Luck of the Draw (Xanth) (27 page)

“Yet if he can’t stop it, with all his expertise, what hope have we of advising him of any better way?” Bryce asked.

“There has to be a key,” Anna said.

The fight continued, and Arsenal was getting the worst of it. He might be able to handle any mortal warrior, but this was a demon with a magical sword. How could anything handle a weapon designed to magically counter any attack?

Bryce remembered reading a story about a table tennis game wherein one player had a magic paddle that always returned a fair shot, no matter how hard or spinning the ball came. It seemed impossible that the other player could win any point, let alone the game. Yet, in the story, he had.

How had he done it? Bryce strained his memory. How could any player win a point against an enchanted paddle that could not miss? Yet there had been a way.

“He’s tiring,” Piper said. “The demon of course is tireless.”

“He was foolish to get into this,” Anna said. “But I don’t want to sit here and watch him die.”

Bryce racked his brain. What was he missing?

Then it came to him. The other player had placed a hard shot to a spot that the one with the magic paddle couldn’t reach in time. The paddle could return anything it touched, but the player had to get it to the point of touching. The paddle could not return what it didn’t touch.

But this magic sword had a feature the magic paddle lacked: it moved to intercept the opposing blade. No matter where Arsenal attacked, the magic sword was always there in plenty of time, as if anticipating that very ploy. Maybe that was part of its magic. If Arsenal could attack a part of the demon’s body that was out of reach of the Sword, then he could score. But there was no part of the body out of reach. So the table tennis example offered no solution.

Unless …

A bulb flashed over Bryce’s head. There was a way!

“Arsenal,” he said.

“Don’t distract him,” Anna said. “He’s already too hard-pressed.”

“This distraction is necessary,” Bryce said. “Arsenal, there is a way.”

“Um,” the man said, acknowledging him.

“You have knives.”

“Um.” Arsenal beat off another attempt on his head, but not by much.

“Take the knives. Two of them. Use them far apart.”

Arsenal paused. He dodged another thrust, barely avoiding it. Then he dropped his sword and caught up two knives, one in each hand.

Demons lacked human emotions, unless they happened to have acquired portions of souls. But the fire demon paused, surprised. Maybe he distrusted this ploy, wherein his opponent seemed to be disarming himself. Maybe he was figuring out how to counter it.

Arsenal gave him no time to ponder. He struck at the demon’s head with his right-hand knife. The Sword rose to counter it. It was successful; it knocked the knife out of Arsenal’s hand.

Then Arsenal’s left-hand knife plunged into the demon’s rib cage on the other side. Actually it was plunging even as the right-hand knife was being knocked away. The magic sword could not be in two places at once, so had left the other side momentarily undefended.

The demon did not bleed or crumple. He puffed into smoke and drifted away. The Sword dropped to the ground, landing point first, the hilt raised. Arsenal had won it.

He put his hand to it and drew it out of the ground. “Mine!” he exclaimed exultantly.

“Yours,” Bryce agreed, relieved.

“My thanks to you,” Arsenal said. “You gave me the key.”

“I’m just glad I figured it out in time,” Bryce said.

Arsenal nodded. “I will remember.”

“Now let’s get out of here,” Anna said nervously. “Before there’s another burn.”

Piper changed into his monster form, becoming the buoyant mat. They boarded not long before a wave of fire swept through the area. They heaved buckets of sand at the firewall, making a temporary hole, and pushed through. Anna directed the mat accurately through the waves and heaves. It seemed easier this time, now that they knew the route. But it was also true that Anna seemed to have a feel for this anomalous guidance. Her talent was coming into play.

As they achieved the edge of the Region of Earth, Anna leaned down and whispered to the mat. “Good going!” Then she kissed it.

She had more than come to terms with Piper’s other nature.

They camped in the refreshing normal landscape of the path beyond the Regions. Mindy found pies and pods for their dinner. “I will trike back to the station and take the train to the Good Magician’s Castle,” Arsenal said. “I’m done here.” He mounted his trike and rode north. He would be caught by darkness, but he was obviously unconcerned. After all, he had the Sword.

