Heaven Cent (30 page)

As it happened, the Sorceress had completed the last of her regular picture tapestries, and the Heaven Cent was not quite yet ready, so she was happy to fill in with the royal coverlet. The Princess was an interesting person, not because of any great wit, but because she was well versed in the necessary graces, and well endowed with the latest gossip of the kingdom. She knew, for example, that King Roogna was now building a massive castle to be named after him, from which he proposed to rule Xanth with integrity and vigor. But there were rumors of great restlessness among the harpies and goblins, and it was said that war between them could break out at any time. That, the Princess declared, could become very messy. She was anxious to get on her long sleep before all that nastiness erupted. She was a Princess by virtue of the bloodline of the former King, whom Roogna was replacing; since she was female and had only an ordinary talent of making that rare magic flower the amaranth bloom, there was really no suitable place for her in this framework. It was best to make a suitably graceful exit from the scene.

Electra found all this fascinating. She was now eleven years old, though she looked younger because she was small for her age; she knew that before too many more years passed she would erupt into maidenhood, and she wanted to master the maidenly manners. The princess was totally expert in these, and happy to inform Electra about even the most trifling details. Millie the maid was also interested. They formed a small class, flinging their hair about in unison, kicking their feet just so for maximum cuteness, and screaming with just the proper maidenly accent. Millie was especially good at these graces, being now about seventeen and so nicely formed that the Princess was slightly put off. It wasn't good for a Princess to associate with anyone who might distract the male gaze from the Princess herself. Still, Millie was such a nice person that the Princess was inclined to be tolerant. The Sorceress observed all this with a reminiscent smile; she was many decades past her nymphly prime, but she well understood the importance for the young women to drive men mad with inadequately-suppressed desire. It was essential, however, that the maiden seem to be completely unaware of this effect, while remaining just barely out of reach. This could require considerable finesse at times, which was why practice was so important. Innocent perfection never came naturally; it had to be acquired by hard labor.

The Sorceress had almost completed the lovely coverlet, and the Heaven Cent was almost ready for use, when they had another visitor. This was a handsome yet sinister man, compact and middle-aged, with a slightly crooked smile. “Oh, darning needles!” the Sorceress muttered as she spied him approaching. Evidently she recognized him.

Electra wanted to ask what was wrong with the man, but he was already upon them. "A greeting, Sorceress Tapis,”  he said gravely, evincing nuances of excellent breeding.

“What in tarnation do you want with me, Murphy?” the Sorceress inquired politely, though mere was a hint that she was not pleased with this visit.

“Please, please, let us be properly introduced before we proceed to business,” the man said expansively. “I see that you have here a bevy of truly lovely maidens.”

Princess, maid, and Electra essayed two and a half fetching blushes. Electra's was the half; she had not yet perfected this art. But the Sorceress frowned. "If we must. Murphy, these are the Princess, Millie the maid, and Electra, all having business with me. Girls, this is Magician Murphy, whose talent is making things go wrong.”

The Princess paled, Millie screamed in a somewhat unfetching manner, and Electra backed away. Maidenliness was forgotten in the face of this threat. They had all heard of the Evil Magician Murphy, the scourge of order; wherever he went, disasters developed from nothing. No wonder the Sorceress was displeased!

“Ah, I perceive that my reputation precedes me,” the Magician said. "Have no concern, gentle ladies; I have no business with you. I have merely come to broach a matter to me Sorceress.”

“I'm not interested!” the Sorceress snapped, her smile for once forgotten.

"Ah, but you should be. Shall we talk privately?**

“No.” Electra had never heard the Sorceress so curt.

“Then I shall broach it now,” the Magician said, just as if he had received the most gracious of responses. "I have come to solicit your support, Tapis.'*

“You shall not have it!”

“Ah, but hear me out, grand lady. You see, I wish to assume the throne of Xanth. However, there is an impediment.”

“King Roogna,” the Sorceress agreed curtly.

