Once Luke and Anakin had left the Companion's meadow, Luke began plying his father with questions. "How did you get here? How did you get yourself a part in the game?"
Anakin smiled. "I don't know how I ended up in Xanth, my son, any more than I know how this strange land works. But I am infinitely glad to be here. It is truly a wondrous place." He motioned for Luke to accompany him down a game-approved path. "As for how I ended up in the game, I volunteered. I felt I owed something to the game for allowing me to be reunited with my wife and son."
Luke felt a rush of warmth. He was seeing his father again! Almost a year after his "death," he was seeing Anakin, talking to him, basking in his presence. Even if it was only temporary, even if once he'd finished the game he would have to leave Xanth, it was worth any price.
"How's Mother doing?"
"She's doing very well," Anakin replied. "I sought her out after my arrival, and we built ourselves a small but comfortable home on the edge of the village of Imp Ire."
"Expecting a delivery from the stork anytime soon?" Luke asked mischeviously.
Anakin good-naturedly punched his arm. "Get your head out of the gutter, Luke. No, we've decided that for now, two children are enough. We hope that someday our family will be reunited in Xanth."
Luke pondered that for a moment. "Does everyone who dies in Mundania or our world come to Xanth?"
"I don't believe so, or this world would be very crowded indeed. I'm not sure why some people make it here and others don't. That may be a question for the Good Magician."
Luke smiled. "I may have to ask him someday."
"How is Leia?" Anakin inquired.
"She's… fine," Luke replied. "She and Han are finally engaged."
Anakin's expression became forlorn. "She still hates me, doesn't she? Not that I think she has no right to…"
Luke put an arm around his father's shoulders. "Father, we both know you made a lot of mistakes. But you're not Darth Vader anymore. You're Anakin Skywalker. Leia hates Vader, but she doesn't know Anakin. I hope that, someday, she can get to know you and differentiate between the two."
"You speak as if I have a twin somewhere," Anakin said, lightening a little.
Luke laughed. "Maybe you do." He dropped his arm. "Um… I know we're technically supposed to be playing a game, but can we take a detour to Imp Ire? I'd really like to see Mom again."
Anakin chuckled. "Of course we can. There is no penalty for delaying the game." He spread his arms, the hanging folds of his robes making them resemble wings. "Shall we take the air route?"
"Hey, we're not Skywalkers for nothing," Luke replied.
Anakin laughed, a laugh that quickly morphed into a low growl as he transformed into a dragon in the blink of an eye. Luke climbed aboard the massive neck and held on tightly as his father stroked the air with his wings, crouched, and leaped skyward. The world rocked wildly around him for a second, then dropped away as they gained altitude.
Luke whooped exultantly, throwing his head back and his arms into the air, relishing the wind in his face and hair. Stang, it had been so long since he'd done some recreational flying! Not for a moment did he regret his position as head of the New Jedi Order, but his responsibilities as the only living Jedi Master weighed him down. He hadn't had an opportunity to enjoy himself in so long!
/There's something I must tell you, Luke/ came Anakin's voice into his mind, seeing as he really couldn't speak in his dragon form. /Something regarding the game./
"What's that?"
/The last time we came to Xanth, our Companions neglected to mention that it is impossible to die in the game./
"What? You can't die in Xanth?"
/It is quite possible to die in Xanth – unless you're involved in the game. If a Player suffers something in the course of the game that would otherwise result in his death, he is simply sent back to wherever he came from, be it Mundania or our world. If the same thing happens to a Companion, he or she goes back to the start of the game./
"So back when we first played, when I almost drowned and you got hit by an arrow… we were in no danger?"
/No danger of actual death. But we would have been ejected from the game, and we would have had to start over./
"But why didn't Jenny or Metria ever tell us?"
/Good Magician's orders. Remember, a wager between the World Demons rode on our quest. If we had quit the game or exited by "death," the wager would have been settled by other, less competent beings. By letting us believe our deaths in the game would mean our deaths in our world, he was encouraging us to be cautious and complete the game./
Luke shook his head. "Are we sure the Good Magician isn't just Master Kenobi in disguise?"
Anakin gave a barking roar that mimicked a human laugh. /Believe me, that old gnome has been around longer than Obi-wan was alive./
A sense of danger suddenly prompted Luke to glance over his shoulder.
