"All aboard for Imp Ire and Lake Eerie!" shouted Alto.
Fett and Phillipa boarded the train silently and sat on opposite ends of the car – well, Fett sat while Phillipa stood in the aisle. Neither so much as glanced at the other.
Fett stared out the window, watching Xanth's bizarre landscape glide past. Why was he doing this? Why was he getting involved in yet another brewing war? Like his father, he had long sworn to keep neutral in political affairs, be it a planetary skirmish or the Galactic Civil War. The only reason he had taken so many assignments from Lord Vader was because he generally had deeper pockets than the Rebellion or most crime lords. To pitch in and aid in the upcoming battle against the Crypt Keeper and Horsemen was completely against his character.
A herd of centaurs thundered past the train, all bearing antiquated weapons such as daggers, bows and arrows, and crossbows. Luke Skywalker sat astride a dappled gray at the lead of the charge. Well, at least one of their party had achieved his goal. If the others had the same luck…
Some hours later, the train lurched to a halt, and Fett shook his head to clear away the last cobwebs of sleep. How long had he been dozing?
"Now arriving at the Imp Ire," the conductor announced. "There will be a two-hour layover during which passengers may exit the train and refresh themselves."
"Good," muttered Phillipa, swishing her reptilian tail. "I'm starving."
Fett stood and did a few stretching exercises before following the dragon-horse off the train. Time to face the imps. Though seeing as he still had the magic flute the elf had given him, he wondered what the deal was. Wouldn't it make more sense to send him somewhere else?
/Far away from Xanth, preferably/ he thought, though with less of his usual confidence. Maybe the puns had affected his sanity somehow, but strangely, the land of Xanth no longer annoyed him as much as it had just days before. Though he had no desire to remain absent from his role in the Galaxy Far, Far Away too much longer, nor did he entirely wish to leave this peculiar place.
The train had stopped in the midst of a thick jungle, with food-bearing plants all around and a clear spring a short walk away. Deciding he wasn't in any particular hurry to reach the Imp Ire, he decided to stock his pack. Extra provisions never hurt, and if he was able to take some of the more useful plants back home with him…
Phillipa's neck stretched high into the branches of a crab-apple tree as she foraged for food. The crabs clawed mercilessly at her muzzle and face, but her thick blue-green scales protected her from their pincers, and their tough shells were no match for her powerful jaws and teeth. Fett shook his head at the absurdity of the sight and left her to crunching away.
High in another tree grew round, red fruits the size of a man's eye. Curious, Fett plucked one and examined it. Seeing nothing interesting about it, he tossed it behind him.
The ground shook with a deafening explosion.
"Whaddaya trying to do, kill me!" screeched Phillipa, dancing away from the smoking crater the fruit had created.
"What was that?" he demanded, blast-her out.
"A cherry bomb, you idiot!" she hissed. "Honestly, you need a Companion…"
Cherry bomb… perhaps this could be of use. Removing his pack, he began harvesting handfuls of the bombs. Phillipa shook her head and trotted over to the spring for a drink.
Once his bag was full, Fett went to the edge of the pool and knelt, taking off his helmet. His mouth was rather dry; he could use a drink.
"Watch the bag," Phillipa advised. "Don't want you falling on your back and blowing yourself up. On second thought, maybe we would want that."
"Ha, ha," he grumbled. "Are you always this friendly, horse-face?"
"Shut up, rust-bucket." She bent her head and drank deeply.
Fett growled to himself, cupped some water in his fingers, and sipped. He could cut the crossbreed a little slack for being nervous about the upcoming confrontation at Lake Eerie, but at the same time, he didn't see why she had to be such a caustic…
The water slid like silk past his lips and down his throat, leaving behind a smell and taste he couldn't quite place – expensive wine, rare fruit, blaster ozone, crushed plants… all of these and none of them. A strange feeling flowed through his veins, one he had never felt before and so couldn't name. It was as if someone had stoked a fire in his torso, stirring long-banked coals until they glowed and sputtered with life…
He looked up from the water to where Phillipa was still drinking. It was as if a veil had been pulled back, allowing him to look upon the dragon-horse with new eyes. Her scales glittered like sunlight on the ocean's surface, green and blue and silver. Beneath the scales was a powerful yet graceful body, elegant without being dainty. She was beautiful, yet there was a sense of toughness as well, exhibited by the steel hooves, the shimmering horns and spines on her head and neck, the sinuous spade-tipped tail. Even the scars streaking her wing membrane did not detract from her appearance – they only showed her strength. This was a beast that had been to Hell and back and had emerged victorious, who had the hard luck to be the daughter of a despot but had not only avoided following in his footsteps, but chose to make amends for his crimes by fighting against another villain.
