Heaven Cent (14 page)

“Baron Haulass of Shetland,” the manticore trumpeted, and a winged donkey trotted out.

“Duke Dragontail of Dimwit.” And a formidable dragon whose serpentine tail did drag walked out.

“Smokey of Stover.” This was a dragon of the smoking variety, ordinarily a landbound creature, but this variant did have vestigial wings. Dolph had never seen one quite like this, before, and wondered how it had come about.

“Snagglesnoot of Synchromesh.” This time a strange oily monster, with bright chrome teeth.

“Stanley Steamer, the once and future Gap Dragon.” Dolph almost cried out, for he knew Stanley of old, Ivy's pet. But Stanley was almost grown now, and would soon resume regular residence in the Gap Chasm. Dolph kept quiet, for he would give himself away if he went to talk with Stanley.

“Xap Hippogryph, sire of the bride.” Dolph took note of this one; he had never before seen Chex's father. Xap had the head and wings of a griffin, and the body of a horse, like a centaur gone wrong, but he was an extremely handsome creature. Dolph realized that Chem, the bride's dam, would not be present, for she was a straight centaur without wings. That was unfortunate. Presumably there would be a reception later, elsewhere, where she could attend. Dolph understood that the community of centaurs frowned on variants, so had not welcomed Chex. Thus it was the winged monsters who had adopted her. Dolph wasn't quite sure what that said about monsters, but he found that he was coming to like them better.

So it went, as griffins, chimerae, harpies, rocs, winged horses, and assorted dragons strutted onstage for their introductions—and these were only the dignitaries. The majority of the attending monsters were garden-variety, like himself in his present guise. Some were unusual, even so, such as the winged zombie dragon and the griffin skeleton from the gourd. It was impressive.

At last it was time for the wedding itself. The monsters formed into a great circle, and a rare winged mermaid sang a solo song of such great beauty and longing that every monster present seemed to wish only to cast itself into the turbulent sea, and Dolph suffered a pang of terrible regret that he had left Mela the merwoman behind. He realized that the mermaids all had some siren ancestry, and all could sing compellingly when they chose; this one's mother must have charmed a winged creature, so that the result was a crossbreed who qualified as a winged monster. She was certainly most alluring!

Then the mermaid flew to a tank of water reserved for her, for her tail got uncomfortable when dry; evidently she had wings but no ability to make legs. That was unfortunate. “Now the Simurgh,” Draco whispered. “Stay low.”

Dolph was amazed. He knew of the Simurgh; he had seen her in the tapestry. She was the eldest and wisest of all birds, so old she had seen the destruction and regeneration of the universe three times. She sat on a bough of the Tree of Seeds on Mount Parnassus, and governed where all of those seeds went. His mother had many rare and wonderful seeds given her by the Simurgh, but he had never heard of the great bird attending a social function.

The monsters waited expectantly; not even a growl broke the silence. Their eyes were fixed on a huge wooden perch mounted at one side of the clear area. It had been fashioned of several stout tree trunks lashed together with tangle tree tentacles, the strongest of structures.

A bright bird the size of a roc flew in from the south horizon, winging so swiftly and surely that there was no doubt she knew exactly where she was going. Her feathers were like veils of light and shadow, now one color and now another and mostly like the blue of the deepest and clearest sky. Her head seemed crested with fire, sparkling iridescently. She was the most magnificent bird Dolph could imagine. He had seen her image in the Tapestry, but the reality was overwhelmingly more impressive. It wasn't just the size or color; the Simurgh had a presence that manifested as she approached.

She came in and landed neatly on the perch, and both it and the mesa shook with the impact of her roosting. She folded her phenomenal wings, settled herself, and looked around. Her gaze seemed to touch every monster present, and all lowered their heads respectfully. That gaze touched even on Dolph; he was one of the smallest of creatures, lost in the throng, yet she saw him.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, PRINCE DOLPH? she inquired in his mind. YOU ARE NO MONSTER!

She recognized him! She knew he was an imposter here! Dolph started to attempt to answer, but she silenced him with her powerful thought. THAT WAS RHETORICAL, GOOD CHILD. HOLD YOUR PEACE, AND LEARN.

Then her attention passed elsewhere, and he could relax. What an experience! The Simurgh had spotted him instantly amidst the crowd, and seen right into his nature. He realized that she must have done the same for every other creature here; she knew them all. Yet it was only a moment before her survey was complete.