"Father, look out!"
Anakin swerved sharply in midair, and a huge boulder whizzed past, missing his left wing by centimeters. That rock was followed by another, then another.
"What's going on?" demanded Luke. Last time he'd been in Xanth he'd seen plenty of strange things, but not flying rocks.
/I'm not sure, but it looks like we have company/ Anakin replied, lurching to a hovering halt to dodge another flurry of stones.
Luke looked up – and burst out laughing. A formation of TIE Interceptors, each so small no one much taller than Master Yoda would be able to fit inside, was gliding toward them like a swarm of gnats. A flying stone arced toward the fighters, but a blast of emerald fire shattered the projectile, turning it to relatively harmless fragments that rattled against their plating.
/The Starfleet of Imp Ire/ Anakin told him. /Though why they're patrolling this far outside their territory is beyond me./
"Dragon and rider!" An amplified voice echoed through the air. "This is Sergeant Imp Ressive of the Army of Imp Ire! Turn back now, or you WILL be shot down!"
/Whoa/ thought Luke. The imps hadn't been this blatantly unfriendly to him before. What had happened to sour their relationship with him?
/They don't recognize you/ Anakin replied. /Besides, dragons are seen in Xanth as dangerous predators. If you're able to control one, they must assume you're a threat./
"Don't they know you?"
/Yes, they accept Padme and I as part of their village. But they do not know of my shape-shifting powers yet. I see it was a mistake to hide it from them./
"Dragon and rider, I repeat – turn back NOW or you WILL be shot down!" Ressive ordered.
At that moment, a rock hurtled toward the formation, which broke apart hurriedly to avoid a collision. One ship wasn't fast enough – the boulder shattered its port stabilizer. The Interceptor spiraled helplessly toward the jungle below.
"Father, DIVE!" ordered Luke.
Anakin obeyed, folding his wings and plummeting after the crippled fighter. Before it could smash to pieces in the trees below, he snatched it in his claws. Instantly the other TIEs regrouped to surround them, fully prepared to blast Anakin out of the sky.
"Sithspawn," said Luke, his curse coloring the air briefly. "Father, see if you can't open the fighter hatch with your claws…"
Anakin opened the TIE through the simple expedient of chewing the top off.
"Or you can do that, if you want," Luke finished with an amused smile.
The imp pilot's head and upper body emerged from the fighter, clutching a blast-it in one hand.
"Don't shoot!" Luke told him. "We're friendly."
The imp stared at him for half a second, then spoke into his comm unit. "Hold fire! All units hold fire! It's the Walker of the Sky!"
The ships broke apart, reforming a conventional formation, and Ressive spoke again via loudspeaker.
"Our apologies, Walker of the Sky," he said regretfully. "But when we spotted the dragon, we thought you were part of another goblin plot."
"Understood and forgiven," Luke replied. The imps regarded Luke as a hero, if not a legend, seeing as last time he'd played the game he'd rid their village of a dangerous forget-whorl and helped drive off a pack of vicious harpies. He wasn't too fond of the title they'd given him, but since it did no harm, he could live with it.
"Our squadron is seeking out the cat-apult the goblins are using to besiege Imp Ire," explained Ressive. "We've located it but can't get close enough to destroy it."
"Maybe I can help," Luke replied.
"We'd appreciate it greatly," Ressive replied. "Lieutenant Imp Act will show you the way."
The imp they'd rescued clambered up Anakin's foreleg and clung to Luke's shoulder, pointing ahead and to the right. "Past that bluff, between two groves of chest-nut trees. Watch for flying rocks."
No sooner were the words out of Act's mouth than a skyborne avalanche arced over the top of the bluff and hurtled toward them. Anakin executed a tight turn to avoid the projectiles – only to propel himself full-force into the face of the bluff…
And pass through effortlessly.
"What the…" gaped Luke once they were on the other side.
"It was a bluff," Act told him. "All show, no substance. You can penetrate any bluff just by calling its bluff like that."
Anakin gave a draconine laugh as Luke smacked his forehead, wondering why he didn't catch the pun earlier.