Sensing that she was being watched, Phillipa raised her head to regard him. Her brilliant green eyes, like pale gemstones, made his gorge rise, but he didn't care. He didn't want her to break her gaze, even if it meant discomfort. Stang, if she wanted to trample him under her hooves, he wouldn't mind. He would travel beyond the Outer Rim if she desired…
She stepped elegantly toward him, her sassy attitude gone, a soft expression in her eyes. Without realizing what he was doing, he stood and wrapped his arms around her neck, holding her close.
"Fett…" she rasped softly, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I'm right here," he assured her.
"Fett, you don't understand," she murmured, sounding close to tears. "You don't… bleep, how could I have been so stupid!" She pulled out of his grasp and shook her head as if chasing off flies.
"Phillipa, what is it?" he demanded. "You're crying…"
"Don't you get it? We just drank from a love spring!"
A love spring… he'd heard one of the others mention that… but what did this have to do with…
"Love springs are why Xanth has so many crossbreeds in the first place!" Phillipa snapped. "Anyone who drinks from one will fall in love with the first creature of the opposite sex they see. There's no protection, no cure… and we just drank from it! Don't you see?"
He did see, and he let out a curse that made the crab-apple tree burst into flames. No! This couldn't be happening! He couldn't be in love with this… this… creature! He was a bounty hunter, heartless, living only for the hunt. The last thing he wanted was a woman in his life, a mistress or girlfriend to complicate matters, an obligation outside his occupation… and besides, Phillipa wasn't even human! Sure, human-alien couples were tolerated, if not exactly encouraged, in his galaxy, but for a human to fall in love with a dragon-basilisk-whatever-she-was was just… wrong! Wrong in every sense of the word!
But the newly-awakened emotion within his chest protested, warring with logic. Part of him didn't care what species Phillipa was, didn't care about future complications. That part told him only that he and Phillipa belonged together, that no matter what the future held, they could weather it together. And if society disapproved… society could suck swamp gas for all he cared.
Phillipa was evidently waging her own internal war, her mind wrestling with her heart. At long last, she nodded toward the jungle.
"You'd better go," she urged. "The Imp Ire, remember?"
He stared into the trees, then turned back to her. "Come with me."
She shook her head. "Fett, you're not even of this world. We could never work it out. It's impossible."
He picked up his helmet and replaced it. "Accompany me to Imp Ire. I will go with you to Lake Eerie. Then, once the battle against the Crypt Keeper is over… we can deal with this."
She hesitated, then stepped forward. "Very well."
He rested a hand on her shoulder as they walked on, silent, brooding. Fett had never been so torn. He had always been a master of keeping his emotions and logic separate. But now, thanks to the infernal magic of the love spring, mind and heart were tangled in all-out war.
Part of him wanted nothing more than to keep Phillipa by his side, be it remaining in Xanth or taking her to his galaxy. But another part reasoned that such an action was completely absurd and the best thing to do would be to visit the Good Magician and request a means of nullifying the spring's effects. Both sides had their arguments. Yes, it was about time he indulged his heart for once, but at the same time, if he was going to take on a partner, shouldn't it at least be human?
The ground right before them smoked as a bolt of energy impacted, and they halted.
"Freeze!"
Fett complied, more out of shock than out of obedience. For the smallest stormtroopers he had ever seen were surrounding them, keeping their guns trained on them. His motionlessness only lasted a few seconds, however, and he burst out laughing.
"It's not funny," Phillipa told him. "Imps are small, but they're superb fighters."
"Eh, we're used to being laughed at," one of the mini-troopers said with a shrug.
"Shut up, soldier!" barked his superior. "And you shut up, human. We won't bring a giggling idiot before the Imp-eror!"
That only made Fett crack up even more. Stang, this was the first pun that he actually enjoyed!
"Follow us," the officer ordered, resigning himself to the fact that his prisoner wasn't going to quit snickering. "And keep your hands in the air."
Phillipa gave him a disgusted look as they followed the imps. "What's so funny?"
"They look like… stormtroopers… from my galaxy," he replied, finally getting a grip. "Only smaller."
A smile touched her equine muzzle. "I forget you're not of Xanth. Yes, I can see how they would seem a little strange to you."
The imps led the way through the forest, passing through curse-burr thickets and sidestepping a vicious boxwood tree, until they reached what looked startlingly like a scale model of an Imperial Outpost. Imps were marching in formation, fine-tuning miniature TIE fighters and AT-ATs, and scurrying from building to building to pass messages. Fett frowned a little. They looked to be already preparing for war. Had they been alerted of the Horsemen already?
"Imp Ire is in the center of goblin territory," Phillipa explained. "They have to keep vigilant to protect themselves."
"Wouldn't it be easier to just pack up and move?" Fett asked.
