Faun And Games Part 19

"Is it because it relates to your talent?"

"I can't say."

"If it doesn't relate to your talent, you ought to know. So it must relate to powerful music."

"Why, I suppose so," the figure said, surprised. Forrest saw that Crescendo had not been able to think of that himself, but could see it now that it had been suggested by an outside party.

"Can you play music?"

"I don't know."

Contrary looked at Forrest. "May I borrow your panpipes?"

Forrest hesitated, but realized that it would not be fair to interfere.

He dug out his panpipes and handed them over. As he did so, a piece of paper fluttered away in the breeze; it must have been stuck to the panpipes. Contrary in turn handed the pipes to Crescendo. "Play this."

The pipes began to play beautiful panpipe music. But Crescendo wasn't playing them; he was just holding them. They were playing themselves.

Contrary took the pipes back and returned them to Forrest. Then he picked up a stone. "Play this."

Crescendo took the stone, and it immediately played rock music. Contrary gave him a cup of water, and it made water music. He gave him a handful of air, and it made air music. Crescendo's talent was coming clear.

"You have the talent of touching anything and making it make music," Contrary said. "That's must be close to Magician level, considering the beauty and power of the music."

"Yes!" Crescendo exclaimed, and suddenly the very ground around him was playing earth music. "That's it! Oh, thank you! What can I do for you in return for enabling me to become halfway real?"

The centaur considered, but Imbri intervened. "He has done you a service already, by giving you a point."

"Oh, yeah," Contrary agreed, remembering. "Depart, Crescendo; you are free."

The man needed no further urging. He took off at a run for wherever his territory was. Forrest realized that the geography/time effect must be suspended for the limbo folk, until they took their places where they belonged. Bit by bit, he was learning the devious ways of the Idea planet.

But now it was his turn. Contrary walked among the statues, and stopped by one that looked much like the last. "This," he told Forrest.

Imbri turned the minute gla.s.s over, and the sand started sifting.

Forrest addressed the figure. "Who are you, and what is your lineage?"

It was best to be efficient, so as to conserve time for more questions.

"I am Revy, son of Magician Grey and Sorceress Ivy."

Another Magician, then! Powerful magic should be easier to guess, as it was more comprehensive. Still, this wasn't easy. So he borrowed a device the centaur had employed. "Does your name suggest your talent?"

"I can't answer that."

He was getting warm. What could "Revy" mean? Revered? That didn't seem quite like a talent. Revelry? Again, it didn't seem apt. Reverse?

Aha! "Could your talent be to reverse things?"

"It could."

That helped. "Can you make hot things cold?"

"No." Interesting; a talent couldn't be confirmed, but it could be denied if wrong. No-it could be confirmed; the centaur had done so. It was just necessary to find the right thing to confirm.

"Can you reverse the flow of a river?"

"No."

Hm. This was trickier than antic.i.p.ated. Revy could probably reverse something, but not ordinary things. How could it be a Magician caliber talent, if it was so limited? Unless "Can you reverse magic itself?"

"Yes!" Revy exclaimed with happy realization. "My father can nullify magic, so I can reverse it. He prevents magic from happening; I can send it in the opposite direction."

"Good for you," Forrest said, well satisfied. "Go find your range."

"Thank you!" The man ran off.

"You're welcome," Forrest murmured. He hoped he was getting the hang of this.

But now he had to select another candidate for the centaur. What might be tough enough for Contrary to miss, but easy enough for Forrest to get? He wasn't sure. So he looked for something different-and found a demon child, The figure was male, with small horns, and looked about five years old. Of course apparent age didn't matter much, because of the time/geography factor. Still, this one might do. "This."

Contrary approached the child. "Who are you, and what is your derivation?"

"I am Demos, and I am the son of Prince Demon Vore and Princess Nada Naga, Xanth's most handsome couple. Also the brother of DeMonica, who had the undeserved fortune to make it to Xanth instead of me."

