Two To The Fifth (16 page)

“Clumsy oaf,” Kadence whispered from the prompter's box.

“Clumsy oaf!” the Witch screamed, “You just squished my Bleeding Heart Orchid!” The audience never knew that the brief pause had been a mental blanking of her line.

Guise opened his mouth. “I—I—”

“I'm sorry,” Kadence whispered.

“I'm sorry.” he agreed. “I didn't see—”

“Didn't see? Didn't see?” the Witch screeched, having no more trouble now that she was fairly started. She went on to curse him with Feeling Sight.

Cyrus, watching from the edge, saw the audience become expectantly confused. They did not know what Feeling Sight was, but were sure it would soon turn out to be awful.

In due course Guise encountered Acro, in her marvelously nicely skimpy outfit, surrounded by greenish light. It was a very nice effect, and the audience clearly liked gazing at her body. He got his lines out, but she stood frozen.

“One for what?” Kadence whispered.

That got her started, and she completed her lines. Meanwhile the audience, seeing her glow, was beginning to catch on.

Guise realized that he couldn't marry the wrong color glow, and went on to Dusti, whose glow was pink. She, too, was beautifully costumed, but lost her line and had to be prompted.

After her, Xina, glowing blue, the prettiest yet, also needed prompting. So did Crabapple, who could barely force herself to go out onto the stage. In fact, the only one who didn't need it was Tuff, the least experienced actor. But apart from that, it went well, and the audience never knew. It shuddered when the Witch formed her plot, and screamed when the feather boa struck, and cheered when Crabapple cut it away, and cried when she married Guise herself. She was of course the female lead, and her nervousness lent her a quality that enhanced her role and made her almost eerily beautiful.

The applause at the end was long and loud. They made Crabapple return to the stage several times. She was crying so hard that she couldn't see, and Guise had to guide her by the elbow, but they were joyful tears. She had returned to her village as a success.

As it turned out, the other actors were crying too. It was a great event.

“They have been bloodied,” Curtis said with satisfaction. “They will perform better in the future.”

There was an atmosphere of camaraderie as the troupe returned to the camp. They had performed together and made it work. And Kadence was the minor hero of the day, for her apt prompting.

Only later did Cyrus figure it out. “That applause wasn't natural,” he said.

“Kadence did it,” Melete agreed. “She wanted Crabapple to be appreciated.”

“Kadence did it?”

“Her talent is aligning people and things to the beat, the cadence,” Melete said. “During the play she aligned each faltering actor to the play script, so that there would be no more blanks. Then toward the end she focused on the audience, causing the people to applaud together, especially for Crabapple. They did not realize they were guided.”

“My daughter really is a Sorceress,” he said, awed. The notion was just a bit frightening. He had already seen what a Sorceress could do.

Cyrus was struggling to write his second play, titled “The Dream,” with Melete's assistance. He was discovering that even with the help of the Muse, the story did not necessarily flow.

“Writing is ten percent inspiration, ninety percent perspiration,” she reminded him. “You need to perspire. If I do it all for you, you'll never become a great Playwright in your own right.”

“I appreciate your consideration,” he said, not appreciating it at all.

“It's for your own good,” she said sulkily. The problem with her was that she understood him too well.

“Sure.” He concentrated, getting little or nowhere. So he had a great title; what next? Should it feature a night mare who brought a good dream instead of a bad dream? He had the suspicion that had been done before. In fact he seemed to remember Night Mare Imbrium getting tried for it. That had been an injustice to her; she was simply a nice creature.

Thank you. Then with a flick of her tail she was gone.

Oops. He had been daydreaming.

The day was late, and Rhythm arrived before he knew it.

“She just can't get enough of you,” Melete murmured. “This time set me on the table so I can watch.”

“I never took you for a voyeur,” Cyrus told her, smiling. Rhythm's visits always cheered him up.

“I'm not. I'm merely jealous. She can distract you from your writing without even trying.”

“That's the joy of it,” Rhythm said.

Melete was jealous of his passion for Rhythm? That might explain why she was making him work so hard. But it was true that he never thought about plays when with Rhythm.

The paper appeared in midair between them just as Rhythm was about to invoke the Decade spell. She grabbed it before it drifted to the floor. She read it:

“VIOLATION. You have been charged with Violation of the Adult Conspiracy. Report to the Stork Works in forty-eight hours for the hearing. Fail not, on pain of penalty.”

She stared at him, aghast. “Cyrus! They're charging you with—”

“Well, I'm guilty,” he said, horrified.

“No you aren't! I have always been twenty-two for you, except when I was even older.”

He shook his head. “Your true age is twelve. I knew it. The Decade spell is like an Accommodation spell, making it possible for two folk to get together who have no business being together in that manner. I must pay the penalty, whatever it is.”

She shook her head. “That might be the abolition of Kadence.”

He sank back on the bed. “That would be unbearable.”

“Melete, what can we do?” Rhythm asked the Muse.

“You will just have to persuade the stork authorities that you were of age when the stork was signaled, and when the baby was delivered.” Melete said.

“Well, we were,” Rhythm said.

“But their records may not show it, understandably.”

