Piers Anthony - Adept 2 - Blue Adept

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2024-12-03 0 0 744.63KB 377 页 5.9玖币

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hollow horn, sounding like a mellow saxophone. The notes floated across

the field ahead of him.

Stile walked to a parapet and looked down. He was an extremely

small but fit man, a former jockey who remained in shape. He was dressed

in a blue shirt and blue jeans, though there were those who felt that neither

became his station. His station was such, however, that he could ignore it

with impunity-to a degree.

"Clip!" he exclaimed, recognizing the visitor. "Hey, Neysa-your

brother's here!"

But Neysa already knew it. Her hearing was better than his. She

trotted out of the castle and met Clip at the front gate, crossing horns briefly

in greeting. Then the two went into their more extended ritual of reunion,

prancing out side by side in unison as they played a duet. Neysa's horn had

the sound of a harmonica, and it blended beautifully with the music of the

saxophone.

Stile watched and listened, entranced, and not by magic. He had

always been fond of horses, and he liked unicorns even better. He was of

course biased; Neysa was his best friend in this frame. Still --

The two equines intensified the beat, their hooves striking the turf

precisely. Now they went into the syncopation of the five-beat gait, the

Unicorn Strut, their music matching it. Stile, unable to resist, brought out his

pretty woman. Stile hurried down to meet them in the courtyard.

"A greeting. Adept, and a message from the Herd Stallion," Clip

said. He was holding hands with his sister, somewhat to her mute

embarrassment; he was more expressive than she. Both wore the garb of

archaic Earth as interpreted by nonhuman viewpoint, more or less

matching their natural equine colors.

"Thy greeting is welcome. Clip," Stile said. "And thy message too,

be it in peace."

"It is. Adept. The Stallion is pleased to summon Neysa the Mare

this season to be bred." He paused, then appended his own remark: "At

long last."

"That's great!" Stile exclaimed. "After three seasons denied, she

will finally get her foal!"

Then he saw that Neysa was not reacting with the delight expected.

Stile looked at her with concern. "Dost this not please thee, oath-friend? I

thought it was thy fondest ambition to -- "

Clip, too, was glancing at her with perplexity. "Sibling, methought I

bore great tidings."

Neysa averted her gaze. She was a well-formed girl an inch or so

shorter than Stile-a stature that appealed to him though he knew this was

foolish. She was the smallest of mares, barely fourteen hands; any shorter

humor that manifested subtly on occasion.

Clip and Stile exchanged glances. What did this mean? "Would a

female know?" Clip asked.

Stile nodded. "One would." He raised his voice only slightly. "Lady."

In a moment the Lady Blue appeared. She was, as always, garbed

in variants of blue: blue corduroy skirt, pale blue blouse, dark blue slippers

and star-blue tiara. And, as always, her beauty struck Stile with special

force. "Master," she murmured.

Stile wished she wouldn't do that. In no way was he her master,

and she knew that well. But he was unable to take effective issue with the

conventions of this frame-or with the half-subtle reminders she gave him.

She considered him to be an imposter in the Blue Demesnes, a necessary

evil. She had cause.

"Lady," he said, maintaining the formality she required of him. "Our

friend Neysa is summoned to be bred by the Herd Stallion, and have her

foal at last-yet she seems not pleased. Canst thou fathom this, and wilt

thou enlighten us males?"

The Lady Blue went to Neysa and embraced her. No aloofness in

this acquaintance! "Friend of mine oath, grant me leave to explain to my

lord," the Lady said to Neysa, and the unicorn-girl nodded.

Left to thine own devices, thou wilt surely come to grief."

"Agreed," Stile said easily, though he was not pleased.

"Fortunately I have Hulk and Neysa and thee to look after me.

Soon will I eliminate the major threat to my tenure as Adept, and will stand

no longer in need of such supervision."

