Swell Foop (5 page)

Sim could only agree. But he wondered how Breanna would react when she discovered that she would have to wield one of the Rings, surely extending her participation and further delaying the wedding. They all might need lightning rods and raincoats.

They walked out the sagging front gate and across the warped drawbridge. Once they were beyond the moat, Breanna put two fingers into her mouth and made a piercing whistle. Soon zombies were shuffling in from all around. It was an impressive if macabre sight. Some zombies were relatively fresh, but others were in abysmal state. Sim knew that it depended not on the length of time they had been subject to this condition, but on their state of decomposition when they had been made zombies. A zombie never really changed form, though constantly sloughing off moldering bits of itself. That was part of their magic: to live their halflives interminably, neither fully alive nor fully dead. Sim could not think of a worse situation for a person to find himself in. Surely full death would be better.

"I dread this," Cynthia murmured, mostly to herself.

Breanna heard her. "Why, wing-mare? Because you have to work with zombies?"

"Well—"

"Zombies are people too, you know. They serve Xanth loyally, and don't deserve to be stigmatized."

"Oh, I wouldn't think of—" Cynthia started somewhat lamely.

"And they aren't all rotten. Some are very fresh, so you wouldn't even know they're zombies if you weren't told. If you took the trouble to get to know them—"

"Cynthia apologizes for any inadvertent slur," Che said. "Her mind is distracted by the magnitude of the task ahead."

"I will try to get to know a zombie well," Cynthia said apologetically.

"Okay." Breanna let it go, this time. Sim made a mental note never to imply anything negative about a zombie, at least while in Breanna's vicinity.

Sim took a brief walk while waiting for the zombies to assemble. He didn't fly, because that would suggest that he was trying to get away from the company of zombies, and after the way Breanna lit into Cynthia about that, he knew better. So he walked and hopped along, exploring the region, for he was interested in everything and more.

He spied two human girls looking at a brownish pool. "Hello," he squawked.

They jumped. "Don't gobble us up!" one cried. "We don't mean any harm."

He realized that they had not understood him. That was what came of walking alone, instead of having Che near to translate for strangers. He stopped moving, doing his best to look innocuous.

"Oh, you're just a bird," one girl said, reassured. "A big chick." Sim nodded.

"A beautiful one," the other agreed. Sim tried to blush, but couldn't manage this human expression. His feathers got in the way.

"We'll introduce ourselves," the first girl said. "We're twins, twelve years old. I'm Mol, and this is Ly."

"I'm Sim," Sim squawked.

"We do springs," Mol said.

"But it's random," Ly added.

"Squawk?"

They laughed. "That confuses everyone, even us," Mol said. "It's like this: I can make springs, but there's no telling what kind they will be. I mean, they can be water, or green jelly, or castor oil." She made a face. No one liked the oil from the wheels on chairs.

"And I change those springs," Ly said. "But I'm random too. So I might change her jelly to happiness elixir, or purple grunge. I wish we could control it, but we can't."

"I just made this one," Mol said, looking at the pool.

"But we don't know what it is," Ly said. "We don't want to just leave it here if it's bad. But how do we tell?"

"You see, we can make springs, but we can't unmake them," Mol said.

"We have to leave them where they are," Ly said. "If they aren't too bad. We left one in the Ever-glades that's a mere."

"A what?" Sim squawked.

"It makes you feel insignificant," Mol explained.

"We didn't like leaving it," Ly said, "but at least it's out of the way."

Obviously they needed help. Sim poked his beak cautiously into the pool. And got kicked in the tail.

Startled, he looked at the girls, but they were not close enough to kick him. No one was. So he tested the pool again, this time watching his tail, and got kicked again—by nothing.

A bulb flashed. "Boot rear!" he squawked. It was a popular drink, though somewhat wild.

"Oh, thank you," Mol said. Evidently they were coming to understand him.

"I'll change it," Ly said. She focused, and the pool changed from brownish to greenish.

Sim dipped his beak again. This time nothing booted his tail. "Lima soda," he squawked.

