Part 17 (2/2)

A man stepped forward. He carried a cudgel that was shaped roughly like a volume, with visible pages. ”I will pulverize ignorance!” he declaimed, swinging the tome around. ”What do I have here?”

”Why, I believe that is a book club,” Latia said, and the audience number went to 2.

A third actor brought out a large bowl. In it was a ball that rolled around and around of its own accord. Cynthia tried to figure it out, but had no success, and neither did the others. ”A bowling ball,” the actor said. The 2 became a 1. They had lost a pun.

”I don't think that quite works,” Latia said. ”It is a ball in a bowl, but not bowling it over.”

”I agree,” Cynthia said.

Another actor stepped forward. She had a bell, but when she rang it, instead of ringing it went ”Mooo!”

”A cow bell!” Cynthia said, finally getting one.

The next actor was in the shape of a huge foot. It hopped up to another actor who was evidently feeling ill. ”Take two pills and call me in the morning,” the foot said.

”Fooz docthor!” Zilche said.

”A foot doctor,” the actor agreed, and the score went to 3.

Stage hands laid down a blue sheet with waves painted on it. Then an actor dived on it, as if thinking he would swim. Instead he bounced off the surface. ”What is this?” he asked, seemingly bewildered.

Cynthia had had enough. ”Please, I must search for the Ring,” she murmured.

”Hardz wazer!” Zilche said.

”Hard water,” Latia agreed. ”I must say, you are sharp at charades, Zilche.”

”Zank zhu.”

”This mission is important,” Cynthia said, moving toward the door.

Meanwhile, onstage, an actress donned a light coat. Then she started doing nasty little things to other actors.

”It must be something about the coat,” Latia said, mystified.

”Meenz Zpiritedz,” Zilche agreed, also struggling.

”It's a petticoat,” Cynthia called back as she left the room. ”It makes its wearer think petty thoughts and do petty things.” Then she trotted off, her absence surely not even noticed. She was glad to get away from those awful puns. Maybe it took a mind pickled by great age or zombyism to sit still for all that.

One side of the hall was the great gla.s.s wall; surely no Ring hidden there. The other side was lined with doors. She peeked into the next chamber. Curse fiends-curse friends, as they called themselves-were busily searching everywhere. Good enough.

She walked on, checking other chambers. All were busy, until she came to one that was empty. It was evidently a theater that was not currently in use; stage props were stacked everywhere. She saw five statues of men and women set in a circle facing inward. ”Circle of friends,” she murmured, then reacted. ”Horseflies! I'm still fathoming puns!”

Could the Ring be here? She saw no particular reason, as it could be anywhere in Gateway Castle. But it occurred to her that if she was destined to be the one to find and wield this Ring, then she would somehow be led to it. Perhaps there would be a psychic rapport.

She looked around, seeking rapport. Her eyes fell on a folded blanket. She picked it up, and saw that it was made from many little dots, each with four tiny hands that clasped the hands of other dots, forming an array that in its larger scope became the blanket.

”A dot matrix,” she murmured, and winced as she realized she had done it again. ”Founderhoofs! I've got to rid my brain of these puns so I can find the Ring!”

She closed her eyes and tried again. She tried to clear her mind of all punnish thoughts, focusing only on the Ring. And it seemed to work. The image of a circle formed, white and bright. Could she have found it?

She opened her eyes. There was the circle: a large ring of smooth white wood set on a box. Could that be it?

She walked to it-and caught the smell of manure. Suddenly she recognized the structure: It was one of the human refuse devices. A person would sit on it and deposit a clod of manure, then depart. Humans were exceedingly uptight about natural functions, and tried to conceal them whenever possible. Hence this unwieldy mechanism. When repeated uses filled the box, it would be emptied into a latrine pit. So this was just a stage prop, or, worse, a real toilet for stage hands to use. She had thought this could be the marvelous Ring of Water?

Disgusted, she searched elsewhere in the chamber. There were props galore, but no Rings. Obviously it wasn't here, or was so well hidden she could not find it. Maybe her notion about being somehow attuned to it was vain. Maybe she simply was not destined to be the user of this Ring. After all, she had more or less randomly come to Zilche, and a.s.sumed that she could locate the particular Ring the zombie knew about. That was a very tenuous connection.

Still, the Good Magician had given her a mission to perform, and this Ring was an essential part of that mission. If she was not to be the one to find it, then who else was?

”No one!” she exclaimed. ”This has to be my Ring to find.”

So where was it most likely to be? Apparently it was so well hidden that all the curse fiends could not find it. So it must be in the least likely place. What was that?

”The toilet,” she said with wry humor.

Then she paused, gazing at the human privy box. Wouldn't that be fitting!

She walked back to the box. She put her hand to the white wooden ring and picked it up. ”Ring of Water, I claim you,” she said.

There was a flus.h.i.+ng sound, and the Ring dissolved, becoming fluid. It was flowing away! But then it coalesced, forming a translucent Ring around her left little finger.

She had found it. Now what was she going to do with it?

There was just a tiny weak hint of maybe a doubt in her mind. Was this the Ring of Water-or was it merely an imitator? She needed to find out before she called off the search.

She took the Ring out to the hall and gazed through the thick gla.s.s. This was supposed to have power over all the water creatures. She would find out.

”If there is any big sea monster in range, come to me,” she said. But of course this was foolish, as she was in the castle and couldn't be heard beyond it. She would have to find a better test.

Then a shape loomed in the dark water of the whirlpool. It was a huge serpent! It spread itself against the gla.s.s, so as to avoid being sucked down into the vortex below. Its head swung around to gaze at Cynthia. The thing was enormous. Each eye was almost the size of Cynthia's head.

Embarra.s.sed, she reversed. ”Return to safe waters,” she said.

The serpent nodded, then slithered around and upward, escaping the deadly pull. Soon it was gone.

Cynthia turned to discover Latia there. ”So you found it,” the Crone said.

”So it seems. I wasn't sure, so-”

”Of course. I will call off the other searchers.”

”Thank you,” Cynthia said faintly.

”We haven't seen that monster in twenty years. I had feared it was dead.”

”Just busy elsewhere,” Cynthia said. ”I shouldn't have bothered it.” But Latia was already turning away. Out of sorts, Cynthia returned to the play chamber.

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