Swell Foop Part 17

"She matured and married Cheiron. Their first foal was Che, who became the tutor to the Simurgh's chick Sim. They have other foals, and are quite satisfied with life."

"I am so glad to hear it. Chex was a good person, though no older than you are now." She squinted at Cynthia. "You look to be about sixteen."

"Yes, Dame." And the old woman looked to be over a hundred. "Actually, she was younger when she visited the Kiss Mee River. She was fully mature by age ten, because of her winged monster sire."

The woman peered at her. "There is reason you do not call me Crone?"

Cynthia was on the verge of being slightly fl.u.s.tered. "I do not wish to be offensive."

"You know nothing of me since I shared adventures with Chex and her friends Esk Ogre and Volney Vole?"

"That is true, Dame. I-I needed to invoke a name to gain admittance to Castle Gateway, and yours was the only one I knew. Because Chex mentioned you as a good person. I apologize for my ignorance."

"And your companion, the zombie mermaid?"

"Mazizdath," Zilche said.

"I am unable to fathom that word," Cynthia said, embarra.s.sed.

Latia addressed the zombie again. "So you know, but she does not?"

"Yez."

"How delightful! It is such a pleasure to encounter innocence."

"Innocence?" Cynthia asked, not totally pleased.

"I will explain. Thanks in significant part to Chex and her friends of the time, we had a successful mission, and I returned to Gateway Castle with elevated status despite my infirmity of talent."

"Infirmity?" Cynthia asked, still muddled. Actually, she knew what Latia meant, but remained distracted by this mysterious reference to innocence. What had she failed to comprehend?

"We curse friends all have the same talent: cursing. This manifests in different ways, but generally means mischief for those we curse. Unfortunately my cursing is flawed; one curse in three turns out to be a blessing. My a.s.sociates wanted to be rid of me, for my visage even then was so ugly as to curdle water. But after my success, that was not possible, and in due course seniority enabled me to a.s.sume the role of Magistrate."

"Mazizdath," Zilche agreed.

"Magistrate," Cynthia echoed, finally seeing it. "But isn't that a significant office in your society?"

"Yes. Equivalent to Queen in the human society."

"Oh!" Cynthia cried, appalled as she realized the nature of her ignorance. "And I demanded to see you! I didn't know!"

"Yes, so we have ascertained. You are the first in some time to come to me asking a favor without knowing my office. I like that."

"But the guard called you a-a-"

"Crone. Not a-the."

"I-I don't-"

"Ze Crone rulz," Zilche exclaimed.

"The Crone rules," Latia agreed. "It is no longer a term of disrespect, but my t.i.tle. There is only one Crone in the Gateway Castle at present."

"I had no idea! I would never have-"

"I know, dear. I liked Chex, and I like you; you will surely do right by her foal. Now let's see to your mission. You seek the Ring of Water."

"Yes, Dame-I mean Crone."

"I had no idea it was here, but zombies lack the wit to prevaricate. We surely do have it. We shall undertake a search for it."

"Thank you, Crone." Cynthia felt weak in all four knees. This had seemed so doubtful, and grown worse, yet suddenly had turned out so well.

Latia picked up a little bell and rang it. Immediately a uniformed man appeared. "Yes, Crone."

"Inst.i.tute a thorough search of the premises. You are looking for the Ring of Water. This is a band of exceeding power, I suspect not made of water." Latia allowed a smile to crack the lower portion of her face. She had made a funny. "We do not know its precise appearance, other than the form of a ring. So bring all rings you find here for inspection."

"Yes, Crone." He disappeared.

"Now while they search, would you like to see a play? We are always in need of pre-tour audience reaction by persons who have no familiarity with the productions."

Cynthia realized that it would not be courteous to decline, though she was not at all sure she wanted to waste time in such manner. "If you wish, Crone."

"This way." Latia got off her cushion, which Cynthia now realized was padding on a throne, and led the way out of the chamber. Obviously the woman was not much for ceremony, and she was quite spry for her age.