Now they were four, counting Mindy. “Let’s rest the night,” Anna suggested. “And worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.” The others were happy to agree.

Mindy found pillows and blankets, two of each. Piper and Anna took one set, Bryce and Mindy the other. The two couples settled down a little apart, fully clothed under the blankets.

Piper brought out his piccolo and played a lovely evening hymn. The music put them all in a good mood.

“You were great,” Mindy murmured to Bryce. “How did you ever figure it out?”

“I worked from a Mundane memory. I was lucky it clicked in time, even if we didn’t have Lucky to generate the luck.”

“Arsenal was twice as lucky. He’d have been done for, otherwise.”

“I do what I can. We have all helped each other, and that has facilitated things for all of us.”

“May I tell you a secret?”

“Mindy, I’m not trying to pry into anything that’s not my business.”

“I think I am falling for you.”

He did not pretend to misunderstand. “Mindy, don’t do that! I love the princess, and if by some fluke she chooses me, she has the first call. You know that.”

“I do know that,” she agreed. “And I know I’m just an ordinary servant girl. There’s no future in my feeling. But it’s there.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”

“You can kiss me.”

He thought to protest, then stifled it. Emotions did not always follow sensible courses.

He kissed her. She sighed, then went to sleep.

He felt both guilty and relieved. She was a nice girl, but way too young for him even if he became free. Her crush was flattering but foolish.

But it reminded him of the problematical nature of his participation here. He was not about to marry a sixteen-year-old girl, even if the princess selected him, the love spell notwithstanding. But what would be the consequence of rejecting her, apart from his own broken heart? And if she did not choose him, as seemed more likely, then what was he to do with the rest of his life here in this fantasy land? Did he really want to return to Caprice Castle and collect puns with Mindy?

He had no satisfactory answer.

11

G
EM

B
ryce woke to find Mindy already up and busy. She was here to see to the incidental needs of the party, and she was good at that. Her experience at Caprice Castle seemed to have made her a good servant. All she wanted in return was some affection from him, and he was unable to provide that. He felt guilty again.

Well, maybe he could help her. He got up and joined her where she was setting out pies she had harvested. “Anything I can do?”

She glanced at him, and blushed. “I apologize for what I said last night. I shouldn’t have.”

“Not a gourd-style apology!” he said, alarmed.

She reflected half an instant, then burst out laughing. “What a mess that would be! No, this is garden variety. I put you in an awkward situation, and I regret it.”

“I—accept your apology,” he said, still feeling awkward.

Now Piper and Anna were up. Their relationship was really none of his business. He felt guilty again for being intensely curious about it. Piper was old too, and committed to the princess too, but evidently more flexible about peripheral relationships.

They had breakfast, then oriented on the next Quest. “What says the scroll?” Piper asked Mindy.

She brought out the scroll and unrolled it. “The Gold Coast,” she said.

“Oh, is that like the one in Mundania?” Bryce asked. “Where affluent tourists go?”

Piper smiled tolerantly. “You forget how literal things can be in Xanth. The Gold Coast is made of gold.”

“I’d like to see that!”

“You will,” Anna said. “As soon as we figure out how to get there.”

“Well, there’s the Trollway not far to the north,” Mindy said. “Or we can intercept an enchanted path south of the Regions.”

“Both of which will take time,” Bryce said. “Is there a faster way?”

“Not unless we fly,” Mindy said. “And I’m not keen on trying to get a dragon or roc bird to carry us there. They might forget and eat us instead.”

“Too bad we don’t have magic carpets,” Anna said, smiling. “So we could fly right over the Gap Chasm and south.”

“I wonder,” Mindy said thoughtfully. “Bryce, don’t you have your magic pen?”

“Yes, of course. But I don’t see how—” He paused. “Could it actually draw a workable carpet?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you can find out.”

Bryce brought out the pen the princess had given him. He sketched a simple little rug. “Invoke.”

The rug slid off the page, expanding, becoming a carpet about three feet wide by five feet long. It sailed up and would have escaped into the air, except that Piper grabbed it and held it down. “A little wild,” Piper remarked.