She shook her head. "They're fighters; they're not giving up their hard-won home so easily."
The dragon-horse seemed to have stepped in and filled the long-vacant role of Companion for him. An effect of the love spring, of course – minutes ago, she wouldn't have given him the time of day. Fett felt a good deal easier now that he wouldn't be flailing blindly through the game anymore, though he still couldn't see how this arrangement would work out…
A quartet of scarlet-robed guards approached, escorting the green-skinned, black-cowled form of the Imp-eror. The diminutive monarch leaned on a gnarled cane and gazed up at Fett and Phillipa with a critical eye.
"These are the creatures we found in the forest, Your Highness," the officer told him.
"Thank you, Sergeant Imp Ressive," the Imp-eror replied, his yellow eyes still skimming over Fett and Phillipa. He seemed to go a shade greener when he made eye contact with Phillipa, but he maintained the tact to not gag or make a production of his sudden nausea.
"Well," he said at length, "you're not what we expected, but so few things occur as predicted." He extended a welcoming hand and swept it around in an all-encompassing gesture. "Welcome to Imp Ire, my friends. May I ask your names and lineages?"
"Phillipa, and I am dragon, centaur, basilisk, and unicorn," Phillipa told him, lowering her head respectfully.
"Boba Fett, human, son of the bounty hunter Jango Fett," Fett replied, bowing slightly.
The Imp-eror's brow furrowed. "Just a human? No demon or merfolk blood in your veins?"
"No, I'm not even from Xanth. Why?"
"Curious is all," the Imp-eror replied. "Though I shouldn't be so quick to assume. Chang Centaur did tell us that there were Mundanians living in his village at Lake Eerie…"
Phillipa snorted and reared, wings extending like great azure sails. "Lake Eerie? What business does the Imp Ire have with Lake Eerie?"
The Imp-eror's already seamed face wrinkled even more in an expression of puzzled concern. "Then you are not the representatives Chang Centaur and Wara Werecorn sent to finalize the alliance against the goblins?"
Fett hissed another curse, the ground at his feet blackening. The Imp-eror had mistaken them for legitimate visitors. And it was too late to bluff their way through this mess. The best they could do was hope the Imp-eror hadn't the temper or cruelty of the Emperor…
"They are not the representatives," announced a deep, serene voice. "We are."
Fett and Phillipa whirled as one.
Two more figures were entering Imp Ire. The first was a middle-aged centaur, his hair and tail snow-white and body dappled gray. A full quiver of arrows and a bow were slung across one broad shoulder, and his powerful build indicated that he was taking exceptional care of himself for one his age. The second was a blindingly-white horse with a silver spiraled horn twisting from between her eyes, her silver mane and tail nearly trailing on the ground and her deep brown eyes wide and innocent.
The Imp-eror bowed. "We did not expect you to arrive in person, Chang and Wara."
Phillipa trembled. Fett placed an encouraging hand on her withers.
"It was no matter," Chang replied. "We quite enjoyed the journey, actually. Lake Eerie is a pleasant enough place, but one appreciates a change in scenery every once in awhile." His gaze moved to Fett. "Who is this gentleman?"
"A traveler whom we mistook for one of your representatives," the Imp-eror replied. "We shall send him on his way at once…"
"Wait," the unicorn ordered – though she was no longer unicorn, but a white-robed woman with silver belt and headband and flowing white hair. Wara gave Phillipa a strange look, as if trying to place where she had seen the dragon-horse before. Phillipa glowered back, and Wara fell to her knees with a groan.
"Wara, my dear!" exclaimed Chang, bending to help her to her feet.
"I'm fine," she murmured. "Just… felt sick."
Chang smiled unexpectedly. "Why don't you sit down?" To the others he explained, "Wara and I expect a delivery from the stork shortly; that is why she's not feeling well."
"Not just that," Wara replied, though she beamed a little. "I've seen that creature before. And the fact that her gaze aggravated my sickness… she is Phillipa, the daughter of Darius Dracotaur."
The imps, who had gathered in a curious throng around them, whispered hurriedly amongst themselves.
Phillipa sighed. "You just had to rub it in…"
Fett stepped before Phillipa. "And what difference does it make if she is the daughter of Darius Dracotaur?"
"Darius was a sadistic, power-mad tyrant," Chang replied in a hard voice. "He abused both Wara and I for his own twisted pleasures. How are we to know that his daughter doesn't have the same tendencies…"
"She does not!" Fett barked, clenching his fists. "She wants nothing to do with her father's legacy! All she wants – all we want – is aid in defeating the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!"
Someone shrieked. Frantic whispering ensued.
"The Four Horsemen?" demanded the Imp-eror. "They can't be back in Xanth!"
