Air Apparent by Piers Anthony
“But you have to do something!”
“I think we should stay together until we figure out how to change back,” the Factor said. “Only then can we address our other problems.”
“I think you’re crazy,” Becka said. “But I’ll fly on to the Good Magician’s Castle and tell them you aren’t coming.”
“That seems to be best,” Hugo said with evident regret. “We’ll remain here for the time being.”
“That will help,” Becka said. “Because if you go randomly elsewhere, I won’t know where to find you.”
“Actually Debra can locate me,” the Factor said. “When I do my random magic. Or when he does it. I think.”
“On my way.” Becka changed back to dragon form, spread her wings, and took off. They were left behind.
“Meanwhile,” the Factor said grimly, “I think we had better educate each other about our respective talents. I’ll need to know how to use yours for food and defense, and you’ll need to know how to avoid doing something drastic with mine.”
“I’m afraid to use yours at all,” Hugo said.
“Aspects of it are relatively safe. You can do random form changes, and if you get tired of that, you can revert to your natural body. Just stay clear of the location exchanges or identity exchanges. Also, don’t use the talent unless you need to, because you can do it only a random number of times a day. You don’t want to run out at an awkward moment.”
“Awkward moment,” Hugo said. “Such as being about to get toasted by an unfriendly dragon.”
“Exactly.”
“How can we stay together if I exchange locations?” Hugo asked. “I don’t want to do it, but I want some way to make it halfway safe, just in case.”
The Factor pondered. “We must be closely linked, each having part of the other, whether body or mind. Maybe if we are in physical contact with each other when invoking an exchange, we’ll go together.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Let’s hope we do. Our problems are bad enough already.”
They discussed things further, while the Factor conjured more fruit for them to eat, and Hugo learned exactly how to invoke each aspect of the random talent. They were passing time, waiting for Becka to return with word from Wira and Debra.
Then there was a rustle. Both men looked. The Factor relaxed. “It’s only a birdlike lizard.”
“The bleep it is!” Hugo said. “I recognize it from the Good Magician’s pictures. That’s a cockatrice! Its gaze will turn us to stone.”
The cockatrice heard them talking. Slowly its head turned to orient on them.
“Take us away!” the Factor said, grabbing Hugo’s arm.
Hugo invoked the location exchange aspect. There was a wrenching as the Factor was carried along.
12
DREAMS
So that’s the situation,” Becka Dragongirl concluded. “Hugo doesn’t want to join you when he’s in the wrong body. He believes you wouldn’t understand.”
“I don’t care about his body,” Wira said. “It never was much anyway. I love him for himself.” But she knew as she spoke that this wasn’t strictly true; she was familiar with Hugo’s body, and would have trouble doing anything serious, such as signaling the stork, with a different body.
“It may not be just that. He has the Random Factor’s powers now, and hardly knows how to use them.”
“While Random conjures fruit,” Debra said wryly.
That was perhaps significant, Wira thought. Debra was calling the dread Random Factor by his first name.
“I can show you where they are,” Becka said. “Then I have to get home to my own family.”
“You can’t carry two,” Wira pointed out.
“I could become a winged centaur again,” Debra said. “If there’s another potion.”
“But if you still have the curse—”
“I’ll leave the bleeping bra behind. I just want to be with Random.”
“And as a centaur you don’t necessarily have to abide by the Adult Conspiracy,” Wira said. “Apart from the fact that you are now of age.”
Debra didn’t answer, but she blushed. That was answer enough.
“Then let’s go reassure them,” Wira said. “Maybe when the Good Magician completes the reorganization of the Book of Answers he’ll be able to find a solution to the problem of their exchange of identities. Meanwhile we can bring them here to the Castle.”
“And persuade them that we love them regardless,” Debra said.
The Gorgon located another potion, and Debra took it. This time she removed her clothing first, so as not to ruin it by her expansion. She shook herself. “Actually I rather like this form,” she said. “It’s talented, and it looks good.”
Wira suspected that it was the enlarged bosom she really liked, but didn’t comment. “You can flick me light and carry me,” she said. “I still can’t see well enough to trust myself out alone.”
Soon they were following Becka’s dragon, winging across the landscape. Wira was getting better at seeing it. Her vision was complete; the problem was that there was such a welter of things to see, coming at her all at once, that it could be an indecipherable jumble. She was trying to train herself to focus on one thing at a time, tuning out the rest. But it was tricky, because her eyes tended to track anything that moved, when that wasn’t what she wanted to see. Normally sighted folk had had their whole lifetimes to adjust, to refine their awareness; she was decades behind. Still, it was interesting as the blue of the sky and green of the forest cruised by.
What would Hugo look like? She was curious to see, even if it wasn’t him in his body. She would have to verify it by touching his face, of course, but in time she would surely get to know him visually as well as by sound and touch. Once they solved the problem of the bodies.
The dragon swooped down. Debra followed. They were arriving! Wira found herself holding her breath.
They landed in a pleasant enough glade. But it was empty.
The dragon sniffed the ground, then converted to girl form. “They were here,” she said. “I smelled their traces.”
