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Authors: Piers Anthony

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BOOK: Well-Tempered Clavicle
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Then she strode rapidly to the north and west, heading for Rap Port. She could move at ten times the speed of ordinary folk, but it was a fair distance, including navigating the Gap Chasm, and they would have to camp for the night before getting there.

“Oh, bleep!” Dawn swore. Picka had not realized how much she swore, before getting to know her better.

“What’s the matter?” Joy’nt asked.

“I’ve got a Worry Wart,” Dawn said, showing her left hand. Sure enough, there was a freshly grown wart on her little finger. “No wonder I’ve been edgy about things.”

A Worry Wart. Picka knew of them. They infected living creatures, and made them worry unnecessarily, or exaggerated legitimate worries. Sometimes they formed because of worry. “You must be nervous about having to marry the monster,” Picka said. “That gave you the wart.”

Dawn nodded. “Could be. But now I’m worrying worse. Besides, it looks awful. I need to be rid of it.”

“Touch it,” Joy’nt suggested. “Fathom its nature, including what will abolish it.”

“Good idea!” Dawn put her right forefinger on the wart. “It can be abolished by pressing something loathsome against it. Like rotten bean curd or a puke snail. Too bad we don’t have any.”

“Like the flesh of the monster?” Skully asked.

“Yes, actually. But I don’t dare get near the monster.”

“So we’ll keep alert for something else loathsome,” Picka said.

They found a nice section of beach near the Gulf that marked the southern edge of Xanth in this region. Xanth was a peninsula, and indeed there was a coastal town they passed called Peninsula, but this was actually a projection to the west that once connected deviously to Mundania.

“There should be something interesting here,” Granola said as she set them down. “I’m not sure what. I don’t think it’s the castle.”

“We don’t need to look for the castle again until we know we can win it,” Dawn said.

“But if you marry Picka—”

“I’m not a good enough musician,” Picka said. “The monster is plainly better, apart from his kill-music. So the castle wouldn’t choose me.”

“Would it choose Piper, if he married Dawn?”

“I detest saying it,” Dawn said, “but I think it would. I am determined to see that doesn’t happen, but if the monster should catch me unprotected, I’d be lost. When he played that summoning music, I was unable to resist. I felt awful, but I was powerless. Picka has to protect me from that fate.”

“And I’m not strong enough,” Picka said disconsolately. “The monster can be stopped only by music, by a better player than he is, and I’m not.”

“Yet,” Dawn said.

Picka did not want to say that he doubted he would ever be good enough. “I’ll try to improve.”

“But enough of this pointless worrying,” Dawn said, glaring at her little finger. “We have to forage for this and that.”

Dawn and the pets explored the beach, looking for pie plants and puke snails. Picka, Joy’nt, and Skully followed an enchanted path inland, looking for materials to make a shelter for the smaller living folk. Granola sat by herself, resting, for she had walked a long way that day.

The skeletons rounded a turn and almost collided with a human woman. “Eeeeeeek!” she screeched, putting more E’s into it than seemed humanly possible.

A young man in diving gear came charging in from the ocean surf. “What is it?” he called. Then he saw the skeletons. “Uh-oh.”

“We’re not enemies!” Joy’nt said hastily. “We’re just passing through, on our own business.”

“It talks!” the woman said, her amazement stifling her screams for the moment.

“Of course we talk,” Picka said. “We’re citizens of Xanth.”

“Of what?” the man asked.

Dawn arrived. “A human being!” the woman said, visibly relieved.

Dawn knew the situation the moment she got in range. “You’re new to Xanth,” she said. “Both of you.”

“I was diving,” the man said. “Then there was an accident. I’m not sure what happened after that. I heard the scream, and came to help if I could. Then I saw these … these…”

“Introductions are in order,” Dawn said. “I am Dawn.” She gestured to the woman. “This is Tracy Berry McLian, age forty-five, from Mundania.”

“You didn’t have to mention my age,” the woman murmured.

Dawn turned to the man. “This is Anthony Liaw, age twenty-eight, also known as Pirate. He’s not really a pirate, it’s a nickname. He loves the water.”

“Oh, yes!” Pirate agreed fervently. “I’m a marine biologist.”