"They are, Your Highness," Phillipa replied. "And we have come to ask for the aid of the Army of Imp Ire and the denizens of Lake Eerie in defeating their twisted cause."
Chang and Wara exchanged an inscrutable look. "Can you prove this?" Wara asked.
Phillipa hesitated. "We can't…"
Fett cut in. "A man known as the Crypt Keeper seeks to bring down the Interface between Xanth and Mundania. He has enlisted the aid of the Four Horsemen, who hope that the destruction of the Interface will mean the destruction of Xanth. The Good Magician has sent our company all over Xanth to seek out aid in defeating them. You can join us and save Xanth – or have its destruction upon your heads."
The Imp-eror stepped forward, between Fett and Phillipa and toward Chang and Wara. The three creatures conferred quietly, then the Imp-eror turned to address Fett.
"Under normal circumstances, of course, we would believe you. But from Anakin Skywalker we have heard tales of you, Boba Fett, many of them rather less than pleasant. And Phillipa… forgive us, but old prejudices die hard. We will need proof that the two of you are trustworthy."
"You expect us to PROVE the Horsemen are going to attack?" demanded Phillipa.
"We didn't say that," Chang replied. "We only want you to prove you are trustworthy, something your father was, I'm sorry to say, not. If you can satisfy our concerns on this matter, we may be able to help you."
Fett snarled wordlessly before replying. "You're incredible, Chang! This creature has been through more than you can imagine, and you treat her like a criminal!"
"We only want to ensure…" began the Imp-eror.
Fett plunged his hand into his pack, digging through the cherry bombs and withdrawing the flute. "I don't need to prove anything to you! I have this! It doesn't matter whether you condescend to help or not; if I play this, you have to fight…"
The Imp-eror's eyes flashed, and before Fett could react the flute was in his hands. "Where did you get this?"
"From Jenny Elf, in exchange for helping her cross the Gap Chasm."
The Imp-eror nodded once, satisfied, and gave the flute back. "Jenny Elf passed through our village some time ago. She was a sweet girl and an excellent judge of character. If she has deemed you worthy to possess the flute and use it responsibly, I am inclined to believe her. You have gained our trust, Fett."
"What of Phillipa?" demanded Fett, still enraged that they could hate her for something she had no control over.
"She has yet to gain our trust…" began Chang.
"You pompous…" Fett began, raising his flamethrower-arm.
Chang drew his bow and arrow at once at the sight of the threat.
"Fett, let me handle this!" Phillipa exclaimed, shoving past him. "I'm a big mare, I can take care of myself." She stood before the centaur, head high. "Chang Centaur, I cannot repair all the damage my father has done, but there is one matter in my power. At the behest of my father I created Lake Eerie when I was very young, making its waters so mysterious few in Xanth would know of its existence. If it pleases you, the lake can be drained, and I can create a new body of water, one that will allow more crossbreeds to find and settle your village."
Chang raised an eyebrow. "What sort of body of water would you create?"
"Whatever you desire – a healing spring, a Fountain of Youth, or a plain lake. The choice is yours."
Wara smiled. "Chang, she is sincere. Let us help her."
Chang hesitated. "Wara, we don't even know her. She could be plotting to trick us…"
"Chang, let go of your anger. Darius did hurt you, yes, but Phillipa has done nothing against us. Let us give her a chance. Besides, if Darius had never orchestrated your exile from Centaur Isle, you would never have met me."
Fett smirked beneath his helmet.
Chang sighed. "Phillipa, you have the aid of the crossbreeds of Lake Eerie in fighting the Horsemen. We would request, however, that you come to Lake Eerie at once and alter the lake before we leave for the battle."
She bowed, a relieved expression in her eyes. "Of course. Thank you, Chang and Wara."
The Imp-eror bowed. "It was a pleasure becoming acquainted with the two of you, Fett and Phillipa. And remember, Fett – the Army of Imp Ire is at your command. Simply play the flute, and we will hear and hasten to battle."
"May the Force be with you, Your Highness," Fett replied with a bow.
"You as well."
On the way back to the train, Wara leaned over to whisper to Fett. "So when did you and Phillipa become sweethearts?"
He stared at her, surprised. "What business is it of yours?"
"I just thought, the way you so heroically jumped to defend her, that there was a relationship between you two."
Fett snarled. "Love spring mishap. Once the battle is over…" He hesitated. "I'm not sure what we'll do, but we'll find some solution."
Her brown eyes softened with understanding. "Yes, love springs have been an endless source of tragedy. I know." She smiled encouragingly. "But perhaps it is for the best. As the Good Magician once told me, love is the most powerful form of magic in Xanth. Maybe your love can help you defeat the Horsemen."
Fett snorted. Whatever that meant.