chance.”

Dawn reanimated. “Thank you, Picka,” she said as if this were routine. “Piper, here is the situation: you want to marry me. So does Picka. Only one of you can do so. The two of you must battle it out musically. I will marry the legitimate winner, and live in Caprice Castle with him and be a perfect wife. But only if the contest is fair. You can’t cheat and win me; I will suicide if I have to.”

The monster played a note.

“I am coming to that. Suppose we form a three-judge panel. We will select one judge. You will select another. We both must agree on the third. The majority decision of the judges will be final.”

Another note. Dawn responded to what she knew the monster was thinking, rather than the music. “Yes, you may compete with kill-music if you prefer. In that case no judging will be necessary; the loser will likely be destroyed. But if it comes to melodic music, judging will be necessary, because of the subjectivity.”

Another note.

“We will agree on a contest site,” Dawn said. “Here, if you wish. But first we must put out these fires. I suggest a truce for that purpose.”

One more note.

“Yes, I hereby commit to the contest, and to honoring its result. I will marry one of you, on my honor as a princess.”

The monster retreated toward the fire. “He agrees,” Dawn said. “It is a truce for this purpose. We will not attack each other. We will fight the fire together.”

Could it be that simple? Dawn surely knew.

They advanced on the fire. “Fetch the scattered lightning bolts,” Dawn said. “Toss them to the monster, who will extinguish them.”

“I will fetch water,” Granola said.

Once they were working together, it went rapidly. The skeletons fetched and threw the slippery bolts and stamped out their spot fires. The monster put them out and stacked them safely. Granola brought water and doused whatever smolders remained. The fire crisis was over.

The three pets, now four with Erin in cat form, had reassembled, realizing that the need to track the monster’s depredations had ended.

Picka was privately amazed that they had worked alongside the monster without any problem. Piper was not a mindless thing; he knew what he wanted, and could do what was required to achieve it.

But now it was time for the contest. And Picka still wasn’t ready.

Dawn faced Piper. “There remain some details. I suggest we schedule the competition for tomorrow morning, here. I see you agree.”

A reprieve of a few more hours! But Picka did not feel very much relieved.

“Now the judges. Picka?”

He had thought about it, and made his decision. “I choose Tweeter Bird, who has a considerable musical sense and is fair-minded.”

Tweeter tweeted, surprised, but accepted.

Dawn addressed Piper. “Whom do you choose?”

The monster considered, then blew a note.

Dawn’s jaw descended a degree. “Do I misunderstand? She’s on our side!”

Another note.

Dawn shook off some of her amazement, which scattered in little dissipating beads. “Piper chooses as his judge Joy’nt Bone.”

Now Joy’nt’s jawbone dropped. “But—”

The monster blew another note.

“He says he is satisfied you are objective.”

Joy’nt spread her arm bones. “If that’s the way it is, then I will do it, and try to be fair-minded. But I am likely to prefer my brother’s music.”

“Now we must agree on the third,” Dawn said.

There was a silence of one and three-quarter moments. Then Midrange spoke. “Meow.”

“Midrange nominates the Demon Pundit,” Dawn said, “if he will serve. How do the two of you feel about that?”

Picka considered. This was the Mini-Demon who had built Caprice Castle and started the collection of puns. His interest was in getting that project resumed. He should be reasonably competent and objective. “I agree.”

Piper pondered, then decided. He blew a note.

“Piper agrees,” Dawn said. “Now the question is whether Demon Pundit will agree to serve.”

Caprice Castle formed on the burned-out section of ground. The door opened. The Demon appeared in human form. “Yes. Meanwhile, for the night, the castle is yours. All of you. It will be a neutral site; you will enter it under enforced truce. The winner tomorrow will take possession of Caprice and commence the mission. I shall return on the morrow.” He vanished.

An amazed look circulated among the eight of them and the monster. Granola surely shared that look. Then they walked toward Caprice Castle.

