Man From Mundania

by Piers Anthony

  Mae's face seemed to catch fire. “What a wonderful thing!”

  Ivy turned to the old man. “Here is your next priestess, proprietor. You know she's a virgin; these Wild Women don't love men, they eat them. Put her on the tripod and she'll babble an incomprehensible streak you can interpret to your heart's delight.”

  “But she's a Maenad!” he protested.

  “But a tame one! The Magician tamed her.” She turned back to Mae. “He did, didn't he? You won't try to tear people apart anymore?”

  Mae was a Wild Woman but not stupid. “He tamed me! He tamed me!” she exclaimed. “No more Miss Nasty Nymph!”

  “But the Maenads are incorrigible!” the old man said. “That's why we have the Python! To hold them off!”

  Nada stepped in, in the perceptive way she had. “This one is different. She no longer fights with serpents or tears men apart. See.” She assumed her snake form, the large version. Mae, understanding, reached down to pet snake's head, though she did look a bit nervous about it.

  Then Nada resumed human form. “Now kiss the Magician without biting him,” she said.

  This really set the Wild Woman back. “Do I have to?”

  “Does she have to?” Ivy echoed, disturbed for a different reason.

  “Well, I suppose she might kiss the proprietor …”

  The old man stumbled back, terrified.

  “Point made,” Ivy agreed with resignation. “Kiss her, Grey, but don't enjoy it too much.”

  Grey did not look quite as upset about the prospect as she might have wished. He turned to face Mae, and she stepped into his embrace. They clinched and kissed, holding it a good long time.

  “See?” Nada said to the proprietors. “She is perfectly tame—affectionate, even. One might even call her lovable.”

  “Let's not go that far,” Ivy muttered.

  The proprietors were daunted by this display. “Perhaps she will do,” the old man said.

  “But let's stop that kiss before she gets un-innocent notions,” an old woman added.

  Ivy agreed completely. To her relief, they finally completed the kiss.

  Mae looked dazed, and the candle flames in her eyes were flickering. “Maybe I have misjudged men,” she said.

  “They—”

  “They aren't all like that!” Ivy said. “This one's a Magician, remember. Ordinary ones won't be worth your while. You don't have to eat them, just ignore them.”

  “Yes, of course,” Mae agreed. But she did not look entirely convinced.

  “Come with us,” one of the old women said. “We must clean you and garb you.”

  “Clean me?” Mae asked, alarmed.

  “They just sponge you off,” Ivy explained quickly. “It doesn't hurt. They just want you to look pretty for the Clients.”

  “Look pretty …” Mae repeated, glancing sidelong at Grey. “Yes, maybe that is best.”

  “Let's get out of here!” Ivy said briskly.

  Nada held her back. “One more thing.” She turned to the old man. “Is there a path around the base of the mountain we can use to return to our starting place?”

  “Certainly; all the Clients use it. Right that way.” He pointed.

  “Thank you,” Nada said, flashing him a smile. She was better at that than Ivy was.

  Electra led the way, skipping toward the indicated path.

  Ivy took very firm hold of Grey's hand and led him away from the ruins. Nada followed, the suggestion of a smile on her face. She reverted to naga form, as it really was best for windy paths.

  Grey had not spoken a word since the kiss. Ivy turned on him the moment they were out of sight and earshot of the ruins. “Well, why so smug, Grey? Did she make that much of an impression on you?” She was angry for what she knew was no good reason.

  Grey opened his mouth. Redness welled out. He turned to the side and spat blood. “I, uh, couldn't say anything, because if the blood showed they wouldn't believe she was tame.”

  Ivy stared. “She did bite you!”

  He found a handkerchief and dabbed at his lip. “Yes. I think it was involuntary, like a sneeze. She just couldn't get that close to a man without attacking, at least a little. I couldn't break the kiss until she let go. So I sort of concentrated and nulled her magic nature until she had to stop.”

  “So that was what made her so respectful!” Ivy exclaimed. “She felt your power!”

  “I guess so. I think she was sorry about it anyway. But she's been a Wild Woman all her life, and it must be hard to change right away, even if she really doesn't like blood.”