“The same; how perceptive of you. Since there are only four Magician-class persons extant, each one is important in a case like this. It is evident that the Zombie Master will not take sides; he is nonpolitical. King Roogna and I are on opposite sides. That leaves only you, Sorceress Tapis. Your support would significantly enhance my endeavor. How may I obtain it?”

“You can't. Now that is settled, please go far and quickly away.”

“I am prepared to be appropriately generous. Would you care to name your price?”

“I have no price. I don't want you as king. Roogna was selected, and unless some grief comes to him, he is the legitimate monarch, and I support him. Certainly I will not act to undermine him.”

“Suppose I were to marry you? That would provide you unprecedented status without responsibility.”

The Sorceress choked and went into a coughing fit. When she recovered, she wheezed: “Taunt me no more, Murphy. I am an old woman, of your mother's generation, soon to die. I have no interest in being Queen, and less in marrying you. Kindly desist embarrassing these maidens with your presence. The answer is no, no, nine hundred times no, forever no, and if you persist in this insanity I may have to become negative.”

Murphy frowned, and that frightened Electra. The man was too certain of his power; his slightest malice carried horrific implication. “I trust you realize that if you are not for me, I must assume that you are against me,” he stated flatly.

“I would really prefer not to be involved with you at all!” the Sorceress said. “Nor to have these gentle maidens corrupted by your presence. But if I must choose sides, then I am against you. Now, I beg of you with understated loathing, will you please go away?”

The Magician sighed with apparently genuine regret. “I shall in that case do so. But I must leave with you the curse of my nature. I had hoped it would not come to this. Are you certain you will not reconsider?”

The Sorceress looked stricken, but her words were firm. “I am certain, Magician,” she wheezed.

Without further word, Magician Murphy turned and departed. The three girls breathed sighs of relief.

“The siege has just begun,” the Sorceress said. “That man has laid his curse on us, and we shall surely rue it.”

“But things go wrong all the time,” the Princess protested. “You just have to be careful, and fix them when that isn't enough. We are forewarned.” Electra and Millie nodded agreement.

“I see you do not yet understand,” the Sorceress said heavily. "Then listen, my young friends, and harken to my warning, for I know whereof I speak. That man is a Magician, and his power is insidious; only another Magician could hope to oppose it, and I am too old and frail. Even in my more vigorous years I was never truly his match; that is one reason I never married. Murphy solicited a tapestry from me, to forward his evil cause, and I refused, and then there came a fluke circumstance that caused my betrothed to desert me for another woman. Then I made for Murphy a tapestry that opened onto an inferno, and sent it to him; had he used it he would have died. Thereafter he left me alone, respecting my power. But in the decades since his power has waxed while mine has waned, and my art can no longer threaten him. This we both of us know. Now he has chosen to eliminate me, so that I can not help King Roogna. Surely I am lost, but I shall do what I can to protect the three of you from this disaster.”

She looked at Millie the maid. “My dear, you have been a good and loyal assistant, and you have fine qualities of domestic service. I shall write for you a fine recommendation so that you may obtain excellent other employment. I suggest you seek to take service with King Roogna, who is a good man and a fine Magician; he is unmarried, and his new castle will have serious need of care. Go now, this day, so that you may escape the environs of this curse.”

“But Tapis—” Millie protested.

“And take with you the tapestry hanging in your room; I always intended for it to be yours. It will help you to depart without hindrance, and to travel hereafter. You have but to reach back into it after you step through it, and pull it through after you. Thereafter you will have to carry it by hand to a new location, so that you can use it again, but you know how to do this. My blessing on you, girl; you are beautiful inside and out, and will surely make some good man deliriously happy, if this misfortune does not touch you. Farewell; time is of the essence, as the curse coalesces.”

Millie, dismayed, turned and walked slowly toward the house.

“And you, Princess,” the Sorceress said. “I regret giving you an incomplete coverlet, but believe me, it is now necessary. You must undertake your sleep this very hour, if you are to escape; already the evil magic is coalescing. By the time you wake it will be long dissipated, so you will not suffer from it. Let us go to your coffin and be about this business.”