PROCEED, she thought to the entire assemblage.

Now for the first time the groom came into view: Cheiron Centaur, a handsome male with great folded silver wings and golden hooves. His mane was neatly combed, and his tail too; every hair was in order. He was a muscular creature in both his human and his equine aspects, ruggedly well constructed. He walked slowly to the center, then turned to stand facing the Simurgh, his features composed.

The trumpeters played the wedding march. From the far side an aisle opened, and down it walked Chex, sedately. Dolph was amazed again; she had been transformed. He had known her, hardly a day ago, as a female centaur with wings, Marrow's friend. Now she was absolutely beautiful. Her brown mane was so well brushed that it glowed, and she wore a diadem of bright roses on her head that heightened the quality of her eyes. Her wings were the same color as her eyes, gray as the overcast sky, and every feather shone. Her hide glistened from breasts to flank, and there was a bow of forget-me-not flowers in her tail. Even her four hooves were as clean and bright as mirrors, sparkling as she walked.

Chex came at last to stand beside Cheiron. They made a perfect pair, he so bold and strong, she so lovely and demure.

DEARLY BELOVED MONSTERS OF THE AIR, the Simurgh thought to them all, WE ARE GATHERED HERE TO UNITE THIS CENTAUR STALLION AND THIS CENTAUR MARE IN MATRIMONY. THERE ARE NO OBJECTIONS. FROM THIS UNION WILL COME ONE WHOSE LIFE WILL CHANGE THE COURSE OF THE HISTORY OF XANTH, AND ALL OF YOU WILL TREASURE AND PROTECT THAT ONE FROM HARM. LET ME HEAR YOUR OATH ON THIS.

Suddenly there was noise, as every creature on the plateau growled assent. Dolph did not understand this, and held back; how could he agree to an oath whose effect he did not know?

YOU TOO, PRINCE DOLPH, YOU MOST OF ALL, the Simurgh thought to him alone. Her mind carried the aura of immense significance, of the tides of history surging from the past to the future and back again irresistibly, all focusing on this moment. Now he knew, without understanding, why the Simurgh had come to preside over this ceremony; it was important to the things that only she understood completely. The coming foal was special.

Dolph became aware of the ongoing ceremony; the Simurgh had not waited for his thoughts to run their young course.

. . . AND DO YOU, YOU FETCHING FILLY, TAKE THIS STUD TO BE YOUR MATE?

“I do,” Chex agreed.

THEN BY THE POWER VESTED IN ME BY BEING WHAT I AM, I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU A MATED PAIR. KISS.

The groom and bride dutifully embraced their foresections and kissed. The assembled monsters roared their approval.

The Simurgh spread her wings and took off. In a moment she was in the sky, and in another winging toward the horizon.

DO NOT FORGET, GOOD CHILD, her parting thought came back to Dolph. He knew he would not forget; he only hoped some day to understand.

Then Cheiron and Chex backed off together, and a harpy flew up. Dolph saw with surprise that it was a male; he had never seen one of those before. “Let me snatch your attention before the festivities begin,” the harpy cried. “I am Hardy Harpy, and I am here to introduce my daughter Gloha, who will announce the gifts.”

Now the child flew up. She was a beautiful little goblin girl, with the wings of a bird, obviously not of the faerie folk, whose wings were like gauze. A flying crossbreed, therefore a winged monster, though she was as unlike a monster as could be imagined. Gloha—Dolph searched his memory, and remembered that there had been a harpy-goblin romance that had almost provoked war, Ivy had been involved with that, and naturally had not told him much. The goblin had been Glory, so the mergence of Glory and Hardy would be Gloha. He had it now. Probably this was a way of allowing the goblins, who were monsters but not winged, to participate nominally.

“First,” piped Gloha nervously, “from the Simurgh: three seeds.” She took a breath, and seemed to lose her place, because Hardy had to whisper in her ear. “Oh, yes: the envelope, please.”

A winged human skeleton stepped forward, carrying a seed packet. He handed it to Gloha, who opened it and peeked in. “The seeds of Life, Love, and Learning,” she said, passing the envelope along to Chex. There was a growl of applause from the throng of monsters. This was certainly a remarkable gift! Dolph wondered whether Chex would bring those seeds to his mother Irene, for help in making them grow well. Irene's talent was the Green Thumb; she could make anything grow, instantly.