  So the Maenad had not quite lost her taste for violence!

  Somehow Ivy felt better. “You poor dear,” she said, abruptly full of sympathy. “Let me enhance your healing.” Since the wound was in his mouth, she touched lips—with her own. She enhanced the kiss, making him recover rapidly.

  Soon they resumed their walk along the path, holding hands again, but with better rapport than before.

  Chex was glad to see them. “We heard some commotion, but did not want to intrude,” she said. “Did the Muse answer your question?”

  “Not exactly,” Ivy said. “But we did learn that Grey does have a talent. It seems he nullifies magic, when he wants to. That explains a number of little mysteries.”

  “I should think so,” Chex agreed. “But are you sure? I saw no evidence of magic on his part before.”

  “Let's test it!” Electra exclaimed with her usual exuberance. “Let him try to stop you from flying!”

  “But I don't want to do that!” Grey objected.

  “Not permanently,” Ivy reminded him. “Just enough to demonstrate your power.” She didn't add that she herself needed reassurance about it. He had subdued the Python, but that might have been because the big reptile couldn't hypnotize Mundanes or maybe had trouble with men. He thought he had nulled the Maenad, but it might have been because continued close contact with him stirred certain natural, hitherto suppressed romantic urges in her.

  Could she, after all, be so emphatically a woman in every physical respect without having at least a little womanly passion? The glow in her eyes had been something, after she kissed Grey! But Ivy did not want to discuss such things openly. It would be embarrassing if she were mistaken.

  “It does seem like a good test,” Chex agreed. “Here, Grey, get on my back. If you can prevent me from taking off, I will know you have magic power to counter mine.”

  Grey climbed on in the awkward way he had. Ivy marveled that she found his clumsiness endearing, but she did.

  Grey was nobody's idea of a dashing hero, just a decent man.

  Chex spread her wings, braced herself for a leap, and nicked her tail twice. The first time the tip touched Grey, the second time it touched her own body. That of course was her magic: the flick of her tail made whatever it touched become light, so that her wings had much less weight to lift. That was why she was able to fly without having wings ten times as large as they were.

  Chex leaped—and stumbled. She came down solidly on all four hooves, a look of surprise on her face. “I can't get light!” she exclaimed.

  “I nulled your tail,” Grey explained. “Do you want me to reverse it?”

  “No. Let me try again.” She flicked her tail several more times, but with no better effect. “Indeed, there is no effect,” she confessed. “Very well, reverse it.”

  Nothing showed. Chex flicked her tail again—and suddenly floated into the air, her wings only partially spread.

  “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, frantically pumping her wings to get her balance.

  Grey hung onto her mane as they wobbled in the air.

  “Rebound!” he said. “All those prior flicks must be taking effect now, making you too light.”

  “Can you null me just slightly?” Chex asked, evidently fighting to prevent herself from sailing way up out of control.

  “I'll try.” Then she stabilized and came slowly to earth.

  “He has magic,” Chex announ
ced as Grey dismounted.

  Her mane was in disarray, and she looked flustered.

  “Rebound,” Nada said. “That must be why the Maenads' wine spring got even stronger than before when you canceled the null. That's some magic!”

  “That's like my magic,” Ivy said. “I simply Enhance, but you can enhance by rebound!” She was impressed by the demonstration; she trusted Chex's judgment. “But I wonder how general this talent is.”

  “See if it works on me,” Nada said. “Stop me from changing form.” She went to Grey and held out her arm.

  He took it. They stood there, doing nothing.

  “Well, go on, try to change,” Electra said.

  “I am trying!” Nada replied.

  “Oh.” Electra smiled. “Well, then, let her do it, Grey.”

  Suddenly Nada turned into a serpent with a human head at each end. “Eeeek! What happened?” she cried in chorus.

  “Rebound!” Ivy said, amazed. “Quick, Grey, null her down a little!”

  The heads disappeared. For a moment the serpent had no head. Then Nada's regular form appeared: the body of the serpent, with just one human head. “That was horrible!” she said. “I never had trouble with my natural form like that before!”