“See if it works,” Mindy said.

Piper wrestled the carpet to the ground, spread it out, and sat on it. “Lift,” he said.

The carpet jerked upward, tilting, almost pitching him off. He grabbed the edges and hung on. “A little wild,” he repeated. “But yes, it works.”

“I think they have to be broken in, at first,” Mindy said. “Until they learn the signals.”

“I understand a well-trained carpet responds to invisible signals by its rider,” Anna said.

“Yes,” Piper agreed. “I have encountered some in my day. But usually it doesn’t take long, because carpets like to fly and carry folk. It’s their justification for existence.”

Bryce drew another rug. Anna caught this one as it expanded, and hung on to it while it heaved and bucked. Soon it settled down, and she was riding in comfort.

“There’s a problem,” Piper said. “When you drew the second carpet, mine disappeared.”

Oops. But Bryce got an idea.

He drew a third, this one twice the length and breadth of the others. Then they wrestled it down and cut it into four smaller carpets. They had gotten around a limit of the pen. Piper and Anna took the first two and resumed taming them.

Mindy got one of the quarters. She lay on it facedown and flew it as if riding a sled, using fingers and toes to remain anchored, and soon it too settled down. “I’m nervous about heights,” she explained. “This keeps me low.”

Bryce took the fourth piece for himself. He caught it as it separated from the rest, put a knee on it, and held it down. He sat on it, gripping the two sides as Piper had done.

The thing shook as if trying to dislodge him. It tried to curl up so he had less room to sit. It rose a few feet, then dived. It whirled around, almost flinging him off. But in his youth Bryce had ridden horses, and was wise to its antics. His perch seemed precarious, but he remained seated, and when it saw that it could not readily dump him, the carpet behaved.

They practiced at low altitude, flying in slow circles. Mindy stayed with her sled posture, and stayed low enough so that it was almost like being on a real sled. Then they loaded their folded trikes and tied them down with threads from the edges of the carpets. The carpets supported the additional weight without a problem. Mindy gradually got acclimatized and sailed higher, so as not to hold the others back.

Bryce had a new appreciation for the power of the pen. He was glad that Mindy had reminded him of it.

When they were ready, they sat or lay on their four carpets and took off together, forming a formation. They sailed up to just above treetop level, which was the maximum height Mindy could handle, and moved forward. They hoped in this manner to remain inconspicuous, and not attract the attention of any neighborhood dragons. If a dragon came they would have to land so that they could either hide or Piper could change form and fight. It was better to avoid any such trouble.

They skirted the Region of Air, which they definitely did not want to tangle with, lest they be blown out of the sky. Then, surprisingly soon, they reached the Gap Chasm.

“Oh, no!” Mindy said, shuddering. “I can’t do that!”

Yet it would be tedious to try to circle around the chasm, and Bryce wasn’t certain they could safely drop down into it either. What could they do?

He thought of something. “Close your eyes. Pretend you’re two feet above the ground. We can surround you and steer you right. Soon we’ll be across and you can look around again.”

She winced, but nerved herself. “Will you hold my hand?”

“I will hold your hand,” Bryce agreed. He steered his carpet to float right beside hers, almost overlapping, and took her right hand with his left.

“Thank you,” she said faintly. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Piper led the way, and Anna closed in on Mindy’s left side. Now they were a formation of one leader, followed by three abreast. They moved forward over the chasm.

Mindy did not move or protest, but her hand was clenching his almost painfully tight. She was trying to pretend, but did know where she was.

They maintained altitude, zooming straight across the gulf that opened out alarmingly below them. Bryce had not seen it before from this elevation, and was mightily impressed. It was different than it had seemed when he was down in it. There was nothing like this in his section of Mundania. He saw trees far below, and rocks and fields, and here and there a small cloud floating between them and the bottom.

“It’s awesome,” he murmured, trying to alleviate Mindy’s tension.

Mindy did not look. “With luck we might even spot the Gap Dragon,” she said bravely.

“We’ve met,” he said, laughing. She laughed with him. That was one of the things about her: she loved to laugh. Even when she was terrified.