Two To The Fifth (17 page)

She hauled him to the ground with her. She was intoxicatingly female despite losing much of the drink. “Quite sure.”

In due course their hour ended, Rhythm reverted, and they sank blissfully into normal sleep, side by side. If Melete found that improper, she didn't say. Maybe she had been freaked out by their naughtiness. Or just maybe she had enjoyed the show.

In the morning they organized and made ready to resume following the pastel trail. Cyrus assumed it would get them there on time. He checked on the troupe via Don, and was pleased that things there remained completely dull.

There was a swirl of smoke. “What is happening sound?”

Cyrus and Kadence stared. “Did that smoke talk?” Kadence asked.

“I think it did,” Cyrus said.

“Metria, go away,” Rhythm snapped.

“Happening how?” Cyrus asked, perplexed.

“Don't say that!” Rhythm said, “It will only get her started.”

“Approved, solid, boom, bell, echo, noise, listen—”

“Hear?” he asked.

“Whatever,” the smoke agreed, irritated.

“Here!” Kadence exclaimed. “What is happening here!”

“Exactly what I said,” the smoke said, forming into a luscious human female body. “I recognize Princess Rhythm, but who the bleep are you?”

“I'm Kadence,” the girl said. “I'm six years old.”

“Ooof! You're a child. I take back the bleep.”

“And this is the Demoness Metria,” Rhythm said with resignation. “She's always a nuisance.”

Cyrus sorted through his memory bank. There she was, a mischievvous demoness with a speech impediment dating from the time she was stepped on by a Sphinx. “Hello, Metria,” he said. “I am Cyrus Cyborg, and this is my—” He caught himself. “My young friend Kadence.”

The demoness studied him. then Kadence, then Rhythm. “I'll be bleeped! There's a family favor. You must be related.”

“Go away,” Rhythm said. “It's none of your business.”

“In fact she looks like a young Sorceress. I'd almost think—but you're too young for that.”

“Obviously,” Rhythm said.

“Not that obious. You're a winsome girl who could almost pass for a woman and charm a man if she tried hard enough, if he didn't care about the Adult Conspiracy. Except that you couldn't have a six-year-old—” The demoness paused, noticing the bed. “What's that?”

“Don't touch it,” Cyrus said quickly.

“Why so sensitive?” Metria asked, moving the the bed. “Did someone do something naughty on it?” She sat down on it.

And exploded into noxious vapor.

“Oops,” Rhythm said, seeming not completely dismayed.

“What the bleep is this thing?” the vapor asked. “It feels like a goose melody!”

“A what?” Cyrus asked.

“Swan song!” Kadence said gleefully. It seemed she was also good at organizing words.

“It's a death bed,” Cyrus explained. “I tried to tell you not to touch it.”

“I never do what I'm told.” The vapor coalesced into the sultry female form. “Good thing I'm not really alive.”

“Good thing,” Cyrus echoed. Now he understood why Rhythm had not wanted the demoness here. If she fathomed their situation, she would blab it all over Xanth. She needed to be diverted or distracted.

“So what are you three travelers up to?” Metria inquired.

Rhythm opened her mouth, but Cyrus spoke first. “I am a Playwright, and these two have parts.”

“I'm the Prompter,” Kadence said proudly.

“A Playwright,” Metria said. “I always wanted to be an actress.”

That was exactly the reaction he had hoped for. Let her get carried away by dreams of grandeur on the stage, and maybe she would forget about family resmeblances. “I am currently recruiting for actors. But can you act?”

“Can I act!” she exclaimed. “I am always acting! Even I don't always know exactly who I am.”

“Then maybe I'll write a part for you in the next play. But you will have to be able to memorize lines and deliver them clearly and effectively.”

“I'll do it! See you there.” She faded out.

“You may be smarted than you look,” Rhythm murmured.

“I hope so.”

They set out, following the line. Fortunately the demoness hadn't caught on to that, or the nature of their mission.

“However,” Rhyghtm murmured again. “She isn't always as absent as she appears to be. So don't say anything about anything.”

“Got it.”

They came to a stand with an instrument on it. The instrument seemed to have a section attached to a cord that could be lifted. Cyrus reache for it.

“Don't touch it!” Rhythm said. “I recognize it: that's a tell-a phone.”

“A telephone?”