What irony there was rolled off her without visible effect. The

fairness and softness of her appearance concealed the implacable skill with

which she fought to preserve the works of her late husband. There was

nothing soft about her dedication to his memory. "Be that as it may-the

mare feels un-free to leave thee at this time. Hulk may depart and I am not

committed to thee as Neysa is. Therefore she prefers to postpone breeding

until thou'rt secure."

"But this is senseless!" he protested. "She must not sacrifice her

own welfare for mine! I can offer her only hard- ship and danger."

"Aye," the Lady agreed.

"Then thou must talk to her. Make her go to the Stallion."

"Who is as masculinely logical as thee," the Lady said. "With every

bit as much comprehension of her concern. Nay, I shall not betray her

thus."

Stile grimaced. "Didst thou treat thy husband likewise?"

Now she colored. "Aye."

Stile nodded. "That should be feasible. I thank thee, Lady, for thine

insight."

"What thou askest for, thou hast," she said coolly. "Thou art now

the Blue Adept, the leading magician of the realm. Only have the human wit

not to offend the mare in the presentation of thy decision."

"And how do I find the wit not to offend thee, bride of my defunct

self? Thou knowest his tastes are mine."

She left him, not deigning to answer. Stile shrugged and returned to

the courtyard. He wanted the Lady Blue more than anything he could

imagine, and she was aware of this. But he had to win her the right way. He

had the power to convert her by magic, but he would not use it; she knew

this too. She understood him in certain ways better than he understood

himself, for she had experienced the love of his other self. She could

handle him, and she did so.

Clip and Neysa had reverted to unicorn-form and were grazing on

the patch of rich bluegrass maintained beside the fountain for that purpose.

The two were a beautifully matched set, his blue against her black, his red

socks complementing her white ones. Clip was a true unicorn in coloration;

Neysa had been excluded from the herd for some years because her color

resembled that of a horse. Stile still got angry when he thought about that.

and guidance. No one can do that as well as the mare. Therefore I must

seek a postponement of the Stallion's imperative until this crisis abates. I

realize this works a hardship on Neysa, and is selfish of me -- "

Neysa snorted musically, pleased, and not for a moment deceived.

She resumed chewing her mouthful. Clip angled his horn at her in askance,

but saw that she was satisfied, so kept silent.

One problem had been exchanged for another, however. It was not

any mare's prerogative to gainsay the Herd Stallion. Stile would have to do

that himself, as the Blue Adept. In the informal but rigorous hierarchy of this

world, herd-leaders, pack-leaders, tribe-leaders and Adepts were roughly

equivalent, though the ultimate power lay with the Adepts. Stile would deal

with the Herd Stallion as an equal.

First he had to settle things at the Blue Demesnes. Stile talked with

his human bodyguard from the other frame, Hulk. Hulk was as big as Stile

was small: a towering mass of muscle, expert in all manner of physical

combat but not, despite the assumption of strangers, stupid.

"It is necessary that I leave this castle for a day or so," Stile told

him. "I must negotiate with the unicorn Herd Stallion, and I cannot summon

him here."

Hulk made a gesture of acquiescence. "She is surely worth

guarding."

"Yes. She maintained the Blue Demesnes after her lord, mine

alternate self, was murdered. Without her help I could not fill this office of

Adept. I have the power of magic, but lack experience. I am reminded daily

of this." Stile smiled wryly, remembering how the Lady Blue had just set

him straight about Neysa. "And -- "

"And she is an extraordinarily attractive woman," Hulk finished. "A

magnet for mischief."

"Mine alternate self had excellent taste."

"That's one thing I don't quite understand yet. If only a person

whose double in the other frame is dead can cross the curtain that

separates one frame from the other, what about me? Do I have an

alternate self here who died?"

Stile considered. "Thy tenure in the other frame of Proton was for

twenty years. Was thy family there before thee?"

"No. I came at age fifteen for my enlistment. My time would have

been up in a few more months. My family never set foot on Planet Proton.

They live fifteen light years away."

