The Dastard (20 page)

She left the girl's village and made her way to the Green Horn's ramshackle shack. “Ho, miscreant!” she called at the door. “Get your sorry donkey out here.”

Green Horn appeared, astonished at the appearance of so lovely a woman. “What is your concern?” he asked, almost politely, for normally attractive women would have nothing to do with him.

“Aren't you the riddler?” she demanded, knowing the answer.

“That I am. Have you come for a riddle?”

“No. I didn't come for a riddle. I came to marry you.”

He could hardly believe what he took to be his good fortune. So they were married, and on their wedding night she made him a cake of wild thyme. They had one fabulous party, and he fell utterly in love with her. He was helpless to oppose her will in any way.

That was what she wanted. She had a lifetime of contempt to return, and she returned it in good measure. She made him suffer every day, until finally he could take it no longer, and threw himself in front of a hungry dragon. Sea Girl was a widow.

But she still had too much bitterness left to just let it go to waste. So she went after another man, and treated him similarly. After she drove him to suicide she went to another. But by this time her bitterness had degenerated into corruption, and that was affecting her body, and she was beginning to look like a hag. It was harder to trap her third husband, and impossible for the fourth: She no longer had sufficient appearance.

So she retired to further bitterness, knowing that she had thrown away at least one good man who might have given her a good life, had she given him a chance. She swore not to let that happen again. So when she walked carelessly, and fell in the sea, and drowned, and her soul ranged free again, she made sure not only to seek a good man to torment, but to line up her next body, so that she would always be young and beautiful. The prospect was a child of ten, but she watched the girl become a lovely woman in the course of a few years. Then when her personality started showing, making her body ugly, she arranged to kill herself, and took the one she had watched ripen. She had found her formula for success.

The odd thing was, she never succeeded in using up her store of bitterness and ill will. After a few centuries, she didn't want to. It was just fine being the mean Sea Hag. The opinions of others didn't matter; only her personal satisfaction.

“And so I continue today,” she concluded. “Though never before have I encountered so much difficulty hanging onto new bodies. That's why I have to get rid of the Dastard.”

The Dastard! The Sea Hag had run afoul of the Dastard?

The Hag was surprised. “You know of the Dastard?”

Melody wasn't sure where this could lead, but she could not conceal her thoughts from the Sea Hag. Yes, she knew of that Dastard; that was why she was here. They had to nullify the Dastard before he did any more harm.

“So we both want to get rid of him,” the Hag said, amazed. “Well, I will do it for you. You are a princess, with an excellent body. That is exactly what he seeks, fool that he is. I will go and marry him, and make him miserable as only I can do. I will drive him to suicide in reasonably short order.”

But Melody did not want to marry the Dastard. That was absolutely the last thing she ever wanted to do.

“Tough tears, toots. You do not have a choice. This is what I have decided to do. First, we'll have to restore your appearance to natural, so that it's obvious you're a princess. Then we'll go fascinate the Dastard. That shouldn't be hard to do, with your body and my experience.”

Melody gave herself up for lost.

The Dastard was pleased, which was an unusual state for him. Not only had he gotten into some panties, they had turned out to be fairly decent ones, all things considered. Now Xena was on her way elsewhere, and he and Becka were on their way to the next nexus.

This turned out to be a group of vaguely demon-like creatures. They were busily excavating a hole in the ground.

“Who are you?” the Dastard inquired. “In fact, what are you?”

One of them glanced up. “Hello, mortal man. I'm Jeorge, and this is my sister Jeorgia and my junior, Jerry. We're jinns.”

“They all begin with J,” Becka murmured, impressed.

“That's interesting,” the Dastard said, bored. “What are you doing?”

“We're digging out a precious Jeode we located by sheer chance,” Jeorge said proudly. As he spoke, it came free.

“It looks like a dull rock,” the Dastard said disparagingly.

“Oh, but it isn't,” the jinn said. He tapped it, and it fell into two halves. In each half was a lovely three-dimensional picture of a beautiful scene.

“This is a representation of our long-lost home,” Jeorgia said raptly. “It exists only within special stones: Jeodes. We have searched for a century to find one, and now by incredible luck we have found it.”

“We could search for another century,” Jerry said, “and never find another. They're very rare.”

“How did you come across it?” Becka asked, obviously intrigued.

“I happened to see the faintest glint from a speck on its surface in a momentary beam of sunlight,” Jeorge said. “Had I not by amazing fortune been looking in that direction at that instant, I would have missed it.”

“This is the culmination of our eternal ambition,” Jeorgia said. “Now we can at last relax and bask in its special beauty and relevance to our lost land.”

“But why don't you just go home, if you like it so much?” Becka asked.

A tear welled in Jerry's eye. “We can't,” he said. “It was destroyed by a terrible storm.”

“That sounds like Fracto,” Becka said. “The worst of clouds.”

“Yes, it was Cumulo Fracto Nimbus,” Jeorgia agreed. “He's really a type of demon. The Demon Queen was so angry at this breach of interdisciplinary etiquette that she enchanted him to take solid form for the next three-point-nine years. But the damage was done, and Fracto has long since finished his sentence and returned to his mean-spirited ways, while we searched endlessly for what little we could salvage of our home.” She gazed at the scenes in the half stones. “Now at last we have our desire.”

