Jest Right

by Piers Anthony

  Jest Right

  A Xanth novel

  Piers Anthony

  Chapter 1

  Curse

  Jess saw that someone was already at the rest stop: a young man standing by the pond, about to remove his clothing so he could wash. That wouldn’t do; he might be seriously embarrassed to be discovered naked by a young woman.

  “Yoo-hoo!” she called, to alert him to her arrival.

  He heard her and turned. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Magnus. What’s up?” He had a nice voice.

  Now she got a better look at him: he was tall and handsome, with classic facial features, dark brown hair, blue eyes, and muscles in his arms. Exactly the kind she’d love to have take hold of her for naughty attention. She was attracted to him already. But of course it would never happen.

  “My name is Jess. I am traveling to see the Good Magician, and this is the last stop before his castle. I’d love to share it with you overnight.”

  He laughed. “No, really, who are you and what are you up to?”

  And there it was: her curse, right on schedule. She would have to try to explain. “I’m serious. But I am cursed to have nobody take me seriously. So even though you think I’m joking, please, please try to accept what I say at face value.”

  “I’ll say this for you, whatever your name is: you can make even straight lines come across as funny. It’s a rare talent, but it’s time to turn it off if we are to get along. Please answer my questions.”

  “I’m trying to!” she flared. “It’s the bleeping curse!”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Jess had had a long day walking along the enchanted paths. She was tired and more than ready to rest. It would have been so much better if she could have remained alone. But as it was, she was frustrated to distraction. “Bleep, bleep, bleep!” she swore. Then she collapsed in tears. It was not at all the kind of scene she wanted to make, especially before a handsome man, but she was overwhelmed.

  Then she felt his hands on her shoulders. He was gazing into her watery face. “You’re crying,” he said, surprised.

  Worse and worse. “Just leave me alone!”

  “I think I’m beginning to understand. You really are cursed.”

  “I really am,” she agreed, miserably. “Now let me suffer in peace.”

  He put his arms around her and brought her close. “I’m sorry.”

  What was this? He couldn’t be taking her seriously. But she was beyond common sense. She put her face to his shoulder and cried into his shirt. It might be the illusion of comfort, but it was better than nothing.

  “Let me explain,” he said as he held her. “I’m a showman. I put together entertainments. My talent is verisimilitude, the semblance of truth: that is, making it seem real. I’ve seen many acts, and I pride myself on being able to know reality regardless. But your curse caught me by surprise. It didn’t let me take you seriously. Even when you tried to explain. But I’m not stupid. My feeling says you’re joking, but my common sense tells me you’re cursed. I apologize for misunderstanding. I will try not to do that again.”

  Her tears faded. “You believe me,” she breathed.

  “I believe you,” he agreed. “Understand, my emotion thinks this is one big joke. But I do have a mind, and now I recognize and am trying to counter your curse.”

  “You’re taking me seriously.”

  “On the intellectual level. But that’s fragile.”

  “I had better get away from you before you burst out laughing.”

  “Yes,” he said seriously. “There are limits to my intellectual control, and your curse is pushing them.”

  She disengaged and stepped away from him. “Thank you for that much.” He gazed at her with compassion. “It’s easier when you’re apart from me. I was almost choking on suppressed laughter.”

  “I know exactly how it is.”

  “I was about to wash up, before it gets dark.”

  “I’d like to too.” Jess looked at the pond. “Is it safe? No water monsters?”

  “What, you think there’ll be a kraken weed monster in there? This is part of the protected area.”

  “That’s right,” she said, remembering. “And a kraken would be addicted to krack, and not all that dangerous.”

  “That’s a folk story. They’re plenty dangerous.”

  She sighed. “I had thought it was humor.”

  “Oh. I was trying too hard to counter your curse. But maybe we can use it. If I took you seriously, emotionally, I’d be mortified to have you see me naked, since you’re not my girlfriend. But as it is, maybe not.”

  “Maybe not,” she echoed, intrigued.

  Magnus stripped off his clothing, hanging it on a convenient deposi-tree, the kind that never filled up, and stood naked. He was a glorious figure of a man! Then he strode into the water, and soon was neck deep. “It worked!” he called. “My body thought it was all in fun, so didn’t react.”

  Now Jess was curious how far this could go. She had never seen a man without clothing before, and had no fear at all. In fact she wished she could be naked with him. Wished she could somehow get serious with him. It was a kind of personal challenge.

  Well . . .

  “Do you mind?” she called. Then without waiting for his answer she stripped away her own clothing, hung it on the deposi-tree and stood on the bank as nude as a nymph. She knew her figure wasn’t bad; the problem was that nobody took it seriously, either.

  He laughed. “It’s a game! Good thing I didn’t see your panties.”

  She hadn’t thought of that. The glimpse of a girl’s panties could freak out just about any man. “Should I put them back on?”

  He laughed again. “This is fun! I can enjoy your human form without frustrating you, since we both know this is only a game. But no, don’t put anything back on; come on in and swim, if you care to. The water’s fine.”