Between two copses of trees crouched the biggest cat Luke had ever seen. Larger than a reek and built like a sand panther, it had a large scoop attached to the tip of its tail. As the three of them watched, several burly goblins loaded stones into the scoop, and with a flick of its tail the cat-apult launched them into the air.
"Luckily, most of our buildings are reinforced," Act noted. "But it's become dangerous to go outside. We can't gather food, send out scout parties, or even let our children outside to play without fear of being squashed."
"Well, it's time we taught this kitty a lesson," Luke decided. "Father, let's cruise closer to the ground. Maybe we'll find something useful."
Anakin dropped lower, adjusting his speed to a slow glide. Luke and Act scanned the forest floor, seeking something to combat this menace.
"What's that?" Luke asked, pointing to a patch of greenery. Every plant there had two leaves, which were placed close together to resemble a beak-like mouth reminiscent of a carnivorous plant.
"That's cat nip," Act replied. "Bites horribly. But cat-based species like griffons, sphinxes, and kitty hawks love it and will rub their faces in it, roll in it, and play with it, even though it bites them as much as any other creature."
Struck by a burst of inspiration, Luke extended an arm in a gesture to focus the Force. A great clump of cat nip was yanked up by the roots, and the clump hurtled toward them. Luke grabbed his pack (he'd come prepared for the game this time) and held it open, catching the plants inside. The cat nip squirmed and struggled like a nest of gundarks as he fought to close the bag.
Satisfied that Luke had found the answer, Anakin began to ascend. But his tail struck the branches of a nearby tree, which began barking and snarling in irritation.
"Dogwood!" Luke realized. "Father, grab that too! Can't be too prepared!"
Anakin clasped the tree in his claws and uprooted it with a great heave. Still clutching the tree, he ascended to seek out the cat-apult again.
The goblins were readying the cat-apult for another round of fire when they sailed overhead. Laughing and shrieking, the goblins pointed eagerly at Anakin.
"Shoot the dragon down! There'll be fresh meat tonight!"
/I think not/ Anakin snarled. /Now, Luke/
"Now!" Luke shouted, dumping the cat nip plants out. They fell upon the cat-apult like a green snowfall, immediately latching onto the beast with their horrid leaf-beaks. The cat-apult gave a horrific shriek of pain, then began purring and rubbing its face in the plants even as they snapped mercilessly at its nose and the pads of its paws.
An instant later, Anakin released the dogwood tree. It hit the forest floor and smashed to pieces. Each piece, remarkably enough, was shaped like some sort of canine, ranging in size from as small as Luke's hand to as big as an Endor pony. Immediately the wooden dogs took off after the cat-apult, baying with glee, harrying the huge cat like snub fighters harassing a Stardestroyer. The by-now-thoroughly-confused feline bolted, hissing and yowling and purring all at the same time. The goblins raised their fists to the sky and cursed long and loud.
"You did it!" cheered Act, pumping the air with a fist. "You drove away the cat-apult!"
Sergeant Ressive and his squadron flew through the bluff to join Luke and Anakin. "Thank you again, Walker of the Sky," the imp officer said gratefully. "Come back to Imp Ire with us. We're going to have a celebration, and I have a feeling you and your dragon will be the guests of honor."
"I was already planning on a visit," Luke replied. "Let's go."
Break…
Even the best in the galaxy could slip in their diligence.
Boba Fett turned in place to inspect the clearing he'd awakened in, puzzled. Why in the galaxy was he in the middle of a Force-forsaken jungle when, as far as he could recall, he'd last been in a cantina on Ord Mantell collecting payment from the planet governor for hunting down his runaway daughter and her low-life boyfriend?
He cursed himself loudly. Why had he accepted the governor's offer to have a drink? No doubt the politician had drugged the beverage, then had his unconscious body dumped on some backwater world…
/Don't be an idiot/ he told himself. /If he'd really wanted to be rid of you, he would have poisoned you or bombed your ship, not stranded you here and taken the chance of you surviving and making your way back to civilization. Besides, you had a LOT more than just that one drink in you, remember/
He swore again, kicking the moss-furred earth beneath his feet. Stang it all! He almost never allowed himself to become intoxicated. Why had he let himself do so last night? How could he have been so Sith-spawned stupid!
Smoke burned his nostrils, and he whirled to see the tree behind him smoldering ominously. Startled, he cursed again, and as if in reaction to his words the tree burst into flames. Fett backed away, blaster out. What was going on here?
