Five Portraits Page 12

“There’s an adage that if you don’t have something good to say, say nothing,” Art said. “So I will shut up, and go paint a picture.”

  The others followed his lead, except that they didn’t paint any pictures. Meanwhile they went about their business, checking for a pun virus and taking care of children. It all would have been perfectly ordinary, but for the looming Demon decision.

  The next day as the hour approached they sat in a circle with the children and waited. What would happen would happen.

  The Demon court appeared. Xanth was on one side, in the form of Nimby the Dragon Ass, buttressed by his lovely mortal human wife Chlorine and handsome fifteen-year-old crossbreed son Nimbus. Fornax was on the other side, in lovely human semblance, alone. That seemed horribly symbolic.

  “Prosecution, make your case,” Nemesis said.

  Kandy stood. “There are many arguments that can be made about mitigating circumstances. But we are here to judge a narrow issue: did Demoness Fornax intervene in the Land of Xanth by saving the life of a child who would otherwise have died? Did she thus mess up the natural course of a Demon Wager? The answer is clear: she did. That child.” She indicated Squid, who now sat with Ease. “Fornax is guilty. That’s all there is to it.” Kandy sat down again, beside Squid, who took her hand. Her eyes were dry, but Astrid knew she was weeping inside. She really liked Squid, and hated having to argue the case for her death.

  “Defense, make your case,” Nemesis said impassively.

  Astrid stood. “There is no doubt Fornax is guilty,” she said. “The question is why did she do it? That requires a little bit of history. When Kandy agreed to serve as Fornax’s intermediary in the Land of Xanth, she did it in order to save my life. It was a business deal for Fornax, but an act of friendship for Kandy, and I am alive today because of that friendship. In the interim I have also become the friend of Fornax. When one of the children we fetched from the future was about to die, I appealed to Fornax to save her, and she did. This was not a business deal, but an act of friendship on Fornax’s part. It also safeguards the program we have instituted to save the Land of Xanth from destruction in fifty years, to which the five children are integral. Without them Xanth will perish. So Fornax, for the sake of friendship, acted against her own interest, because she stands to win her Demon Wager if the Land of Xanth is destroyed. Friendship can be like this.”

  Astrid paused to formulate her continuing case. She saw Chlorine and Nimbus react, glancing at each other, then at Squid, who smiled uncertainly. Apparently they had not known about the peril Xanth was in, or Fornax’s part in rescuing it; the Demon Xanth had not felt they needed that information. Not that it mattered; they were not among the judges.

  “So if there is such a thing as mitigating circumstances, they apply to what Fornax did. She acted from friendship and with decency, and I think should be applauded rather than condemned. But she did do it. The decision is in your hands.”

  Astrid sat down, ending her case. Was it sufficient? She doubted it, but it was the best she could do. The three Demon Judges seemed absolutely unmoved.

  “The judges will now render their Decision,” Nemesis said. “Demon Earth?”

  “Guilty.”

  “Demon Jupiter?”

  “Guilty.”

  “And I also vote—” Demon Nemesis broke off. “Yes, Demon Xanth?”

  “My wife and son have required me to drop the case,” Xanth said, evidently somewhat nettled. “Accordingly, I withdraw the charge.”

  “Case is dropped. Court is adjourned,” Nemesis said, and the three Judges vanished, leaving only Chlorine, Nimbus, and Fornax.

  “We have no brief for you, Demoness Fornax,” Chlorine said. “But we do for the innocent child. And for the future of the Land of Xanth, which is our heritage. We are annoyed that my husband did not save the child, though that would have constituted interference in the Wager on his part, so we understand. We thank you for doing what you did on our behalf.”

  “And we will remember,” Nimbus said. Then Chlorine and Nimbus vanished.

  Astrid was amazed. The Demons had been in the act of voting against Fornax, as expected. But Chlorine was human, and Nimbus half-human. They cared about children, and the future, which was their future too. And they had made the difference.

