Jest Right

by Piers Anthony

  “You have tried before. I am eager to cooperate, but unless there’s a rose—”

  “No rose. Very well, I will return in a day or so, I trust.”

  “Please, Magnus!”

  “My mind is made up.”

  “Then take me with you.”

  He paused. “You feel that way?”

  “Yes! Whatever it is you have to do, I want to be there for you. To do it with you, if I can. I love you.”

  “I suppose that does make sense. Very well, we’ll go together. But there are aspects I won’t explain until the denouement.”

  “That’s all right. I just want to be with you.”

  “First we have to find a cilbup yraton.”

  “A what?”

  “A person who officially authenticates documents. They spell it backward in Mundania, but it’s the same thing.”

  “You have a document?”

  “I’ll write my own.”

  Jess decided not to question it further, since she was already pushing her luck getting him to take her along. “A document,” she agreed.

  “An important one. Maybe the key to the whole enterprise. It was Ira’s idea.”

  “The key,” she agreed.

  “Tata’s a yraton,” the peeve said, startling Jess; she had not realized it had joined them, but it was perching on her shoulder.

  “Good enough,” Magnus said. “Fetch him here while I write my document.” The peeve flew off, and he settled down at a table with a small parchment and quill pen. I, Magnus, hereby

  He looked up. “Privacy, please.”

  “Of course,” Jess said, trying not to feel hurt. What was he up to? She walked to the other side of the room.

  The dogfish trotted in. Magnus put the parchment down before his screen. “Can you eziraton that, please?”

  The screen blinked. Now the parchment had a little indented circle in its corner.

  “Thank you,” Magnus said, rolling up the parchment and putting it in a pocket. He came across to Jess. “No we have to go mountain climbing.”

  “Mountain climbing?” Jess asked blankly.

  “Well, I have to. To verify my change in status. But maybe it would be better for you simply to watch from the boat.”

  “I want to be with you,” Jess said firmly.

  “As you wish. I will try to help you.”

  “I can climb a mountain. I’ve done it before. It’s not hard, because mountains don’t take me seriously as a challenge.”

  “This one may.”

  “Which mountain is it?”

  “Mount Impossible.”

  “But no one can climb that, by definition,” she protested. “It’s impossible.”

  “Exactly.”

  She halted her protest. He was up to something, and she did not want to mess it up. “Mount Impossible,” she agreed.

  “Can I come too?” Myst asked. “I love mountains.”

  Magnus shrugged. “The three of us are like a family,” he said. “Come along.”

  Fibot sailed them there. It was deep in the heart of the Xanth wilderness where travelers seldom went. What was there to go there for? A mountain that could not be climbed?

  The boat stopped beside a mountain in the shape of a monstrous cone, with a ledge spiraling around it to the top. It really didn’t look difficult to ascend.

  “It’s deceptive,” Magnus said. “We’ll need staffs.” He paused. “There’s one other thing.”

  “Other thing?”

  “We’ll have to go bare.”

  “Bare?” Jess was feeling distinctly stupid.

  “Obviously folk could climb it if they had magic gear. So the rule is to bring nothing. Just us versus the mountain.”

  “Oh.” Well, why not? It wasn’t as if she had anything to hide from him, and if her bare body turned him on, so much the better.

  Myst clapped her hands. “I love bare!”

  They stripped bare, then stepped off the boat and onto the green bank of the mountain slope. The air was pleasantly warm, and there were no burrs or nettles. So where was the challenge of the climb?

  “But we can forage for things from the field,” Magnus said.

  “Yes.” She was privately disappointed that he neither stared at nor reacted to her exposed body. She knew she was no beauty, but she did have the requisite girl parts of her gender, and most men noticed that sort of thing.

  Then she remembered, yet again: he wasn’t taking her seriously. Why should he look? It wasn’t as if anything was likely to happen in the presence of the child.

  They foraged. Magnus found water moccasins, which were of course made of solid water. Cooled, it could have been ice, but it was too warm here. Jess harvested a pair of lady slippers, and Myst found child slippers.

  They came across a patch of jars sitting on the ground. Myst was intrigued. “Look—this one says North.”

  “North Jar?” Jess asked. “I don’t get it.”

  Magnus pondered half a moment. “They are urns. North Urn. There’s the pun.”

  Oh.

  “Here’s South,” Myst said. “South Urn.”

  At the sides of the patch there were two birds marked East and West. Jess focused and got it. “An audio pun. East Tern, West Tern. Is there a point to this foolishness?”

  “There often is,” Magnus said. “But what I’m looking for is a good staff.”

  They found a patch of poles that should make good staffs. Magnus put his hand on one—and it passed through. Jess tried another, with the same result. They were illusions.

  “Illusions,” Jess said thoughtfully. “If there are illusions here, some could be dangerous.”

  “Yes. Like the illusion of a safe path that actually masks a pitfall. That is part of what makes this mountain unclimbable.”

  Jess was alarmed. “Are you sure we should be doing this? You know I am already yours to take. You don’t need to brave any dangers for me.”

  “Oh, but I do. I need to prove myself.”

  “Not to me.”

  “Certainly to you.”

