Xone Of Contention by Piers Anthony Page A

lovely, but Edsel did not trust that. He paddled around it, looking for anything suspicious.
    “Oh, come on,” Pia said impatiently. “I need to get steady so I can take my shot, use the toilet, clean up, and get the bleep off my feet.”
    Edsel didn't argue. Pia had to keep her shot schedule, which included checking her blood sugar. She had to have rest after exertion, or she would get out of adJustinent. It could be dangerous to mess that up. So he guided the boat to an inlet with a small beach and drove the prow ashore so it would be anchored.
    Pia stepped out first. He caught a glimpse of her high thigh as she lifted her leg, but didn't say anything. He still liked such views, though her legs were thicker than they had been. As her foot touched the sand, she paused, then completed her motion. Then he got out—and felt something like a mild electric shock as his shoe landed.
    “You felt it too?” Pia asked.
    “Yes. Static electricity?”
    “Must be.” Then she moved off to the bushes to handle her business, while he hauled the boat the rest of the way to the land.
    There was a cluster of what looked like stalks of straw sticking out of the ground. Edsel had a notion, so he picked one and bit on the end. Sure enough; it was a strawberry. “We have breakfast,” he announced.
    “Good. I'm famished.”
    He sat on the beach and chewed on the straw. He tried to conjure a solid illusion, but nothing happened. He tried again, and nothing happened again.
    Alarmed, he called to Pia; “How's your magic talent doing?”
    “I haven't thought of it since yesterday, when all it showed me was a walk along a wooded shore.?” Then she paused. ”Oh, no! I just realized that it's this shore. I thought it looked familiar, but didn't place it before."
    “But that makes sense,” he said. “You couldn't change that view— because it wasn't anything you were doing then that affected it. It was the spook in the night. If we'd said no to it, that would have changed our future.”
    She emerged from the brush. “That's right! Sometimes you remind me what I saw in you.”
    His cleverness in figuring things out, at least if they resembled computer programming in any way. His mind worked in flow charts, this leading to that, that leading to the other, and the whole process leading to a feasible process of software. "But I was a bit late figuring this one out.” he said ruefully.
    “I feel better anyway,” she said, stopping to kiss him briefly. He liked that too; she had friendly little ways. Of course they didn't mean anything, they were just social manners.
    “Have a straw,” he said, handing her one.
    She tried it. “Strawberry!” Then she looked as if she had just swallowed a pun. “And I just walked into that one. I think I could almost get to like Xanth, if it weren't for the abysmal jokes.”
    “They are more my speed.” he agreed. “Not for decent folk. But about your talent: what do you see for tomorrow?”
    She concentrated. “Nothing. It's not working.”
    “That's what I was afraid of. I think we've lost our talents.”
    “Lost our—how could that happen?”
    “I can't be sure, but my guess is that static electricity shock we got. Maybe this island steals talents.”
    “That's crazy!”
    “So is Xanth.”
    She nodded. “Point made.” She stretched—another gesture he liked. “But I've got to rest. Why don't you keep a lookout for Justin and Breanna while I sleep. Then I'll stand watch while you sleep.”
    “Okay.” The business of the talents bothered him, but he wanted to figure it out better before scaring her with his dark conjectures.
    She spied a pillow bush, harvested several nice pillows, and set them on the beach. Then she lay down on them, closed her eyes, and slept. She could do that much more readily than he could; in fact he had trouble sleeping in daylight, even when he felt logy. As he did now.
    He tried again to make a solid illusion, and failed again. It definitely wasn't working. So