  The Playground had been correct. This argument had accomplished Astrid’s purpose.

  Squid got up and walked across to Fornax. “Thank you for saving me,” she said.

  Fornax smiled, and it seemed genuine. “You’re welcome.”

  But the child did not let it go there. “Why did you do it?”

  “I am trying to learn the values of souled creatures. They don’t let children die.”

  “Oh.” Squid seemed disappointed.

  “And we had to save you to keep our project going.”

  “Yes.” She still did not seem much enthused.

  Astrid realized that Fornax needed some help, as she did not understand the feeling of small mortal children. And she’s cute, she thought.

  “And you’re cute.”

  “Oh!” Squid liked that answer better.

  And she’s like you, in her isolation.

  “And you are an alien creature in a human realm, just as I am an alien matter creature in a terrene realm.”

  Squid was able to pick up enough of that. “You’re like me!”

  “Yes. I know what it’s like.”

  “It’s scary and lonely,” Squid said.

  “Yes it is,” the Demoness agreed.

  “But I’m getting new friends. That helps.”

  “So am I. It does help.”

  “Can I hug you?”

  “That would be dangerous. Will you accept a virtual hug?”

  “What is that?”

  “I will make an image, like a ghost. You can hug that, carefully.”

  “Okay.”

  A ghostly image of Fornax appeared before her. It reached down to the child. Squid put her little arms around it, not quite touching, and hugged. Then she let go and backed away.

  “If you ever visit my galaxy,” Fornax said, “I have a castle there that is terrene. There I can assume terrene form. Then I would be able to hug you for real, and give you eye scream and chocolate cake.”

  The Demoness was learning.

  “It’s a date,” Squid said enthusiastically.

  Astrid saw tears in Kandy’s eyes. That was not surprising; they were in her own eyes too.

  Chapter 7:

  Dungeons

  “Now we need to get serious about the adoptions,” Kandy said. “Before—”

  “Before anything else happens,” Astrid agreed.

  “How should we go about this? Range out across Xanth looking for promising couples? That does seem a bit—”

  “A bit too practical,” Astrid agreed. “These aren’t bricks to be laid down in a foundation; they’re living, feeling children.”

  “Hey, are you a brick?” Win asked Myst.

  “A foggy one,” Myst replied, dissolving into a roughly brick-shaped little cloud.

  “I’ll blow you away!” Win put her face down so that the wind behind her pushed at the mist. Myst quickly returned to human, laughing.

  “Maybe we should ask the Playground,” Squid said. “It worked before.”

  A glance circled around, too high for the children but touching most of the adult eyes. “It did indeed,” Astrid agreed. “Though not the way we expected. This seems chancy. Maybe we should ponder it another day, then—”

  Now the glance descended and circled around the children’s eyes. “Let’s see,” Firenze said.

  The children drew together, linked hands, and focused. And fell apart as if shocked. “Maybe not,” Squid gasped.

  “What happened?” Astrid asked, concerned.

  Firenze sighed. “It’s, well, it’s the best
and worst idea. Double or nothing. If we win, we win everything. If we lose, we lose everything. It’s scary.”

  “What, just deciding whether to wait a day before deciding whether to query the Playground?” Kandy asked.

  “Not exactly,” Firenze said. “There’s something big. We don’t know what it is.”

  “We have to ask the Playground to find out,” Santo said. “But then we’ll be in it, and it’ll be happening.”

  “Then maybe you should stay out,” Kandy said. “That Playground’s sort of spooky anyway.”

  “No, that’s worse,” Win said.

  “We can’t wait,” Myst agreed.

  “This makes me nervous,” Art said. “How can we be sure that all that magic in the Playground really is on our side?”

  “It’s neutral,” Firenze said. “It doesn’t care who uses it.”

  “It’s not the Playground that’s scary,” Santo said. “Just—”

  “Just what?” Astrid asked sharply.

