Phthor by Piers Anthony Page B

“Son, I have neglected you. Aesir was my son, and when he died it was as though I had no child. You were there, later, but you were hardly real to me. It is the same mistake I made when I clung to the minionette in preference to your mother. But now you are a man, and I know that though you came second, you are every bit as much mine as is Coquina. The second is not inferior to the first! I would not have you die.”
    Again, Arlo was amazed. This was the strongest expression of affinity he had ever heard from his father. And now he had heard the name of his lost brother: Aesir. And he had Aton’s admission that he had loved the minionette. But Arlo kept his voice steady. “I am glad. But how can I protect Ex from Chthon?”
    “Only as I protect Coquina. Tell Chthon you will not oppose it so long as your girl lives. Really lives, not a zombie! Chthon wants your cooperation, even as it wanted mine. In fact—” Aton paused momentarily, a strange expression passing across his face—”In fact, I suspect Chthon only wanted me here in the caverns so that I could beget a child. A human creature conceived, birthed, and wholly enclosed by the caverns. It is possible Chthon killed Aesir because he was not suitable for its purpose. Now you are here—and Chthon wants you whole. I don’t know why. But I think you can bargain. It would take many years to produce another like you—and I doubt Chthon wants to wait that long.”
    “Chthon wants me...” Arlo echoed. “It must be true. Chthon has always been my friend. Until Ex came.”
    Aton smiled. “Evidently Chthon wants no child from you! And certainly no corruption of your mind by any outsider. There is your bargaining point, perhaps. Tell it you will have no child by Ex and will cooperate as before no matter what she may tell you, so long as Chthon makes no further move against her. And repairs the damage already done.”
    “But I don’t know how to have a child—or how not to!” Arlo protested.
    “You’ll find out how. And Chthon can prevent conception, so long as the two of you remain here. I think it’s a fair bargain. See if Chthon agrees.”
    Arlo turned inward—and Chthon was there, his friend, as before. “Chthon agrees,” he said, wonderingly.
    Aton raised the eyebrow above his good eye. “Just like that!” He had no direct contact with Chthon and wanted none.
    Arlo looked at Ex, who seemed to be resting easier now. “What is conception?” he asked, suspecting it had something to do with the curious crease between her legs.
    Aton turned toward Sleipnir. “The girl is young yet. Do not force her. Let her recover, let her grow a couple of years. Get to know her well. If she is good, she will fill your life as Coquina fills mine. She will convert the animal into a man.” He climbed onto his steed.
    It came to Arlo that his father had to have known that Ex was coming: company for a boy who had not realized he was lonely. But Chthon had not agreed to the arrangement, and here was the consequence: the wolf’s attack.
    “You asked about the minionette,” Aton said. “When you go home, ask your mother. She will tell you as much as you care to know.” Then, to Sleipnir: “Any route home. I believe Chthon will protect us this one time.” And he was gone.
    Arlo felt Chthon’s confirmation. The god had known what Aton would say and do, and thus had permitted his visit to the gardens. This once.
    He sat beside Ex for a long time, mulling over what his father had said, watching to see if the girl got better.
    Finally Doc Bedside came. “So you have made peace with Chthon,” he observed. “Let me see to the child.”
    Now it was all right. Arlo let the man remove the vines and leaves and explore the great wound. “She has astonishing vitality,” Bedside remarked. “And marvelous good fortune. No internal organs ruptured, bleeding minimal, considering. A few stitches and Chthon’s beneficence will see her through, I suspect.”
    “But why did Chthon