Piers Anthony - Air Apparent

Air Apparent

Xanth Book 31

By Piers Anthony

W ira wasuneasy. Her husband Hugo had been absent half an hour, and it wasntlike him to stay away longer than he said. Especially not this night.

For tonight, after seventeenyears of marriage, Hugos father, Good Magician Humfrey, hadfinally removed the Spell of Hiding that kept the storks from beingaware of Wira no matter how ardently she summoned them. She wasfifty-five years old chronologically, thirty-three physically, andher thyme was starting to wilt. If they waited much longer, thestorks would never deliver to her, regardless of any spell. This timethe signal would go out. She knew that Hugo was eager to send thatsignal, and so was she.

Where was he? He had gone tothe cellar to fetch a celebratory bottle of Rhed Whine. That shouldhave taken no more than ten minutes, and he would hardly havedawdled. Something was wrong.

Wira got off the bed, donneda nightrobe and slippers, and made her way out of their chamber. Shepattered down the familiar stairs to the ground floor, and thence tothe cellar. She knew every crevice of the castle, of course, and madeno misstep.

But as she reached thecellar floor, she experienced a faint tinge of uneasiness. Her magictalent was Sensitivity, and though it normally applied to people,plants, and animals, it could sometimes attune to situations. Thissituation was uncomfortable.

"Hugo?" she calledtentatively.

There was no answer.

The tinge became less faint.In fact it intensified into a wary semblance of dread.

"Hugo, where are you?"she called less tentatively.

There was definitely anuntentative silence.

Something was wrong. Notonly was Hugo absent, there was something else in the cellar. Shesmelled its misty essence.

She snapped her fingers.Little magic echoes bounced off the cellar walls and floor, verifyingits dimensions. Except for a muffled place on the floor, the vagueshape of a man lying down.

Had Hugo fainted? But thiswasnt Hugo. The shape was vaguely wrong, and of course thesmell.

She squatted and reachedforward to touch it. Her fingers encountered a clammy kind of flesh.It was definitely not quite alive.

Wira screamed.

The Gorgon, HumfreysDesignated Wife of the Month, and coincidentally also Hugosmother, was the first to respond. "Wira, dear," she calledfrom the head of the cellar stairs. "Whats the matter?Are you hurt?"

"Oh, Mother Gorgon,theres a dead man here, and I think hes not quitehuman. And Hugo is gone."

There was half a pause."This bears investigation. Let me fetch a lamp."

Wira waited by the bodywhile the Gorgon got the lamp. Wira did not need light, of course, asshe was blind. She had always been that way, and really did not mindit as long as she was in familiar territory. But others had some kindof problem with darkness.

She heard the returningfootsteps, smelled the curling vapors of the lamp, and felt itsslight warmth. There was also the faint sibilance of a small nest ofsnakes. The Gorgon was back and ready to take charge.

Wira had always gotten alongwell with the Gorgon. That was partly because the Gorgons facetended to turn others to stone, but Wira could not see it, so was notat risk. That enabled them to be friends without precautions. TheGorgon was actually a very nice person, but strangers tended to beprejudiced by her magic face, and were nervous about her snake hair.The snakes were normally friendly, and could be good company on adull day.

"It is definitely abody," the Gorgon said. "Its not breathing and itscold, so it must be at least halfway dead. But who killed it, andwhat is it doing here?"

Wira had a horrible thought."Oh Mother Gorgon, you dont suppose Hugo couldhavehave"

"Of course not, dear.Hugo doesnt have a murderous bone in his body. Not even astiff one, as far as anyone knows. When are you two going to signalthe stork?"

"Tonight," Wirasaid, blushing. Sometimes the Gorgons language was a trifleserpentine. But she had reason: her sister the Siren was long since agrandmother. She seemed to have forgotten about the stork-hidingspell.

Now the Gorgon had a nastythought. "You dont suppose he could have gotten coldfeet, or whatever?"

"Never," Wira saidpositively. "He wanted toto do it. To be a father."

The Gorgon sighed. "Hesso young."

"Mother, hesforty-three."

"Exactly."

Wira didnt argue thecase. Technically she was a dozen years older than Hugo, but she hadbeen youthened to sweet sixteen to marry him, so seemed a decadeyounger. Mothers always thought their sons were too young. "Hewouldnt have left without word to me. Especially not tonight.Something must have happened to him."

The Gorgon was focusing onthe body. "I have another foul thought. Maybe somebody killedthis poor man, dumped the body here, and abducted Hugo to frame himfor the murder. That would explain everything."

"Except where Hugo is,and who the victim is, and who the real murderer is," Wiraagreed.

"Yes, there may be adetail or three to fill out. Wed better get Humfrey in on it."

"But itsnighttime," Wira protested. "He gets grumpy when disturbedat night."

"He gets grumpy anytime," the Gorgon said. "You dont see much of itbecause you have an ameliorative effect on him. I think if hedbeen half a century younger he would have married you himself."

"Mother Gorgon!"Wira exclaimed, horrified.

"Oh come on now, girl.You know hes taken with you."

"Because Im hisdaughter-in-law."

"That, too. Anyway, healready has about five wives too many; he certainly doesntneed any more. Now Im going to get him up, grumpy or not, andbring him down here to fathom the situation. It will give him anotherpretext to bury himself in the Book of Answers."

"Oh, I hope the Answeris there!" Wira breathed. "I miss Hugo so much!"

"Hes been goneonly half an hour, dear."

"Yes, and itsawful."

The Gorgon gazed at her.Wira could tell when someone was looking at her; there was a certainsubtle mood. "You really do love him, dont you, dear."

"Yes!"

"And that is why I amtaken with you, Wira. Without you hes pretty much arotten-fruited gnome."

"He is not!"

"Of course not, dear,"the Gorgon agreed, smiling knowingly. Wira could also tell when aperson was smiling; it curled up the corners of the voice. Then theGorgon went off to roust out the Good Magician.

Wira remained in the cellar,uncertain what else to do. She knew the Gorgon meant well, but thewoman sometimes unnerved her. Meanwhile, there was this awfulsituation to deal with. Could someone really have tried to frame Hugofor the murder? To make it seem that he had committed a terriblecrime, and fled the scene? But how could such a thing have been donehere, in the Good Magicians Castle? The castle was enchantedto exclude all but the most powerful magic.

Yet something of the sorthad happened. That was frightening in itself.

She checked the shelvesalong the cellar wall, just in case there was some indication thatwould help resolve the mystery. She knew the stored potions by theshapes of their bottles and faint odors. The first shelf held bottlesof pills from pharm-assist plants that a pill pusher had harvestedfor the Good Magician long ago. The pills lent certain temporarytalents to those who swallowed them. There were gra-pills thatenabled folk to wrestle well, purr-pills that caused folk to turnreddish blue while feeling very satisfied, and ap-pills that keptdoctors away. Also princi-pills for those lacking in ethics,sim-pills for those with too much intellect, and pill-fur coats forthose who didnt mind stealing clothing. All was in order,undisturbed.

The next shelf containedassorted gloves or mitts reserved for particular Challenges: anamity, which made a person very friendly; an enmity, which had theopposite effect; a hermit, which was a solitary ladys glove;an imitate that enabled a person to copy things; a comity that madethe wearer courteous; an emit that caused a stink; an omit thatsomehow had been left off the list; a submit that could be usedunderwater; a permit that allowed almost anything; and an admit thatadded a glove and also let a person into the castle. At the end ofthe shelf was a vomit that she knew better than to touch. None hadbeen disturbed. The problem seemed to be confined to the (ugh) body.