Geis of the Gargoyle

by Piers Anthony

  They reached the chest, which was rising and falling with the quakelike fluxes of his breath, and concluded that this was close enough. “Are you injured?” Iris asked.

  “No, merely confused,” the big head-shaped space replied with a gust of warm wind that smelled as if it had crossed a burning landfill on a bad day. “I can't find my way out of this madness, so I'm resting. I'm Jethro Giant.”

  “We're a party consisting of a demoness, a gargoyle, a child, a Sorceress, and an ordinary man,” Iris said. “We're looking for the ruins.”

  “I lumbered through there,” Jethro said. “Just follow my footprints back.”

  “Did you see a veil?” Mentia asked.

  “It's not a vale, it's more like a plain. Will that do?”

  “Not vale as in vole,” she said precisely. “Veil as in maiden.”

  “Oh. No. No maidens there. It's too harsh for them.”

  “Aren't you going to try to make a deal?” Surprise asked.

  “Deal?”

  “For your information,” Iris clarified, grimacing toward the little girl.

  “Should I?” Jethro asked.

  “The dryad did,” Gary said. “We thought you would want us to find you a way out of here, or something like that.”

  “No, I will surely blunder my way out in due course, just as I blundered my way in,” the giant said. “Once I have rested and have my brute strength back. I will wait until you are well clear, so I don't step on you.”

  “Thank you for that consideration,” Mentia said. “But will you answer a question?”

  “I will make the effort,” Jethro said. “But my mind is not nearly as big or strong as my body or my breath, so I may be unable.”

  “Why are you so large?”

  “Why all giants are large. That's part of the definition.”

  “I know that. But my better aspect Metria has been around for centuries, and on occasion she has encountered invisible giants. She spoke with one fifty years ago, and he was only a tenth your height. Are you a giant among giants?”

  “Why no,” Jethro said, sounding perplexed. “I am the same size as any other invisible giant, as far as I know. We can't see each other, of course, but we leave similar-sized footprints. I was a lad of about forty fifty years ago, and I was the same size as my friends then.”

  “You're ninety years old?” Iris asked, surprised. “When were you delivered?”

  “In the year one thousand and one.”

  “That's when I was delivered! We're the same age.”

  The tremendous face must have been squinting. “No offense. Sorceress, but you don't look ninety-three. I would have guessed more like twenty-three. Or are you using illusion?”

  “No, I have been rejuvenated. But now that Mentia mentions it, I too have had some concourse with giants, and I remember that when I was in my maidenly forties, they stood about ten times the height of a normal man. But you must be a hundred times a man's height. How do you explain this?”

  “I must have continued to grow,” Jethro said. “Now that you mention it, I do seem to remember that trees and houses have gotten smaller than they used to be. But normally giants don't increase much in size after they reach their maturity. This does seem odd.”

  “Extremely odd,” Mentia agreed. “One of several odd things.”

  “There are others?” Gary asked.

  “Some. For example, the centaurs used to be slower living than straight human folk, so they would take about four times as long to fade out from old age. But now they seem to age at the same rate. And sphinxes faded out centuries ago, but now they are back as if they had never been gone. These are curious matters to explain.”

  “You are right,” Iris said. “I have lived long enough to remember. Things have changed.”

  “And the madness has expanded,” Hiatus said. “Could that be related?”

  “That's right,” Mentia said. “The madness seems to have been expanding for some time, but not prior to this century. All these changes seem to have occurred recently. I wonder why?”

  “If we could figure out why,” Hiatus said, growing excited, “we might know how to reverse the madness.”

  “It would help to pinpoint the time of change,” Iris said.

  “I think things were stable while I remained on the Isle of Illusion. But after I married Trent and moved to Castle Roogna, it was different. I never really thought about it until now.”

  “That is my impression,” Mentia agreed. “My better half wasn't much concerned about giants because they were invisible, but each time she encountered one, it was bigger.”

  “Was there anything special that happened?” Gary asked. “I mean, something that might have affected the whole of Xanth, like the Time of No Magic, or—”

  “The Time of No Magic!” Iris and Mentia exclaimed together.