“The Demon Queen can do that?” Becka asked, amazed.

“Oh, yes,” Jerry answered. “She could transform King Dor into a dor-mouse if she wanted to.”

The Dastard had heard enough. He grabbed Becka's hand and slid into limbo. He went back an hour, to before the jinns spied the stone, and emerged in Xanth.

“As if I need to ask what you are going to do,” Becka said sourly.

“You agreed not to interfere,” he reminded her.

“I wish I hadn't.”

The Dastard used a stick to scrape dirt over the tiny portion of the stone that showed, and packed it down firmly with his foot so that the beam of sun would never catch it. Then he grabbed Becka's reluctant hand again and returned to the present.

There were no jinns. They had passed this spot and never paused.

The Jeode remained hidden, and it would probably never be discovered.

The Dastard walked on, well satisfied. Becka was silent.

They came to a man working on a set of cones. “What are you doing?” Becka asked.

“Don't bother,” the Dastard said. “It's not a nexus.”

“So at least you won't destroy it,” she retorted.

“Oh you wouldn't want to destroy this,” the man said, overhearing them. “It's a very special hourglass timer.”

“A timer? Don't all hourglasses time hours?”

“This one uses a mixture of quick sand and slow sand. It can be set to time any amount of time, simply by changing the ratio.”

“Great!” she exclaimed. But the Dastard dragged her on. There was a nexus ahead. At least it seemed to be; the feeling was different from the usual, but very strong.

There, coming toward them on the path, was the mysterious greenhaired princess he had seen in the vision of the future. She was every bit as wonderful as he had ever dreamed. Her bosom jiggled in her tight low-cut blouse, and her skirt was so short it barely covered her panties, and she was smiling at him.

“That's the princess!” Becka whispered, astonished. “Complete with her little crown.”

The princess walked boldly up to them. “Hello,” she said cheerily. “I'm Princess Melody. I am visiting Xanth for four days. You look like an interesting man.”

The Dastard was speechless for a moment. This was partly because the last thing he had expected was for her to approach him directly, and partly because from up this close he could see down into her flexing bosom.

Becka took up the slack. “Hello, Princess. I'm Becka, and this is the--he calls himself Dashing.”

“He certainly looks dashing to me,” Melody said. “I think I'll kiss him.” She stepped up close and planted her lovely warm mouth on his.

The Dastard was not only speechless, he was senseless. He collapsed in a heap. Only a glimmer of consciousness remained, just enough to enable him to hear their dialogue and feel their touches.

“Oh, horrors, he must have fainted,” the princess cried, sweetly dismayed. She touched him with her soft hands, setting his limp body straight.

“I think he's just surprised,” Becka said. “Still, I never saw him as the fainting type.”

“Maybe the lip bomb helped,” the princess said somewhat smugly.

“Lip balm?”

“Never mind. Why are you with him?”

“The Good Magician assigned me to help him. So I'm trying to do that, though I can't say I like it. How is it that you came here?”

“That's my business, my pet. Do you think he likes me?”

“I'm sure he does,” the girl said. “You see, we saw a vision of you in his future. He--I think he started to fall in love with you then. But we didn't know who you were.”

“I told you: I'm Princess Melody.”

“But you can't be! She's only four years old.”

There was a pause. Then there was a different quality to the Princess' voice. “That has changed. I am from Planet Ptero. I exchanged places with my younger Self so I could come here. I am twenty-one years old, and I think the Dastard is handsome.”

“How do you know his name?” Becka demanded. “I introduced him as Dashing.”

“You ask a lot of questions, my pet. You risk getting answers you don't like.”

“You're the Sea Hag!” Becka exclaimed. “I'd know you anywhere.”

And the Dastard realized she was right. His dream princess had finally come to him--Possessed by his enemy. What a dire pass!

“Well, this time I'm not going away, you sniveling brat. If you try to tell him, I'll take away your stupid herbs and Possess you again.”

The threat was evidently effective, for the girl shut hastily up.

The Dastard decided to play dumb, so that the Sea Hag would not know he knew of the Possession. He groaned and stirred.

“Oh, you poor man,” the princess cooed. “Let me help you rise.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hauled him halfway up. This wasn't very efficient at getting him back to his feet, but was very, very efficient at plastering her soft bosom against his shoulder and head.

He had distinctly mixed feelings. He loved the contact, but hated the fact that it was really the Sea Hag. He had a notion how the Hag worked: She Possessed a lovely young body, then seduced the man she wanted to hurt, making him love her. She had a long history--millennia long--of torturing the men who had annoyed her in some trifling way, or maybe just for the bleep of it, and finally driving them to suicide. He wasn't the suicidal type, but he was fairly sure she could make him miserable if he ever let her get to him.

