Breanna tried not to roll her eyes. “Three more.”
Terian dealt out the Four of Diamonds, Jack of Spades, and Eight of Diamonds.
“See, now the accordion is expanding again. We don’t do anything. Deal a couple more.”
Terian dealt the Three of Hearts and Seven of Diamonds.
2♥ 6♣ A♠ 4♦ J♠ 8♦ 3♥ 7♦
“See, still nothing. I hate it when they alternate like that. Sometimes I wind up with half the deck spread out. Anyway, the object is to finish with all the cards in a single pile. Two piles is a very good score, three or four piles is still credible, and beyond that is pretty much of a washout.” She grimaced. “I wash out a lot.”
They played the game on through, and sure enough, finished with nine piles of cards. They played again, and finished with five piles. A third game was fifteen piles.
Breanna was about ready to tear her hair, but refrained, because it was really nice hair. “Look, I can’t seem to win a game for love nor money, and I need to get on my way. Is there any other way I can get that zombie-no-see spell?”
“You are offering love or money?” Terian inquired.
Oops. “Not literally. It’s zombie love I’m trying to escape, and money isn’t much use in Xanth. I mean, is there any other deal I can make with you, since this one isn’t working out?”
There was the barest pause. “We are intrigued by these games. Find another person to play them in your stead, one who can play one through to victory. At that point we will give you the spell.”
“But how can I find anyone else, when I can’t even go out of this cave for fear of the zombies?”
“We will lend you the spell for that purpose.”
That was so logical that Breanna knew she would never have thought of it. “Okay. But how can you be sure I won’t just bug out?”
“Do what to what?”
Oops again. It did sound as if she meant to pull an insect from its hole. “How do you know I won’t run off to the Good Magician’s castle the moment I have that spell, instead of finding you another player?”
“You will do what you agreed to do.”
She realized that a machine had little concept of dishonesty. “Okay. I’ll go find somebody. Seems fair to me.”
Terian lifted her hand, and in it appeared a marble-sized globe. She gave it to Breanna. But as Breanna took it, it faded out. Had she somehow broken it?
“The spell is now part of you, and will carry through the night,” Terian explained. “If you are unable to find a suitable player by dawn, return here and we will provide another spell for the next night.”
Breanna hoped she could do it much faster than that. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, one way or another.”
She walked out of the cave. Almost immediately she saw the zombies milling about. Maybe they knew she was in the cave, and were waiting to nab her when she emerged.
She nerved herself and walked down the path toward the zombies. If they gave even the slightest, teeniest, weeniest sign of seeing her, she would bolt back into the cave as fast as her fine black legs would carry her.
But the zombies gave no sign of being aware of her. They seemed to be patrolling, shuffling back and forth, dropping putrid bits of themselves behind. Yuck!
She timed her route to pass between the two of them while they were both walking away from the intersection of paths. She got through, and was on her way beyond without their noticing.
Then she reconsidered. How did she know the spell was working? She might have slipped through on her own merit. She had better make sure.
She nerved herself again, and turned back. Now the two zombies were approaching each other on their route. She could see the route, because it was marked by blobs of decayed flesh. They were definitely on guard duty.
She walked toward them. “Hey, you rotters!” she called.
There was no response. The zombies shuffled past each other and walked on out toward the ends of their routes. So she went to the center and stood there, waiting for their return. She was terrified, but she made herself stand there. She had to know.
They turned and shuffled back. Their faces were blank masks of disgusting decomposition. It was a marvel they could see anything, with those putrefied orbs.
“Hey, foulface!” she called to one. “Can you see me?”
The zombie ignored her. He continued to shuffle toward her. She realized that they would collide if she didn’t get out of the way. So she moved clear, just in time, and the zombies passed behind her.
“Have you sheen anyshing, Seymour Bones?” one inquired of the other.
“Noshing, Rick R. Mortis,” the other replied.
Satisfied, Breanna proceeded on her way. Now whom could she find who liked to play cards? There might be a small problem, because no one in Xanth knew about cards. But surely many folk were bored, and this was a good treatment for boredom.