“The two of you do not know each other, but you have this in common: you have come rather suddenly to Xanth, a land that is literally magical. You will both have considerable adapting to do. I suggest that you get to know each other, because you both remember Mundania, a land that is considered a fable here in Xanth. In time you will get comfortable here, and be able to make your own lives.”

Dawn indicated the three skeletons. “These are my friends Picka Bone, his sister Joy’nt Bone, and Skully Knucklehead. We are traveling to Rap Port to study music.” Dawn took a breath, and Picka noticed that Pirate noticed. Dawn had that effect on living men. “You may have noticed that my friends are walking skeletons. Xanth is a magic land, and such things exist, though they are less common in Mundania. You will encounter other strange things.”

“Please,” Tracy said somewhat plaintively. “I would prefer simply to go home now.”

Dawn shook her head. “I am sorry to tell you that you can’t go home. I must also tell you that you should not wander alone in the wilderness here; while the skeletons won’t hurt you, there are other creatures who will. Stay on the enchanted paths, like this one; you are safe on them, and there are rest stops with facilities and food. The people you encounter on them will be friendly.”

“Why can’t we go home?” Pirate asked.

Dawn’s mouth was grim. “Because in Mundania you are dead.”

“Oh!” Tracy exclaimed.

“That accident,” Pirate said. “It was worse than I thought?”

“Worse,” Dawn agreed.

He sighed. “Well, at least there’s a fine sea here. I did think some of the fish were odd.”

“Quite odd,” Dawn agreed.

“Actually, I know of Xanth. I just didn’t expect to find myself in it.”

Tracy also sighed. “The same here. I just wasn’t assimilating it before.” She looked intently at Dawn. “I believe I recognize you now. You are Princess Dawn.”

“I am,” Dawn agreed guardedly.

“How is your sister Eve?”

“She’s married.”

Tracy looked at Pirate. “I suppose if that’s the way it is, we had better make the best of it.”

“I agree,” he said. He looked around. “I had better find some better clothing. There should be some growing on bushes somewhere.”

“Yes,” Tracy agreed. “I think I could become accustomed to this land. May I travel with you, Pirate, at least for a while, until we acclimatize?”

“By all means. At least the two of us will know we’re not crazy, regardless what the natives may think.”

“Regardless,” Tracy agreed. They walked back along the path together.

“We must be on our way,” Dawn said. “We don’t want to spook anyone else.”

“Thank you for unspooking the new residents,” Joy’nt said. “They may have read about Xanth, but I suppose it’s different actually being here.”

But hardly had they started back toward the beach when there was another scream. “Oh, bleep!” Dawn swore. “More mischief. We’d better check.”

They ran along the path. The two Mundanes had stopped. Pirate was absolutely still, while Tracy was just concluding her scream.

Then they saw why. “Metria!” Dawn exclaimed. “As if we didn’t have trouble enough already.”

The Demoness was standing in the path, blocking the way, in all her lushly flesh. She wore only the scantiest of skimpy bras, and burstingly tight translucent panties. Pirate had freaked out, and Tracy had screamed because that was what women did when they encountered blatant sexuality.

“What are you doing here?” Metria demanded, twitching her torso in a manner that made even Picka and Skully stare.

“We’re camping,” Dawn said. “And these are two Mundanes trying to proceed safely to a shelter. Why are you harassing them?”

“I’m not harassing them. I just wanted to make a card with them.”

“A what?” Tracy asked.

“Deck, play, sell, trade, share, transact—”

“Deal?”

“Whatever,” Metria agreed irritably.

“Well, you won’t make progress as long as you’re freaking them both out,” Dawn said just as irritably. “Put something on.”

“Spoilsport,” Metria muttered. Clothing formed around her, almost covering her assets.

Dawn snapped her fingers, and Pirate came out of his freak. Tracy came out of her different freak.

“What deal?” Dawn asked suspiciously.

“Well, I found this man who copies talents, only they aren’t as strong as the originals, and he can only get rid of one by giving it to someone else. I like him, but I can’t get close to him with that talent.”

Picka knew that when the demoness liked a man, she could be extremely naughty.

“What talent?” Dawn asked.

“Summoning stink horns.”

Dawn and the skeletons had to laugh, partly with relief. “Why did he absorb that talent?” Picka asked.

“He was just experimenting, teasing me. But now he can’t get rid of it, because no one else wants to take it. So I’m trying to find someone to take it.”