Rhythm nodded. “Yes, that could be the case. Once we explain, they'll understand. I hope.”

Cyrus hoped so too. “It says to report there within forty-eight hours. I don't even know where the Stork Works is.”

“I can find it,” Rhythm said. “But—”

“But you don't want to give away your nature by helping me get there magically,” Cyrus said.

“The notice should have instructions,” Melete said.

Rhythm looked. “Oh, yes. I didn't read that far before. It says there will be a pastel-colored line showing a safe way.” She looked around. “Oh, I see it now! It leads right out of the tent.”

“But I can't go right now,” Cyrus protested. “The play—”

“Will keep,” Melete said. “Better than you will, if you don't make that hearing.”

“What would be the penalty?” he asked.

“It could be anything from banishment from Xanth to abolition of your child.”

“No!” Rhythm cried, “We already know we can't allow that.”

But the notion clung to Cyrus like burning tar “Kadence! We can't let her be abolished.”

“So you will make that hearing,” Melete said firmly. “Tell Curtis you have an urgent appointment and will be back in four days. Rhythm will help cover for you.”

“The bleep I will,” Rhythm said. “I'm going with him. I'm not going to let them banish him.”

“Then who will watch out for Kadence?” Melete asked evenly.

That faint bit of barbarian wildness played across Rhythm's face. “We had better take her too. She has a right to speak, if she faces extinction. But I'm not going to let that happen, even if I have to do something rash.”

Cyrus realized that her dangerous Sorceress aspect was coming into play. He loved it. Even the Stork Works should be wary of crossing this girl, “I agree. But how can we explain the three of us departing together?”

“I will cast a small believing spell as you tell Curtis,” Rhythm said grimly.

“That works,” he agreed.

He went immediately to see the producer Curtis offered no objection. “Just return with inspiration for the next play. We have a schedule to keep.”

“We'll keep it,” Cyrus agreed.

Next he talked to Don Donkey. '“You have been faithfully and quietly guarding my tent all this time,” he said. “Now I need you to do more.”

“We're going somewhere,” Don said.

“I am. You're not, I need you to stay here and keep an eye on things for me.”

“Hee haw!” the donkey laughed. “As if I have any authority.”

“I'm serious. I need to know that nothing goes wrong here while I'm away. So you can walk around the camp, keeping your eyes open, and I'll look through them every so often to see what you're seeing. You can also give me verbal reports.”

“I'd rather travel.”

“Maybe next time.”

“Grumble.”

“Hee haw,” Cyrus laughed.

They found Kadence. “Come with us,” Rhythm said. “It's important.”

The child didn't argue. She respected her mother, more than ever since discovering the powers of Sorcery.

Soon they were following the pastel line out of the camp. Cyrus had some trouble seeing it at first, so Rhythm enhanced it with a spell so that both he and Kadence could see it clearly. That way there would never be any doubt about their route.

“But you know, Kadence,” Rhythm said as they walked. “When we camp tonight—”

“Oh, I know. You can put a sleep spell on me so you can do naughty things with Father.”

“Are you sure you have no idea what they are?” Rhythm asked suspiciously. She was increasingly like a regular mother when with her daughter.

“Of course I don't know,” the girl said. “And of course Aunt Melody and Aunt Harmony haven't told me anything. I'm sure panties have nothing to do with it.”

Cyrus had to bite his tongue. The girl was learning early what secrets to keep.

The pastel line led them to a campsite they hadn't known about before. It wasn't on the enchanted path network, which meant there could be danger, but Rhythm was sure she could handle it.

“There's even a nice bed,” Kadence remarked. “Can I have it?”

Rhythm hesitated. “Let me borrow Cousin Eve's talent to check it. She can tell anything about anything that isn't alive, just by touching it.” She poked a finger at the bed. And froze.

“Rhythm!” Cyrus exclaimed, alarmed.

“Mother!” Kadence said, also alarmed.

Rhythm just stood there, her finger touching the bed. She did not seem to be breathing.

Cyrus threw his arms about her and lifted her away from the bed. Then she came back to life. “Dear, I haven't changed yet,” she murmured in his ear, then kissed it.

She meant her age. She thought he was embracing her. “You were stuck there frozen,” he said, setting her down. “We feared for you.'”

“Now I remember. I touched that bed, and it was as if I died. I couldn't even breathe.”

She faced the bed, “Now I know its nature: it's a Death Bed. Anyone who lies on it, dies.”

“I was going to lie on it!” Kadence said, horrified.

“Don't touch it,” Cyrus said, also horrified.

“Maybe this isn't the best place to camp.” Kadence said, shuddering.

“I'll destroy it,” Rhythm said, her drum and drumsticks appearing.

“Wait,” Cyrus said. “This is not necessarily a bad thing. Maybe people who are tired of life come here. It would be an easy way to end it. All we have to do is leave it alone.”

“You're so practical,” Rhythm said, turning an adoring gaze on him.

“I wish you wouldn't do that when you're—twelve,” he said uncomfortably.

“I got my crush on you at this age,” she said. “That's what got us into this mess. But I don't want to waste any part of my adult hour on incidentals like talk or food.”