  “It’s like stepping in a hole,” Squid said. “The hole doesn’t care; it’s just there.”

  “But it can be dangerous,” Santo said.

  “Let me see if I have this straight,” Astrid said. “Something’s afoot, and the Playground relates, but it’s not the Playground we need to worry about?”

  Again the children fidgeted. “Not exactly,” Firenze said.

  “We don’t have to worry about a hole,” Firenze said. “If we’re careful of it.”

  “But whatever it is,” Kandy said, “will just get worse if we wait, even for a day? Like a hole that’s growing?”

  All the children nodded.

  “Then we’d better act,” Ease said. He generally favored action, whatever the situation.

  Again the children nodded.

  Astrid glanced at Fornax, who stood in ghostly guise. I am aware of something, but may not tell you, lest I be guilty of interfering again.

  Certainly that was to be avoided. The last call had been entirely too close. “Let’s compromise,” Astrid said. “Let me and the children go in, as before, and put on a playlet, as before, and then consider this question again. Get the answer, then get out quickly, before whatever it is strikes. Then we should be better prepared.”

  “While the rest of us stand guard outside,” Kandy agreed. “At least we’ll have better information.”

  “I guess,” Santo said uncertainly. He brought out the matchbox.

  “Wait!” Astrid said. “We don’t have a Play to give yet.”

  “We’ll think of one,” Firenze said.

  The other children pitched in and soon had the Playground unfolded beside the camp.

  “Let’s do it,” Astrid said. She was not at all comfortable with this, but wanted some resolution soon.

  She and the five children walked into the Playground while the others watched. It was clear that nobody was easy about this, but no one had a better course of action to suggest. Fornax walked invisibly beside Astrid, looking uncomfortable. She wanted to speak, but didn’t dare. Astrid couldn’t blame her, after the close call of the Demon trial; any transgression would be caught and punished.

  The Playground was exactly as before, with nothing out of order. They approached the stage. “Now we need a Play,” Santo said.

  But before they could devise anything, something else happened. The edges of the Playground curled up as if tweaked by unknown hands.

  “It’s happening!” Win cried.

  “Get out of here!” Astrid snapped, urging the children back toward the entrance. “Before it closes up! Run!”

  But the entrance was already curling worse than the rest. Their escape was blocked. This was clearly a trap; they were to be folded into the matchbox.

  Astrid didn’t know whether they would survive that. The normal furnishings, such as the swings, slides, and stage, were obviously made to handle it. But what about living things? Best not to risk it.

  Was there any alternative? Maybe.

  “This way!” she cried, herding them to the DO NOT ENTER section beside the stage. They all piled in as the folding closed around the stage, crumpling it along marked lines, like cardboard.

  And there they were in the Storage chamber, where the Mad Birds battled the Nasty Prigs. Astrid was relieved to see that no folding was occurring here. Maybe that was the design, to protect living creatures when the Playground was not in use. They were safe for the moment.

  But how were they to escape, if the Playground beyond was becoming a matchbox?

  “Mad Birds,” Win said, looking around. “Neat.”

  “This is where they are stored,” Firenze said. “They just go right on fighting the prigs, when off-duty.”

  “Can we go back now?” Myst asked. “I have to poop.” She could say the word when it was literal, just not when invoked as a cussword.

  Astrid hastily checked the DO NOT EXIT pavement beside them. She stepped on it, but it did not budge. That suggested that there was no escape there. She controlled her alarm. “Not yet.”

  “I can’t wait,” Myst said, beginning to cry.

  “Change into mist and do it then,” Squid suggested.

  “Okay, don’t blow me away.” Myst changed and hovered as a little cloud. After a generous moment a small blob of mist separated and floated off. Then she changed back, her business accomplished.

  Meanwhile Firenze was looking around. “No exit?” he asked Astrid quietly.

  She nodded grimly. “It probably won’t open until the Playground gets unfolded. That’s actually for our safety. We could be stuck here for some time.”

