Chimaera’s Copper
Piers Anthony and Robert E. Margroff
Contents
INTRODUCTION
CHARACTERS
PROLOGUE
Chapter 1. Travel
Chapter 2. Summoned
Chapter 3. Tribute
Chapter 4. Amb-assador
Chapter 5. Chimaera
Chapter 6. Dupes by Default
Chapter 7. Squarears
Chapter 8. Battles Strange
Chapter 9. Fool's Return
Chapter 10. Sticky, Sticky
Chapter 11. The Berries
Chapter 12. Helbah
Chapter 13. Stapular
Chapter 14. Turnings
Chapter 15. Disappearance
Chapter 16. Charlain
Chapter 17. New Old Enemies
Chapter 18. Healings
Chapter 19. Revolutionaries
Chapter 20. A Meeting of Kinds
Chapter 21. Return Journey
Chapter 22. Apprentice
Chapter 23. Scarebird
Chapter 24. Army
Chapter 25. True Love Runneth
Chapter 26. Over
Chapter 27. Return
Chapter 28. Goodbye Again
Chapter 29. Antidote
Chapter 30. Defeat?
EPILOGUE
INTRODUCTION
This is the third novel in a fantasy series in which the inhabitants of alternate worlds are distinguished by the shape of their ears. In the first novel, Dragon's Gold, young round-eared Kelvin and his point-eared little tomboy sister Jon managed to kill a golden-scaled dragon and later save the kingdom of Rud and their father John Knight from the clutches of evil Queen Zoanna. In the process, Kelvin found love with round-eared Heln, and Jon with Lester Crumb.
In the sequel, Serpent's Silver, Kelvin's half brother Kian discovered an alternate world where most folk were round-eared, but it wasn't John Knight's world of origin, Earth. Some folk had flop-ears, and many folk were similar to those of the point-eared world, except that their characters were reversed. Here good King Rufurt was evil King Rowforth, and evil Queen Zoanna was good Queen Zanaan. Instead of golden-scaled dragons there were silver-skinned serpents. Again the forces of evil were finally thwarted---- but the mysterious Prophecy of Mouvar had not yet run its full course.
CHARACTERS
Mouvar— fabled roundear who made the prophecy and set up a chain of scientific transporters linking the frames
Queen Zoanna—beautiful, evil former queen of Rud in the pointear frame; lost in dark nether waters near the Flaw
Professor Devale— demon sorcerer and educator
King Rowforth—evil king of Hud, deposed. Analogue of good King Rufurt in the pointear frame
Queen Zanaan—the good version of Zoanna, in the roundear frame
Broughtmar—formeraideandtorture-mastertoKing Rowforth; a mean man
Zotannas—good magician,but little real magic; Queen Zanaan's father. Analogue of
Zatanas---- evil magician of the point-eared frame
Kelvin Knight Hackleberry—the unlikely hero of the prophecy, and thus of all the novels of this series
King Rufurt—good king of Kelvinia, a gentle and somewhat ineffective man
Charley Lomax—one of the king's guards
John Knight—traveler from Earth, stranded in the magic realm; father of Kelvin and Kian
Slatterly—another guard
Kian Knight— Kelvin's half brother, the son of John Knight and Queen Zoanna
Lonny Burk—girl of Hud whom Kian loves
Heln— Kelvin's roundeared and pregnant wife
Jon— Kelvin's younger sister. His ears are round, hers pointed. He sometimes calls her “Brother Wart” because she once posed as a boy
St. Helens—familiar name for Sean Reilly, Heln's father from Earth; once a soldier in John Knight's platoon
Lester “Les” Crumb—Jon's husband, son of Mor Crumb
Charlain—Kelvin and Jon's mother; wife first of John Knight, then of Hal Hackleberry
Hal Huckleberry—Charlain's second husband; a good but simple man, whose name Kelvin and Jon took
Easter Brownberry— Hal's girlfriend
Old Man Zed Yokes— river man who ferries others across
Phillip Blastmore— former boy-king of the kingdom of Aratex before it became part of Kelvinia
Morton “Mor” Crumb—former leader of a band that helped Kelvin overthrow the evil Queen Zoanna of Rud; now a general
King Bitler— king of Hermandy, one of the seven kingdoms
Chimaera—withthreeheads: Mervania,Mertin,and Grumpus
Dr. Lunox Sterk— Royal Physician of Kelvinia
Stapular— prisoner of the chimaera
King Kildom—boy-king of Klingland
King Kildee—boy-king of Kance
Helbah—old sorceress of Klingland and Kance, good version of Melbah of Aratex
Katbah—Helbah's houcat familiar
Bloorg— Keeper of the Chimaera and official greeter of travelers
Captain Abileey—officer in Mor Crumb's army
Captain Plink—officer in Mor Crumb's army
Captain Barnes—Lester Crumb's second-in-command
Grool— Bloorg's second-in-command
Squirtmuck—a froogear leader
General De Gaulic—Commander of the Army of Kance
Lieutenant Karl Klumpecker— mercenary officer from Throod
King Hoofourth—monarch of the kingdom of Scud
Bert—a guard at the transporter cave
Scarface Jac—outlaw of Scud, analogue of Cheeky Jac in
another frame, and of Smoothy Jac
Queeto—evil dwarf companion to Zatanas
Heeto— saintly dwarf companion to Zotannas
Smith—or a man by a similar name, member of Jac's band
Marvin Loaf—analogue of Morton Crumb
Hester—Marvin's son = Lester
Jillip—member of Marvin's band, analogue of Phillip
Corporal Hinzer—soldier in Lomax's camp
Redleaf— member of Marvin's band
Bilger—member of Marvin's band
Commander Mac—in charge of the Recruitment House; similar to Captain MacKay and Captain McFay
Trom—guard
Mabel Crumb—Mor Crumb's wife
Charles Knight— Kelvin's son
Merlain Knight— Kelvin'sdaughter
PROLOGUE
NIGHT
She knew where she was going, if only she could get there. She had prevailed on the foolish John Knight to bring her this far; now she had to go on alone.
