Part 10 (1/2)

”Yes. Static electricity?”

”Must be.” Then she moved off to the bushes to handle her business, while he hauled the boat the rest of the way to the land.

There was a cl.u.s.ter of what looked like stalks of straw sticking out of the ground. Edsel had a notion, so he picked one and bit on the end. Sure enough; it was a strawberry. ”We have breakfast,” he announced.

”Good. I'm famished.”

He sat on the beach and chewed on the straw. He tried to conjure a solid illusion, but nothing happened. He tried again, and nothing happened again.

Alarmed, he called to Pia; ”How's your magic talent doing?”

”I haven't thought of it since yesterday, when all it showed me was a walk along a wooded sh.o.r.e.?” Then she paused. ”Oh, no! I just realized that it's this sh.o.r.e. I thought it looked familiar, but didn't place it before.”

”But that makes sense,” he said. ”You couldn't change that view- because it wasn't anything you were doing then that affected it. It was the spook in the night. If we'd said no to it, that would have changed our future.”

She emerged from the brush. ”That's right! Sometimes you remind me what I saw in you.”

His cleverness in figuring things out, at least if they resembled computer programming in any way. His mind worked in flow charts, this leading to that, that leading to the other, and the whole process leading to a feasible process of software. ”But I was a bit late figuring this one out.” he said ruefully.

”I feel better anyway,” she said, stopping to kiss him briefly. He liked that too; she had friendly little ways. Of course they didn't mean anything, they were just social manners.

”Have a straw,” he said, handing her one.

She tried it. ”Strawberry!” Then she looked as if she had just swallowed a pun. ”And I just walked into that one. I think I could almost get to like Xanth, if it weren't for the abysmal jokes.”

”They are more my speed.” he agreed. ”Not for decent folk. But about your talent: what do you see for tomorrow?”

She concentrated. ”Nothing. It's not working.”

”That's what I was afraid of. I think we've lost our talents.”

”Lost our-how could that happen?”

”I can't be sure, but my guess is that static electricity shock we got. Maybe this island steals talents.”

”That's crazy!”

”So is Xanth.”

She nodded. ”Point made.” She stretched-another gesture he liked. ”But I've got to rest. Why don't you keep a lookout for Justin and Breanna while I sleep. Then I'll stand watch while you sleep.”

”Okay.” The business of the talents bothered him, but he wanted to figure it out better before scaring her with his dark conjectures.

She spied a pillow bush, harvested several nice pillows, and set them on the beach. Then she lay down on them, closed her eyes, and slept. She could do that much more readily than he could; in fact he had trouble sleeping in daylight, even when he felt logy. As he did now.

He tried again to make a solid illusion, and failed again. It definitely wasn't working. So probably he was right this island stole talents. That was why it was deserted; regular Xanth folk would know better than to set foot on it.

He found a suitable tree, sat in the sand before it, and leaned back against the trunk, looking out across the water. Justin and Breanna would have to come by water or air, and either way, this was the best way to see them. At the moment the lake was quiet, and so was the sky. There was just one puffy cloud relaxing in the sunlight, evidently having nothing better to do at the moment.

Idly, he tried to figure out what the cloud resembled. A mushroom? A squashed bug? A human face? No, none of those; it was just a blob. A face would have eyes and mouth and ears. Eyes there and there, and ears to either side, and a bulbous nose. Yes, like that.

Edsel blinked. It had a face! But it hadn't been before. It had been largely shapeless.

Could it be? With sudden excitement, he focused on the cloud. Bug, he thought. With six legs, and wings, and antenna, and huge bug eyes.

Slowly the cloud s.h.i.+fted, sprouting legs. The ears became wings. Two antenna grew at one end. And the human eyes became bulging bug eyes.

He was doing it! But just to be sure, he tried another form. Something that couldn't be confused for natural. A geometric form. A triangle.

The edges of the cloud fuzzed. The outline changed. It became a triangle.

”I have a new talent,” he breathed. ”The island didn't steal my talent, it exchanged it.” He glanced at Pia, decorously asleep. ”And it must have exchanged hers too.”

Then he had a sober second thought. What good was shaping clouds? Sure, it could be fun, but it wouldn't feed him or get him un-lost. At least the solid illusions could have helped him scare off a monster. So he wasn't better off.

But maybe Pia had done better. He would have her look for her new talent, when she woke. Maybe it would be more useful than her original one had proved to be. One would have thought that seeing one day into the future would be phenomenally useful, but circ.u.mstances had nullified it. Maybe there was a lesson of life there, if he could figure it out.

Meanwhile, he pondered the likely rules of changes of talents. If the exchange happened when a person first touched the island, which seemed likely considering that slight shock they had felt, would it do it again if a person left the island and returned? That seemed likely, because the island couldn't be presumed to be intelligent. It just had this property of switching talents with whoever touched it.

And if the first time switched out his original talent, would a second time bring it back? Well, there was a way to find out.

Edsel got up and went to the boat. He pushed it into the water, then stepped carefully into it. He paddled it out a few strokes, then reversed and came back in. Was that far enough?

He brought it close, and stepped back onto the beach. And felt the shock. So he was right about that much.

He looked at the cloud, which was trying to drift out of range. He concentrated, trying to form it into a square. Nothing happened.

He tried to make a solid illusion. Nothing happened.

He pondered. So there had been an exchange, but not a reversion. So he must have a new talent, essentially random. He would have to figure it out.

So what could it be? He had lucked out the first time, idly watching the cloud. Now he had no idea. But maybe his contemplation of the cloud hadn't been completely random; maybe his new talent had guided him. Edsel wasn't much of a believer in lucky coincidences; usually there were reasons for things whose logic could be discovered by the right sort of search. This flowed to that, which flowed to the other. So maybe he should just let his mind drift, and he would come across it.

He sat down and leaned back against the tree. And the tree gave way.

He jumped up, startled. The tree had sunk a short distance into the ground. How could that be? It was solid; it hadn't done that before.

Unless his talent had done it.

Edsel pondered, then put his arms around the trunk and pushed down. The trunk sank lower.

That was it. He walked to a nearby boulder and put his hand on the top, pressing down. The stone sank.

Interesting, but what good was it? He was not a pile driver. And it couldn't be good for the tree. Could he reverse it?

He walked back to the tree, put his arms around it, and lifted. Nothing happened. So this was a one way talent.

”Sorry, tree,” he said. ”I didn't mean to do it. I didn't know my own strength.”

Then he walked to the boat, lifted one foot to step into it, and hesitated. Would he make it sink into the ground?