The only difference was a large, floppy-leaved green plant about four feet tall, standing in the middle of the room. Among its leaves was a trumpet-shaped growth that might have resembled a flower if it had not been more obviously a large, furled leaf. The plant could have been taken for a four-foot-high ornamental growth, if only it had been in some kind of pot or planter.
“Forgive me for thrusting myself upon your attention,” it said to him unexpectedly, in a squeaky voice. “I am a Dieffenbachia seguine cantans, a singing plant. Not to be confused with the ordinary Dieffenbacbia seguine, or dumbcane, as it is known in many kingdoms like the one you undoubtedly came from. I used to sing Merlin himself to sleep with a sweet lullaby-and now listen to me.”
It began to squeak and shrill in a completely unbearable fashion; so that it was only by heroic effort that Jim kept from putting his hands over his ears to at least give his sense of hearing some protection.
It stopped, after what seemed a long time.
“Yes,” said Jim, in the wonderful silence that followed, “that’s bad. I take it you’re here to get help from the Mage?”
“Ah, you know the Mage!” The dieffenbachia lowered its squeaky voice suddenly, and its large green leaves dipped shyly. “Would you possibly be a magickian yourself, honored sir?”
“A very low-class magician only.”
“Ah, but still, you might know what has happened to my lovely voice. Sirens took lessons from me at one time. Nightingales dropped by regularly to brush up on the pitch of their notes. By any chance-“
“I’m afraid not.”
“No,” said the Diejjenbacbia cantans, its single furled leaf drooping even farther. “Forgive me, Mage-“
“I’m not entitled to be addressed as Mage,” said Jim.
“But the Land of Lyonesse is in parlous state!” squeaked the Diefjenbacbia cantans. “I must help it and those of noble mind who will defend it. They must have the encouragement of my singing, else Lyonesse may be lost-“
“I doubt your loss of voice is quite that important,” the Mage said. She gestured with one arm, the wide sleeve of her long, comfortable-looking dark-green gown flaring momentarily. The motion caused the tips of brown, slipperlike shoes to appear from beneath the hem of the garment. “In any case, attempts are being made by me and those like me to prevent the loss of Lyonesse,” she went on. “In fact, that’s what brings the Dragon Knight of Malencontri here to speak with me-and that is what he and I must be about now. It’s time for you to go.”
“Begone!” said KinetetE-and it was.
“Weren’t you”-Jim hesitated-“sort of hard on him-her-it... whatever the word would be?”
“That plant is a ‘he’ then?”
As it happens,” said KinetetE. “The female Diefjenbacbia cantansae are far less arrogant. To answer your first question, however-as you suspected, Carolinus must not be troubled at this time. Under such conditions it was quite proper for you to call on me.”
I hadn’t asked any question yet.”
It wasn’t necessary. You, Brian, and Dafydd are going to Lyonesse to stop the Dark Powers from conquering and owning it. You’ve simply come to me instead of Carolinus for aid in direction and the necessary increase in your own magick abilities for that task.”
“Wait a minute,” said Jim, as she paused. It was next to impossible to interrupt KinetetE when she was speaking. Each of her sentences was a statement that nailed any interlocutor to a wall of silence until she was done speaking. “You’re jumping way ahead of what we’ve planned. In the first place, Brian can’t go-“
“Nonsense!” said KinetetE, interrupting Jim without the least difficulty. “You should know better than that. In fact, you do. You landed in our world to find you could speak to and understand everybody you encountered; and ever since you’ve carried around the notion that therefore they felt and thought the same way you and Angie were used to. Well, we don’t; and you’d better start keeping that in mind. Now, try to imagine you’re Brian. If you were him, would you stay home while Dafydd and you go?”
“Not of his own free will, of course,” said Jim. “But with this business of putting up Smythe Castle as surety, he hasn’t any choice.”
“Choice!” KinetetE did not sneer. She did not need to. The tone of her voice took care of everything. “Put yourself in Brian’s place, as I say. You are Sir Brian Neville-Smythe. You are a great lance at spear-runnings and tournaments. You are known as one of the heroes who conquered the Dark Powers at the Loathly Tower. But here comes another chance to cross swords, metaphorically speaking, with the same Powers. The other two heroes are there, but not you. What will other knights-what will all England say?”
Jim almost blushed. He felt as if he was in third grade, having just been led into an unfair verbal trap by his teacher.
“That he was dodging this new battle,” he answered. Now that the words were out, he was absolutely certain of what people of this time, particularly Brian’s competitors, would say about his friend. “That he’d lost his nerve.”
“You see? You can understand, but you’ve got to stop and look twice. Do so from now on.”
“But how can he be absent now that he’s promised to be available on this surety bond, or whatever it is, without notice?”
“You know the answer to that, too; and if you’d thought you’d have realized Brian would have asked you himself right out to use magick to warn you and send him back the moment he’s required at Smythe. Return him in a twinkling. He hasn’t asked you that yet because it might be an imposition on you. And, of course, that’s another reason you’re here now, pretending only to ask for advice from me-you want me to give you not only advice and more magick, but a way to use your magick in Lyonesse, against the laws of that and all other nonhuman Kingdoms.”
Jim had now shrunk to kindergarten size in his own estimation.