  This was a side of him she had not seen before. She wasn’t sure she liked it, but she did not dislike it.

  Well, she would try to help, in her limited way. “This may be like a challenge at the Good Magician’s Castle. Which means there’s a way. We just have to figure it out.”

  Myst laughed. “I wonder which one’s the north pole?”

  Was there a pun there? There had been for the urns.

  “Maybe that one,” Magnus said, walking across to a pole set at the north side of the patch. It was a fine solid one. He grasped it, and it was solid. “North Pole,” he announced, holding it aloft.

  “Well, now,” Jess said. She walked to the south side, where there was another fine pole. It too was solid. “South Pole,” she said as she took it.

  Myst zeroed in on a smaller pole in the center. It was solid too. “Tad Pole,” she said as she flourished it. She was of course the tad.

  They moved on, poking at the ground ahead with the tips of their staffs. Sure enough, they started discovering hidden holes in it. They had to step carefully. But in due course the invisible holes gave up, and the ground became as solid as it looked. Still, they continued tapping it with their staffs, just in case.

  There was an eerie howl or wailing. “Uh-oh,” Magnus said. “That sounds like a banshee. They sound off only when someone is about to die.”

  “It’s a bluff,” Jess said, hoping she was right. “Another kind of illusion, to scare us off. I’ll fend her off.”

  “Jess—”

  “My mind is made up,” she said with a certain naughty relish. She took her position between the other two and the wailing spirit, lifting her staff in a fending off pose.

  An old woman with wild hair float
ed toward them, still wailing. She was a banshee all right.

  “Is that so, you old spook?” Jess demanded.

  The woman paused in mid wail to look at her, surprised. Then she burst into a cackling laughter and disappeared.

  Myst clapped her hands. “She couldn’t take you seriously!”

  “Nobody takes me seriously,” Jess agreed. “Sometimes that pays off.”

  “Don’t ever change,” Magnus said.

  They went on. Now they were on the base loop of the flat path that spiraled up the mountain. So far so good.

  But then there came another kind of howling. “Uh-oh,” Magnus repeated. “That sounds like dire wolves. They’re from past history in Mundania. They won’t be dissuaded by your curse because everything is dire to them. I’m not sure our staffs will be very effective either, because there’ll be a pack of them.”

  “Maybe we should retreat?” Jess asked hopefully. She was catching on why this mountain was unclimbable. It had ways to discourage intruders. But as she looked back, she saw what appeared to be dinosaurs, another past history creature.

  “No way. There has to be an answer.”

  “What’s that?” Myst asked, pointing. She of course had no fear of wolves, as she could simply mist out and avoid them.

  “That’s it!” Magnus said. “The sword in the stone.”

  Jess looked, but was not greatly reassured. It was just an old rusty blade stuck in a crack in a rock, as if someone had wedged it there to get rid of it. She was closer to it, so she took hold of the handle and tried to pull it free, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Let me,” Magnus said. He put his hand on the hilt and yanked—and not only did the sword come up and out, it glowed.

  Magnus strode forward, wielding the shining weapon as the pack of wolves appeared. “Have a taste of this, beasties!” he cried, swinging it as if born to the sword.

  The wolves were huge and numerous, but they made skid marks in their hurry to halt. Magnus advanced on them, and they backed off, tails between their legs. In two and a half moments they fled.

  Magnus whirled and faced the dinosaurs, who were just arriving. “Your turn, lizards of yesteryear!”

  And the dinosaurs backed away, and soon were scrambling back down the mountain. Again, Magnus had conquered without striking a blow.

  “I didn’t know you were a swordsman,” Jess said, awed.

  “I’m not. It’s a magic sword that gives me power. It pretty much wields itself, once properly animated.”

  “So I see,” she agreed. “It was completely inert and stuck in the stone for me.”

  “You are surely worthy, but it couldn’t take you seriously.”

  “That must be it,” she agreed. But she remained amazed by the way the weapon had come to life in his hand. More was happening here than she properly understood.

  “Take my hand,” Magnus told Jess. “And Myst, you take her hand. We need to be in contact to complete the ascent.”

  “Like the Timeline!” Myst exclaimed.

  “Different principle,” Magnus said.

  They linked hands and marched on up the slope. Other monsters threatened, but dared not face the bright sword. In due course they achieved the summit, which was a slightly rounded glade surrounded by red, green, yellow, and blue berry bushes. It was very nice.

  “And it is done,” Magnus said, walking to another rock and plunging the sword into it. The blade returned to its thin rusty state, completely unimpressive.

  “But I thought nobody could climb this mountain,” Jess protested belatedly.

  “That’s right,” he agreed. “Nobody could.”

  “Stop teasing me! What happened here?”

  “I am Nobody.” He fished out the parchment he had had deziraton.

  Jess read it. I, Magnus, hereby officially change my name to Nobody.

  “You changed your name?”

  “Well, Magnus was always my stage name, and will remain so. But my real name is now Nobody.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Nobody could climb this mountain, so I climbed it. And—” He paused, waiting for her to catch up to it.

  A bulb flashed over her head. “Nobody takes me seriously!” she exclaimed. “And you’re Nobody!”.