The girls exchanged twin glances. "Let's leave it at that," Mol said.

"Yes, it won't hurt anyone," Ly agreed.

"We have to go now," Mol said.

"Thank you so much," Ly said.

Sim nodded and gave them a parting squawk. Then he returned to the zombie gathering.

At last the assembly was complete. There was an astonishing number of zombies of every type—human, animal, and crossbreed. Several were birds. Some did indeed look fully alive, with no rot showing.

"Now pay attention, friends," Breanna said loudly, showing no aversion to either the sight or the stench of the throng. "We need your help."

The zombies focused on her as well as they could. Some had rotten eyes, and most had rotten brains, so their attention was not universally great, but they tried. It was clear that they had come to know her and like her to the extent they were able. Sim wasn't sure exactly why she had decided on this odd profession, but she seemed to be good at it. When all were listening, Breanna nodded to Justin.

"We have a need to locate the Swell Foop," Justin said. "Its nature need not concern you. In order to locate it, we must have the Six Rings of Xanth. We understand that only you know where the Rings are."

The zombies looked around in confusion. They did not seem to know anything about this.

"Maybe Xeth knows," Breanna said. "Where is he?" Then she answered her own question. "Of course—he's in his palace. We'll go there."

Xeth was the king of the Zombies, Sim knew. Justin Tree and Breanna of the Black Wave were to take over Castle Zombie, to serve as the liaison between the zombies and the living folk, but they did not govern the zombies. Xeth and his wife Zyzzvya did. Their palace was a bit apart from the common run of zombies, so they had not heard the whistle.

The five of them trooped through the forest until they came to a well-kept structure shaped like a military barracks. The trees and shrubs in its vicinity were lined up in a square formation, the largest at one corner, the smallest at the opposite corner, and the ones between changing size evenly. Everything was in perfect military order.

Breanna approached the door and touched the brightly polished brass doorknob. "King Xeth," she called. "Queen Zyzzvya—may we speak with you?"

The door opened and an attractive human woman stood there. No, Sim realized after an instant as his sharp bird's eyes caught the detail. She was a zombie, a very fresh one, with no rot showing. She must have been zombied within hours after death. She was proof of Breanna's statement about the variability of the type. She wore a sword, and was evidently an amazon woman. "Why, hello, Breanna. What is your concern?"

"We need to find the Six Rings of Xanth, and only the zombies know where they are, but the folk around the castle don't seem to know. I thought you and Xeth might be able to help us."

"I can help you with one, if you truly have a need-to-know," Zyzzvya said.

A very-well-preserved male zombie wearing a crown appeared behind her. This was King Xeth. "And I can help you with another," he said. He glanced at his wife in surprise. "But I did not know you had a Ring."

"I did not know you did, dear," she replied.

"I have always known; my mother taught me when I was young. But you have not been a zombie very long."

"Just long enough to meet you, dear." She turned back to Breanna and the others. "But this is not good protocol; we must properly entertain our visitors."

"My wife has military discipline," Xeth told the group. "She was a warrior in life. She has some excellent zombied pickles, and sourbread with sour cream spread." He spoke with a barely noticeable lisp; his tongue evidently had a trace of rot.

"We have no need of entertainment," Sim squawked quickly. He regarded himself as reasonably tolerant, but somehow zombie food did not appeal. "We wish to locate the Rings as soon as possible." Then Breanna speared him with a dark glance. He had just violated his resolution! "But perhaps a beakful to eat would be good."

Zyzzyva brought out a plate of appetizers, and they all tried them. They turned out to be quite good.

"The location of each Ring is known to but a single zombie," Xeth said. "No one knows who that is. But I can find the zombies in a few hours. I will send out messengers to question every zombie, and to summon the Ringers here."

"A few hours!" Breanna exclaimed, evidently appalled by the delay. But in half a moment she caught herself. "Of course, and thank you, King Xeth. Meanwhile, will you and Zyzzvya be able to help us with the first two?"