“It gives you a horrible urge to tell it things, heedless of your surroundings. You would surely tell it too much. Someone might overhear.”

Oh. “I won't touch it,” he agreed.

They moved on, but soon encountered another thing. In fact it was a pile of things. One was a big letter E made of iron. Another was the letter N made of gold. Another looked like a container filled with salt. “Are these safe to touch?” he asked, having learned caution.

“I know!” Kadence said. “Those are piled up puns! Irony, GoldeN, and a salt. Assault. Better not touch it, because it will attack you! And there's B-salt, that will turn you to salt if you touch it. And a pool of C-salt. And D-salt that will unsalt things. You don't want to mess with that either, because you don't want to lose the salt in your body.”

“Of course not,” Cyrus said.

Could it be coincidence that the pastel line was taking them past such dangers?

“Where's Melete?” Kadence asked.

Cyrus felt his pocket. It was empty. “Oh, no—I forgot to pick her up from the tree branch this morning!”

“That bleeping demoness distracted us,” Rhythm said. She evidently did not have the same trouble with swearing that her daughter did.

“I must go back for her.”

“We don't have time to do it without being observed. We're already running late.”

She was right. “I'll just have to pick her up when we return,” he decided. He wasn't comfortable about it, though. If he lost the Muse, how could he ever write his next play?

They followed the pastel line, which meandered so that soon Cyrus had no idea where they were going. It did lead them past enough pie trees to keep them fed, and to another campsite as evening approached. This one was by a nice-looking lake.

Cyrus did not quite trust this. “Anything could be in there,” he said.

Indeed, shapes were appearing. One was bare breasted. “A mermaid!” Kadence exclaimed.

“Hello,” the figure said. “I am Carla, your mermaid.” Her tail formed into legs, and she strode from the water. She was no longer bare, but formally clothed. That was just as well, because the maid's bare body in the water had tried to compel his gaze, and he had felt Rhythm's annoyance. She didn't like him staring at other women's bodies, for some reason.

A merman followed, similarly adjusting. “I am Carlos, your merbutler.”

“But we don't need—” Cyrus said.

Rhythm concentrated for half a moment. “They mean no harm,” she said, evidently having invoked more magic.

“Of course we don't,” Carla said. “We are here to make you comfortable during your stay by our lake.”

Cyrus did what he should have thought to do before, and riffled through his memory bank, “You have an estate under water,” he said. “Where guests can breathe.”

“Indeed we do,” Carlos agreed. “This way, please.” He walked back into the lake.

Cyrus exchanged a look with Rhythm. This might be worthwhile, but he didn't fully trust it, because the pastel line had been leading them past seemingly coincidental dangers.

Rhythm nodded. She would be alert. She took his hand, and Kadence's hand.

“You're beautiful, when you try, Mother,” Kadence remarked.

Now Cyrus realized what he hadn't noticed in his distraction: Rhythm had assumed her adult form. She must have invoked the Decade spell when the merfolk appeared. Why?

“So they won't separate us, dear,” Rhythm replied to his thought, squeezing his hand suggestively.

Oh. How had he won the love of such a passionate princess? He surely did not deserve it.

“You didn't win it,” she said. “It was given to you, and you spurned it.”

He had been trying to honor the Adult Conspiracy. He should have known he never had a chance when a jealous Sorceress fixed her eye on him.

“Right on,” she agreed.

They were now below the surface of the lake, breathing naturally. The distraction of Rhythm had made him miss the actual immersion.

“I'm a wild one,” she agreed, “I'm barbaric.” She loved teasing him about his quest for a barbarian wench.

“Mother, I wish you would stop answering his thoughts,” Kadence said, “It drives me crazy wondering what horrible Conspiracy things he's thinking at you.”

“That's the beauty of the Conspiracy,” Rhythm agreed. “It tortures children every which way.”

“I was just basking in the love of your mother,” Cyrus said to Kadence.

The merbutler led them to a fine house, “Carla will make your bed while I serve your dinner,” Carlos said.

“What about me?” Kadence asked.

A third mer person appeared, “I am your mernanny,” she said. “I will see to your needs this night.”

Kadence was surprised. “What needs?”

“For relaxation and entertainment. Do you like I-scream? Cookies? Tsoda pop? Pewter games?”

Kadence smiled. “Those are my needs,” she agreed.