He backtracked mentally as well, trying to pinpoint just what had gone on last night to lead to this. He'd collected the bounty, the governor had bought him a drink, that one drink had turned to half a dozen, another stone-drunk cantina patron had called him to his table to show him "the sweetest computer game this side of the Core…"
That was where things got fuzzy. He could recall accepting the kid's offer to play the game, and there was an incredibly blurred memory of finding himself in a meadow full of sideshow freaks, who he'd belligerently told to get lost. His brow furrowed. Was that last memory a vague recollection of the game, or had it taken place here?
Something squawked close by, and he turned to see an unusual bird watching him from a nearby tree. A scarlet bird with a black patch like a mask over its eyes, it wore an ornate white robe and a tall hat patterned with a crucifix. Upon seeing him, the bird bobbed its head and murmured what sounded strangely like a prayer.
/Hmph. Odd creature. Must be someone's escaped pet./
"It's a cardinal," someone piped up behind him.
Fett whirled and fired, and the cardinal flew off with a shriek. The speaker, meanwhile, stared at Fett with an irritated expression, the tree just behind her smoking from the close miss.
"What was that for?" she demanded.
Fett just stared at this woman, who looked just as strange, if not stranger, than the cardinal. Thin without being supermodel-skinny, she wore a turquoise reptile-skin cape, high-heeled knee-high boots of red leather, a black ankle-length skirt slit clear up to mid-thigh, a neon orange sleeveless shirt with forest-green polka-dots, and cat-eye spectacles with rhinestone-studded frames. Her frizzy orange-red hair had been pulled up in a librarian-style knot and held there with a couple of pencils, and her full lips and the skin around her piercing gray-green eyes had been painted identical shades of royal purple.
It took several seconds for him to fully take in this bizarre sight and formulate a reply. "Don't sneak up on me again," he snarled.
"I'll do it if I like, honey," she informed him, lowering her glasses and giving him a superior look.
"Lady, don't you fear what I could do to you?" he demanded. "Don't you know who I am?"
"Not much scares me, dearie," she replied with a mysterious smile. "As for the second question – no, who are you?"
"Boba Fett, the most legendary bounty hunter in the galaxy," he rasped. Normally he didn't flaunt his unofficial title, but obviously this woman needed her memory refreshed. Who hadn't heard of Boba Fett?
"Glad to meet you, Boba Fett," she replied, extending a hand – a hand with long, maroon-painted nails. "I'm Sorceress Alto."
"I don't believe in sorcerers or sorceresses," Fett declared, ignoring the hand.
"That's okay," she replied cheerily, dropping her arm to her side. "I don't believe in bounty hunters, so we're even."
He stared at her again. "How can you not believe in bounty hunters when there's one standing right before you?"
"How can YOU not believe in sorceresses when there's one standing right before you?"
He shut his mouth, fuming. Bested by a crazy woman!
"So what's a strange man like you doing here?" she inquired.
SHE was calling HIM strange? "I have no idea. I don't even know where 'here' is."
"Ah, you must be Mundanian!" she exclaimed with an eager smile. "Well, I'll be happy to educate you, Mr. Fett. First off, welcome to Xanth!"
"Xanth?"
"That's what I said, sweetheart."
"There's no such thing as a world called Xanth!"
"Sure there is, muffin, and you're standing on it."
Fett snarled and turned to go. "I don't have time for this. I have to find a spaceport…"
"I see, you're not from Mundania. You're from the Galaxy Far, Far Away. Sorry, but there ain't no spaceports on Xanth, pal. I'd suggest you come back… and don't step in the water…"
He ignored her, going straight to the creek that bordered the meadow on one side and wading in up to his waist. Instantly jolts of agony flashed up his legs, and he bit back a cry of pain.
"I tried to warn you!" she called. "That's a cripple creek! Better get out of there fast, pal."
Easier said than done. Every step brought further torture, as if there were an electric current running through the water. By the time he stumbled back to the shore, he couldn't even stand. With a groan he collapsed on the bank.
A throaty snarl brought him to his senses, and he looked up. A scaly muzzle hovered a hand's breadth away, fangs bared, slobber dripping from its chin, smoke curling from its nostrils. Fett reached for his blaster, cursing his lame legs.