"As soon as we complete the directives to the messengers," the king agreed. "We should be able to start tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" But again she stifled herself; she had had enough experience with zombies to know they couldn't be rushed. "Of course. Thank you so much."

Xeth nodded graciously. "I will commence the summoning now."

The living group walked back to Castle Zombie. "Maybe we can get it done in the morning, and have the wedding in the afternoon," Breanna said. "You must all come, of course. Meanwhile, you must stay the night with us; Castle Zombie has excellent facilities, believe it or not."

"We are sure of it," Che agreed politely. And of course they were; Sim knew that Millie the Ghost took perfect care of the castle, and the human section was completely human. The zombies hardly needed shelter, and were satisfied to snooze in shallow graves when not active.

Still, Sim might have preferred some other practice mission, if he thought about it. He made sure not to think about it while in the black girl's presence, however.

King Xeth was as good as his kingly word: In the morning the four other zombies were there, ready to guide their charges to the general vicinity of the Rings. Breanna saw the others pairing off with their zombies; they would split up to search out all the Rings simultaneously, saving time, so as to get this chore done in a couple of hours. That would leave the afternoon free for the wedding.

She also saw Roxanne Roc, still waiting patiently for Sim to finish his business here. She walked over to the huge bird. "We each have to go with a Zombie to find a Ring of Xanth," she said. "Sim too. I don't think you should try to help him in this; it's his training mission. Why don't you check with him, and then take a few hours off? I'm sure you deserve a rest."

Roxanne nodded. She sent a glance into the throng, neatly catching Sim's eye. Then she nodded again, turned gracefully around, spread her wings, and took off. She was a good governess, knowing when to let the line slacken.

"Let's do it," Breanna said to Xeth, satisfied.

The king nodded and set off down a path. Breanna paced him. "It's funny how things have changed in three years," she said. "The first time we met, I fled you; now I like you just fine."

"Yes," he agreed. Zombies were not much for conversation, even well-preserved ones like him. His brain was perfectly good, and he could speak with only the slightest slurring, but he had never developed the habit of dialogue.

"You found me lying in the Pavilion of Love, and kissed me awake, and wanted to marry me. But I didn't want anything to do with a zombie. Isn't that hilarious, considering that I'm about to become the Zombie Mistress?"

"Yes." He could also speak at some length, when it was expedient, with good organization of thoughts, but seldom found it necessary.

"And it was all my mistake," she continued. "I thought it was just a vacant bed for anyone to use. You were perfectly within your rights to assume that I was looking for a prince or king to marry. You couldn't understand why I didn't follow through."

"Yes."

"Fully living folk can be prejudiced in various ways, and I was prejudiced against zombies. Until I heard myself talking about them exactly the way I'd heard others in Mundania talk about blacks." She looked down at her brown arm. "That they're all right in their place, but I wouldn't want to marry one."

"Yes."

"Of course I still wouldn't marry a zombie, or any other kind of creature. Justin Tree is the only one I want to marry, and I made him change to young human man form for that. But meanwhile you did marry Zyzzyva, so you are happy."

"Yes."

"Any luck summoning the stork?" This query might be considered out of order among fully living folk, but zombies didn't mind direct questions; in fact, they preferred them, as being less confusing.

"Storks are slow to answer zombies."

"Well, keep trying, and you'll get there. I understand that the Demoness Metria summoned the stork more than seven hundred and fifty times before getting its attention."

"Yes."

A swirl of smoke formed. "Did I hear my cognomen?"

"Your what?"

"Appellation, designation, patronymic, personage, identification—"

"Name?"

"Whatever," the cloud agreed crossly.

"It was just an incidental reference. We were talking about storks."

"Bothersome birds." The cloud formed the semblance of a stork as it faded.

Breanna was relieved. The demoness was usually more mischief than she was worth.

They passed a boy looking at a stone. "Oh, are you a rock collector?" Breanna asked.

"No, I'm using my talent," the boy said. "I can see the future of any object. The trouble is, most objects never have more future than they have past. So I keep checking, hoping to find a really interesting one." He dropped the stone.