If only he could have encountered this lovely young princess when she was herself! Of course he could unhappen the Possession, rescuing the Princess from the Hag. She should be duly grateful, and that could be an excellent start. But there was one significant problem: She wouldn't remember. The girl Becka was the only one besides himself who ever remembered an unhappening. And that was only because of a spell the Good Magician had given her. He was pretty sure the Good Magician wouldn't give the princess such a spell.

He managed to get to his feet, with the princess' seductive help. He stood unsteadily, facing Becka. “What happened?” he asked groggily.

“Princess Melody kissed you, and you fainted,” the girl said.

That much was true; the kiss had been potent. Now he knew why: He had heard of something called lip bomb that blew away the one kissed; the Hag had indicated that she had used that on him. He had been intrigued by the lovely princess; now he was fascinated. The kiss had made him eager to do her bidding, if it led to more such activity.

Obviously the Hag had come prepared. He had unhappened her prior Possessions, so now she was being more careful. She had taken a body he couldn't resist, and had promptly bombed him with a kiss. She was definitely out to capture his emotion.

What she didn't know was that he had no soul. He had emotions, but was incapable of love. He wanted to marry a princess for cold practical reasons: to achieve prominence, a life of indolence, and have all the stork-summoning he wanted. Becka thought that was love, but it was merely desire for what was good for him. So the Sea Hag could not make him her love slave.

Still, she could do him much mischief. Each time he unhappened one of her Possessions, she returned with another, and if she ever decided that he was not worth her while, she would come as an ogress and smash him into oblivion. So just as she was getting more cautious about him, he realized that he had to get more cautious about her. She was dangerous.

So he would have to play along with her, until he figured out a better way to deal with her. Meanwhile, he could no longer prolong his guise of dizziness; he would have to say something. “I fainted,” he agreed.

“You poor man,” the princess said sympathetically. “Let me comfort you.” She embraced him.

The contact was very nice. He put his arms around her; he could hardly help it. But this meant that he could see past her lovely head to where Becka was standing, for the moment out of sight of the princess.

The girl lifted a small placard on which she had scribbled two words: SEA HAG. Then she put it away.

So she had not been completely cowed by the Hag's threat. She had bided her time, and informed him of the danger when she could. She really was helping him. He appreciated that, though he had already figured it out for himself. Now they both knew that they both knew. And surely Becka understood why he hesitated to unhappen the Possession immediately. He needed to learn more about the Sea Hag, so as to discover how to abolish her so that she could not return to plague him. He could afford to delay as long as she did not realize he knew her identity.

But that didn't solve the problem. How could he get rid of the Sea Hag, without having her come back in some more dangerous form, and without prejudicing his case with the princess? Because he did want the princess. She was everything he desired, and he might never have a better chance to win her--if he just played his hand correctly.

He would simply have to play along until something forced him to act. Maybe if he got to know her better, the Sea Hag would let slip some weakness, some clue to the riddle of her nature that would enable him to be permanently free of her. It was his best chance.

Meanwhile, the princess was still embracing him. She was marvelously soft and suggestive. But if he yielded to temptation, it would be the Hag who governed him. He couldn't afford to do anything with the princess until she was herself. So he sought to disengage. “This place is--is too public,” he said.

She squeezed him once more, pneumatically, then let him go. “I know a private place,” she murmured.

Surely she did. He could not afford to go there. The form she had taken was too alluring. She would tempt him into something the princess would not forget or forgive, when she got her body back, if she learned of it, and that would ruin any future he might have with her. But how could he avoid it?

Becka stepped in. “Dashing, you can't tarry with her. You have to go unhappen something.”

“No you don't,” the princess said sharply. That was another giveaway: The princess would not know his nature, while the Hag did. “I can show you something much better.”

It was a straw, and he grasped it. “No, she's right. I have to unhappen something every day. I must do it now.” That was a lie, but a really necessary one. Would she fall for it?

“But this is a huge potential unhappening,” the princess Hag said, falling for it. “One truly worthy of your talent. And only I know where to find it.”

Again, this would have given her away, had she not already done that: How did she know about the nature of his talent? The word “unhappen” should have confused the princess. But the Sea Hag understood it well.

“Where?” he asked guardedly.

“It's on the Isle of Fellowship,” she said eagerly. “One of the temporary islands off the coast of Xanth. It is hidden most of the time, but I know how to invoke it. Come, handsome man; I will lead you to it.”

“But the coast is far away,” Becka protested.

“Then you will take us there, dragon girl,” the princess said.

Was this a good choice? Was there really an island, or was this some other nefarious scheme of the Sea Hag? He would just have to find out. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with someone who was a worse person than he was. “Very well. We'll go there. But it had better be worth my while.” The truth was that the notion of a really significant unhappening excited him almost as much as the prospect of marrying a lovely princess.

He looked at Becka, who still hesitated. “I can't carry two people through the air,” she said.

“But you can move rapidly along the ground, my pet, can't you?” the princess said. “That will do.”

The girl looked as if she wanted to protest some more, but finally changed into her dragon form. She stood there with her bright green scales with their purple tips. The Dastard helped the princess to climb onto the dragon's back, then mounted himself, using pillows plucked from a pillow bush to protect their legs. She sat before him, close and warm and excruciatingly desirable.