Another problem was the fact that it was night, which was her prime time but was sleep time for others. But there should be a few folk active.
Sure enough, soon she spied the light of a lamp, and by the lamp a young man was putting handfuls of dirt into a bag. “Hello,” she said by way of introduction.
“That is a pointless interjection,” he replied, not looking up.
“What is?” she asked, vaguely nettled by his attitude.
“Your stupid salutation.”
Breanna had never been a person to accept rudeness unchallenged. “Who says it’s stupid?”
“I do. I am Smart Alec. I always know a detail others don’t think of.” He paused reflectively. “I can’t think why I’m unpopular.”
“Gee, it sure beats me,” she retorted sourly. “What are you doing?”
“I’m collecting magic dust, as any idiot can plainly see.”
“That looks just like ordinary dirt to me. Did you get some in your mouth, to make you talk dirty?”
“I’m not talking dirty, I am merely making statements about the incapacities of others who evidently don’t realize how dull they are.”
Breanna had had just about enough of this. She was ready to blast him with some real information on dullness, but remembered her mission. Maybe he would like to play cards. So she stifled her justified retort and tried to soften him up for the kill, as it were. “Thank you for explaining about the magic dust. But how is it you know that this particular dirt is magic, and what do you want it for?”
“All dirt in Xanth is magic,” he said in superior fashion. “It is what carries the magic. It emanates from the center of Xanth, and slowly spreads out, and the magic diminishes as the dust thins. This is near the center of Xanth, so should be pretty strong. I’m going to take it to Mundania, where it should enable magic to be operative.”
“That’s a great idea!” she said, putting more enthusiasm into it than she felt. She had lived years in Mundania, and doubted that anything could budge its dreariness. “How would you like to play a great new game?”
Now at last Alec glanced at her, appraisingly. She wasn’t entirely easy with the places his gaze landed. “Very well. Take off your clothes.”
What a jerk! “Not that kind of a game. I’m only fifteen.”
“Oh. Then you wouldn’t know about that sort of thing.”
Actually she did know, but preferred not to tell him that. “This is a card game. It—”
“Forget it. I’m not interested.” He focused on his dust.
Irritated anew, Breanna walked on. If this was the kind of reaction she was likely to encounter, her quest was more difficult than she had believed.
Then she thought of a way to get something useful from this jerk. She turned back. “I’ll bet you don’t know who would want to play a card game.”
“Com Pewter,” he said, and ignored her.
Com Pewter. She had heard of him. He was a machine like Com Passion, who resided in a cave and could change his local reality. What better partner could she possibly find? Smart Alec had known the answer, and h
ad done her a huge if inadvertent favor.
But Pewter lived far away, south across the Gap Chasm, not actually all that far from her home in the Black Village. How could she get there quickly?
Well, maybe the same way she had gotten here. But first she had to prepare. Could Pewter’s activities possibly be construed as censorship? In Mundania that was the suppression of certain political, ribald, or otherwise objectionable speaking or writing, and it happened a lot. No matter how innocent or well meaning the expression, there was bound to be somebody who found it offensive and wanted to abolish it, dictating that only that particular person’s beliefs and expressions were truly free. In Xanth it was brought by the Censor Ship, a dread craft whose docking meant awful mischief for those in the vicinity. She recalled when the Black Wave had suffered some of its effect. They had managed to escape it, fortunately, but all of them remembered. That was why they had made it a point to get on good terms with the De Censor Ship. Wherever that went, it abolished the evil suppression of the other ship, and even nulled the dread Adult Conspiracy of silence. So the DC Ship wasn’t welcome in most quarters, because the Adult Conspiracy was almost universal in Xanth; even dragons and ogres honored it. But because the Black Wave had emigrated from Mundania six years ago, its elder children mostly knew the secrets, and weren’t affected. Breanna herself understood perfectly how to summon the stork. She just didn’t much care to do it yet, and not ever until she found someone really worthwhile. Meanwhile it was convenient to pretend that she was as innocent as a regular Xanth juvenile. The words “I’m only fifteen” scared off just about any pushy male. Except, unfortunately, one whose brain was rotten, like a zombie king. So she had no fear of the De Censor Ship, and in fact it could be useful on occasion. It was just a matter of proper management.