  “That must have been it,” Jethro said. “That disrupted myriads of the old spells, and started the break up of the forget spell on the Gap Chasm so that now we can remember it. Who knows what else it did?”

  “Who knows, indeed,” Iris breathed. “All the men stoned by the Gorgon returned to life and returned to their wives—” Her jaw dropped. “And thereafter her talent matured some more, and she started stoning females as well as males. We thought it was simply a matter of competence with age, but now I don't think so.”

  “But could the Time of No Magic cause the madness to expand?” Gary asked. “That seems farfetched.”

  “Not if there were some ancient spell holding the madness in check,” Mentia said. “That the Time of No Magic wiped out, so that the mischief could spread. Since the madness is an effect of concentrated magic dust, that wider spread of dust could have had sundry effects, such as making the giants grow, or the centaurs to align with humans, or some talents like that of the Gorgon to intensify. It could have had scores of slews of smaller effects folk never really noticed. Because the changes happened gradually. The Time of No Magic was in the year one tenforty-three, fifty-one years ago, and those changes are still occurring. Who would notice a single year's change? But it seems it has been happening—and it may indeed represent the key to our dilemma.”

  “It may?” Gary asked. The demoness was now making so much sense that she was leaving him behind.

  “You started getting overwhelmed by Mundane pollution in the water in that same period, Gary,” Mentia said.

  “You need the philter so you can keep up. Your quest may be because of another consequence of the Time of No Magic.”

  It did make sense. “But the philter is only for water. How can we restore an unknown spell that confined the madness?”

  “That is what we shall have to find out,” Mentia said.

  “We shall have to hope that there is more in those ruins than your philter.”

  “They looked pretty bare to me,” Jethro said. “But of course I wasn't looking carefully.”

  “We shall have to look carefully,” Iris said. She faced the empty giant face. “Thank you for your valuable assistance in this matter, Jethro. You may have been far more help to us and to the Land of Xanth than any of us anticipated.”

  “Gee,” the giant said, pleased.

  They climbed down his arm and made it to the ground.

  Then they followed his huge tracks on into the heart of the madness. There were the usual weird effects and confusions, but Gary felt encouraged and knew that his companions did too.

  But the day was late, and this was no region to try to traverse in the dark. So they found a reasonably sedate alcove formed by wallnuts, and foraged for pies and juices, and settled down for the evening.

  Or at least they tried to. But this was the Region of Madness, and it couldn't leave them alone long. Surprise, tired from the day's events, wasn't bothered; she was floating just above the ground, sound asleep. But Gary and the others took longer to settle.

  The trees took on alien forms and seemed to nudge quietly closer, extending hooked branches. Gary thought it was his
imagination, until a branch tugged at his human clothing sleeve. He knew that branch had not been that close before. But he didn't say anything, so as not to make a fuss about nothing. This was no tangle tree, and was probably harmless.

  He removed his man-style shoes, which were pinching his human toes in the prescribed manner, and set them before him. They made two little sighs, and small gobs of vapor rose from them. “What is this?” he asked.

  Hiatus glanced at him. “Those are the souls of your shoes, of course,” he said. “They get uncomfortable with your weight on them all day, and only at night do they have a chance to relax. Let them be; they'll need their strength for tomorrow's trek.”

  “I didn't know shoes had souls,” Gary said. “I thought only creatures had souls.”

  “Shoes are special,” Hiatus assured him. “They have to work very hard.”

  “Actually, usually only human creatures have souls,” Iris said. “Or part-human creatures, like harpies or centaurs. The shoes must get their souls from association.”

  “Only human-related creatures have souls?” Gary asked, troubled. “Then what about gargoyles?”

  “Do you have any human derivation?”

  “Not that I know of?”

  “Then you must lack a soul.”

  “No, he must have a soul,” Mentia said in her rational way. “Because his shoes do. They could not get souls from association if there were no source.”

  “Well, he is in human form,” Iris said.

  “Form alone does not count. We demons can assume any form we choose.” She illustrated by becoming a toadstool, complete with a frog. The frog croaked with surprise and jumped off. “I'm supposed to be a toad,” it said with disgust.

  “The madness is interfering again,” Iris said.