Pirate, no longer freaked, was interested. “I don’t have a magic talent. I’d like to have one. Even that. I presume a person doesn’t
have
to bring a stink horn when he doesn’t want it.”

“But it can be hard to get rid of a stink horn,” Dawn said. “And it can detonate at any time.”

Pirate shrugged. “Still, it’s magic. I think it could be great to discourage an attack by a dragon or savage person.”

“You want that talent?” Metria asked.

“Sure.”

The demoness lifted one hand and snapped her fingers. Sparks flew out, making a burning sound. One spark set fire to what turned out to be an invisible curtain. It flared up and dissipated in smoke. Behind it was a man, looking a bit surprised to find himself here.

“Dan, I found a taker,” Metria said. “For the endowment.”

“For the what?”

“Ability, strength, aptitude, capacity, power, gift—”

“Talent?”

“Whatever, you idiot! This man will take the stink horn summons.”

“Oh.” Dan smiled. “Welcome to it. Come here.”

Pirate stepped up. Dan took his hand and shook it. “Now it’s yours.”

“Let’s get out of here before he changes his mind,” Metria said. She opened her arms, embraced Dan, and puffed into smoke, which slowly floated away. Both of them were gone. Picka suspected that the Demoness would not let go of the man until she had seriously smooched him.

“Were they fooling me?” Pirate asked.

“Don’t invoke it!” Dawn warned.

But as usual in such cases, she was too late. A small hornlike object appeared in his hand.

“A stink horn!” Picka exclaimed. “Touch it to your wart!”

“That is loathsome enough,” Dawn agreed, surprised. “May I have the horn, please?”

“Sure.” He handed it to her.

“Thank you.” Dawn carefully pressed the horn to the wart. The wart sizzled with indignation, then puffed into foul-smelling mist. It was gone. “It worked!”

But the pressure on the horn had ruptured it. Now the stink spread out in a stomach-churning cloud, enfolding Dawn.

“Get away from here, before you get stunk too!” she cried.

Pirate and Tracy hastily retreated and were soon gone. But the skeletons were too close, and all three got stunk.

“We’ll have to wash off,” Joy’nt said distastefully.

The hurried to the beach. There were the three pets. Woofer took one sniff and backed away howling. Midrange climbed a tree. Tweeter flew high into the sky. There was an audible sniff from the invisible giantess as she too retreated. None of them could stand the stench.

They dived into the water and busily scrubbed one another off. Dawn had to remove and throw away all her clothing. The skeletons scooped up handfuls of sand to scour their bones. There had been small fish in the water; they fled so rapidly they left wakes. The water itself took on a dirty brown hue, and reeked. It looked disgusted.

“That talent will certainly be effective as a defense against predators,” Skully remarked.

“Indubitably,” Dawn agreed, striding naked from the water in search of new clothing.

“I wonder whether it would be possible to make stink horn pie?” Joy’nt mused. Now that the odor had mostly faded, they were able to joke about it, though even the humor seemed dirty.

In time they were able to settle down on a new, unsullied section of the beach, having found food, poles, and blankets for shelter. It had been more than enough of an incidental adventure.

“But at least I’m no longer worrying,” Dawn said, unworried. She eyed Picka in that disconcertingly direct way that living eyeballs had. “Time for your music practice.”

They had their session, with Dawn paying special attention to Picka’s contribution. “Get it sharp,” she said. “Loud. Fast. Coordinated. And practice on those summoning and pacifying themes. You really need those.”

“But I would have to use them on you,” Picka protested.

“Do it. The monster will.”

So after the others were done, Dawn took her stance some distance down the beach, and he played the summons. She resisted. He adjusted in that way he became aware of, and she started walking toward him. He intensified it, and she ran toward him.

“You’ve got it!” she said breathlessly. “But now try to pacify me.”

Picka played the pacification theme. Again Dawn resisted. Again he adapted, and she wilted. In fact she fainted. Oops.

There was a huge thud. It was the giantess. She too had fallen on the beach.

“Next time see if you can focus on one person at a time,” Joy’nt suggested as they did their best to revive Dawn and Granola.

“And step up the power in easy stages,” Skully said.

“Why didn’t Granola come toward me, if she was being affected too?” Picka asked.

“Maybe she was,” Joy’nt said. “But she was sitting, so all she did was lean forward.”

BOOK: Well-Tempered Clavicle
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