Heaven Cent (9 page)

Then, just before he slept, he remembered: the Tapestry was oriented on him. The folk at Castle Roogna would know where he was! They would rescue him! He had nothing to worry about!

Why, then, did he feel a certain tinge of disappointment?

“Hang on, Dolph!” Marrow cried as the sudden gust of wind blew the boat over.

But it was too late; Dolph was pitched into the heaving sea. Marrow was unable to help him, because his skull was set inside the craft and could not see out and the craft was now capsized. All he could see, as the waves turned them around, was the flash of a fluke as the merwoman moved.

She had done this, he knew. She had summoned Fracto, who had been glad to make mischief, and now she had what she wanted. She would haul Dolph to the bottom of the sea and keep him there forever.

Marrow knew it was his responsibility, for he was Dolph's adult companion. He should have anticipated this disaster and taken precautions. If they had just crossed directly to land, the merwoman never could have interfered. If he had even told Dolph to become a sea bird or a fish, at the last moment, it would have helped. But his hollow skull had not thought fast enough, and so had come up with an empty warning. Naturally, the boy had been too distracted to think of changing form himself; the merwoman had acted with too much dispatch.

He would have to do something to help Dolph. But first, he realized, he had to help himself. He had to regain his normal form, and Grace’l had to regain hers. At the moment she could not even speak, because her teeth were locked onto his shinbone that made the bar across the boat. If she let go, she would be washed away. Fortunately, she was aware of this and kept her teeth clamped tight.

The savage winds continued to howl, and the waves did their best to smash the craft to bits. If they succeeded, both skeletons would be lost, for they could not survive dismemberment. Not in a situation like this. If it occurred on land, friends could collect the bones and put them back together, but here in the sea there were no friends and the bones would be completely scattered.

“We are in trouble,” he called over the roar and splash. “Don't let go, Grace’l, until I figure out what to do. Maybe we can ride out the storm!”

But that seemed less likely with every moment that passed. Mean Fracto was concentrating on the craft, trying to buffet it apart. Fracto loved to destroy things; his reputation was notorious. Whenever rain was not wanted, Fracto would float over to bring a deluge, and whenever calm weather was needed, Fracto would be there to disturb it. Now the mean cloud had a helpless victim, and intended to demolish it completely.

In addition, the waves were washing the craft farther out to sea. Fracto intended to see that no bone got back to shore!

Neither Marrow nor Grace’l could change form until some other party booted them apart. The action of the waves wouldn't do it; it had to be a swift kick in the tailbone. If one recovered the natural form, he or she could kick the other—but how could either of them change now? There had to be someone else—and how could there be, here on the heaving surface of the ocean, here in the heart of the storm?

“You're a terrible person, Fracto!” Marrow cried in frustration. But the winds only laughed. Fracto was really enjoying himself.

Then Marrow thought of a way. His arm bones were part of the bracing of the sides of the boat, and his hand bones gripped the ends of it together, and his finger bones formed the topmost rim. If he could just raise his hollow finger—

It was a struggle, because he was not in his natural form, but he managed to lift that finger so that it stood at right angles to the rest of the rim. Now to get Fracto to do his part.

“Hey, you fuzzy cloud!” he called with his jawbones. “I am contemptuous of you! I present my finger to you!”

There were many types of magic in Xanth, and few in Mundania, but some aspects of it were so universal and fundamental that they were to be found everywhere. One of these was insult magic, especially of the simplest variety. A single elevated finger represented one of the most potent of all; anyone who saw it was immediately insulted and driven to fury. There was no practical reason for this; it was just the nature of the spell.

Fracto saw the finger and of course reacted. He blew the most horrendous gust at it, trying to destroy it. The wind was so strong that the air passed right through the finger and activated its whistle.

The sound was piercing. It struck right through the dull roar of the waves and the mixed swish of the air. It was Marrow's cry for help. He had succeeded in sounding it!

“Now all we have to do is survive until help comes.” he called to Grace’l. “Just hang on.”

They hung on. The angry winds continued, but were unable to do more than shove the craft farther out to sea. Fracto's rage was impressive, but inevitably it blew over; the cloud just did not have much staying power.