"Oh my!" exclaimed Alto. "You've just met Diggory Dragon, my associate, and good gracious, I think he's going to eat you! Diggory, get back!"
The dragon ignored her. Fett fired once, but strangely enough the bolt changed trajectory, circling around Diggory and going for Alto. She shrieked and ducked, the bolt smashing into another tree.
"You idiot, put it away!" she barked. "That's a blast-her! It only works on females!"
"What!" bellowed Fett.
"Oh, I'll explain in a minute," she grumbled, and she placed a hand on Diggory's flank, singing gently. The dragon blinked yellow eyes, then stopped snarling and curled up on the spot. Within minutes the great beast was asleep. Satisfied that the dragon was no more danger, Alto patted his nose and went to Fett, dragging him into the center of the clearing.
"Now," she told him, "you have questions, cupcake, and I have answers. But it's no fair if you're the only one who gets to ask the questions, so for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one. How's that sound?"
"I suppose I don't have much choice, do I?" he growled.
"Oh, cheer up, grouchy-mask," she said in a babyish voice, pretending to pinch his cheek through the mask. "Okay, you get the first question, Mr. Fett. Ask me anything."
He struggled to a sitting-up position. "How long do the cripple-creek's affects last?"
"Oh, several hours, unless you happen to find a healing spring," she replied easily. "But seeing as you have a long way to go, pumpkin, I'd better rig something for you." She strolled over to the nearest tree and broke off two thick but flexible branches.
"What do you mean I have a long way to go?" demanded Fett.
"Ah-ah-ah, I get to ask the next question," she chided, stripping the leaves from the branches. "My question – how did you get to Xanth when you're miles from the gateway?"
He shook his head. "I don't know a thing about a gateway, Miss Alto. The last thing I remember is something about a computer game…"
"Ah-HA!" she exclaimed. "'The Companions of Xanth!' THAT game! It's a means for people outside Xanth to visit every so often!"
He smacked his helmet. The intro was coming back now! That strange golem creature had explained the means for him to enter the game – by suspending his disbelief. And being drunk, he'd been willing to believe anything. Unfortunately, the intro had also explained that he would need a Companion to aid him in his progress, and he'd chased off his Companion – whoever he, she, or it had been – while he'd been inebriated. Now he was stuck!
"Your turn, pal," she told him, bending down and strapping the sticks to his legs.
"How am I supposed to get out of this insane game?" he snarled.
"I honestly don't know," she replied. "Only Companions know that, and you seem to have lost yours. The only other ways out are to die – which isn't pleasant, though it'll take you right back to where you left off in your world – or to win the game. And to win the game, you have to find a prize. And to find the prize, you need to ask the Good Magician."
"Who's the Good Magician?"
"Hey, it's my turn, bub!" she snapped. "My question – what's with the mask? Why not take it off and enjoy some fresh air…"
"None of your business," he snapped. "My turn for a question – where does this Good Magician live?"
"South of the Gap, past Com Pewter's cave… ah, I'll get you a map, cowboy!" She stood. "There. How do they feel?"
He looked down. Alto had made some sort of makeshift braces for his legs. He gingerly got to his feet. Though his legs still hurt, the braces seemed to take most of the weight for him. And when he took a step, the braces did most of the moving for him.
"They'll do," Fett told her.
"Excellent. Walking-sticks always do the trick for someone who's stepped in a cripple creek. Now, my question…"
"You already asked it. You specifically asked me how the walking-sticks felt."
She rolled her eyes. "All right, Mr. Smartypants, ask your question."
"Xanth is obviously an alternate world of some sort," he said. "Can you explain its nature?"
"Yes."
"Well?"
"You didn't ask me to explain it, sweetie-pie. You just asked me if I could."
He raised his blaster again.
"All right, all right," she huffed. "Xanth's a land where magic is the rule. For example, people who are born here or do special favors for the demons get magic talents – mine is being able to control animals by singing to them. Like this." She belted out an enthusiastic opera score, and the dragon perked up and went through an entire repertoire of tricks – play dead, roll over, beg, dance, sit, and blow fire through his nostrils.
"Impressive," Fett admitted.