She stepped off the raft and sank into the dark water. One arm was useless, but she could still move the other, and her legs. She swam as well as she was able, down, down toward the bottom, not even trying to hold her breath, for it would only buoy her body. The air in her tired chest squeezed out of her nose and mouth and bubbled up in a silvery stream toward the raft and the confused man. Let him go; his usefulness to her was done. The current would carry him into the dread Flaw.
She found the lock, and managed to drag herself into it. In a moment she came up in air, gasping. She sprawled onto a platform, and finally let
her consciousness fade.
Sometime later, in the dead of the eternal night that ruled here, a figure came. It was gross and masculine. “You have returned, Zoanna,” it rasped.
She roused herself. “I need your help, Professor,” she said weakly.
“I see you have broken bones. I can heal them. What will you pay?”
She struggled, and managed to turn over, so that she lay on her back. She spread her good arm, and her good legs, and smiled despite the pain.
The figure stared down, interested. It reached out to squeeze a breast, as if checking its freshness. “For how long?”
“I want-- I want to go to school, this time,” she said. “To learn sorcery. For as long as it takes.”
“That is long enough.” The figure heaved her up and carried her away.
MORNING
The wide man had once worn a crown. Now he wore only a torn robe and many bruises as he stepped from the transporter into the empty chamber. This was the world they had come from, he was sure. He had watched from concealment as they climbed the ladder to the ledge. Then he had followed, certain of what he would find: their gateway between worlds.
In the otherwise empty chamber on his home world he had not hesitated before using the transporter to follow. What was there for him at home, now, as a usurped king? Nothing but death at the hands of Broughtmar, his former aide, or some other disgruntled soldier. Or possibly at the hands of Zotannas, his queen's treacherous old father. If not death, certainly imprisonment, or life as an outcast. No, there was nothing there for him! Better to plunge boldly into something new, where his chances might be better and could hardly be worse.
Besides, there was something else. It was as if some mysterious impulse drew him along, as if someone were calling him. Someone he wanted very much to meet.
There was a subtle difference between this chamber and the one he had entered. The one on this world had no exit sign. It was cleaner and there were no dusty footprints on the floor. But the smooth sphere-shaped walls were similar, and there was the same magical radiance, that lit the machine and the table holding the parchment.
He hacked, coughed, and rubbed the bruises on his arms, legs, and face. What treachery Broughtmar had shown him! How he would like to go back and destroy the man. Well someday he might. Meanwhile, he could relax at night by dreaming up torments for his former torture-master. He had thought the man worshiped his master above all men and gods. It showed that no underling could be trusted.
He read the parchment:
To whom it may concern: if you have found this cell, you are a roundear, because only a roundear could penetrate to it without setting off the self-destruct mechanism.
I am Mouvar-- and I am a roundear.
But because the natives look with disfavor on aliens, I masked my ears so that I could work among them without hindrance. I used the technology of my home frame to set things straight, then retired, for it was lonely. I set up the prophecy of my return, or the appearance of any roundear, to facilitate better acceptance in future centuries. The tools of my frame are here, and you may use them as you find necessary.
If you wish to contact me directly, seek me in my home frame, where I will be in suspended animation. Directions for using the Flaw to travel to the frame of your choice are in the book of instructions beside this letter. Please return any artifacts you borrow. Justice be with you.
The man who had been king looked around and saw no artifacts. There was only the closetlike transporter, the table, the parchment, and the instruction book. He read the book. Phew! There was extraordinary power here! He could change the settings, and--
No, it was better not to tempt fate further. He wanted to leave no evidence of his presence at this time. Later, when he had a better notion of the situation outside the chambers, he might return and do something. All in good time. He was amazed at what he had learned already.
Smiling with satisfaction at the change in his fortune, he crossed the chamber to the big, round metal door. He pushed the lever. The door opened onto a ledge above an underground river-- a complete change from the high cliff at the entrance to the chamber on his own world. The surface of the water was eerily lit by luminous lichen on the rock walls. And there, as if specifically placed for him, was waiting one small boat.