  “We’d better consult,” he said. Then he addressed the other children. “It’s happened. Now we know what it’s about: we’re caught inside the Playground Storage chamber. We can’t go back the way we came. It smells like a trap.”

  “We knew it was coming,” Santo said. “But not how to handle it. At least it’s not so bad.”

  “Is there another way out?” Squid asked.

  Firenze spread his hands.

  “I could make a hole,” Santo said.

  “Caution,” Astrid said quickly. “That could be like punching a hole in a balloon, when we’re floating inside the balloon.” The other children winced, understanding the analogy. If the Playground blew out or collapsed through a hole…

  “It could,” he agreed. “I’ll stick to small holes, when we need them.”

  “So then how to we get out?” Squid asked.

  “Let’s consider a direction,” Astrid said. “You can link hands and decide whether it’s right.”

  “You point,” Firenze said. “We’ll decide. Directions are simple; we don’t need to enhance our power with a play or anything.”

  That was a relief. Astrid pointed randomly. The children grouped and reacted. “Cold,” Myst said.

  She pointed a quarter to the right. “Warmer.”

  Another quarter turn. “Hot.”

  “Then I think we’ll go this way, since it seems there is a way out,” she said. “But stay together, because we don’t know what else we’ll encounter, here in Storage. There could be dragons, trolls, or goblins.”

  “Maybe we’d better figure out how to handle those, just in case,” Firenze said.

  “I could make holes in them,” Santo said.

  “Perhaps you should wait on that,” Astrid said. “I can handle most creatures with a simple stare. We can warn them, then stare them, and if that doesn’t do it, then you can hole them.”

  “Okay,” Santo said. “Just tell me when. I can get in trouble when I do it on my own.”

  “I’ll bet,” Firenze said, smiling. “Same way I can get in trouble when I get mad.”

  “Yeah,” Santo said, smiling back. The two boys seemed to like each other. One was a natural leader, the other a potentially deadly antagonist. It was best that they get along well.

  Astrid started walking across the plain, and the children followed
. The three girls were in the middle, the two boys at the back. The mad birds and prigs ignored them; they weren’t part of that game.

  They passed a clump of pie plants. “Meal break,” Astrid announced. “We’re lucky this is here.”

  “It’s part of making the path good,” Firenze said.

  So it was no coincidence. That made sense. The right route needed not only to get them out, but to safeguard them along the way. The children’s ability to sense the right course, even without the enhancement of the Playground, was increasingly impressing her.

  They filled up on redberry, blueberry, and yellowberry pies, together with little cups of soda pop that popped vigorously when drunk. Other children found places in the bushes to do their stuff. They rested briefly; then, refreshed, resumed their walk.

  “I wish I knew what you are thinking, friend,” Astrid murmured to ghostly Fornax.

  “I wish I could tell you,” Fornax replied.

  Astrid got an idea. “But maybe I can guess. There could be a Demon behind this ploy, arranging to get trolls or some such to steal the Playground and keep us prisoner, making it seem like a natural event so you can’t act to stop it without disqualifying yourself.”

  Fornax was studiedly neutral.

  “And I’m guessing that that Demon is Nemesis, who will let us go only if you agree to become his plaything.”

  Fornax made no expression, but her image seemed to be giving off a wisp of steam.

  “Because he has seen how you have made yourself vulnerable by forming a friendship with a souled person or two, and learning to value the lives of mortal children. To him that’s foolish weakness.”

  “I must depart for a while,” the demoness said, and faded out before the steam further intensified.

  Astrid glanced around. “Not that she told us anything.”

  “Not,” the children agreed almost together.

  “You know, I don’t care much about big or little D Demons one way o the other,” Santo said. “But I think if I tried hard enough, I could get to like that one.”

  “I already like her,” Squid said.

  “So do I,” Astrid agreed.

  The path led to a trench slanting downward to a closed door. On the door was printed the word DUNGEON.