"Could be," Dor agreed. He glanced about. The others seemed interested in the discussion, except for Vadne, who was withdrawn. Something about that bothered him, but he couldn't place it.
"At any rate, we shall soon know. My power has been stretched to its limit," Murphy continued. "If I do not achieve the victory this day, I shall be helpless. I do not know exactly what form my curse will take, but it is in operation now, and I think will prove devastating. The issue remains in doubt."
The King returned with his mirror. "Let me see-how shall I phrase this?" he said to himself. "Mirror queries have to rhyme. That was built into them by the Magician who made this type of glass. Ah." He set it on the floor. "Mirror, mirror, on the floor-can we trust ourselves to Dor?"
"Corny," Murphy muttered.
The forepart of a handsome centaur appeared in the mirror. "That signifies affirmative," Roogna said. "The hind part is the negative."
"But many centaurs are far handsomer in the hind part," Dor pointed out.
"Why not simply ask it which side will prevail?" Murphy suggested wryly.
"I doubt that will work," the King said. "Because if its answer affects our actions, that would be paradox. And since we have been dealing with very strong magic, it could be beyond the mirror's limited power of resolution."
"Oh, let's discover the answer for ourselves," Murphy said. "We have fought it through this far, we might as well finish it properly."
"Agreed," Roogna said.
They ate more waffles, pouring on maple syrup from a rare maple tree. Unlike other magic beverage trees, the maple issued its syrup only a drop at a time, and it was dilute, so that a lot of the water had to be boiled off to make it thick enough for use. This made the syrup a special delicacy. In fact, maple trees no longer existed in Xanth in Dor's day. Maybe they had been overlapped, and thus this most magical species had ironically gone the way of most mundane trees.
The Zombie Master came in. Vadne perked up. "Come sit by me," she invited.
But he was not being sociable. "Where is Millie the maid, my fiancée?"
The others exchanged perplexed glances. "I assumed she was with you," Dor said.
"No. I worked late last night, and it would not be meet for such as she to keep my company unchaperoned. I sent her to bed."
"You didn't do that at your own castle," Dor pointed out.
"We were not then engaged. After the betrothal, we kept company only in company."
Dor thought of asking about the journey from the zombie castle to Castle Roogna, which had had at least one night on the road. But he refrained; it seemed the Zombie Master had conservative notions about propriety, and honored them rigidly.
"She has not been to breakfast," the King said. "She must be sleeping late."
"I called at her door, but she did not answer," the Zombie Master said.
"Maybe she's sick," Dor suggested, and immediately regretted his directness, for the Zombie Master jumped as if stung.
The King interceded smoothly. "Vadne, check Millie's room."
The neo-Sorceress departed. Soon she was back. "Her room is empty."
Now the Zombie Master was really upset. "What has happened to her?"
"Do not be concerned," Vadne said consolingly. "Perhaps she became weary of Castle life and returned to her stockade. I will be happy to assist you during her absence."
But he would not be consoled. "She is my fiancée's I must find her!"
"Here, let me query the mirror," the King said. "What's a rhyme for Maid?"
"Shade," Murphy said.
"Thank you, Magician," the King said. He propped the mirror in a niche in the wall where it was in shadow. "Mirror, mirror, in the shade, tell us what happened to-"
Dor's chair thunked on the floor as he craned forward to see the picture about to form. The mirror slipped from its perch and fell. It cracked in two, and was useless.
The Zombie Master stared at it. "Murphy's curse!" he exclaimed. "Why should it prevent us from locating the maid?" He turned angrily on Murphy.
Magician Murphy spread his hands. "I do not know, sir. I assure you I have no onus against your fiancée. She strikes me as a most appealing young woman."
"She strikes everyone that way," Vadne said. "Her talent is-"
"Do not denigrate her to me!" the Zombie Master shouted. "It was only in gratitude to her that I agreed to soil my hands with politics! If anything happens to her-"
He broke off, and there was a pregnant silence. Suddenly the nature of the final curse was coming clear to them all. Without Millie, the Zombie Master had no reason to support the King, and Castle Roogna would then lose its major defensive force. Anything could happen to further interrupt its construction-and would. Murphy would win.
Yet the harpies and goblins were gone, Dor thought Did anything remain that could really threaten the Castle? And he realized with horror that one thing did: the zombies themselves. They now controlled Castle Roogna. If they turned against the King-
"It seems your curse has struck with extreme precision," King Roogna said, evidently recognizing the implication. The issue was indeed in doubt! "We must find Millie quickly, and I fear that will not be easy."
"It was my chair that jolted the mirror," Dor said, stricken. "It's my fault!"
"Do not blame yourself," Murphy said. "The curse strikes in the readiest manner, much as water seeks the lowest channel. You have simply been used."
"Well, then, I'll find her!" Dor cried. "I'm a Magician, same as you are." He looked about. "Wall, where is she?"
"Don't ask me," the wall said. "She hasn't been here in the dining hall since last night."
Dor marched out into the hall, the others trailing after him. "Floor, when was she last here?"
"Last night after supper," the floor said. Neither wall nor floor elected to be difficult about details; they knew whom Dor meant, and recognized his mood, and gave him no trouble.
Dor traced Millie's whereabouts randomly, pacing the halls. A problem became apparent: Millie, like the others, had moved about considerably during the evening, and the walls, floors and limited furnishings were not able to distinguish all the comings and goings. It was a trail that crossed and recrossed itself, so that the point of exit could not be determined. Millie had been here at the time the Zombie Master sent her to bed-and not thereafter. She had not arrived at her own room. Where had she gone?
"The front gate-see whether she left the Castle," the King suggested.
Dor doubted Millie would depart like that-not voluntarily. But he queried the front gate. She had not exited there. He checked the ramparts. She had not gone there. In fact she had gone nowhere. It was as if she had vanished from the middle of the hall.
"Could somebody have conjured her out?" Dor wondered aloud.
"Conjuring is not a common talent," King Roogna said. "I know of no conjurers today who could accomplish this."
"The magic hoop!" Jumper chittered.
Oh, no! They fetched the hoop, still at its two-foot diameter. "Did Millie the maid pass through you last night?" Dor demanded of it.