“As you wish, Tapis,” the Princess agreed, shaken.

They walked slowly toward the house. “And you, Electra,” the Sorceress continued, “I regret I can not dispense with your service this moment; you will have to help me set the lid on the coffin, so as to protect the Princess. Then I will take the Heaven Cent and use it, for it is almost complete, and you may depart forthwith. The tapestry in your cottage is yours; use it and take it with you, and never return to this cursed site.”

Electra did not reply; she was too busy crying. How awful to have this wonderful existence so abruptly terminated!

They fetched the incomplete coverlet, and went to the chamber where the Princess' coffin rested. This chamber was of stone, strongly constructed, spelled to be resistant to all manner of calamities, for it had to endure for a thousand years. The coffin itself would sink right out of Xanth and into Mundania after it was sealed, so that no magic could touch it prematurely. The Princess had explained it all: there was a package of precise magic associated with the coffin. It guaranteed that her body would be preserved exactly as it was, so that she would age not a single whit, and no wrinkles would form, and all her dreams would be sweet. Only a young, handsome, unmarried Prince could find and open the coffin, and only his kiss could wake her. This would occur within a thousand years; it had to, or the spell would expire. That was the one nervous aspect: if something happened to the Prince, she would fade away, for the magic could not protect her entirely from the leaching of vitality. But the Prince would come; the spell would see to it. She would wake instantly, all her faculties complete. Then she would marry the Prince and live happily ever after.

“But suppose the Prince doesn't want to marry you?” Electra had inquired from childish curiosity.

“That is unthinkable!” the Princess had exclaimed. “He has to marry me, because that is the nature of the magic. Should he even think about being the smallest bit reluctant (as is known to occur with some men, unfortunately), I will charm him with all the virtues I have so diligently mastered. I shall clap my hands and bounce my torso, and fling my hair about, and he will soon answer to my will, for that is the magic of these things. We shall be married with suitable pomp and ceremony, and then we shall consider summoning the stork, for palaces are fine places for children to play.”

“But what if you do all these things, and he still doesn't marry you?” Electra persisted. She, as a child, had few of the assets of the Princess, and fewer of those of Millie the maid. Her hair was barely long enough to fling properly, and was neither the golden hue of Millie's nor the quality dark chocolate of the Princess. She could not bounce in the right way no matter how hard she jumped up and down. Her scream was too piercing, hardly the dulcet little cry of the others. She was afraid that if she tried these arts on a real man, he would laugh. That prospect bothered her, so she sought ways to capture a man that did not depend entirely on physical endowments. This was a foolish quest, she knew, for men had no other interests, but still she hoped. If she could somehow manage to find a man who liked a lively girl, or a smart one, or who needed her talent—well, there was at least a remote chance, wasn't there?

The Princess grew serious. “I must marry him, for if I do not, I will die,” she said. “The apple I bite is poison. Its first effect is to put me into a deep sleep, so deep I do not even breathe. But after I wake, that apple remains in me, and it can only be abolished by true love and marriage. So I will love the Prince who wakes me, instantly and completely, and that will suppress the poison, for love is greater than death when it is new and strong. But if he does not love me back, and does not marry me, my heart will break, and it will bleed, and I will slowly weaken and die, and it will be a most distressing tragedy. I mean, what is the point of sleeping a thousand years, if you don't marry a Prince?”

Electra had to agree that this was persuasive. And surely the Prince would love the Princess, for she was very attractive and knew exactly what she wanted.

But as they put the coverlet in the coffin, to the side so the Princess could draw it over her when she entered, there was a shudder. A stiff gust of wind was catching at the house.

Electra hurried out of the chamber and looked out a window. There over the sea was a monstrous whirling cloud whose bottom stretched down in a tightening tube to suck up water. Usually such clouds drank briefly and then drew their tubes back into themselves, their thirst sated, but sometimes they were hungry and came ashore for some sand. This one, by freak luck, was headed right for the house!

She dashed back into the chamber. “A funnel cloud is coming!” she cried.