The Dastard (8 page)

He must have passed through the leaky spot, and then maybe it had closed up, because the man never returned. The car sat there for some time. Slowly some of the magic of Xanth seeped into the car's parts, and it came alive. It turned on its motor and slogged its way out of the slowsand. This took time, but the car had time, and after a few months it was clear. Then it was able to move at its normal speed, which was actually pretty fast.

It looked for a gas station, because it thought it was low on fuel. It didn't realize that when it came alive it had also acquired a magic talent, which was never to run out of fuel. Since it couldn't find a gas station, it finally gave up and decided to explore this odd land it was in. It met dragons and tangle trees and a girl who glowed in the night. Her name was Pearl, because her glow was thought to be pearly. Some said nacreous, but they were wrong; it was pearly. So the car's adventures were entirely ordinary, and in time it got bored.

One hot AwGhost day the car was chugging up and down hills, and began to overheat. It had learned how to handle this: It needed more water for its radiator. Thirsty, it looked for a river or pool or sea, but there were none. All it found was a pleasant seeming spring. That would have to do.

Just as the car pulled up, a harpy landed. This was a filthy creature whose face and front were those of an ugly woman, and whose body and legs were those of a handsome buzzard. She had spied the car, and naturally wanted to revile it. Harpies needed daily exercise of their cussing abilities, lest they lose their edge. She didn't recognize the species, but that hardly slowed her. “You ### hunk of $$$$!” she screeched, making the air around her blanch. Then she warmed up to some real profanity. The nearby foliage wilted, and a stump of wood began to smolder.

But this didn't bother the car. It was used to this kind of language, since its driver had used many of the same words whenever it had stalled, which it had done often. It just listened, hoping to learn some neat new term.

Finally the harpy's mouth got dry from her hot screeching, and she was forced to take a drink from the spring. The car took advantage of this break in her monologue to drink too. They finished drinking at the same time.

The harpy turned to the car and took a deep breath, the better to resume her barrage. The car turned its headlights on her, realizing that it was safer to meet the onslaught head-on. At least its paint would blister evenly, that way.

What neither realized was that they had blundered into a love spring. They fell immediately and hopelessly in love. Since they were both of age, they proceeded to summon the stork immediately. The car had never done this before, but was familiar with the procedure, because its driver had done this type of thing repeatedly in the back seat. Anyway, ignorance was no excuse, in a love spring.

The signal gave the stork a headache, but it finally delivered a baby boy machine that looked exactly like his father, except smaller: the size of the harpy. He did not resemble the harpy in any other way, except that on a hot day when he got mad and overheated, he would blow off steam by honking his horn. The horn sounded a lot like a harpy's mouth, and when blown really fiercely could make nearby foliage wilt a bit.

The baby came to be called the Autoharp, after his parents' names. As he grew, he turned out to have a special magic talent, in addition to never needing fuel. This talent absolutely disgusted the harpy, and she finally took the Autoharp into the deepest forest and left him there, hopelessly lost. The talent was to play beautiful melodies on strings that ran through his interior.

“And so I am here,” the Autoharp concluded musically. “I never found my way out of the forest, until the Good Magician rescued me. Now I work for him, until I find something better to do with my mechanical life.”

Sim realized that he would not get past the Autoharp as long as the little car worked for the Good Magician. He would have to find a better thing for it to do.

But what could a music-playing machine do in Xanth? Sim pondered, and came up with a really stupid suggestion. But he had to say something. “Why not join the Curse Fiends as a touring musician? They do some musical plays.”

“Great!” the Autoharp played, and zoomed off to find the Curse Fiends.

Amazed, Sim walked on into the rest of the castle.

The triplets sang and played him onto the parapet with them. “You made it!” Melody cried, hugging him.

“We were hoping you would,” Harmony added.

“We made the first Challenge,” Rhythm finished.

“Now we must all go down to talk with Magician Humfrey,” Rose said firmly.

Sim peeped. The princesses' translation spell remained in force, so they understood him. “Yes.”

He peeped again: Had they seen a Mundane dog named Boss?

