Part 12 (1/2)
It settled down, rocked a few times, and tucked its head under one wing. Now it most resembled a boulder, twelve feet high.
”It's a roc,” Edsel said, catching on. ”I summoned a roc!”
”A pet roc,” she agreed, recovering.
”A pet rock!” he exclaimed, laughing.
Then she caught the pun too. ”I should have known that's the kind of bird you'd summon.”
Still, it was dauntingly big. ”What say we just let it be,” he suggested, slowly standing and backing off.
”Agreed.”
They sidled away. The pet roc remained bird-napping. Apparently his talent had summoned it, but did not require that it remain with him. Once they were well clear of the big bird, he tried again, this time specifying a small bird. Nothing happened. His talent had fizzled.
”Let me try it,” Pia said, taking the teller from his hand. ”What's my talent?”
”Making things thicker or thinner.”
She glanced at a nearby tree. ”Thinner,” she said, touching the trunk with one finger.
The tree shook, and shrank. Suddenly it was half the thickness it had been.
She went to another tree. ”Thicker.” Nothing happened.
”We seem to be blessed with one shot talents,” Edsel said. ”They change each time we use them. Fortunately we have the teller, so we don't have to guess what the next one is.”
”That's the way it was on the island,” she said. ”But we haven't been jumping.”
”I guess the rule is different, off the island. But I don't like this. We can't ever be sure of our talents. If we didn't have the teller, we'd be mostly confused.”
”I'm mostly confused already,” she said, but she made a quick smile.
Edsel pondered. ”Give me the teller. I want to see what I have, and maybe keep it until I need it.”
She handed him the teller, but then changed her mind. ”Let me try it first. I don't summon dangerous birds.”
”That's just the luck of the draw. Anyway, it is what it is; I just need to find out.”
”No, I want to find out.”
They were both tugging on the teller. ”Okay,” he said, compromising ”Let's both ask. One, two three.”
”What's my talent9” they asked together. ”Making a wish come true,” the teller said. ”But that's only one talent,” Pia said. ”Mine or his?” There was no answer. The teller was good at that. ”This is simple to resolve,” Edsel said. ”We can each make a wish, and see which one is granted.”
”Do we have to wish out loud?”
”I don't know. Let's try silent, and if that doesn't work, we'll try aloud.”
They each concentrated.
Edsel's Lemon motorcycle appeared, parked before him. He had gotten his wis.h.!.+
He turned to Pia-and paused. She had changed. Her clothing had become ill-fitting, but she looked much better than she had.
She turned and saw him looking. ”I wished for my sixteen year old figure back,” she said, adjusting her apparel.
They had both gotten their wishes. Belatedly, he realized what that meant, ”You could have wished we'd find our Companions.”
Her eye caught the Lemon. ”And you could have wished for something useful.”
”I did wish for something useful! We can ride the bike instead of walking.”
”On what highway?”
He studied the landscape with new misgiving. It was b.u.mpy and clogged with brush. They could walk through it, but the motorcycle would be constantly balked. ”Maybe there's a clearer area ahead,” he said lamely.
”And maybe a gas station?”
Fuel! How would he fill the tank? He hadn't been thinking sensibly at all. Still, Pia had wasted her wish too. He was about to say something cutting, but looked again at her figure, and stifled it. She was stunning.
”Maybe something will turn up,” he said. He went to the Lemon, checked it, and found it complete. He got on it and cranked on the motor. It roared into life. But he had nowhere to go. This wasn't an off-trail bike, and in any event, this terrain wasn't for any wheeled vehicle.
He killed the motor and got off. But he couldn't just leave the Lemon there. So he took it by the handlebars and pushed it forward, it was heavy, but he could handle it, and the rolling weight wasn't bad on approximately level ground.
”So have we used up our talents?” Pia asked.
”Must have.” He took the teller. ”What's my talent?”
”Bringing statues to life.”
”But there's no statue here.”
There was as usual no answer. ”Maybe you can make one,” Pia suggested. ”The way I drew my picture.”
Good idea He parked the bike, took out his pen knife lifted a stick, and carved it into a crude man form ”Come to life ” he said.
The form moved. But it couldn't say anything, because he hadn't carved a mouth He had wasted another talent.
”My turn,” Pia said taking the teller from his hand ”What's my talent?”
”Glaring daggers ”
”It's got you pegged!” Edsel exclaimed.
She glared. A dagger shot from her eye and just missed his ear. He ducked, alarmed, and the other daggers missed by greater margins. d.a.m.n the literal nature of Xanth.
He grabbed the teller ”What's my talent?” ”Controlling the emotions of others ” ”Make Pia happy!” he cried.
”You fool,” she laughed happily ”You just wasted another talent you should have saved for a mean monster ”