20

D
ECISION

The monster happened to be closest. He slid up to the front gate and crossed the threshold—and became the handsome human man they had seen in the History.

Piper turned. “Welcome to Caprice Castle,” he said, then stood and waited for the rest of them to enter.

The skeletons and pets hesitated, but Dawn did not. “Thank you, Piper,” she said, and walked on in. She knew he could be trusted in this context. Demons did not fool around.

The others hurried to follow. In another moment they were all in the entry foyer.

“It is good to be here again,” Piper said. “I remember it so well. This is the perfect residence.”

“Yes, it is,” Dawn agreed.

“I am sorry I can’t enter it,” Granola said from outside.

“Ah, but you can, madame giantess,” Piper said. “The magic extends to any the castle welcomes, and the Demon included you in that number. Merely approach and enter.”

“But I’m way too big!”

“Try it and see.”

The ground shook as she stepped close. An invisible foot touched the threshold.

A nude human-sized woman with a handbag appeared. “Oh!” she said with Granola’s voice.

“We will wait while you dress,” Piper said graciously.

Granola scrambled and found her bra and panties and a simple dress and slippers in her handbag, all correctly sized. The transformation evidently included everything in proportion. Soon she was clothed: a handsome matron with graying hair.

She joined them. “I am astonished to be on this scale,” she said, “but it’s a delight to be able to interact with the rest of you on a more personal basis.”

“When I recover the castle,” Piper said, “and marry the princess, she will of course be able to entertain any guests she chooses. I’m sure she will welcome you, and so will I, our issue having been settled.”

“And what of Picka?” Granola asked dryly.

“He will be destroyed. That is the nature of this contest.”

“And if Picka wins?”

“Then I will be dead. Either way, the issue will be resolved.”

Picka did not comment. Piper was correct. It was a duel to destruction. There would be no rejected suitor hoping to reclaim Princess Dawn.

Piper clapped his hands. “Dinner in half an hour,” he announced. “Please show the assorted guests to their chambers so they can clean up and change.”

Lines appeared on the floor, leading from each person to the stairs. Picka’s line was blue. So was Dawn’s. He had to admit that Piper’s familiarity with the castle was facilitating things. He knew tricks they had not imagined.

Their line led to the same bedroom they had shared before. Picka saw that Piper’s line led to a different wing of the castle, so he would not be close by. That was a relief.

Dawn stripped and stepped into the castle shower. “Select something nice for me to wear,” she called.

Picka looked in the closet. There were a number of dresses. He selected a nice one.

She emerged, took one look, and frowned. “This is a formal occasion, Picka. I need a formal gown.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, embarrassed.

She kissed his skull. “You’re a typical male. I’ll have to dress you too.”

“But skeletons don’t wear clothing.”

“When you transform to man form for the dance.”

Oh. He wasn’t sure that was wise, but knew she would not be denied.

They went down to the ballroom. The others arrived at the same time. Granola was garbed as an elegant matron. Piper took her arm, guiding her, as she had never been inside a castle, or indeed any human domicile, before.

The table was laid out with a suitable banquet: food for the three living people and the four pets, none for the three skeletons. But all had places set.

“There are name tags for all,” Piper said.

So there were: Dawn and Picka at the head table along with Piper and Granola, while Skully, Joy’nt, and the four pets were at the second table. It seemed that Erin was quite satisfied to remain in feline form, so as to be with Midrange. She was a cat who could assume human form, rather than vice versa.

Covered dishes were already there. Dawn’s turned out to be a fine repast of exactly the kind of things living folk liked, like beefsteak tomatoes, mild boot rear, and sugary pastry. Picka’s contained a little bone-rolling puzzle he could use to divert himself in the interim.

Granola looked uncertain. “No, this food will not interfere with your invisibility when you depart the castle and revert to your normal form,” Piper reassured her. “It is wholesome throughout. Indeed, this whole castle is wholesome, the perfect royal residence.”