“Maybe in the Tapestry,” Melody said.

“Big and black,” Harmony added.

“With a sign on his collar,” Rhythm concluded.

“I read the sign,” Sim peeped. “He is looking for a home. But mine is out of his reach.”

That made them all sad. But there was nothing they could do about it.

They trooped down the narrow spiral stairway into the castle. Sim led the way into the Good Magician's tiny study, with the princesses lined up behind him.

Humfrey looked up, just as if there had never been an interruption. “Yes?” he inquired grumpily. It would be an awful day in Xanth if he ever ran out of grumps.

“How can I obtain the broadest feasible education?” Sim peeped. He needed that, in order to become the wisest bird, in the course of a few millennia.

The Good Magician glanced at Wira. “This is private,” he said regretfully. “You understand.”

She nodded. “The Rule of Ten,” she agreed, and shut the door. They heard her departing footfalls.

Now Humfrey focused on the bird. “You need experience with two difficult realms whose parameters do not match common sense,” he said without even turning a page of his tome. “The first is the Idea, best approached through the Worlds of Ida. The second is the female mystique, best approached by associating closely with several mischievous girls in a setting of mutual confusion. You will thus accompany the three princesses as they exchange with their older selves.”

Sim was a very smart bird, but this confused him. “Older selves?”

“You will exchange similarly with your older self,” Humfrey explained. “You and the girls will visit Ptero.”

“Ptero!” Sim peeped. “The first moon of Ida, where time is geography. This should be interesting. But what of our Selves who are there?”

“They will come to Xanth to help save it from the depredations of the Dastard.”

“The Dastard?”

“The girls will explain in due course.”

Sim glanced at the princesses. “Of course,” he peeped uncertainly. He knew them as mainly sources of mischief. Then he looked back at the Good Magician. “What is to be my Service?”

“Your elder Self will perform that, assisting the princesses in saving Xanth.”

A three-way bulb flashed over the princesses' heads. “That's our Service too!” Melody said.

“Done by our older Selves,” Harmony agreed.

“While we're on their world,” Rhythm concluded.

“Yes,” Humfrey said. “Now you must understand one thing. Your exchange must be secret; you must not tell anyone else in Xanth about it. On Ptero it doesn't matter; they will all know.”

“Yes, Good Magician,” Melody said.

“We'll keep our little traps shut,” Harmony agreed. She shut hers, though it was exceedingly cute.

“But how do we exchange?” Rhythm asked.

“Go to Princess Ida, of course.”

“Of course,” Sim agreed.

But Humfrey had already buried his nose in his tome, tuning them out. They had to find their own way from the study. Fortunately they were up to it, being Xanth's smartest bird and three Sorceresses.

Rose served more cookies and drink and exotic bird seed for the four of them. Then Wira guided them out of the castle. “We wish you well,” she said. She was surely curious, but would not inquire about their Answer.

The three princesses hugged her again, and Sim made a friendly peep. Then they walked out across the drawbridge. They sang and played to fashion their magic carpet, and rode it into the air, while Sim spread his wings and flew beside them. They did not discuss their mutual mission, knowing that some of the creatures of the forest had sharp ears.

They reached Castle Roogna and went to Princess Ida's room. “Why how nice to see you,” Aunt Ida said, as if she hadn't seen them a hundred times before. “And Sim too. What can I do for you?”

Melody looked around. “Is this private?” she asked.

“Yes, if you wish it to be.”

“We have to keep it secret,” Harmony explained.

“Something about a Rule of Ten,” Rhythm concluded.

“Of course,” Ida agreed. “No more than ten people can successfully keep a secret. It is a magical theorem.”

“But we have to tell you, we think,” Sim peeped.

Ida smiled. “Then I must be one of the ten. Who else knows?”

Melody counted on her little fingers. “The four of us.”

“And the Good Magician,” Harmony added, using one of her fingers.

“Which makes six,” Rhythm concluded, using hers.

“That seems safe. What is the secret?”

They told her about the exchange, in order to stop the Dastard. Sim was interested, because he had not known about this person.