"So thy existence on this planet stems only from thy tenure as a

serf," Stile concluded. "Thou hast no natural existence in this other frame of

Hulk laughed good-naturedly. 'Tease me not, little giant. Thy

stature is as mine, in martial arts."

"In mine own weight-class," Stile qualified. It was good to talk with

someone who understood Stile's home-world and the Game.

They started off within the hour. Stile played his harmonica,

accumulating his magic, then sang one of the spells he had worked out:

"By the power of magic vested in me, make me blank so none can see." He

was unable to heal himself or cure himself of illness, but he could change

his aspect before other people. He held up his hand, then waved it before

his face: nothing. He was invisible.

Neysa, of course, knew him by smell and sound. She was not

spooked. "This way," he explained, "it will not be obvious that I am

departing."

"A watcher could see that the mare carries a burden," the Lady

pointed out.

"That's right," Stile agreed, surprised. He considered a moment,

then sang: "By the power of magic vested in me, make me as light as I can

be." He felt the weight of his body dissipate. "Excellent."

Both Hulk and the Lady looked perplexed. Stile laughed. "I shall

answer thy questions in turn. Lady, thou knowest by my voice that I remain

standing on the floor; how is it that I do not float to the ceiling? Because my

"Methinks Stile likes magic," Hulk muttered. "Personally, I do not

believe in it."

"Else mightest thou be Adept too," Stile said, laughing to show the

humor, though he suspected there was some truth in it. Every person could

do some magic, but few could do strong magic. Stile's own magic talent

was reflected in the science frame of Proton as considerable ability in other

things, such as the Game, and Hulk was almost as capable there. Hulk

might be able to learn to be a magician, if he ever cared to try. Perhaps

there were many others who could be similarly competent at magic, if they

only believed they could and worked to perfect their techniques. But only

one person in perhaps a thousand believed, so there were very few

Adepts. Of course, the established Adepts ruthlessly eliminated any

developing rivals, so it was safer to opt out of that arena entirely. The

enmity of an Adept was a terrible thing.

Stile bid his final farewells, mounted Neysa, needing no saddle or

bridle, and they joined Clip. The two unicorns trotted briskly out the gate.

To an observer it would seem Clip was conducting his sibling to the

breeding site, as required. The little bit of weight Neysa carried hardly

made a difference.

It was good to travel with his unicorn again. Stile was not sure

whether he could transport himself magically from place to place. If that

special gaits and acrobatic abilities beyond the imagination of any horse;

plus human intelligence; plus the ability to change shape. Yes, the unicorn

was the creature Stile had been searching For all his life without realizing it

until he met one.

Neysa, in girl-form, had become his lover, before he had met the

Lady Blue and realized that his ultimate destiny had to lie with his own kind.

There had been some trouble between Neysa and the Lady Blue at first;

but now as oathfriend to the Blue Adept, the unicorn needed no further

reassurance. In this magic frame, friendship transcended mere male-

female relations, and an oath of friendship was the most binding

commitment of all.

It was ironic that now that Neysa could achieve her fondest wish-to

have her own foal-that oath of friendship interfered. Neysa's logic was

probably correct; Stile did need her to protect him from the pitfalls of this

barely familiar world until he could deal with his secret enemy. Unicorns

were immune to most magic; only Adept-class spells could pass their

threshold. Stile had reason to believe his enemy was an Adept; his own

Adept magic, buttressed by the protective ambience of the unicorn, should

safeguard him against even that level. As the Lady Blue had pointed out,

the original Blue Adept had not had a unicorn to guard him, and that might

have made the difference. He really did need Neysa.

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摘要：

hollowhorn,soundinglikeamellowsaxophone.Thenotesfloatedacrossthefieldaheadofhim.Stilewalkedtoaparapetandlookeddown.Hewasanextremelysmallbutfitman,aformerjockeywhoremainedinshape.Hewasdressedinablueshirtandbluejeans,thoughtherewerethosewhofeltthatneitherbecamehisstation.Hisstationwassuch,however,that...

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Piers Anthony - Adept 2 - Blue Adept

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