The butler was as good as his word. He served a sumptuous dinner with ent wine at the start and intert wine at the end. The first twisted Cyrus's mind pleasantly, and the second made the two of them socialize closely. He could hardly wait to be alone with Rhythm in the bedroom.

Then he had a horrible thought. “The hour has passed!”

“No it hasn't, dear. I'm using illusion to emulate my adult self. I'll invoke the spell when we're alone.”

He stared at her “But my thoughts—I didn't limit them. There may have been all manner of forbidden things. Especially after the second drink.”

“There were,” she said smugly.

“And your appearance, that dress—you're showing the upper surfaces of full breasts.”

“It's nice to have my effort of illusion appreciated.”

“Do you realize you're getting me deeper and deeper into Violation?”

“Deeper and deeper,” she agreed dreamily. “I've got rhythm, of course.”

He blushed, “I didn't mean it that way!”

“I did.”

“You minx! You should be ashamed.”

“Yes. Awfully. You should spank me.” She sent a mental image of a bare bottom.

He was appalled. That was no child's bottom. “Rhythm—”

“Let's skip dessert.” she said, producing the Decade sphere, “This will do instead.”

He could not argue. He had been hopelessly compromised, and was even more hopelessly in love.

They adjourned to the bedroom, which the mermaid had prepared very nicely. They kissed and fell together on the bed and generated the most intense ellipsis yet.

Then, as they lay panting after the effort. Rhythm paused sharply.

“What?” he asked, bemused that she could do that. Other people's pauses were usually dull, not sharp.

“Kadence. She's in danger.” She scrambled off the bed, grabbing for her clothing, which resembled her illusion dress exactly.

“We shouldn't have trusted her away from us,” Cyrus said, diving into his own clothing, which he had somehow managed to shed beside the bed. “That nanny—”

“Not her fault,” Rhythm said. “This is something else.”

They hurried out of the room and went to Kadence's room. They charged inside without knocking.

The child was reaching for an object. It looked like a small statue of a mermaid, with beautifully flowing hair, a full bare bosom, and a splendid tail. The nanny was watching, unconcerned.

Both paused as the two burst in.

“Don't touch it!” Rhythm cried.

“It's harmless,” the nanny protested. “It's just a statue of my grandmother in her prime. She was a supreme object of desire.”

“I'll touch it,” Rhythm said grimly. She went up and poked one finger at the statue.

The statue exploded into vapor. A noxious cloud formed, then shaped into a horrendous demon. “I am the object of D's ire,” he proclaimed, “Anyone who touches me suffers my ire. Woe to you, you nasty brat.” His huge hands moved forward as if to catch and squeeze someone's puny neck.

Only it was Rhythm's neck they closed on, not the child's. “Woe to who?” she asked evenly as electricity played about the contact.

“What the bleep are you?” the demon demanded, surprised.

“I am the Sorceress Rhythm. And you are about to be one hurting demon. Did you think you could attack my daughter and not answer to me?” The electricity intensified.

The demon tried to let go, but the current held his hands locked in place. “Ooooww!” he howled in pain.

“Exactly.” The current intensified further. Smoke began to rise from his burning hands.

“I didn't knooow!” he protested. “I was just following orders. Oooo, that smarts!”

“What orders?” Cyrus demanded.

“To eliminate the child.”

So there was a plot! “Who gave them?”

“It was—was—” But then the demon exploded into awful nothingness.

“Bleep,” Rhythm swore, “I overdid it.”

The nanny was staring at them, horrified. “I had no idea!” she said, “The nasty demon must have taken the place of my statue. I'm so sorry. I never would have led any child into danger.”

Rhythm glanced at her, and nodded, verifying that she was telling the truth. “You had no way of knowing. But I think I had better keep my daughter with me now, just in case.”

“Yes, by all means,” the nanny agreed, shaken.

“Can she come too?” Kadence asked plaintively. “She's nice.”

Rhythm laughed. “Very well, but she must agree not to tell what she sees of our private lives.”

“Oh, of course,” the nanny agreed. “Nannies see everything, and tell nothing.”

It was surely true. So they retired to their own room, bringing Kadence and the mernanny along. As it turned out, the nanny continued to keep the child entertained, so that Cyrus and Rhythm could get some rest and sleep. Rhythm reverted to girlform, lying beside him, and the nanny pretended not to notice.