Ida nodded. “I can effect the exchange, though this has not been done before. As you know, my worlds contain all the folk who ever existed, or who will exist, or who might exist. There are a number of worlds, because there are a great many folk to occupy them. They do contain every person and creature who lives in Xanth, but are missing the year in each person's life that matches the time they spend in Xanth. Different rules of magic apply to each world. You should find this educational.”

“That is the point,” Sim peeped.

“However, there will have to be some people added to the secret. Your parents, for example.”

“Awww,” the three princesses said together.

“Let me explain. Your grown Selves cannot simply take your places here without attracting some attention. They will need help to conceal the exchange. Princess Ivy and Magician Grey Murphy will be able to do that, but only if they know exactly what is occurring.”

The three princesses reluctantly nodded. It did seem difficult to conceal such a change from parents who already seemed to know entirely too much about childish business.

“And the Simurgh,” Ida said.

Sim peeped. “No. She wishes me to broaden this aspect of my education by myself. That's why she gave Roxanne Roc and Che Centaur a holiday. She does not want to know at this time.”

“Excellent,” Ida said. “That makes the number eight. That's comfortable. I will bring the two.” She walked to a magic mirror and spoke to it. “I would like to speak with the princesses' parents at this time.”

The mirror made a pattern of lines and blips, then cleared. Princess Ivy's face appeared in it. “What have those little nuisances done this time?”

Princess Ida kept a straight face. Adults were good at that. “I think it best to keep the matter confidential, sister dear.”

“Remember, they're your nieces. We'll be there in a moment.” The mirror zapped into background noise.

In precisely a moment Mother and Father appeared at the door. They looked grim. The three princesses almost felt guilty, because usually they had done something disastrous if not outright funny when conferences like this were called.

But Ida quickly set them straight. The three little princesses quailed, afraid that Mother would say NO and Father would back her up as he always did, but when they heard about the Dastard they looked thoughtful and withheld judgment.

“This does need to be dealt with,” Grey Murphy said. “That Dastard is dangerous. Their mature magic coupled with Sim's knowledge should be sufficient.”

“They should be safe on Ptero, since death is unknown there, and our analogues will be there to guide them,” Ivy said. “And it will be good experience for them.”

They were working their way around to agreeing! What a miracle.

“However,” Grey Murphy said. That was a chilling signal. “There is a complication.”

The princesses hated complications, because they were usually another way of saying No.

“This is true,” Ivy said. That was just as bad. The three little princesses had become expert at interpreting Adult-speak.

“A complication?” Aunt Ida inquired politely. She was always polite, which meant that most folk underestimated her. The princesses had learned better. There was no magic quite like hers, though they weren't sure of its full nature.

“We shall have to add two more to the secret,” Grey Murphy said.

“Four,” Ivy said.

The princesses counted rapidly on their digits. “But eight plus four is over ten,” Melody protested, running out of fingers.

“In fact it's twelve,” Harmony said, having the wit to go on to her twinkly toes.

“That's too many,” Rhythm concluded.

“Are you sure?” Ida asked the Parents. She was really on the princesses' side, as she usually was, but she never opposed other adults directly. That was perhaps her one weakness.

“We may be able to conceal the presence of adult-aged daughters,” Grey said. “But not the absence of juvenile daughters.”

Ida nodded. Even Sim agreed. “Others would know you were gone in the first hour,” he peeped. “That would ruin the secret.”

“The first ten minutes,” Ivy said grimly.

The princesses exchanged three mortified little glances. That was true. The whole castle would feel the absence of mischief the moment they were gone. They couldn't expect their grown Selves to have the proper sense of mischief, adults were notorious for changing their ways the moment they joined the Adult Conspiracy.

“So we shall need to elicit the support of your little friends Demon Ted and DeMonica,” Ivy said. “They will be able to emulate two of you at a time, and that may suffice. They will surely be glad to do it.”

“But that's only two more,” Melody said.

Grey Murphy shook his head. “Your mother is correct. Their parents will have to know too. At least their demon parents. There will be no keeping the secret from them, once their children are involved. For one thing, they will have to bring the children.”