A Sudden Wild Magic

“You must be the woman,” he said. “Damn it to hellspoke! I’ve lived ninety years and never troubled the gods, and they never troubled me. Now I get a whole spatch of them. I’m supposed to make sure you get to Ludlin to the king.”

“I know. Gods are like that,” Gladys said. “I’ve got to see the king and someone else on the way.”

“I don’t know about the someone else,” snapped the centaur. “The king was all I was told.”

“The other one’s bound to turn up,” said Gladys. “It won’t take us out of our way.”

“Women!” the centaur grumbled. “Can you get yourself on my back? I was told it was urgent, and it’s bloody miles to Ludlin.”

Tod, with a good deal of difficulty, managed to boost Gladys onto the centaur — who stood quietly enough but made not the slightest effort to help, which Tod thought was decidedly ill mannered of him. But then, this was a surly centaur. When Tod lifted the chittering Jimbo, too, and tried to put him in Gladys’s arms, the centaur shied irritably. “I’m not carrying that thing!”

“Yes you are,” said Gladys, “or you’re not carrying me. And we know what the gods would think about that, don’t we?”

The centaur shook both fists in the air, possibly at the gods, but he said nothing and allowed Tod to dump the ether monkey onto Gladys’s beaded knees.

“Good-bye, then, Tod,” she said. “I think I’ll see you again, but they gave me the idea you’ve got things to do now. It was nice meeting you, dear.”

“You too,” he said. He waved as the centaur leaped into a racking canter and bore her away across the field. It felt very lonely without her, odd as she was. Tod walked slowly in the opposite direction, wondering how on earth he was going to carry out what seemed to be his part in the gods’ plans. There was no centaur for him, evidently, and he did not even know whereabouts this was in the Pentarchy. It looked as if he was meant to steal another car — preferably one with a map in the glove compartment.

The meadow, though huge, did eventually end in a hedge, in which was a gate leading out into a deep country road. Tod let himself out into the road and stood between its hedges, wishing there were some means of telling where he was. The place was wholly devoid of landmarks— although, in looking for those, he did notice for the first time that it was spring here. Spring again, or spring still? Tod wondered gloomily. Have I been away a year? A week? Two years? When the gods leave you, they seem to leave everything low and flat. He was glad to be back in the Pentarchy, but this did not prevent him feeling as lonely and ill-used as he had felt in otherworld.

There seemed nothing for it but to start walking and hope to get a lift with a car or a cart.

Tod determined from the sun that turning right probably took him more southerly than turning left did, and he turned that way because it seemed to be correct. He had not gone more than a few steps when — joy! — he heard a car coming up behind. He spun around. It was a big old car, beautifully maintained, idling along with its top down. It looked to be a Delmo-Mendacci too, of all things, like Tod’s own cherished, beloved, beautiful vehicle. It was even the same shade of subtle green. The gods provide after all! Tod thought, as he stepped to the center of the road and waved.

Between hedges bright with new leaf and cow parsley in lacy drifts along them, the car rolled to a gentle halt a few yards from Tod. And behold! it was not any old Delmo-Mendacci! It was Tod’s very own car! Tod’s cherished Delmo that he had left under wraps in the garage of his father’s castle, with strict instructions that it was not to be touched — not by anyone—until he returned from service on Arth. Driving it was Tod’s mechanic, Simic.

The gods provide indeed! Tod thought. He found himself with both hands on the Delmo’s glistening square hood, leaning over the shining eagle on the end, staring grimly at Simic. Simic stared back. Tod saw it cross the man’s mind that he could simply drive on, let in the clutch and plow on over Tod — So sorry, Your Grace — devastated — terrible accident— wasn’t expecting — didn’t recognize the young master — thought him on Arth — squashed him into the road — meat jelly—

“Don’t even think it!” Tod said.

Simic had regretfully abandoned the idea anyway. He opened the door, jumped out, and became voluble, in one smooth movement. “Well, this is a surprise, sir! You may wonder what I’m doing, sir, but it is a fact — you know and I know, sir — that machinery deteriorates something dreadful if it lies unused, and so I took the liberty, sir, of giving this car of yours regular exercise, in the manner of a dog, sir, to preserve it, entirely with your own good in mind, sir—”