  Cheiron nodded. “Undisciplined magic is dangerous. We should cease these experiments until a safer program of testing can be established.”

  “Yes,” Grey agreed immediately. “I don't want to mess anyone up. I'm not used to having a talent at all.”

  But Ivy could not be satisfied yet. “They were calling you Magician.”

  “I never claimed to be that!” he protested. “The Maenads assumed—”

  “I am a Sorceress,” Ivy continued evenly. “That is the same as a Magician, only female, the terminology a vestige of what my mother calls Xanth's sexist heritage. Nothing short of Magician-level magic could null my talent. So let's find out if—”

  “I advise against this,” Cheiron said. Chex nodded agreement, and Xap squawked.

  “No, I really want to know,” Ivy said. She had always managed to get her own way, ultimately, and she intended to have it now. “I want to know if Grey is Magician level. Try to null me, Grey.”

  “I, uh, really don't think—” he began. Then, seeing her set face, he yielded. “But I'm not sure exactly how, uh, it would work.”

  “I'll try to enhance something, and you try to prevent me.” She looked around. Her eye fell on a glowworm just poking its head up as the evening approached. “I'll enhance that glowworm.”

  She picked up the worm. It wriggled in her hand, glowing faintly. Grey put his hand on her other arm. “Very well—I'm nulling you,” he said.

  Ivy felt nothing. She concentrated on the worm, willing it to brighten.

  It nickered, but did not increase its light. She concentrated harder, but it remained dim. She put forth all her effort. Then the glow brightened slightly. Grey had definitely crimped her style!

  “Now unnull,” she said.

  The glowworm flashed like a lightning bug, so brightly that the entire region became noon-lit. Then it exploded, burning her hand.

  They stared. The glowworm was gone; only ashes remained.

  “We killed it!” Grey said, appalled.

  Ivy looked at her smarting hand. “Oh, I wish I hadn't done that!”

  “Precisely,” Cheiron said, in a fools-heed-warnings-not tone. “Now we know that Grey truly is Magician caliber. No more experiments.”

  “No more experiments,” Grey agreed, staring at the ash.

  “No more experiments,” Ivy agreed. Then she started to cry. That poor glowworm!

  They camped for the night, subdued. They had found Grey's magic, and that was wonderful. It was Magician level, and that was amazing. They could now get married, and that was best of all. But they had done harm in the testing of it, and that was bad. Way too late. Ivy wished she hadn't pushed it. There had been no need to destroy the innocent glowworm. She just hadn't thought of the consequence, despite Cheiron's warning.

  In the morning, after breakfast, they discussed it—and came up with a disturbing question. It was Electra who posed it, but perhaps it had been in the back of the minds of the others too.

  “How can a man from Mundania have magic at all, let alone be a Magician?”

  There was the root of it. Something was fundamentally wrong, unless everything they knew about Mundanes and magic was false. Until that question was answered, they could not rest easy.

  Nada assumed her snake form, and they mounted their steeds and flew back to Castle Roogna. But Ivy knew that despite their seeming victory, it was not yet appropriate to marry Grey. Magicians did not appear from nowhere and certainly not from Mundania. She knew that her parents would insist on learning the truth, and she knew they would be right. Her quest with Grey was far from over; it had only changed its nature. It was as if they had climbed to what they thought was the top of Mount Parnassus, only to discover that it was only a ledge, and that the real peak remained as far above as ever.

  Chapter 12

  Pewter's Ploy

  “Please. Grey, I really didn't want to admit my ignorance there at the castle,” Rapunzel said in his ear. “I mean, I understand why you and Ivy need company on this trip, because betrothed couples aren't supposed to go too far alone together, and Nada and Electra didn't care to tangle with Com-Pewter again. But why are you going to see the evil machine?”

