Piers Anthony - Castle Roogna

"I didn't-" Dor protested.

"I know. I snooped. Some. You didn't say anything, and neither did the golem. So it seemed you really were interested in me, and-" She smiled, and she looked brilliantly sweet when she did that. "And it was the greatest experience of my whole life! You're a real Magician, and-"

"No, that has nothing to do with-"

"So I practiced kissing, just in case. Then you came in just now apologizing, as if it were something dirty. So I thought you hadn't meant it, had just been slumming, and-"

"No!" Dor cried in sudden anguish. "That wasn't it at all!"

"I know that now. Can't blame me for wondering, though." She smiled again. "Listen, Dor, I know tomorrow it'll be just like before, and I'll be a snotty palace brat to you, but-would you kiss me again?"

Dor felt deeply complimented. "Gladly, Irene." He bent to kiss her again. He was young yet, and so was she, but it was a foretaste of what they might experience when they both grew up.

"Maybe again, sometime?" she inquired wistfully. "I sort of like being a girl, now."

"Sometime," he agreed. "But we've got to fight some, too, or the others will tease us. We're still too young-" But not very much too young, he thought. He could see the road ahead rather clearly now, after his tapestry experience.

"I know." They broke, and there seemed to be nothing more to say, so Dor went to the door and opened it. He paused to look back at her, remembering what she had said about her parents being disappointed in her. She-was sitting on her bed, bathed in a forlorn joy-

"Not the King!" he repeated quietly. "I believe that."

Irene smiled. "No, not the King."

"And not me."

"Same thing," she said.

He stepped out and closed the door, knowing he wasn't through with her. Not today or tomorrow, or for some time to come. Not through at all.

Grundy was waiting for him. "Any black eyes? Broken teeth? Throttle marks? It was awful quiet in there."

"She's a nice girl," Dor said, walking toward the library. "Funny I never noticed that before."

"Brother!" the golem expostulated. "First he notices Millie the ghost, then Irene the brat. What's he coming to?"

Maturity, Dor thought. He was growing up, and new horizons were opening, and he was glad.

They arrived at the library. "Come in," King Trent called before Dor could knock.

Dor entered and took the seat indicated. "Remember how you sent me on a quest, Your Majesty? I have returned."

The King held up one hand, palm out. Dor thought of Jumper's mode of greeting. "Let me not deceive you, Dor. Humfrey advised me, and I could not resist watching the tapestry. I have a fair notion what you have been doing."

"You mean the tapestry showed me-what I was doing while I was doing it?"

"Certainly, once I knew which character to watch. You and that spider-you're lucky you didn't kill yourself in the Gap! But there was no way for me to revoke the spell before its natural span expired. I sweated to think of what I would have to say to your father, if-"

Dor laughed convulsively. "And I was worried about Irene's father!"

King Trent smiled. "Dor, I really don't like to snoop around the palace, but the Queen does. She quickly noticed the change in you, saw that you never used your talent, and found out about the Brain Coral. Her picture hangs in Irene's room; the Queen merely substituted her own illusion image for the picture and had what they call in Mundania a ringside seat. She watched everything yesterday-and today. And advised me, just now."

Dor shrugged. "I stand by what I did. Both days."

"I know you do, Dor. You're coming onto manhood nicely. Do not assume the Queen is your enemy. She wants her daughter to follow her, and knows what is required though she may resent it strongly. I am aware how ticklish the situation in the bedroom was. You handled it with the finesse I would expect in a leader."

That wasn't finesse! I meant every word!"

"Finesse and meaning are not mutually incompatible."

"Irene's not bad at all, once you get to know her! She-" Dor stopped, embarrassed. "What am I doing, telling you this? You're her father!"

The King clapped a friendly hand on Dor's shoulder. "You have pleased me, Magician. Now through your adventure, I know the secret of the flute and the hoop in the Royal arsenal; they could be extremely useful on occasion. I shall not keep you from the completion of your quest. You must wrap it up, for there will be assignments for you in today's world, as you learn to govern Xanth." He walked to a low bookshelf and brought out a rolled rug. "We saved this for your convenience." It was the magic carpet

"Uh, a, thanks, Your Majesty. I do have some traveling to do."

Dor mounted the rug. "Brain Coral," he told it, and it took off.

As the carpet ascended the sky and the landscape of modern Xanth opened out like a tapestry, Dor felt abrupt nostalgia for the tapestry world he had left. It was not that that world was superior to his own; its magic was generally cruder, its politics more violent. It was his experience of manhood and friendship, especially with Jumper. He knew he would never be able to recover the personal magic of that experience. Yet, as his session with Irene had shown, there was unexpected magic in this world too. All he had to do was appreciate it.

Down into the underworld, through the cavern passages. Goblins still reigned here, he knew, though they had almost disappeared on the surface of Xanth. What had happened to them? They had not all been slaughtered at the battle of Castle Roogna, and the forget spell would not have wiped them out Had there been some later goblin calamity?

Then he was at the subterranean lake. Modern transport was certainly an improvement over ancient; this had hardly taken any time at all.

No Goblin calamity, the Brain Coral thought to him. The harpy curse on the goblin populace was nullified on the surface, but lingered in the depths. Therefore the goblins above became, generation by generation, more intelligent, handsome, and noble, until they were no longer recognizable as monsters. The only true goblins today are those of the caverns.

"Then I wiped out their species!" Dor exclaimed. "In a way I never anticipated!"

Their species, as you knew it, was a horrendous distortion, a burden to themselves as much as to others. They cared so little for themselves they were glad to die in goblin-sea tactics when storming a castle. You did well in releasing them from their curse, and in restoring the male of the species to the harpies.

"About that," Dor said. "You gave up Prince Harold Harpy as a favor to me, and now I have come to return the favor, as I said I would."

No need, Magician. When you came two weeks ago, I did not make the connection. After all, you wore a different body when I first met you, eight centuries ago. But in the past two weeks I worked it out. You returned that favor eight hundred years ago.

"No, I came back here to my own time. So-"

You brought victory to King Roogna. Therefore his rival Magician Murphy retired from politics, preferring to wait until some better situation arose. He came to me.

"Murphy was exiled?" Dor asked, startled.

It was voluntary. King Roogna would have liked to have his company, but Murphy was restless. He is in my storage now. Perhaps one century I will release him, when Xanth has need of his talent. Now, in exchange for the harpy Prince, I have Murphy and Vadne, who may one day make a fine pair. You owe me nothing.

"I, uh, guess so, if you see it that way," Dor said.

"Still-"

"If ever you choose to travel from your body again, keep me in mind, the Coral thought. I learned a great deal about life, though I do not yet properly comprehend the sexual nature of Man.

"No one does," Dor said, smiling.