Part 35 (2/2)
The appointment with the king was made Edsel and Pia skipped ahead to that, They didn't seem to be able to return to any prior scenes, so learned to be cautious about fast-forwarding. But so far there was no indication of any trouble. No one questioned the ident.i.ty of the time travelers, and they were making no waves.
But Edsel was uneasy. He knew that sometimes the simplest things could go drastically wrong. In this case, the wrongness could be extremely subtle and extremely unfortunate. He refused to be lulled into complacency.
That afternoon, in the past, Robota got to meet Aeolus the Storm King. He was an old man, feeble, and surely not much longer for kings.h.i.+p.
”I am Silica, of the Mineral Elves,” Robota said, flas.h.i.+ng her most winning smile. She was getting it down well, it almost lighted the room.
”And who are you?” Aeolus asked Grey.
”I am Grey, with the talent of minor prophecy. I am helping Silica find her way through the human kingdom.”
Justin nodded when Edsel reported that. ”Xanth elves a.s.sociate with particular elm trees, and their strength is inversely proportional to their distance from their home trees,” he said. ”They are super-strong near their own elf elms, but very weak when they are too far from them. An elf maiden would need help in the human domain.”
”The King is inquiring their business with him.” Pia reported.
Edsel tuned back in. Robota was answering. ”I am studying weather, as it affects our activities. Please demonstrate a storm for me.”
The Storm King's answer was gruff. ”No.”
”But I need to observe weather magic, so I can understand it.”
”My talent is not a parlor game,” Aeolus said. ”I invoke it only when there is legitimate need.”
Robota argued, but the King would not budge. ”The truth is that his talent faded with age,” Justin said. ”He seldom invoked it toward the end.”
”Did you tell them that?” Edsel asked.
”Oh, yes. they know,” Tristan said. ”But the King still has some power, and she can a.n.a.lyze its nature when he uses it. Then my master will be able to duplicate it with full power. So they will do their utmost to get him to demonstrate it.”
”Get on it,” Pia said, her eyes closed. ”This is getting heavy.”
Edsel closed his yes. ”A wiggle swarm to the south?” the King was asking incredulously. ”There hasn't been one of those for decades.”
”Nevertheless, I see one coming,” Grey insisted. ”You could destroy it with a solid storm.”
”Why should I believe the word of a stranger?” Aeolus asked.
Grey spread his hands. ”I can't prove that my prophecies are correct until they come true. But in the past they have been reasonably accurate.”
”Well, if a wiggle swarm comes, we'll see about it,” the King decided. ”I'm not at all sure a storm will blow wiggles away; they can drill right through stone.”
Edsel reported that, doing ongoing narrative as he listened: he was getting better at it. Pia corrected him on details, as she saw the same scene through Robota's eyes and ears.
”That king may be old, but he's not stupid,” Breanna remarked.
Then Grey found a prophecy that made an impression. ”I see Evil Magician Trent returning with an army to conquer Xanth.”
”Oops,” Breanna said. ”If he warns the Storm King, won't the King stop the invasion, and Trent will never conquer Xanth. and all history be changed?”
”Not so,” Justin said. ”Trent didn't take Xanth by force. Aeolus died, and they gave Trent the crown.”
”Oh.” Breanna said ruefully ”I keep forgetting that you lived Xanth history. You were there.”
”And you are here now,” Justin said. ”You were well worth waiting for.”
The Black Wave girl tried her best to blush, with imperfect success.
The Storm King seemed much more alert to this threat than the one from the wiggles. He walked to the wall where a magic mirror hung. ”The border.” he said.
A picture formed in the mirror. It showed a group of men out beyond a s.h.i.+mmering border. They were setting up cages on the other side of that s.h.i.+mmer, which Edsel realized was the deadly magic s.h.i.+eld that prevented anyone from crossing, before Trent took power and shut it down.
”There is something happening out there,” Aeolus said. ”I had better prepare.”
”So will you demonstrate your talent?” Robota asked, favoring him with her most winning smile, and a rather nice flash of elfin bosom.
Old and feeble as the King was, he was not completely immune to the wiles of lovely women. ”Yes. Wait here.”
The King departed the chamber, through a door that opened magically to let him pa.s.s. Immediately Robota tried to follow, but the door balked her. Then Grey touched it, nullifying its magic, and they went through.
Aeolus was opening a magic strongbox. He reached inside to lift something out. but his hands came up empty. Yet there was a faint sparkle.
The King straightened up and turned-and saw Grey and Robota standing there. ”You saw!” he said, chagrined. ”What did they see?” Edsel asked, mystified. ”We don't know,” Tristan said. ”This is new to my master.” Then Grey caught on. ”Your soul is in that box!” he said. ”But why?” Robota asked.
The king looked frightened but canny. ”I will tell you. if you will promise not to tell anyone else.”
”Not within fifty years,” Grey promised, and Robota agreed. He was aware that the information was being transmitted fifty-seven years to the future Also, spreading a truly significant secret might change Xanth history, and they couldn't afford that.
”That's good enough.” Aeolus took a deep breath. He was standing up straighter, and looked better, now that he had his soul with him. ”This is a soular cell, made by Magician Yin/Yang centuries ago. It prevents aging and death for the person who stores his soul inside. I don't need to have my soul with me all the time, so I store it here so I won't die.”
”But you're already pretty old,” Robota said.
”Yes. I got this box only a year ago. and it can't undo the age I suffered before then. But I can remain my present age for a long time. Unfortunately, my talent remains with my soul, so when I need to invoke it. I must recover my soul for the occasion.”
”So you're not really senile,” Grey said. ”Just soulless.”
”That is correct. I pretend senility in order to avoid onerous tasks.”
”Well, demonstrate your talent, and we will depart and never see you again,” Robota said.
”Will a small storm do?”
”Certainly.” She smiled engagingly.
Aeolus concentrated on the center of the room. In a moment a cloud formed. It thickened and swirled. Then a little bolt of lightning shot out, and there was a crack of thunder. A small rain shower followed.
”Wonderful!” Robota exclaimed, clapping her little hands. ”Great demonstration.”
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