"So you are not a descendant of Bink," the centaur remarked.

"Of who?"

"Never mind. Demons generally don't have magic talents, other than their demonly qualities, and neither do the naga folk, because they can already s.h.i.+ft from full human to full serpent to their natural combination form. So you may not have an actual talent."

"Oh, but I do! I'm sure of it. I just don't know what it is."

"Curses," the centaur muttered. "Then it could be anything."

"Yes. I hope you can discover it."

The centaur considered, as the sand ran through the minute gla.s.s. "Could it relate to the changeability of your parents?"

"Yes."

"Ha! So you can change yourself.?"

"Oh, sure. To human or naga or serpent form, or any other, because of my half demon heritage."

"That doesn't count," Contrary muttered, disappointed. "A magic talent isn't quite that way. Can you affect other things with your magic?"

"I wouldn't know."

The centaur pondered again. Forrest saw the sand running low.

Unfortunately he couldn't figure this one out either. "Can you take magic away from things?"

"No."

"Then can you give magic to things?"

"Yes."

That meant he was suddenly very close. The centaur oriented on it with greater precision than he had shown thus far. "Can you make a non-magic object in some way magic?"

"Yes."

"Like, for example, a candlestick: could you imbue it with the power to burn without using up its wax?"

"Yes! That's it! I can do that."

Contrary looked surprised, then relieved. Forrest realized that he had been guessing more desperately than was apparent, and had been lucky.

But now it was Forrest's turn to guess. The centaur walked among the statues, and selected a boy with a fish's tail. "This."

Then there was a sound overhead. They all looked up. "Oh no!"

Imbri exclaimed. "The dragons are back."

"Dragons?" Contrary asked. "Who stirred them up?"

"I think we did," Forrest said. "When we were headed for ogre country."

"Well, get rid of them, then."

Forrest thought of something. "Imbri, can you diffuse to dream form and plant a thought in their minds?"

"Yes. But what thought would distract them from us?"

"Maybe if you gave them something else to chase, like a wild goose.

Dragons like to eat geese."

"Because they don't like getting goosed," she agreed. "So they try to eat the geese first. It's a personal thing. I'll see what I can do."

She expanded, fading into mist as her density decreased.

The dragons had been drawing up their formation, about to go into strafing mode. Suddenly they hesitated. Then they winged rapidly away.

Imbri had given them a dream of wild geese on the wing.

Soon Imbri reappeared, condensing into her small human form.

"That should hold them a while. But we had better not dally, because I won't be able to distract them that way again."

Forrest approached the figure Contrary had designated, as Imbri set the minute gla.s.s again. "Who are you, and what is your derivation?"

"I am Nigel, son of Prince Naldo Naga and Mela Merwoman."

"I don't know of your parents. What are their qualities?"

"My father is a prince of the naga folk, who are a serpent/human crossbreed whose natural form is a serpent with a human head. My mother is a human/fish crossbreed, like a mermaid only better developed in front, and able to turn her tail into legs so she can walk on land.

There was some notoriety when she was advised to put on clothing, so she went to a pantree and harvested a panty, and freaked out every male she encountered."

"Oh, that one. News of her did penetrate my corner of the forest. So does your talent relate to either of your parents' natural abilities, such as changing from human to serpent or fish form?"

"No."

"Is it a minor talent, of the spot on the wall variety?"

'No."

Forrest was getting the hang of this. The folk of limbo knew what their talents weren't, so it was the fast way to zero in on what they were.

"Is it a major talent, Magician cla.s.s?"

'No."

"Then it must be a significant talent, neither major nor minor."

"I wouldn't know."

Uh-huh. "Does it relate to yourself?"

"No."

"Does it relate to objects?"

'No."

"Does it relate to other people?"

"I wouldn't know."

Forrest paused. "Does it relate to anything other than other people?"

"No.

He was definitely developing technique. But he saw the sand running low in the minute gla.s.s. He needed to identify the talent readily. "Does it affect other people?"