Former King Rowforth of Hud, the kingdom in the other frame, smiled his crudest smile and clapped his big, powerful hands. Again he felt that mysterious influence, as if this had been prearranged. Ordinarily he would be suspicious of such a thing, but in this case he was thankful, because he suspected that it had saved his life and freedom. Maybe it was destined: he was fated to survive and dominate. If that smooth-skinned boy, Kelvin Knight Hackleberry, could claim a prophecy applied to him, why could not he, a legitimate king, have a preordained destiny? All his life he had believed himself destined to conquer, so why not here first, instead of his home world? Might he not eventually conquer all kingdoms in all worlds? The notion was intoxicating!
There came a kind of laughter in his head. Rowforth jumped. It was like his wife's voice, his queen, yet also quite unlike hers. This was the sound of victory and cruelty, while his wife was a submissive and kind creature, fool that she was. Insanity? No, surely not, for he was a king, and a king could not be insane. It had to be some kind of magic.
With rising excitement, the king launched the boat on the somber river, got into it, and applied himself to the oars. The wood handles, though splintery, fit his hands as well as those he had used at home. He put his back into it, eager to see what destiny had in store for him.
Ahead was a black, roaring falls with deep, deep darkness and stars and moving points of light. This was no ordinary night, he knew; it was the dread Flaw! He bypassed it, fighting the current. He knew he didn't want to get swept into that horrendous abyss.
He guided the boat away from the walls and out into the middle of the water as he rounded the bend. He was getting near to something now, and he was feeling it. He believed it would be his aid to destiny. His aid to conquest.
Suddenly he stopped rowing. He seemed to have no choice. What was guiding him?
He gazed down into the water, seeing nothing but his own bruised features. In this world there was a king who looked like him in a country not unlike Hud. That king, unlike himself, had pointed ears. He knew this without knowing how he knew it, or questioning its validity. Here in this world existed a king whose place he might take, if only he hid his ears.
He stood up in the boat, not knowing what he was doing, and peered deep, deep into the murky water. Nothing, not even fish. Only the dim reflections of himself and the boat, and the rock walls gliding by, illuminated by the lichen.
Yet again he felt that mysterious impulse. He took a deep breath and dived. Swimming competently, conserving his breath and energy, he stroked down. Truly he was in the hands of destiny, now.
He dived deeper, deeper, though his body was growing hungry for air. His arms and legs worked steadily, refusing to be halted by fatigue. Silvery bubbles floated from the corners of his mouth. Into a tunnel, its smooth walls coated with more glowing lichen. He had better be going somewhere, because no way could he turn, let alone reach the boat again before drowning.
Then up, up, and suddenly the water parted. Air! He gasped, his chest working like a bellows, pumping in the air. That had been close! Yet he had been guided, somehow.
As his panting eased and his vision cleared, he realized that he was in a chamber not dissimilar from the one he had recently left. There was a woman here, holding a crystal ball. She had very red hair, and eyes incredibly green. Zanaan, his docile queen!
But there were two things distinctly different about her. This woman had no bruises, and her expression was not at all submissive. Also, her ears were pointed.
Pointed ears? Zanaan?
AFTERNOON
Rufurt, king of all Kelvinia, rode his favorite mare to the ruins of his old palace. With him were two guards with whom he joked in what was hi
s unkingly yet customary fashion.
Leaving the road, he pulled up by the pile of crumbled, fire-blackened masonry. He dismounted just as if he knew what he was doing. Actually King Rufurt, though a hefty enough man, was the soul of innocuousness, and lacked any real force of decision. That, he realized with a certain mild reflection, might be why they considered him to be a good king. He seldom knew exactly what he was doing, but he depended on good subordinates, and they enabled him to govern the kingdom well.
“Stay here,” he ordered his guards, and walked casually away. The whim that had taken him was unusual, but perhaps he wanted to urinate behind a tree in privacy.
Around him were piles of ashes, blackened timbers, and the broken statues of former kings of Rud. Many a piece of once-valued art was buried here, though no one cared to recover it, remembering the history of this place. His evil Queen Zoanna had wrought horrendous evil here, and it would be a long time before that was forgotten.
Almost of their own accord, his feet carried him through the ruins. He went down the three flights of crumbling stairs. There, just as he knew it would be, was the underground river.
Standing there on the final landing, he remembered the words of an ancient prophecy:
A Roundear there shall surely be
Born to be Strong, Raised to be Free
Fighting Dragons in his Youth
Leading Armies, Nothing Loth
Ridding his Country of a Sore
Joining Two, then uniting Four
Until from Seven there be One
Only then will his Task be Done
Honored by Many, Cursed by Few
All will know what Roundear can do
To think the Roundear had come in his reign, and then in the unlikely form of someone who seemed to be but a boy: Kelvin Knight Hackleberry! Kelvin had saved the kingdom, and then saved it again. As the prophecy had foretold, he had joined two kingdoms. Rufurt still ruled, thanks to Kelvin, whose nature was almost as benign as Rufurt's own, but now he ruled more than twice Rud's former territory. The merged kingdom was called Kelvinia, after the boy, and Rufurt begrudged him none of that credit. But for Kelvin, Rufurt himself would probably be ignominiously dead now.