"Another thing Xanth's famous for is puns – the walking-sticks and cripple creek, for example. And your blast-her as well."
Fett studied the gun. It didn't appear to have changed. But then, if magic was the rule here…
"And now my final question," Alto concluded, handing him a folded map. "How do you plan on getting out of here?"
"The game?"
"No, my meadow."
He holstered his gun. "I was planning on taking the path…" He gestured toward a path he now saw leading away from the clearing.
She made a sound like a buzzer going off. "Sorry, wrong answer."
"You can't keep me here…"
She whistled a little tune, and Diggory Dragon snarled. Fett started to draw his gun, remembered at the last second, and raised his fist to activate the flechete thrower.
"I wouldn't advise that, sweets," she told him. "Dragons are tough to fight. Now, I've done a lot for you – explained Xanth to you, gave you a map, fixed your legs after you stupidly went for a swim in the cripple creek… the least you can do is repay me."
"All right," he snarled. "What do I do to repay you?"
She clapped eagerly like a little girl. "We play riddles!" she squealed. "And I keep asking you more and more riddles until you finally get one right and THEN you can leave!"
Riddles! He groaned aloud. He hated word games. He saw no point in them. Puns annoyed him to no end as well, but if he had to put up with them to win the game and escape Xanth, he would. But if Alto expected him to submit to this lunacy just so she could be entertained…
"Or I suppose you can fight Diggory to get out, hotshot," she suggested.
The dragon jetted flame from its mouth.
Fett sized up the dragon and weighed his chances of surviving a battle with the dragon intact. He didn't particularly like the odds. "Fine, ask the stupid riddle."
She whooped enthusiastically. "All right, here's the first one. Listen carefully." And she began chanting a poem:
"If all the world were apple pie
And all the seas were ink
And all the trees were bread and cheese
What would we have to drink?"
He glared at her. "That's not a riddle, that's a stupid children's rhyme!"
"It's a riddle all the same," she told him, tapping her maroon nails together. "But let me ask a simpler one, then. What's the sound of one hand clapping?"
He growled. "I don't have time for this…"
"C'mon, the answer for it's the same as the first riddle!"
With a snarl of exasperation he stalked to the edge of the clearing and began whacking his head against the trunk of a tree.
"Oh-ho, he's been driven to the insani-tree already," she giggled. "Okay, okay, an easier one then, though I don't know why you aren't getting these, teddy-bear. Just because no one else ever has… okay, what's the answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything! C'mon, this should be easy…"
Fett reared his head back for another whack, but something drifting down from the branches of the tree caught his eye. A bit of fluff the size of his fist, it didn't appear to be significant in the least. But Fett hadn't survived among the dregs of society this long by dismissing insignificant-looking details. He opened his hand, and the glob of matter landed in his palm.
/Forty-two./
He shook his head. It was as if something had spoken to him… had it come from whatever this thing was?
/The answer is forty-two./
"I'm waiting," Alto informed him.
He turned to face her, concealing the object in his fist. "I have an answer to your riddles."
She grinned. "Conking your noggin jolted an answer loose, eh?" She cocked her head expectantly.
"The answer is forty-two."
Her mouth dropped open. "I don't believe it! No one's ever gotten my riddles before!" Her eyes narrowed. "How'd you find the answer?"
"Sheer luck. Now will you allow me to leave?"
"Fine, you can go. You solved the challenge anyhow."
"Challenge?"
"I was one of your game challenges, honey-buns. Well, one of THE game challenges, anyway. There are two other Players, and one of them ended up doing his first challenge at Imp Ire, the other one at the boardwalk. You were just lucky enough to get me."
"Lucky," he snarled sarcastically.
"Lucky indeed," she replied. "Not many people figure out how to use the Germ of an Idea like the one you found. That's right, don't try to hide it from me."
He opened his hand. "This is the Germ of an Idea?"
"Yeah, keep it around. It could come in handy." She smiled mischievously. "NOW do you believe in sorceresses, flyboy?"
He shrugged. "I suppose I do. Now do YOU believe in bounty hunters?"
Alto shook her head. "Nope." She laughed. "Good luck on your journey, hot stuff."
He couldn't get out of that clearing fast enough. However he'd ended up in this ridiculous land, he had to get out fast – before he was truly driven to insanity.