Then a form loomed in the air. Marrow could see only its fleeting, vague shadow, but he knew what it was. “Chex!” he cried. “Here!”

Too late he realized that Chex would have little way to help. She was a winged centaur, and could not land on the water, and her hands could not reach to the ground. She would not be able to pick up the craft and carry it out of the storm. Had he summoned her for nothing?

Then a net slapped the water beside him. The edge of it sank, and was pulled up—and the craft was caught in it. Chex had come prepared!

Fracto howled with renewed fury, but it was too late; by the time the cloud could organize his second wind for a real blow, Chex had hauled the netful of bones into the air. At first it was too heavy for her, but she flicked it twice with her tail, and it became lighter. This was an aspect of her magic: her tail made what it flicked lose weight. When she flicked herself, she became light, so that her wings could carry her aloft; when she flicked something else, that thing became similarly light.

Stronger gusts came at them, but Chex merely used those winds to buoy her flight, and made better progress. She was not afraid to fly out to sea; she could fly wherever she wanted. Soon she left the turbulent storm behind and flew into clear air. She had rescued them.

It required some time to reach land, because they had to go around the storm, but in due course Chex settled on the beach and opened the net. “Kick me,” Marrow told her. “And kick the sail.”

Chex understood; she was an old friend of Marrow's. They had met when Esk brought Marrow from the gourd, and had traveled together when she went to talk with her sire, Xap, at the top of the mountain of winged monsters. She booted the side of the boat with a forehoof, then booted the fallen sail.

Marrow and Grace’l landed, reformed, almost together, Dolph's knapsack between them. “Well,” Chex said, “I see you have a lady friend, and she has really nice bones.”

It was of course impossible for skeletons to blush, but both Marrow and Grace’l gave it their best effort. Marrow hastily introduced skeleton to centaur and explained about their mission to find the Heaven Cent and a viable gourd for Grace’l’s return. “But a merwoman abducted Dolph,” he concluded. “Now we must rescue Dolph. His mother would never speak to me again if I let him be permanently lost.”

“You could be correct,” Chex agreed, with a quarter smile. She was a fine figure of a centaur filly, with full bare breasts, and great gray wings, and flowing brown hair and tail. Even her eyes were esthetic, being the same shade of gray as her wings, which were almost the color of bone. Marrow found that flesh was not hideous when it was where it obviously belonged.

“So we must rescue him,” Dolph concluded.

“Are you sure he needs it?” Chex asked.

Both Marrow and Grace’l looked at her with surprise. “Of course he needs it!” Marrow said. “He's captive!”

“But I think not in danger.”

“Of course he's in danger! Why would you think otherwise?”

“Because his mother and sister are surely keeping track of him via the Tapestry, and they will act the moment they believe he is in serious peril. Since they appear not to have acted, we can assume that he is not in peril.”

Marrow had not thought of that, but it did make sense. Of course, centaurs always made more sense than other folk did. “But wouldn't they act to prevent him from remaining captive?” he asked. “Surely they don't want a prince of Xanth held forever under the sea!”

“I think they would not act quickly,” Chex said. “They would prefer either to leave him in a safe place where he could not stray until he became thoroughly bored with his adventure and was quite ready to return home without complaint, or to have him make his own escape, so that he could gain necessary experience and prestige as a prince.”

“Oh—and then help him if he got in trouble while trying to escape?”

“Yes. But of course he may not try.”

“May not try! Why wouldn't he try?”

“Let me explain,” she said in the practical manner of one who has evidently thought a matter through more thoroughly than others had. This manner was another centaur trait, the more maddening because it was usually justified. “Merwomen keep their youthful appearance much longer than do mermen, and while the men become very little interested in romance, the women retain what is said to be a very lively libido. Thus they are all too often in search of extramarital affairs of the heart. Since they are uncomfortable on land, though they do have the ability to shape legs and go ashore, they seek solace mainly from the men of the sea: sailors, fishermen, and visitors. Once one of them fixes on a particular man, she will not rest until she has him. When she does get him, she treats him very well. They are highly proficient in the arts that please men. Indeed, it is said that there is hardly a better fate than for a man to be captured by one of these, and that many reported drownings are nothing of the kind; the man simply does not want to leave his lover in the sea. Now, since you know that Prince Dolph was taken by such a creature, how can you be sure he is not quite satisfied to remain where he is?”