"That may be the case with things out in the wilderness," Breanna said. "But maybe the objects in castles would be more interesting, because so much more happens there."

"Gee, yes," the boy agreed. "I'll go find a castle. Maybe I'll find an object that will be used to kill somebody. Thanks."

"Welcome," Breanna said with a quirk of a smile as he departed. The boy had a good talent, when he learned to use it well.

They came upon an older woman of about Breanna's height but heavier, who looked confused. Breanna was impatient to get her business done, but didn't like to pass someone by who might need help. "Hello. Are you all right?"

"I don't know. I thought I was ill, then suddenly I was standing in this forest. I walked, but have not found my way out of it. In fact, I tried to follow this dog, but he seems to be lost too."

Now Breanna saw the dog. He was of a rusty color. "True, Rusty?" she inquired.

He wagged his tail.

Breanna got a glimmer. This was not far from the realm of madness, where some who had died appeared. "Are you from Mundania?"

"Mundania?"

"The real world. Sometimes people come here from there. Animals too."

"Yes. I am Vanna Jane Morrow Shelton. I live at—"

"I am sorry to tell you that you can't go back, Vanna. This is—this is a weird place. But you can find new friends here. If you will just follow this path behind us, you will come to Castle Zombie. It looks awful, but it's not. Ask to talk to Millie the Ghost."

"A ghost!"

"It's just a name. She's a nice person. She will help you to get comfortably settled. I know you will like it here."

"I don't want to impose—"

"Don't worry about it. I'd show you the way myself, but I'm on an urgent mission."

"Of course." The woman set off down the trail, looking more confident now that she had somewhere to go.

The dog hesitated. "You too, Rusty," Breanna said.

The dog ran after the woman.

But that reminded Breanna of their own objective. "Say, just where are we headed?"

"To the Demon Realm."

"The Demon Realm! Do you even know how to get there?"

"No."

"Then where are we walking to?"

"If we just keep trying, we'll get there."

Breanna was accustomed to zombies' ways, but still got caught on occasion. "I prefer to find a shortcut," she said. "Do you know one?"

"No."

"But the Ring is in the Demon Realm?" It was best to be quite sure.

"Yes."

"Which Ring is it?"

"The Ring of Fire."

"And what does it control?"

"All demonic creatures, including Com Pewter's kind."

"Oh, I thought it might relate to the Region of Fire."

"That too," he agreed.

"But it's not necessarily
in
the Region of Fire. Just somewhere among the demons."

"Yes."

"So maybe we should get demon help to locate it."

"Yes."

"Do you have a particular demon in mind?"

"Demon Professor Grossclout."

She nodded. "I know of him. He is said to terrorize demon students. So he's in charge of the Ring?"

"Yes."

"Okay, let's see if we can find Grossclout quickly. For that we'll need the help of a lesser demon." She pondered half a moment. "The only one I really know is the Demoness Metria, because she's always messing into human business. Usually we just want her to go away."

"Yes."

"But this time I guess we need her. So I'll see if I can summon her. This time on purpose." She stopped walking, looked around, then called out, "Demoness Metria! Are you there?"

There was a faint swirl in the air before her. "Maybe," it said.

"We need your help."

"Too bad," the swirl said. "Maybe you should just go ask a stork."

Maybe the demoness had a grudge about being dismissed before. "Usually we just want to be rid of you. Aren't you pleased that we want your presence for a change?"

"No, that's boring."

"But we need you!" Breanna said, frustrated.

"Maybe if you beg hard enough."

So that was it. The demoness liked to annoy, and so she did the opposite of what was wanted. "Then I guess we'll just have to ask some other demon to help us. Maybe—" Breanna cast about for a name, but couldn't think of any, because she didn't know many demons.

"Demon Molish," Xeth said.

"D. Molish?" the swirl demanded, outraged. "He's no good at anything express."

"At anything what?" Breanna asked.

"Incontestable, absolute, certain, categorical, explicit—"

"Positive?"