“And, and—” Gloha announced after another prompting, reading from the second envelope brought by the skeleton, “from the guest monsters here ass—ass—” Another prompt from her father. “Assembled, a vacation on the honey side of the moon. A honeymoon!”

There was a louder roar of approval. Everyone knew mthat the moon was made of green cheese, at least the side that faced Xanth, and sometimes it reeked pretty strong, sickened by what it saw below. But the far side was not exposed to such a sight, and remained sweet honey, as the whole thing had been originally. It was reputed to be the most delightful of all places to be, but it required so much magic to get there that hardly anyone did it. The monsters must have pooled all their available extra magic for this gift!

The skeleton brought the third envelope. “And, from the monsters of the gourd, to be delivered by Mare Imbri, a full year of sweet dreams.” And as the monsters roared their approval, there was a passing flicker in the shape of an invisible horse. Mare Imbri was not technically a winged monster, but everyone knew her and liked her because of the pleasant daydreams she brought, and no regular monster could carry these, so no one protested her intrusion here.

“Now,” Hardy Harpy cried, “do we want to bother with the tedium of a receiving line, or shall we let them get on with the breeding?”

There was a deafening roar: the monsters were not here for tedium. Dolph listened, excited; he strongly suspected that this had something to do with the stork. Was he going to get to see how adults summoned it?

No such luck. Cheiron and Chex thanked the assemblage, then spread their wings and took off for the moon, which was now making a special appearance by day in all its fullness, so that the happy couple could conveniently reach it. Even so, it would be a long flight, so it was indeed best that they get started.

As the centaurs flew above the throng, Chex glanced down. Her gaze fell on Dolph. Her mouth fell open in surprise. She recognized him! But then she looked away, and soon the couple was silhouetted by the great bright globe of the moon. Chex, sweet creature that she was, had decided not to tell on him.

The manticore returned to the center stage. “Now we celebrate!” he fluted. “Refreshments are served on the north side; plenty of carrion available! Gaming on the south side; form your groups for Dungeons and Dragons!”

The monsters dissolved into chaos as each sought its desire. Dolph saw two griffins getting together, male and female, and suddenly he knew they were going to celebrate by summoning the stork. He started to make his way over there so he could watch and finally learn the secret that had so long been denied him.

“Hey, you're underage!” Draco said, catching him in a paw. “Time to go to the games!”

Dolph stifled a bad word. Even the monsters were part of the fiendish Adult Conspiracy! What was so awful about the mechanism that no child could be allowed to see it?

They forged toward the games. But now a new problem manifested. A thundercloud was trying to crash the party! King Cumulo Fracto Nimbus had spotted the activity, and was coming to drench it to awful sogginess.

There was consternation among the monsters, who were far too crowded to take off before the storm scored and soiled their feathers and splashed mud on their clean fur. Besides that, they didn't want their celebration washed out. What to do?

“You know,” Dolph said to Draco, “everyone here has wings. I bet if every monster tied down and flapped its wings, they could blow off Fracto.”

“Now that's a notion!” Draco said. “I'd better relay it, because if you tell it—”

“Right,” Dolph agreed. He did not want any attention focused on him!

Draco lifted his snout and sounded a fiery honk for attention. “Let's line up, tie down, and blow that fog face out of the air!” he growled. “It's time he had a lesson in manners!”

The idea appealed. Quickly the monsters organized. The biggest and strongest formed a line at the edge of the plateau, while the smaller ones got back out of the way. Three rocs were at the center of the line. Each monster dug its talons into the ground, grasping sod, roots, and rock so that it would not take off. Then the trumpet swans sounded a cadence, honking in unison. The three rocks began moving their wings, in time with the honks, and the wind gathered. Chex Centaur was able to fly by making her body light, but the rocs and others flew by the sheer power of their wings, so these generated a lot of wind.

That wind increased as they got into it. The effect was like that of a huge fan, that magic instrument that made a breeze when waved, and the anchored monsters were like a whole convention of fans, blowing hot air. That stream of wind reached out and shoved at the oncoming cloud, pushing it back.

King Fracto's foggy face clouded up as he encountered this opposition. He roared thunderously, and lightning jags shot out of his bottom. But he was a demon of the air, and the air was moving the wrong way. He could not advance against the massed draft of the monsters.