She concluded that Pewter’s habit of revising reality could indeed be called censorship, because he didn’t allow opposing folk to have their say. Therefore his activity should be of interest to the Ship. And that was all she needed.
She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Fee Fo Fi Fip—I smell Censorship!” she called.
Immediately the lights of a ship hove into view. It was magic, and could sail through land rather than water. That was because it was the opposite of the Censor Ship, which sailed on water.
“Hello there, Breanna,” a girl in a sailor hat called.
“Hello, Tsunami,” Breanna replied. Tsunami’s magic talent was liquidation, which was why she was a vital crew member. She could turn any solid to water, and back again. Without that, the ship would become landbound in a hurry.
“What have you found?” Tsunami asked as the ship sloshed to a stop beside Breanna. She felt the land making little waves; it was weird.
“I just realized that Com Pewter is guilty of censorship,” Breanna said. “I want to go there and remonstrate with him.”
“Then get aboard,” Tsunami said, rolling down the gangplank.
Breanna went aboard. The ship turned and picked up speed. It did this by using Nots: if it was Not here, it must be There, and so it moved there. But if the skipper said Not again, it had to move on to another there. It was said that a speed of thirty Nots could get it just about anywhere in a hurry.
Indeed, it was soon Not in northern Xanth, and was crossing the Gap Chasm. This was interesting, because it couldn’t cruse in air, so had to sail down the chasm wall, across the bottom, and up the far wall. “Not here, Not here,” Tsunami kept saying, and the ship kept gaining velocity in its hurry to obey.
Breanna spied a line extending across the chasm. “Why not use that as a guide to cross more quickly?” she asked.
Tsunami looked. “Oh, no, that’s a time line. Follow that, and it takes you back in time.”
Breanna nodded. “I guess we don’t need that right now.”
Tsunami looked ahead. “Ah, there’s Clappy. His reports are always useful.”
Breanna saw a nondescript man standing near the ship. “Reports?”
“Yes.” Tsunami called out to the man. “Hey, make us a report!”
The man clapped his hands together. Instead of a clapping sound, they made a report: “The weather is fair on this day.” He clapped them again and made another report: “The Gap Dragon is foraging at the far end of the chasm at this hour.” He clapped a third time: “Three kings are traveling to Castle Zombie to inquire what is stirring up the zombies.”
“I could tell them that!” Breanna exclaimed.
“Thank you!” Tsunami called, throwing Clappy a kiss. He caught it and bowed.
They sailed on up the far side of the chasm, then resumed normal travel across the land. “Oh, there’s a lady bug,” Tsunami said, pleased.
In a moment the lady flew low and landed on the deck. She folded her bug wings and her glossy shawl covered them. It was brightly colored, with spots. “May I ride with you a while?” she inquired.
“Certainly,” Tsunami said. “I love lady bugs. You are all so pretty.”
“Thank you. I have never sailed on a ship before. This is fun.” She looked around. “I am Lady Chelle.” But soon she tired of the novelty, lifted her shawl clear, spread her insect wings, and flew away.
“They never stay long,” Tsunami said, a trifle sadly. “Sometimes whole flocks of bird-winged humans pass by, but they don’t have much interest in sailing when they can fly. They can change into birds when they want to.”
Soon they were approaching Com Pewter’s cave. “Not beyond the cave,” Tsunami said, and the De Censor Ship sloshed to a sudden stop, making the land ahead of it form into a wave.
Breanna stepped off. “Thank you. I don’t suppose you’d care to wait while I deal with this?” She was concerned about getting back to Com Passion.
“I’m afraid we can’t,” Tsunami said with regret. “We just got another call, and must tend to it immediately. Nothing is more important than opposing the Censor Ship.”