“But why did they leave?” Wira asked, troubled.
Becka turned dragon and sniffed the ground more thoroughly. She changed back. “Now I know. There was a cockatrice. They had to flee it.”
“Can you sniff out their trail?” Wira asked.
“There is no trail. They must have transferred out, using the Factor’s magic. Evidently they went together.”
“But that’s purely random! They could be anywhere!”
“I’m sorry,” Becka said.
There was nothing to do except thank the dragongirl, and return to the GMC. Wira was quietly crying during the flight back, and she suspected Debra was too.
That night Wira remained troubled by the situation. She had been so close to getting Hugo back, then suddenly he was gone again. Even if she found him again, he would be in the wrong body. She still wasn’t sure how she would feel about hugging or kissing him in the other body, let alone summoning the stork with him. Intellectually she knew it was proper, if unusual, but emotionally there was a problem. Even if she had no prior visual image of him, she knew him very well by touch, and touching was what she had in mind.
And she didn’t even know where he was. If she could just find him—find them both, and bring them here to the castle—there was surely a spell or three that could help. Perhaps even a cure. So how could she find him?
A bulb flashed over her head. She stared at the afterglow, amazed. That was a bright-idea flash! She could see it now.
She focused on the idea. Physically the two men were lost, but the dream realm covered everything. She could dream of him and find him. Unless she found the wrong man, because of the identity exchange. But since both men shared the problem, she needed to dream of both; they should be together, wherever they were.
What about Debra? It was her problem too. But she had an answer for that too; her flashing bulb had illuminat
She got up and went to the Good Magician’s storage shelves. She closed her eyes and felt for the shared-dream spells; it remained easier to find things this way than to confuse the issue by using her untrained eyes. She took one down and held it in her hand. It was a dusty stoppered vial, stored for decades. She should have cleaned this shelf more often, but hadn’t wanted to risk knocking over anything, lest it break and splatter its magic on the floor.
She went to Debra’s room, which was actually a stall; it wasn’t feasible to keep changing forms back and forth, as they would run out of conversion spells. “Debra,” she murmured.
The answer was immediate. “Yes, Wira. Are you sleepless too?”
“Yes. But I have an idea.”
“I thought I saw a flash. I thought it was distant lightning. It must have been your idea bulb.”
“I have a potion to induce shared dreams. I’ll take it soon, and when I dream, others will be able to share it.”
“So we can search for the men in the dream realm!” Debra said. Her maturity had made her quick to catch on to things.
“Exactly. So when you do sleep, seek my dream, and we’ll seek the men together, and learn where they are.”
“I will!” Debra said gladly.
Wira returned to her room and lay down. She popped the cork on the vial. Greenish mist puffed out and formed a little cloud. She breathed the cloud, and sank immediately into sleep.
She found herself hovering above the castle, waiting for Debra. It was sometimes possible to fly without wings in dreams. Not that she needed to, as she could simply wish herself to wherever she wanted to go. But she didn’t want to go alone, as she remained uncertain of her sight. She had always had it in dreams, but this was different.
Debra appeared, flying up from the castle. “Ah, there you are,” she said. “Did you flick yourself light?”
“Couldn’t,” Wira said, smiling. “No tail.”
“Now how do we locate the men? Can we just think of them, and join them?”
“We can, or we can use your ability to orient when they randomly move. Which way did they go?”
“I forgot about that,” Debra said. She focused. “That direction.”
Wira joined her, and the centaur stroked powerfully in the direction she had indicated. Before long they came to a mountain village.
“That’s not on the map,” Wira said. “Curious. I believe it is Vily Village.”
“Aren’t the vily dangerous? We should make sure this is where we want to be.”
“True,” Wira agreed. “We can pause long enough to inquire.”
They landed in the valley beside the mountains, a fair distance from the village. There was a woman concentrating on the air before her. “Hello,” Wira said.
The woman jumped. “Oh! I didn’t see you. I thought I was dreaming.”
“You are. This is a communal dream. I am Wira, and this is Debra Centaur.”
“A communal dream. That’s new to me. I’m Alison; I’m trying to perfect my talent.”
“You seem to be focusing on empty air,” Debra said.
“Not exactly. My talent is to make a small or large force field in the air, permeable or tight, with different shapes, colors, or textures.” As she spoke a blue haze appeared in the air before her, coalescing into a black box. “Only what use is a black box? I want to make a sharp sword or something else that might defend me if a dragon threatens. But it’s hard to squeeze it that much.” The box flattened, but fell apart before it became a sword.
“Air is hard to control,” Wira said. “A force field must be even harder. I suspect you’ll just have to keep practicing.”
“But it’s a remarkable talent,” Debra said.
“Do you know anything about that village in the mountains?” Wira asked. “We think some friends of ours are there, and we’re concerned.”
“That’s Vily Village!” Alison said. “Don’t go there; the vily don’t like regular people.”
“So we understand. But if our friends are there, we need to rescue them.”
“I don’t know how you could do that, even in a dream. You’re more likely to get yourselves in trouble.”