"Whatever," the swirl said crossly. "All he does is destroy. You don't want him."

"Demon Lete," Xeth suggested.

"D. Lete? He's a total subtraction!"

"A total what?" Breanna asked, beginning to appreciate what the zombie king was doing.

"Remove, obliterate, eradicate, damage, ruin—"

"Loss?"

"Whatever! All he does is take things away. You don't want him."

"Demon Flower," Xeth said.

"D. Flower? He's a rogue! All he does is—"

"Never mind," Breanna said. "I'm sure one of them will do. They all surely know the way."

The swirl became a shimmering female shape. "Know the way where?"

"To the Demon Grossclout. But that's none of your business."

"The hades it isn't!"

"The what?" Xeth asked.

"Never mind!" Breanna repeated. "We don't want the likes of her annoying the good professor."

"It's my
right
to annoy Grossclout!" Metria flared, light flashing from her solidifying body. "I've been doing it for centuries."

"Then you must have lost your touch by now. He's seen it all."

"He
hasn't
seen it all!" The dress on the female form shrank dangerously. "I held some in reserve."

"Will you please go away?" Breanna demanded. "We are looking for someone else to lead us to Professor Grossclout, and we can't do it as long as you're in the way."

"Then you're stuck, because I insist on doing it. So there."

"But someone else could do it faster and better!"

"The purgatory they can!"

"The what?" Xeth asked.

"Never mind! I'm sure another demon could have us standing there before Professor Grossclout before I could count to ten. One, two three, four—"

There was a sudden wrenching, and smoke surrounded them. Breanna did not let it distract her from counting. "Five, six, seven—"

The smoke cleared. "And what is the meaning of this intrusion?" a commanding voice demanded.

Breanna stared. They were standing in a classroom before the Demon Professor himself. The young demons seated behind them tittered. Metria was nowhere to be seen.

"Uh, we needed to find the Ring of Power, and—"

"The
what
?"

"It's a—a—" Breanna stammered, daunted by the sheer overwhelming presence of Grossclout.

"I know what it is. Is your head filled with mush? What business do you have with it?"

"We—we have to—"

"In my office."

The room changed about them, and they were standing in his office, before his massive ironwood desk. Grossclout sat behind it, his visage menacing.

"To find it, to fetch the dandy poop—"

"The Swell Foop! Who put you up to this inanity?"

"Well, the Simurgh, actually, because—"

"Out with it! What's the phenomenal emergency to justify such a pursuit?"

"The Demon Earth is missing, and we have to save him, because—"

"Because we need the gravity. Of course. But this is not a thing for mortals to tackle. How did you get involved?"

"Because only another Demon could have abducted a Demon, and that means—"

"Another Demon is suspect. Now it registers. So mortals have to do it, and the only way they can accomplish anything at all is to use the Swell Foop."

"Yes," Breanna agreed. "So first we have to get all the Rings of Xanth, because—"

"Because they are the only way to locate the lost Foop, let alone control it," Grossclout said impatiently. "Let us cease belaboring the obvious. Why are you disrupting my class?"

This time Xeth answered. "Because the Ring of Fire is in your domain. You are the only one who knows where it is."

"I have no idea where it is."

"What?" Breanna asked, almost dumbfounded.

"No one knows precisely where any Ring of Xanth is."

"But then how can we—?"

"You will have to look for it. I will give you passes to search the premises so that the juvenile demons will neither hinder nor molest you. But only you can locate it."

"But I just came with King Xeth because—"

"You have been designated by blind fate. Concentrate your mind and you will get a notion of its direction."

Breanna had her doubt, but it was hard to deny Grossclout's overwhelming force of personality, so she tried. To her surprise, she did get a sense of a circular presence, as if there were a dim beacon whose light shone through walls and vegetation. "That way, maybe," she said, pointing toward a wall.

"I shall not have my study disturbed or my classes disrupted," Grossclout intoned dangerously. "You must use existing channels, rather than breaking through walls."

"Oh, sure," she agreed, realizing that he had a point. "I'll go around."

"Do so."