  Grey had not yet gotten used to having a tiny and beautiful woman perched on his shoulder and holding onto his earlobe with one doll-like hand. The parents had decreed that he and Ivy had to be chaperoned until they got married, which seemed to be their way of agreeing that the doubt about that marriage was gone. Ivy had met their ultimatum and proved Grey had a magic talent, with a vengeance. In fact he was now eligible to be king some day! But the parents shared Ivy's own concern about the origin of that talent. Mysteries abounded in Xanth and things that made no sense, but a mystery relating to the betrothed of a princess was a serious matter. So little Rapunzel and her similarly little husband, Grundy Golem, were the chaperones this time; size hardly mattered in this land of magic. Grundy was riding Ivy's shoulder as she walked on the path ahead, and evidently regaling her with remarks, because every so often she giggled.

  “Well, uh, it seems that this Com-Pewter is similar to a machine I had in Mundania,” he said. “Actually, what I had was a computer, and all I used it for was word processing—that's the Mundane term for writing papers. I would type on this keyboard—that's, uh, do you know what a typewriter is? Um, well, then, it's like a magic pen that sort of writes the words for you; all you have to do is touch the right keys, and it sort of saves the words and then prints, uh, writes them all in one big swoop at the end.”

  “Mundania must be a very strange place,” Rapunzel observed, kicking her feet. She had petite feet and very nice legs; he could just about see them from the corner of his eye. He understood that she had elven ancestry, so could assume the size of elves—or any other size, from tiny to huge—without changing her form at all.

  “Very strange,” he agreed. “Anyway, I got a new program for this computer—a program is sort of a set of instructions that tells it what to do, and—”

  “Oh, the way Queen Irene tells Ivy what to do?”

  “Uh, not exactly, but maybe close enough. This new program changed it a lot. It started talking to me on its screen, and uh, well, I guess granting wishes.”

  “That doesn't sound like Com-Pewter!” she exclaimed, tossing her hair. That was quite a trick, because her hair was as long as forever; in fact she had tied a hank of it to his pocket button as an anchor in case she should fall. The rest of it flowed out about her like a silken cloak. It was dark at her head, but faded to almost white at the end of the tresses, luxuriant all the way. Her eyes shifted colors similarly, depending on the shadow. “It doesn't grant wishes, it changes reality to suit itself.”

  “This, uh, program may have done the same thing. It, well, I
wanted a nice girlfriend. I really, well, I was pretty lonely, there by myself in my room all the time, not much good at anything, and—”

  Rapunzel stroked his ear with a duster formed from braided hair. “I understand perfectly. I was locked up in a tower for ages. If it hadn't been for my correspondence with Ivy, I don't know what I would have done.”

  “Yes, I guess you do understand! So the program, well, it claimed to have brought Ivy—”

  “But she was sent by the Heaven Cent!”

  “Yes. To where she was most needed—and I sure needed her! So I guess the computer was just taking credit for that when it wasn't so. But it must have known she was coming. And it did help; it made it possible for us to talk together. It was, well, like magic. Ivy recognized it as Com-Pewter. So when it turned out I had magic, she remembered that, and figured Com-Pewter must know something, so we're going to find out what it knows.”

  “But—but how could Com-Pewter be in Mundania?” she asked, cutely perplexed. He couldn't see her face, but the cuteness was caressing his ear like a warm earmuff on a chill day. Grundy was a lucky golem!

  “That is another mystery,” Grey admitted. “I thought it was a scientific program that accounted for the change in my computer, but now I recognize it as magic. So we have two problems: how can a Mundane have magic, and how can there be magic in Mundania? They may be linked, and surely Com-Pewter knows the answer to at least one of them.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “Now I understand. Of course you must ask the evil machine. But I hope it doesn't get the better of you.”

  “Well, I do have, uh, magic, now, and if I can null other magic, maybe I can null Com-Pewter. So we shouldn't have much to fear.”

  “But if the machine knows about you and helped put you in touch with Ivy, it may know how to handle you.”

  “Um, yes. I'd better warn Ivy before we go into its cave.” But Grey was not unduly worried because he knew that computers could not take any physical action. How could it stop him from just walking out, when its magic couldn't work on him when he didn't want it to?

  He walked faster, catching up to Ivy. “Hey, Rapunzel thought of something,” he said.