She had a point. “Still, when Kadence is present—”

“As if I didn't know you love each other,” Kadence said.

“Still, it's an awkward situation.”

That sobered Kadence. “Are they going to abolish me?” she asked plaintively.

Rhythm hugged her, “Over my dead body.”

“Don't lie on the Death Bed!” Kadence cried, half laughing.

That gave Cyrus an awful thought. “That Death Bed—could it be along this route not by accident?”

Rhythm met his gaze, appalled, “The storks—they wouldn't do that, would they?”

“Of course not,” Cyrus said. But he was in doubt. The elimination of Kadence might be the first step in dealing with his Violation of the Adult Conspiracy.

“I'm going to tell my sisters,” Rhythm said grimly. “They'll look out for us.”

“Is that wise? They might do something rash.”

She nodded. “They might indeed. All right, I'll leave them out of it, for now.”

“Maybe that's best,” Cyrus agreed. This was anything but an innocent trip.

There was a patch of pretty flowers shaped like mugs, each filled with nectar. Rhythm touched one cautiously with her little finger, “It's ale!” she said. “Fem ale.”

“It's for you,” Kadence said. “Female.”

“No,” Cyrus said firmly. “Ale—any ale—is an adult drink. You two stick to boot rear or tsoda pop.”

“Awww,” Rhythm and Kadence said together, smiling.

“I will stick with innocent drinks too,” he said.

“That's nice of you,” Rhythm said. But there was a mischievous twinge he didn't quite trust. She was too prone to naughtiness. He loved and feared that.

Cyrus remembered something, “I'd better check on Don.”

“Your robot donkey?” Kadence asked, “He's nice. I wish he had come along.”

“I asked him to stay, to keep an eye on the troupe. He is made with a robot radio that I can tune in on with the robot part of my brain.” He closed his eyes, mentally dialed the number, and tuned in. “How are things, Don?”

“Routine,” the donkey said, looking around to show nothing happening. “Dull.”

“That's good.” He tuned out.

“That's weird,” Kadence said approvingly.

“Well, I am half robot.”

“And half human,” Rhythm said, “As I am about to prove again.”

“Rhythm!” But he couldn't help liking the way she proved it.

They had pies and boot rear, then settled for the night away from the Bed. Rhythm did put a sleep spell on her daughter, then invoked the Decade spell she had not used before and embraced Cyrus.

“Technically Rhythm is of age now,” Melete said, watching from the tree branch where he had set her “If necessary, she can demonstrate that spell to the storks. The storks should realize that there is no Violation. Technically.”

Cyrus hoped that was the case. But if the storks went by her regular age, he would be in severe trouble. Just how seriously were they taking his matter? That bed...

“Now I can have that ale,” Rhythm said. She went to pick up the Fem ale mug, and he couldn't stop her. So he took a mug also. His turned out to be Reg ale, which seemed fit for a feast.

She tried a sip. “This is good,” she remarked, and took a bigger sip. “I always suspected that Adults were hiding secret pleasures from children.” She took a gulp.

“You should go easy on that stuff.” he said.

“Really?” She swallowed more. “I'm feeling great.”

“That's its effect. But too much can make you sick.”

“I don't believe it.” She drained the mug. She became visibly more voluptuously female.

Cyrus was nervous about this. She was adult, for the hour, but lacked much adult experience. He was feeling his own drink, and feared she was too. “I hope I'm not contributing to your delinquency.”

“I'm not going to let them banish you, Cyrus—or Kadence,” Rhythm said, her hair turning wild. “I am a Sorceress, and with my sisters' help I mean to set this whole thing straight.” She got up to go for another drink.

He had to distract her before she got drunk. “Oh, I love you, I love you!” he said, kissing her. “Especially when you start being barbaric.”

“Even though I used a love spring on you?” she asked teasingly.

“I told you: you won me with your first grown kiss. That love spring didn't make any more difference to me than it did to you.”

“I know.”

“You do? How?”

“Because it wasn't really a love spring. I just told you that so you wouldn't resist.”

“You vixen! If I had known that—”

“You would have resisted despite loving me,” she said. “Instead of abandoning yourself to the passion of it.”

He nodded. “I would have tried to resist. I don't think you would have let me succeed.”

“True. I would have done this.” She did something naughty.

“Rhythm!” He had thought he was beyond shock. At her for doing it, and at himself for liking it.

“And this.” Naughtier.

“I would not have succeeded,” he agreed as he reacted. He was beginning to feel a bit barbaric himself. What a woman she was!

Then she lurched to her feet, staggered to the nearest brush, and spewed out the remains of her ale.

He got up and held her while she heaved. “I'm sorry.”

“You warned me.” After a messy moment she straightened up. “I'm okay now.”

“That's good.”

“Next time I'll drink slower.”

“That will spare you the sickness.”

“That will spare me from telling you more than I should.”

So she hadn't intended to tell him about the fake love spring, “And doing more than you should.”

“No, that's all right. I love you.” She kissed him avidly. Her mouth was rather slippery, but he didn't mind.

“Are you sure you're up to—”