“All right,” he said, “I did want advice from you on some way of possibly carrying what magic I’ve got into Lyonesse-but that’s if I go, myself. Angie will probably be against my going. For that matter, with their banns about to be published and their wedding as soon after that as possible, Geronde may not want Brian to go.”
“Do you think she’ll say anything to stop him?” said KinetetE. “Angie may say something to you if you talk about going; but she comes from a world where you have choices in such matters. Here, Geronde has her life and Brian has his, each with separate duties. Brian’s chief duty is fighting and winning. Geronde’s is to hold what is theirs. In each case, their duties come first. It would do her no good to tell him she doesn’t want him to go. He would go anyway because there’s no alternative. He’d be unhappy, but only because she’s unhappy. I think you’ll find Geronde will say nothing and spare him that.”
Jim gave up.
“All right,” he said. “Assuming we all go to the Drowned Land with Dafydd and end up in Lyonesse. How can I-or Dafydd and I, and even if Brian was with us- hope to do anything about what the Dark Powers are at in Lyonesse?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said KinetetE. “Neither would any other good magickian belonging to this world. Dark Powers, forsooth!” For a moment she looked even more cadaverous than usual, her face seeming at odds with the homey comfort of her room and her gown.
“Chaos threatens,” she went on, “in a new and more dangerous way; and History calls on you, Brian, and Dafydd to set right the balance. So says Carolinus, who sees more deeply into this endless struggle between those two forces than any of the rest of us. None of the rest of the Magickal Collegiate can imagine any hope of turning back this move toward Chaos. But Carolinus thinks you can do it, somehow, with your mad, otherworld ways.”
“What if we won’t go?”
“Then we all suffer,” said KinetetE coldly. “Every time one of the two Forces wins, the balance between them is broken. The winner becomes stronger and more likely to finally destroy the other completely. That affects all of us. But ‘all’ includes you and everyone you know. If Chaos rules, there’ll be no more rules. You and Angie will most certainly be torn apart. So will Geronde and Brian, Dafydd, Danielle, and their children. Now, do you want me to give or help you now with what you’ll want-and I’ll give you anything I can in good magickal conscience-or would you rather call on me as you need me?”
Jim thought quickly. He was still determined not to go: but that argument could be settled later. Meanwhile, a door left continually open was much better than one open at just this moment. “I’ll call on you.”
“I see. Along with everyone else. Carolinus never stops befriending everyone and everything he meets; and they all want a piece of him. Well, there’s no changing him this late in the day. Farewell, then. All right-you! The dryad third oak from Carolinus’s cottage. You’re next-“
But Jim was already back at Malencontri. Everything looked the same-but different, somehow. It was still morning, but the Great Hall was lit differently. It was as if the sunlight was coming in from the high windows at a less bright and flatter angle than it had been when he left. Brian, Dafydd, and Angie were just as he had left them at the High Table. But so, inexplicably, was Geronde, who had been off in Malvern, nearly a day’s ride away, when Jim had gone to call on KinetetE.
“Geronde!” said Jim. “How did you get here so quickly?”
He remembered just in time to give her the ritual kiss of greeting before sitting down. It was only when he released her that she had a chance to answer.
“Oh?” he said. “Last night?”
“But-“ began Jim, but checked himself. “Of course! I forgot to ask KinetetE to send me back here to the moment just after I’d left! I’ll bet she had me in suspended animation until she spoke to half a dozen others who were waiting, like that dryad.”
Geronde, Brian, and Dafydd looked at him with the polite, agreeable expressions adopted by people who are too mannerly to admit that they have no idea what “suspended animation” might mean-just in case it should have been something embarrassing or uncomfortable.
“Jim,” said Angie, gently, “do you want to tell us what you’re talking about? It was KinetetE you went to see?”
“Yes, she’s seeing everyone who wants to see Carolinus-he’s not up to visitors yet, evidently,” said Jim.
They all waited for him to go on.
“Well, you see,” he said, “I thought I’d get either Carolinus’s or her opinion about this situation with the Dark Powers trying to take over Lyonesse. The magical community would be likely to know more about it than we would.”
“And did you?” asked Angie.
“Yes-and no,” said Jim. “They were way ahead of me; or at least KinetetE and Carolinus were, or are...”
His voice trailed off as his mind began replaying the conversation he had just held with KinetetE. He woke to the waiting faces around him.
“Apparently Carolinus thinks, and KinetetE believes”-he blurted out-“Dafydd-you, Brian, and I may be the only people who can stop the Dark Powers taking over Lyonesse; and things can become very bad then for your Drowned Land, to say nothing of the whole world if we don’t.”
“Hold it,” said Jim. “That is, let me say something first.”
They stopped speaking and waited.
“What about dinner?” said Brian.
Jim cursed himself. Even after these several years he kept getting the two meal terms mixed up. Here, of course, dinner was the noonday meal. Supper came at twilight, winter or summer; and everybody both went to bed and rose with the sun-more or less.
“I’ll have the Serving Room set up this table as a table dormant,” he told Brian. “There’ll be food on it for whoever wants it, all the time.”
“James,” said Brian, “you are the best of hosts. I always think the better if my stomach is not empty.”
He stood up. They all stood up. Angie linked her arm in Jim’s.
“Come on,” she said, “let’s you and I take that walk you mentioned earlier-the one we never got around to. This is probably our best chance at the best of our autumn weather this year.”