They went down another flight of stairs. There was a window, and Cynthia saw that beyond it was water, with fish swimming by. This was below the surface of the lake!

"You must admire this," Latia said, indicating a ma.s.sive gla.s.s wall.

They peered out. There was a monstrous whirlpool, swirling down to unknown depths. "This is what keeps Lake Ogre Chobee shallow," Latia explained. "Its extra water pours into the depths, concluding at the Pool of the Brain Coral."

"Oh, this is the other end of the underground river!" Cynthia exclaimed. "I had not realized."

"Few do. But we do regard ourselves as guarding the gateway to the underworld."

They followed her to a larger chamber. There were several chairs, and a fair-sized tank of water. "For your friend," Latia said, indicating it.

Cynthia set Zilche in the tank, and the mermaid swished her tail gratefully.

The stage curtains parted to reveal a group of actors holding various objects. One stepped forward. "The name of this play is Charades. It is interactive. We shall present each concept for ten seconds, and if any member of the audience fathoms it, the audience scores a point. After that time, the answer will be given, and the audience will lose a point. At the end of the play, the score will determine whether the players or the audience won."

"I am not familiar with this play, so I will be a part of the audience," Latia said. "Thus we are three."

The first player stepped forward. She wore nothing but a tight body stocking. It occurred to Cynthia that any males would have found that interesting, for the actress was of a shapely disposition. She lifted a suit from a hanger, and put on trousers over her bare-seeming legs. Suddenly water splashed out; the trousers must have been filled with it. Then she put on a jacket, and bubbly water poured out from around her arms. "I am becoming quite clean," she said, "as this apparel washes me. What is it?"

A suit that washed its wearer? Cynthia drew a blank.

"Bazing zuit!" Zilche said.

"A bathing suit," the actress agreed. The number 1 appeared on a plaque marked AUDIENCE.

A man stepped forward. He carried a cudgel that was shaped roughly like a volume, with visible pages. "I will pulverize ignorance!" he declaimed, swinging the tome around. "What do I have here?"

"Why, I believe that is a book club," Latia said, and the audience number went to 2.

A third actor brought out a large bowl. In it was a ball that rolled around and around of its own accord. Cynthia tried to figure it out, but had no success, and neither did the others. "A bowling ball," the actor said. The 2 became a 1. They had lost a pun.

"I don't think that quite works," Latia said. "It is a ball in a bowl, but not bowling it over."

"I agree," Cynthia said.

Another actor stepped forward. She had a bell, but when she rang it, instead of ringing it went "Mooo!"

"A cow bell!" Cynthia said, finally getting one.

The next actor was in the shape of a huge foot. It hopped up to another actor who was evidently feeling ill. "Take two pills and call me in the morning," the foot said.

"Fooz docthor!" Zilche said.

"A foot doctor," the actor agreed, and the score went to 3.

Stage hands laid down a blue sheet with waves painted on it. Then an actor dived on it, as if thinking he would swim. Instead he bounced off the surface. "What is this?" he asked, seemingly bewildered.

Cynthia had had enough. "Please, I must search for the Ring," she murmured.

"Hardz wazer!" Zilche said.

"Hard water," Latia agreed. "I must say, you are sharp at charades, Zilche."

"Zank zhu."

"This mission is important," Cynthia said, moving toward the door.

Meanwhile, onstage, an actress donned a light coat. Then she started doing nasty little things to other actors.

"It must be something about the coat," Latia said, mystified.

"Meenz Zpiritedz," Zilche agreed, also struggling.

"It's a petticoat," Cynthia called back as she left the room. "It makes its wearer think petty thoughts and do petty things." Then she trotted off, her absence surely not even noticed. She was glad to get away from those awful puns. Maybe it took a mind pickled by great age or zombyism to sit still for all that.

One side of the hall was the great gla.s.s wall; surely no Ring hidden there. The other side was lined with doors. She peeked into the next chamber. Curse fiends-curse friends, as they called themselves-were busily searching everywhere. Good enough.