“I understand.” She would just have to figure out another way, when the time came.
The ship turned and sailed back north, leaving a wake that caused the land on which Breanna stood to rise and fall gently. As the ship disappeared, the effect subsided, until the land was as solid and steady as it had ever been.
Then the ground shook in another fashion. Trees crashed in the distance, and monstrous footprints appeared, coming this way. Breanna remembered that there was an invisible giant who herded visitors into Com Pewter’s cave.
“It’s okay,” she called. “I’m going in to see Com Pewter anyway.”
The shaking stopped. “Oooga,” the invisible giant called, sounding like a fog horn. Indeed, a bit of fog drifted down.
“Right,” she said.
A hugely toothed creature loomed up before her. It wore a vest on which the word MEGA was printed. It roared and opened its mouth, ready to take a big bite from her tender flesh. Several similar creatures were beyond it, guarding the cave entrance. How could she get inside?
Then she caught on. “You’re mega bites!” she exclaimed. “For Com Pewter!”
Abashed at being fathomed, the creatures retreated. Breanna walked quickly by them, and entered the cave. She knew it might be hard to leave again, but if her mission were successful, Pewter would be glad to let her go. She hoped.
The cave was quite dark, and she liked that. She proceeded confidently until she came to the motley collection of junk that was the body of the machine. “Hello!” she called.
The screen lighted. PRETTY BLACK GIRL FAILS TO SCREAM AND FLEE, it printed.
“You don’t need to change my reality,” Breanna told it. “I’m here on business.”
This surprised Pewter. She could tell, because his screen blinked and went fuzzy for three quarters of an instant. BUSINESS?
“I think you are guilty of censorship, and I want you to stop it.”
The machine seemed to be set back. I HAVE NEVER BEEN ON A SHIP.
“I mean that you change reality, so that others don’t get their fair say. That�
�s what they try to do in Mundania. I want you to stop it at once.”
GIRL CHANGES SUBJECT.
That was exactly what she meant, but now she couldn’t say it. However, she wasn’t annoyed, because that was only her pretext for getting a ride on the De Censor Ship. She had made an honest attempt, and now could get on with her main business. “I have come to teach you a great new game.”
The screen formed an eye. The eye ran over her form in much the way Smart Alec’s eye had. I AM UNABLE TO PLAY SUCH GAMES, TO MY REGRET.
“Why do you males have only one thought in your head?” she demanded rhetorically. She had mixed feelings about such looks. On the one hand she resented being sexually appraised, as if her body was the only reason for her existence. On the other hand, she was pleased to be noticed. So her protest was a matter of form as much as substance. “I’m going to teach you a card game. It’s from Mundania, so you haven’t encountered it before. Do you have a mouse?”
A mouse appeared by her feet. “Eeeek!” Breanna screamed, stepping back. She couldn’t help it; surprise appearances of mice always set her off. She knew it was ridiculous, and that the mouse wouldn’t hurt her. In fact she had once had a pet mouse that contentedly walked and pooped on her hand. But her reaction was hard-wired. “Change form!”
The mouse was replaced by a troll. “That’s worse!” she cried, now more sensibly alarmed. “Trolls eat girls. Or worse.”
“Please, you misunderstand,” the troll said. “I am Tristan Troll, doing service as Pewter’s mouse. I never ate girls. In fact I got into trouble with my village for letting a girl go.”
His voice was very cultured and reassuring. Breanna decided to trust him, for now. It wasn’t as if she had much choice, if she wanted to accomplish her mission. “I’ll need you to deal the cards.” She glanced at Pewter’s screen. “Make the semblance of a table, and fifty two cards with symbols on them.” She described the deck, and soon Tristan was holding it.
In due course she had demonstrated the three types of solitaire, but of course succeeded in losing all the games badly. “I wish I could win one for you, so you know how it’s done,” she said. “But for now you’ll have to take my word that it can be done.”
Faun & Games Page 40