  “Exactly.” He took her in his arms and kissed her. Now she felt his whole body reacting. He was taking her most seriously.

  “Oh, my,” she breathed, remembering that they both were bare.

  Magnus glanced at Myst.

  “Oh, I know,” Myst said with resignation. “The Adult Conspiracy. It follows me around.”

  Mairzy appeared, and sent them a daydream of two big hearts floating in the air. One looked male, the other female, though Jess wasn’t quite sure how that was done. The two came together, almost merging, and little hearts flew out and formed a ring around them.

  Myst reappeared. She misted out and floated away.

  “I didn’t know the mares remained,” Jess said, surprised. “I thought they had gone home.”

  “They like the adventure,” Magnus said. “They will probably go home when things get dull with the girls.” He looked at her, still holding her suggestively tight. “Now where were we?”

  “As if you didn’t know. Your body is pressed against mine and your hands are on my bare butt. I think we were about to get serious.”

  “Ah, now I remember,” he agreed. “Let’s get to it.”

  “Let’s,” she agreed eagerly.

  There followed a sequence that might have made even storks blush. Certainly the grass around where they lay had turned pink.

  “I have questions,” Jess said as they lay holding hands.

  “I thought you might.”

  “If your name change was effective, why didn’t you just take me immediately, instead of interposing the mountain?”

  “Ah, there’s the crux,” he agreed. “Magic is magic, but curses are hard to circumvent, especially in your case, where we want to keep the curse but make one exception to it. That really is modifying your talent, your magical nature, without doing you harm. I was also changing my own nature, to become that exception. Your curse is both physical and emotional.”

  “Emotional, yes,” she agreed. “It affects the attitude of those I encounter. But physical?”

  “What we just did was emotional and physical.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “So I had to abolish the physical complement without hurting you,” he continued. “So I took it out on the mountain, because it has a similar resistance to being approached. Once I had proved my case, vanquishing its curse, I was free to vanquish yours. Your curse knew then that it was lost.”

  “It was another finesse!” she exclaimed. “You showed your power, and my curse yielded rather than be forced.”

  “Exactly. I always knew you were smart.”

  “Still, couldn’t you have at least tried taking me seriously, without the mountain, just in case it did work?”

  “I lacked the nerve,” he admitted. “I was so afraid it wouldn’t work.”

  Just as she had been afraid that the paradox effect wouldn’t work to make them undeletable. She had thought it should, but that treacherous doubt remained. She did understand.

  She bopped him lightly on the shoulder. “Shall we get physical again?”

  “Why not.”

  This time they turned the grass completely red.

  When they were pleasantly exhausted again, she posed her second question. “That sword. Nobody took it seriously before?”

  “Nobody,” he agreed. “They thought it was a leftover from some Mundane legend, and maybe it is. But I knew its secret. It is powered by true love, and the phantasms of hate are unable to stand against it.” He kissed her again. “My love for you, Jess. It has finally been freed.”

&nbs
p; “Oh, Mag—” she started, then rephrased it. “Nobody loves me as you do.”

  “Seriously,” he agreed. They kissed again.

  Jess knew she was going to like her life from here on. She had the rings so she could visit Ira and Platina, and the Night Stallion’s token. If she ever got bored.

  “Is my butt really better than Em Pathy’s?” she asked teasingly.

  Magnus pretended doubt. “I’d better investigate.” He took hold. By the time he came to a decision, the grass was purple.

  In due course Myst returned. “Are you folk done with the mushy stuff?”

  “For now,” Jess agreed.

  “Then let’s return to Fibot. I’m hungry.”

  “So are we,” Magnus agreed. “But we have a trek to get there.”

  “No.” Myst became Mairzy, and leaped into the sky. In barely two moments she was back with the boat in tow. They boarded.

  “Congratulations,” Nia said. “We can see that now you take each other seriously.”

  “Solid mush,” Myst complained. “I had to go smell the flowers.”

  “When we finally grow up,” Squid said, “We’ll abolish the blipping Adult Conspiracy. Maybe that will squish the mush.”

  Lotsa luck on that, Jess thought.

  “Get dressed,” Win told them. “The village of trolls at the base of the mountain is demanding a show. Especially Atrocia. But the lady trolls want Magnus, too.”

  They laughed. “Then we must oblige them,” Magnus said, seriously squeezing Jess’s hand.

  And she was still Atrocia to the rest of Xanth. Jess couldn’t remember when she had been happier.

  Author’s Note

  I wrote this novel in the Ogre Months FeBlueberry, Marsh, and Apull. You know, when the Redberries are blue with cold, the rains turn the ground to mush, and they celebrate with a big messy tug-of-war as they prepare for the Month of Mayhem. I’m getting older, eighty-two at this writing, and can’t be quite sure how many more hundred thousand word novels I’ll be doing. But this one was fun in its fashion. It is more sexual than is typical of Xanth, because I tried to address issues like homosexuality honestly. Gay men do not hate women, they merely don’t care to romance them. Not all women are fainting flowers when it comes to men. I think it is time to recognize such things, though I know it will annoy some readers, who feel that even panty flashing is beyond the limit.