Juxtaposition

called me Lady before, 'cause I'm just a girl.'

'That's more than I'll ever be,' Sheen said.

Stile had to interrupt. He had very little time. 'Brown, a troll rescued me from confinement, but he got turned to stone by the sun. Can you animate stone?'

'Oh, sure, some. But you know, it doesn't change the substance. He'd be awful heavy if thou didst not spell him back to flesh, and he'd crack when struck hard. I work with wood because it is strong and light, and the Lady Machine was pre-formed, so she was okay. But a stone troll-'

'I see the problem. I think I could turn him to wood, but I'm not sure about flesh.'

'Perhaps with the aid of the book of magic,' Sheen reminded him.

'Of course. That should do it.'

'Thou couldst just about create a troll from scratch,' Sheen pointed out. 'Make a figure, enchant it to flesh, have the Brown Adept animate it, and Clef could pipe a soul into it.'

'If we had a soul,' Stile agreed. 'That's the one thing magic can't generate.'

'I know,' she said sadly.

'My golems and the wolves have spread the word among all the creatures of Phaze,' Brown said. 'All but the goblins and monsters have joined. But they know not what to do now.'

'I wish I could tell them,' Stile said. 'I am the victim of a prophecy. I don't know where to tell them to go.'

'Well, maybe thou canst improvise,' Brown suggested. 'The troops will dissipate if not encouraged.'

'So the Oracle seems to think, though I hardly have time to-'

'Which means we must hurry,' Sheen said, enjoying this.

'And I thought Citizenship was uncomplicated!' Stile worked out several travel-spells, and they were off.

First stop was the werewolves. Kurrelgyre was there, but the Pack had been depleted by the wolves and bitches assigned to accompany the wooden golems. Kurrelgyre shifted immediately to man-form to shake Stile's hand. 'But this bitch - I know her not,' he said, looking at Sheen. 'Unless - could it be?'

'This is the robot-golem Sheen, my Proton fiancee,' Stile said. 'Thy suggestion was good; the Brown Adept animated her.'

'At least conjure her fitting apparel,' the werewolf said. 'She is too luscious a morsel to go naked hereabouts.'

Clothing! Stile had forgotten all about that for Sheen. Quickly he conjured her a pretty dress and slippers, as befitted a Lady of Phaze.

'But I can not wear clothing!' she protested. 'I'm a serf!'

'Not here,' Stile assured her. 'In this frame all people wear clothes.' He eyed her appraisingly. 'They do befit thee.'

'We are ready for action,' Kurrelgyre said eagerly. 'But where is it? Whom do we fight?'

'I know not,' Stile admitted. 'The prophecy decrees it that is all.'

The werewolf sighed. 'Prophecies are oft subject to misinterpretation. I had hoped this would be not that type.'

Stile agreed. 'The animalheads are prophesied to lose half their number. I fear this will be typical. I presume much of the damage will be done by enchantments hurled by the enemy Adepts, and by the ravages of their minions. But the other creatures of Phaze will be on thy side - the unicorns, elves, ogres, and such. Do thou gather thy wolves and be ready for action at any time. I know no more. I am but a chip afloat on a stormy sea, doing what I must do without much personal volition.'

Sheen smiled knowingly. This was a concept a robot was in a position to understand.

'Surely the enemy will seek to destroy thee,' the wolf said.

'The enemy Adepts have been trying! I hope to jump around swiftly in a random pattern, avoiding them until I return to Proton.'

'I fear for thee, friend. I have a few wolves left who can guard thee-'

'Nay, I'd best travel light. Just be ready with thy Pack when I need thee!'

'Aye, I shall, and the other wolf packs too.' They shook hands.

Stile spelled himself and Sheen to the next stop: the ogres. These ones certainly were ready for action. Each huge creature was armed with a monstrous club and seemed capable of smashing boulders with single blows.

This was a truly impressive army. There were perhaps four hundred fighting creatures in view.

As quickly as possible, Stile explained to the ogre leader that the moment for action was just about at band. 'But we don't know exactly where trouble will begin,' he said. 'Only that it will be terrible, horrible, violent, and bloody.'

Slow smiles cracked the ogres' brute faces. They were eager for this sort of fun. Stile knew he had struck the right note.

'Just remember,' he cautioned them. 'All the organized creatures of Phaze will be on thy side, except the Goblins. So don't attack elves or giants or werewolves-'

'Awww,' the leader grumbled. But he had it straight. No unauthorized bloodshed.

Stile spelled on to the vampires, where he consulted with his friend Vodlevile, who was no chief but whom Stile trusted. The flock promised to be alert.

So it went, touching bases with the animalheads, snow-demons, giants, trolls, and Little Folk. He did not go to the Platinum Elves, fearing an Adept trap there; instead he met with the gnomes of the Purple Mountains . These Little Folk were akin to the goblins of the White Mountains , but had elected to join the compatible elves. It was as if the more pleasant climate made them nicer creatures.

The gnome males were ugly, but the females, the gnomides, were quite pretty little misses, each holding a fine bright diamond. These were, indeed, the workers of precious stones, and their wares were even more valuable than those of the Platinum Mound Folk. They quickly agreed to pass the word among the elven tribes. 'There will be thousands of little warriors awaiting thy call to action, Adept. Only save Phaze, and all is even!'

Stile hoped he could! 'Dost thou know of any Adept presence in the Elven Demesnes?' Stile asked as he got ready to leave. 'I fear an ambush and marvel that none has occurred.'

'We know of none, and our prophecy book has no mention of harm to thee here, Adept,' the gnome chief answered. 'But Adepts are devious - no offense proffered.'

'Devious indeed!' Stile agreed.

'Surely it is the Lady Blue they will stake out,' Sheen murmured.

'Aye. Yet must I see her and advise the Herd Stallion.'

'Send me first, to spring the trap,' she offered.

Stile demurred, but she insisted. Conscious of the danger and of his vanishing time, he had to agree. He spelled her to the unicorn herd for two minutes, then brought her back to the gnome demesnes.

'No sign of trouble there,' she reported, seeming exhilarated by the excursion. 'Belle, the pretty unicorn mare, is there, asking to join the herd. They have not admitted her, but are considering it. Thy friend Clip is quite worked up.'

'He would be. He's smitten by her. No Adepts?'

'The Herd Stallion is sure there are no Adepts there, and no Adept magic in the vicinity.'

'Good enough.' Stile spelled the two of them to the herd.

It was as Sheen had said. All was peaceful. The unicorns were grazing in a loose circle on an open hillside, with Neysa remaining in the center. Stile and Sheen landed beside the circle, for magic was repulsed within it.

'May I go in and meet Neysa this time?' Sheen inquired wistfully.

Stile knew she identified with the unicorn, for Sheen and Neysa had been his two closest companions before he encountered the Lady Blue. 'I'll ask the Herd Stallion,' he said.

He asked, and the Stallion acquiesced with suitable grace. Sheen left them to enter the circle, while Stile briefed the Stallion. 'That's all I know,' he concluded. 'I conjecture that the Adepts will move in force when I try to transport the Phazite, perhaps sending dragons to interfere. Someone will need to intercept those monsters.'

'We shall be there,' the Stallion agreed grimly.

The Lady Blue had remained back until Stile finished with the Stallion. Then she came up to kiss Stile. 'So nice to meet the Lady Sheen again,' she murmured. 'She will make thee an excellent wife in Proton.'