“That is our concern,” Wira agreed. “Do you know anyone who might have good advice?”
“Well, there’s Carter, who once had a vila girlfriend, before she tried to destroy him, but he’s hard to pin down.”
“Why?”
“Because his talent is the ability to steer conversation any way he wants, to or from any subject. He won’t want to talk about the vily.”
Wira considered. “You’re probably right; he wouldn’t help us. Is there anyone else?”
“There’s Young, with the talent of redirection; he can bounce a talent directed at him to somewhere else, or to another person. He’s had some brushes with the vily.” Alison paused. “Oh—I just remembered he’s away visiting his cousin.”
Wira suppressed her annoyance. Potentially good contacts were proving to be elusive. “Anyone else?”
“There’s Cary. He’s had vily friends, on and off.”
“On and off?”
“That’s his talent. You can’t ever tell what he’s going to do. I don’t think he knows himself. It always turns out different.”
This was getting them nowhere. “Thank you,” Wira said.
“I’m glad to be of help,” Alison said, focusing again on her force field. She was evidently unconscious of any irony.
They walked on, so as not to make the dream seem too memorable for the woman they had talked to. “I don’t think dreaming people are as helpful as we had hoped,” Debra said.
“Yes. It was a bad idea. Let’s just brace the vila directly.”
“If I didn’t know how nice you are, I’d suspect you of being annoyed,” Debra murmured.
Wira had to laugh as they took flight again. “Point the way.”
Debra did, and they flew up to Vily Village. “This house,” Debra said. “They’re in here.” She landed beside it and transformed to her human form, which she could do on her own in the dream.
Wira knocked on the door. After two thirds of a moment it opened to reveal a ravishingly beautiful shapely attractive seductive sexy woman wearing a translucent negligee. Even Wira’s eyes heated, though more with envy than fascination. “Go away; I’m busy at the moment.” The door closed.
“We can’t go away,” Wira said. “This is our dream.” She put her hand on the latch and opened the door.
“Hey!” the woman exclaimed. “Who are you?”
“I am Wira, Hugo’s wife,” Wira said firmly. “This is Debra, the Random Factor’s beloved.”
“The child!” The woman gazed at Debra. “But you’re no child. You’re at least eighteen.”
“Correct,” Debra agreed. “Now who are you?”
“I am Venus Vila. He said he wanted to molest a child.”
“I did not,” Hugo’s voice called from the interior of the house. “I said I was in love with her.”
Wira was shocked. “In love with whom?” she demanded, pushing past the vila.
“No you don’t,” Venus snapped. She transformed into a manticora, with the body of a lion the size of a horse, the wings of a dragon, and the deadly multisegmented tail of a scorpion. “No woman intrudes on my demesnes without my permission.” Her voice sounded like a cross between a trumpet and a flute. She had a human face, but her mouth contained three rows of teeth. A fearsome monster indeed.
“In my dream I’ll intrude where I choose,” Wira said. Normally she preferred to be nice, but the idea of Hugo loving another woman, let alone a child, appalled her. She had already had her temper rubbed a bit raw. A ripe stink horn appeared in her hand. That was another thing about controlled dreams: she could shape some of the details as desired.
“Bleep,” the manticora swore, easing back. That species had sensitive smell, and there was hardly any stench worse that that of a ruptured stink horn.
Wira entered th
For there was Hugo, lying naked on the vila’s bed. The disturbed covers suggested that the vila had just vacated it to answer the door. “I can’t get up,” he said.
“You look as though you’re getting up well enough,” Wira snapped. “I ought to jam this stink horn where it counts.”
“That’s Wira!” a strange voice called. “My wife.”
Wira looked. There, tied to a tall board, was a strange man. “What are you talking about?”
Debra came up beside her. “That’s Random!”
Then Wira remembered. “They switched bodies.”
“Even in the dream,” Debra agreed. “So the one on the board is Hugo in Random’s body, and the one on the bed is Random in Hugo’s body.”
“What’s he doing naked in the vila’s bed, regardless?” Wira asked.
“I used a dream catcher from my closet,” Venus said. “They were trying to sneak off to some hussy’s communal dream, but I nabbed them on the way and bound them to bed and board.”
“That’s my dream!” Wira said. Now she saw that Hugo’s body was actually tied to the bed. He had spoken literally when he said he couldn’t get up.
“And now I’m seeing to it that this miscreant can’t seduce any more children,” Venus said. She had reverted to her human form. “Once I’m through with him, he’ll not seduce any female.”
“I’m not a child!” Debra exclaimed. “I’m eighteen.”
“You told me you were thirteen,” Hugo said from the bed.
“Well, I’m not. I was going to tell you, but you exchanged out.” Actually she had been thirteen then, but it did not matter now. She paused, glancing at the man on the bed. She winced. “Where are you, anyway, outside the dream?”
“Inside some anonymous empty beerbarrel tree where the demoness took me before; I remember it.”
“Some demoness?” Debra asked dangerously.
“Before I met you!” Hugo’s body cried. “I told you about that.”