She walked on, checking other chambers. All were busy, until she came to one that was empty. It was evidently a theater that was not currently in use; stage props were stacked everywhere. She saw five statues of men and women set in a circle facing inward. "Circle of friends," she murmured, then reacted. "Horseflies! I'm still fathoming puns!"

Could the Ring be here? She saw no particular reason, as it could be anywhere in Gateway Castle. But it occurred to her that if she was destined to be the one to find and wield this Ring, then she would somehow be led to it. Perhaps there would be a psychic rapport.

She looked around, seeking rapport. Her eyes fell on a folded blanket. She picked it up, and saw that it was made from many little dots, each with four tiny hands that clasped the hands of other dots, forming an array that in its larger scope became the blanket.

"A dot matrix," she murmured, and winced as she realized she had done it again. "Founderhoofs! I've got to rid my brain of these puns so I can find the Ring!"

She closed her eyes and tried again. She tried to clear her mind of all punnish thoughts, focusing only on the Ring. And it seemed to work. The image of a circle formed, white and bright. Could she have found it?

She opened her eyes. There was the circle: a large ring of smooth white wood set on a box. Could that be it?

She walked to it-and caught the smell of manure. Suddenly she recognized the structure: It was one of the human refuse devices. A person would sit on it and deposit a clod of manure, then depart. Humans were exceedingly uptight about natural functions, and tried to conceal them whenever possible. Hence this unwieldy mechanism. When repeated uses filled the box, it would be emptied into a latrine pit. So this was just a stage prop, or, worse, a real toilet for stage hands to use. She had thought this could be the marvelous Ring of Water?

Disgusted, she searched elsewhere in the chamber. There were props galore, but no Rings. Obviously it wasn't here, or was so well hidden she could not find it. Maybe her notion about being somehow attuned to it was vain. Maybe she simply was not destined to be the user of this Ring. After all, she had more or less randomly come to Zilche, and a.s.sumed that she could locate the particular Ring the zombie knew about. That was a very tenuous connection.

Still, the Good Magician had given her a mission to perform, and this Ring was an essential part of that mission. If she was not to be the one to find it, then who else was?

"No one!" she exclaimed. "This has to be my Ring to find."

So where was it most likely to be? Apparently it was so well hidden that all the curse fiends could not find it. So it must be in the least likely place. What was that?

"The toilet," she said with wry humor.

Then she paused, gazing at the human privy box. Wouldn't that be fitting!

She walked back to the box. She put her hand to the white wooden ring and picked it up. "Ring of Water, I claim you," she said.

There was a flushing sound, and the Ring dissolved, becoming fluid. It was flowing away! But then it coalesced, forming a translucent Ring around her left little finger.

She had found it. Now what was she going to do with it?

There was just a tiny weak hint of maybe a doubt in her mind. Was this the Ring of Water-or was it merely an imitator? She needed to find out before she called off the search.

She took the Ring out to the hall and gazed through the thick gla.s.s. This was supposed to have power over all the water creatures. She would find out.

"If there is any big sea monster in range, come to me," she said. But of course this was foolish, as she was in the castle and couldn't be heard beyond it. She would have to find a better test.

Then a shape loomed in the dark water of the whirlpool. It was a huge serpent! It spread itself against the gla.s.s, so as to avoid being sucked down into the vortex below. Its head swung around to gaze at Cynthia. The thing was enormous. Each eye was almost the size of Cynthia's head.

Embarra.s.sed, she reversed. "Return to safe waters," she said.

The serpent nodded, then slithered around and upward, escaping the deadly pull. Soon it was gone.

Cynthia turned to discover Latia there. "So you found it," the Crone said.

"So it seems. I wasn't sure, so-"

"Of course. I will call off the other searchers."

"Thank you," Cynthia said faintly.

"We haven't seen that monster in twenty years. I had feared it was dead."

"Just busy elsewhere," Cynthia said. "I shouldn't have bothered it." But Latia was already turning away. Out of sorts, Cynthia returned to the play chamber.