“He is only nine years old,” Marrow said succinctly.

“Merwomen are kind to children, too; many wilderness nymphs are. Children have been known to mature surprisingly quickly, in the company of such creatures. In the interim, she could give him many things he likes, such as toys and candy and uncritical attention. She could show him a side of the female persuasion that he has not before appreciated. No, children are not immune to such blandishments; they are more receptive to them than are adults.”

“But Dolph was on a mission!” Marrow protested. “He was in quest of the Heaven Cent!”

“The what?” she inquired, frowning.

Marrow explained about the cent. “So you see, he would not want to leave that unfinished.”

“I suppose that's true,” Chex agreed, not entirely pleased to have had to learn something from a noncentaur person. “So he should have motivation to continue his search. Perhaps it would be best simply to wait and see what happens.”

Marrow pondered. His hollow skull was ill-equipped to debate policy with the sharp mind of a centaur, yet he was not satisfied to accept her suggestion. Why wasn't he?

Finally he got it straight. “I don't think so. I must go to rescue Dolph.”

Chex arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Why?”

“Because he is a child, and is not expected to make mature judgments on things. I am his adult companion; it is my job to provide the judgment he lacks. If he does not have the sense to try to escape from the merwoman, I must exercise that sense for him. Otherwise there is no point in my presence.”

“Even if he does not want to escape?”

“Especially if he does not want to escape! That would mean the merwoman has corrupted him, and it is my duty to counter that corruption. When he is an adult, he may stay with a merwoman if he wants to, but as a child this is an option I must deny him.”

Chex looked at Grace’l, who had not said a word during this discussion. “How do you feel about it?”

“It is not my business to interfere,” Grace’l said. “I am only along until we find a gourd, so I can go home.”

“As it happens, I saw a gourd as we were coming in for a landing here,” Chex said. “It should be quite close; let me check.” She spread her wings, flicked herself with her tail, and took off.

Marrow had mixed emotions. This was a rare experience, for skeletons were not phenomenally emotional, and seldom had more than one emotion at a time. On the one bone hand, he was glad that Grace’l would have her wish; on the other, he would have liked to have her company longer. He had not been aware of how much he missed the companionship of his own kind until he met her.

“How are you going to rescue Dolph?” Grace’l inquired.

“I had not thought about that. I suppose I shall have to walk under the sea and search for the merwoman's lair, and take him out.”

“That may not be easy.”

“I must at least make the effort.”

She nodded. She seemed to be thinking her own hollow thoughts.

Soon Chex returned. “Yes, I found it. We can reach it very quickly. At least one problem can be readily solved.”

“No,” Grace’l said.

“What?” Marrow asked.

“I have changed my mind. I will take another gourd home,”

“Why?” Chex asked.

“Because if Marrow is responsible for Prince Dolph, then I am responsible too. They were helping me look for a gourd, and I was helping them look for the Heaven Cent. I was part of the craft on the water that let Dolph get captured by the merwoman. I must at least help rescue Dolph, so that he can continue his mission. Then I can return to my realm.”

“So the two of you are going to attempt to rescue Dolph, no matter what I say?” Chex asked.

“Yes,” Marrow said, and Grace’l nodded agreement.

Chex smiled. “I am glad to hear it. Let me help you plan the rescue.”

“But you are against the rescue!” Marrow protested.

Chex laughed. “Hardly! There was no way I was going to let Prince Dolph remain in the clutches of that merwoman.”

“But you argued—”

“The other side. Of course. It is always best to be conversant with both sides of an issue before taking action. It was also important that I ascertain the extent of your commitment to the rescue, as it may be difficult and will require close coordination.”

Marrow's skull seemed filled with fuzz. “You have no obligation to rescue Dolph! You came to rescue me!”