  She needed no further invitation. She waded in, and soon was happily swimming. “I’ve never done this with a man before.” But it was hardly the beginning of what she would like to do with a man.

  “I’m a fair judge of people,” Magnus said. “I have to be, to assemble my show. There’s something different about you, and I don’t mean your body or your curse. The way you look around, the way you disport yourself. Something about you appeals to me.”

  “Most men don’t like smart women.”

  “That’s it! You practically radiate intelligence.”

  “I try to conceal it. My curse is bad enough without that.”

  “I’m sure it is. But I am attracted to smart women.”

  “Are you teasing me?”

  “No. I’m serious. I’m attracted to that aspect in you. Unfortunately—”

  “I know.”

  “I think I can guess why you’re coming to see the Good Magician,” he said as she swam closer. “To abate your curse.”

  “You got it. And you?”

  “Far more mundane. I need to find a good assistant for my show.” Then he paused. “And suddenly I have an idea.”

  “Why do I suspect it’s not to kiss and stroke a bare woman in the water?”

  He laughed again. He laughed often and well, and surely not just when her curse prompted it. “No offense, but I can’t take that idea seriously at the moment.”

  “No offense,” she agreed sadly. The curse was firmly in place.

  “It’s that we just might be able to solve each other’s problems, and not need to see the Good Magician at all.”

  “Oh?” She was surprised.

  “I need an assistant to warm up the audience. To make the people laugh
. To divert them when I’m changing sets. You could do that.”

  “I could,” she agreed guardedly.

  “Also to do the incidental things I tend not to keep up with, like tracking the tent pegs.”

  “Tent pegs?”

  “I have to put up a big tent for the show. It’s traditional. I’m not very good at it, and that messes up the show. Women are better at that sort of thing.”

  “I could track tent pegs,” she agreed. “But it’s not what I want in life.”

  He gazed at her across the water between them. They were both standing in the shallower section now, with only their heads above the surface. “What do you want in your life, apart from abolition of the curse?”

  “A good man.”

  He laughed, then choked it off. “And. You. Are. Serious,” he said word by word, fighting his automatic dismissal of it.

  “Yes. I’d give him anything he wanted.”

  “If you abolished the curse, you could probably get a good man. You are not bad looking, and that’s what counts, for a man.”

  “Yes.”

  “Would I be the kind of man you want?”

  There was no point in trying to avoid the issue. She was finding herself seriously attracted to him. “Yes.”

  “I was afraid of that.” He raised his hands in the water in a gesture of surrender. “I mean no offense. It’s that with your curse—”

  “Exactly.”

  “But the thing is, I need you as you are. To make folk laugh. Which means—”

  “You can’t be my man.”

  “Not the way you want,” he agreed. “I’m sorry, Jess. I think we might make a fine show together, but not as a romantic couple.”

  “That’s right,” she agreed sadly.

  He pondered further. “Actually, we might even make a couple, if only—”

  “It weren’t for my curse. You can have me one way or the other. Not both.”

  “And you want both.”

  “Yes. But I will settle for one.”

  “I don’t want you to have to do that.”

  Jess laughed without a trace of humor. “You have an alternative?”

  “I may. But I doubt you’d like it.”

  “Let me have it.”

  “We might fake it. Pretend to be lovers. I could hug you as a joke. Kiss you as an act. Maybe even—”

  “I’ll take it.”

  He did a double-take. “What?”

  “I am so desperate that I’d rather have a fake romance than none at all. Especially with you. To be hugged and kissed by you, to be told sweet nothings by you, even knowing they are pretense. But I have to warn you . . .” She trailed off, unwilling to say it.

  But he understood. “You might fall in love with me. Not pretense.”

  “I’m already on the verge. You are the first man to take me seriously even to this extent, to understand me. To treat me as a person rather than a clown.”

  “You’re not a clown!”

  “Yes I am. A figure everyone laughs at. You too, of course. But behind your laughter you do care. You could fake everything with me, making me at least look like a girlfriend, at least to others.”

  “That would be utter cruelty. I wouldn’t do it. I’m not a sadist.”

  “I’ll take it,” she repeated. “I’m that desperate.”

  “Bleep, Jess—”

  “The traditional story is boy and girl meeting at the outset, suffering adventures together, and marrying happily at the end. This is a variant. If you want it, take it.”

  “But you know that all I really want is a competent assistant. That nothing beyond that is real. That I am only using you.”

  “Use me. Please.”

  “This is ridiculous!”

  “No, it’s my curse. Frankly, I’d rather be unhappy with you than away from you, and I think I could fool myself that I’m not really unhappy with you.”

  He paused, considering. “It seems that my choice is between cruelly using you, or cruelly sending you away. Both are abhorrent to me.”

  He was fundamentally decent. That made it worse. “I apologize for putting you in this situation. I know it’s not fair to you.”

  “Fair to me! What about you?”

  “I can still go to the Good Magician. Maybe he’ll have an antidote to the curse.”

  “And maybe he won’t. Then where will you be?”

  “With you or without you.”

  He considered again. “Let me try the fake. Maybe you won’t be able to stand it. That would be an answer.”

  “Welcome to try,” she said, hoping he would.

  “I am going to pretend I want you for something amorous, and want only to fool you into going along with it. Nothing I say will be the truth. It is all one big joke. If that doesn’t revolt you, then maybe it’s an option.”

  Jess smiled, this time sincerely. “Revolt me, Magnus.”

  He moved toward her in the water. “I want to be with you, you lovely creature.” Then he paused. “No, I can’t say that, because it implies you are ugly in reality, and that’s not true, so I’m not lying. You do look kissable and holdable, especially nude in the water.”

  “The lie,” she said firmly, “is that you want to hold and kiss me. How I look is irrelevant.” Could he actually do it despite the curse, phrasing it this way? She very much feared he couldn’t.

  “Yes, I suppose that’s right. On with the show.” He resumed movement toward her. “I love you, Jess. I want to kiss you and hold you and be naughty with you and summon the stork with you.”

  He was almost upon her. When would he burst into helpless laughter? “I, too,” she said. She was in no danger of laughing.

  He reached her. He put his arms around her as they stood in the water. He drew her in against him, torso against torso. She yielded gracefully so that their contours fit together with no space between. In fact she flattened against him. He put his face to hers. He kissed her. She kissed him back.

  Only one thing was missing. There was no manly passion in him. In this position it was easy to tell.

  “Maybe if you feel my bottom,” she said.

  He moved his hands down and did so. Still nothing. He was making the motions, but his body was not taking her body seriously.

  “Or kiss my breasts.”

  He took a breath, then moved down and did so. Still nothing.

  The curse remained.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and he wasn’t laughing. “You’d think that with a willing woman I’d be more ardent.” He was plainly embarrassed.

  Still, it was infinitely better than nothing. “Maybe if I try?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Try,” he agreed.

  She stroked his hair, kissed his ear, and then his lips, languorously. She took his hand and stroked her breasts with it. She lifted her legs, spread them, and wrapped them around his hips. It was easy to do in the weightlessness of water.

  They might as well have been children climbing on each other.

  “Bleep!” he swore, giving it up.

  “But the point is not whether you can make it with me,” she reminded him. “It is whether I can handle the pretense. I can. I’m not revolted, only saddened.”

  “That’s right,” he agreed, brightening slightly. “We can fake it.”

  “You can fake it,” she agreed. “I actually liked it, what there was of it. If you can handle it, so can I.”

  “You’re sure? Because I’d really like to have you join me in my show.”

  “I will join your show if you will regularly pretend to desire me in the way we just tried. That means, among things, kissing me and letting me kiss you. Spending the nights in bed with me, both of us bare. Letting me try to arouse you. Making others think we are a romantic couple. So that I can live with my curse. Deal?
”

  “Deal,” he agreed, bemused.

  “Then let’s get on with the evening, as a couple,” she said. “I think we are both clean enough now.”

  Now he laughed, and it was with her, not at her. “We were washing up!”

  “And we got distracted, making out in the water. Couples do.”

  He did not argue the case.

  They waded out of the pond, harvested towels from the towel tree, dried each other off, dressed, and harvested pies from the pie bushes for supper.

  “What’s that?” Magnus was eyeing a tree bearing small brown bottles.

  “One of those grows near my home village,” Jess said. “It’s a boos tree.”

  “Booze?”

  “Not exactly. I can’t explain it because you’ll think I’m joking. Try a sip.”

  He picked a bottle, uncorked it, and took a swallow.

  “Booo!” a voice yelled.

  “See, it’s a boos tree.”

  He nodded. “Now I understand. Like boot rear, only audible.”

  Then they heard something. “Is that a child crying?” Jess asked.

  “It’s off the enchanted path. It could be a spook.”

  Because there were myriad dangers in Xanth. The enchanted paths guaranteed security so that folk could get safely from one place to another, and wise folk did not stray far from them, if at all. Demons and monsters sometimes assumed appealing forms and tried to lure innocent people off the paths, to ravish them, consume them, or worse. Nevertheless, the two of them hurried along the path toward the sound.

  “But suppose it’s real?” Jess asked.

  “I don’t mean to insult you, but would a monster take you seriously?”

  “I doubt it. Nobody takes me seriously, and a monster is a body.”

  “Then maybe you could check it with less danger than I could. Ordinarily I wouldn’t let a lady risk it, but—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “If it attacks you, I’ll fight it.” Magnus had swept up a spear at the edge of the camp, evidently left there for just such a purpose.

  They came to the place. There behind a bush was the sound, close by. It was definitely a child crying.

  Jess forged off the path toward it. She saw a large animal grazing nearby, but recognized it as a gulli-bull, a harmless bovine that was very easy to trick. No threat there.