  “Do demons have souls?” Gary asked.

  “We are souls,” Mentia said, resuming her normal form. “So we don't have souls. Not that we miss them.”

  “But what about your better half?”

  The demoness grimaced. “She did get half a soul when she married, and suddenly she had love, conscience, loyalty, self-sacrifice, and all the better human traits. It was disgusting. That's why I had to split. I am her soulless remnant. I at least remain demonly pure.”

  “But if you are souls, shouldn't you have the good traits?” Gary asked, shrugging away another branch.

  “No, all our energy is used just maintaining our existence,” Mentia said. “We don't have any left over for those awkward things. You have to have a physical body before your soul can get into the mushy stuff.”

  “What about the human/demon crossbreeds?” Iris asked.

  Mentia shrugged. “An argument can be made that they have two souls. Their demonly aspect is one, and their human aspect can have another. They might even be able to have two talents, because each soul can have its own talent.”

  Their eyes turned to the sleeping child. “I wonder,” Iris murmured.

  “No, she is not a demon,” Mentia said. “I would know.

  She is just a child with wild talents. She will surely be less interesting when she gets them under control.”

  “But her family will be relieved,” Gary said. This time he had to remove two branches that were plucking at his clothing. “Am I imagining it, or is this tree trying to grab me?”

  “It is trying to snatch your clothing,” Hiatus said. “Another has been trying to do the same thing to me, but I am discouraging it by growing warty excrescences on it. This twisted talent of mine still has its uses.”

  “Another has been trying for mine,” Mentia said. “But without success, since I am in smoky form at the moment.”

  “Snatching clothing?” Iris asked. “Eeeek! One has taken my blouse! It was so slow I never noticed.”

  “It is dark enough so that we can't see you anyway,” Hiatus said reassuringly.

  “But now I shall have to clothe myself partly in illusion,” she said, irritated. “And illusion isn't warm enough.”

  “I will try to find a blanket bush,” Gary said. “A blanket should help you.” Actually he was getting cold himself.

  “I'll help,” Iris said. A light flared, and Gary saw that she was carrying a lamp. It illuminated her slip-covered upper torso.

  “You conjured a lamp?” Hiatus asked, surprised.

  “No, this is illusion,” Iris explained.

  “An illusory lamp makes real light?” Gary asked, surprised in turn.

  “The light is illusory too,” she said. “Come on; let's find that blanket bush.”

  They stepped out by the illusory light, which spread widely enough to prevent them from walking into trees or holes in the ground. Gary decided not to question the matter further. He was afraid that if he did, he would no longer be able to see clearly enough to pick his way past the sharp stones and sticks that lurked for his tender bare human feet.

  There seemed to be no blanket or pillow bushes to be found. But Iris spied a low-lying cloud. “Maybe some of that will do,” she said, going for it.

  “But that's just mist,” Gary protested.

  “No, we haven't missed it yet. But it won't remain there long.”

  “Fog, I meant. Vapor. No substance.”

  “Not necessarily. Clouds can be solid enough to hold pools of water; only when they get tilted or shaken does it come down as rain. And this is in madness; that probably affects its nature.” She reached the cloud and caught hold of its substance with her free hand. Then she set the lamp on her head so she could use both hands. A big puff of cloud stuff came away in her arms. “Yes, this will do just fine. Help me get enough, Gary.”

  Gary put forth his human hands and touched the cloud.

  It felt like fluffy cotton. He pulled, and an almost weightless chunk of it came away from the main mass.

  He followed Iris back to the wall-nut tree. “I'll put mine on the ground, and we'll use yours for a cover,” she said.

  “We can't let go, or it will float away.”

  “I got this for you,” he said. “I will return for more for me.”

  “Don't be silly. You'll never find your way in the darkness. We'll share.”

  “But what about Hiatus and Mentia? Aren't they cold too?”

  “I don't think so,” she said. She lifted her lamp high, and he saw by its expanding light that Hiatus was now settled comfortably on a feather bed under Surprise, who was still sleeping while floating.

  “Where did that come from?” he asked. “And where is Mentia?”

  The bed opened a mouth on the side. “Don't be silly, gargoyle,” it said.

  The demoness had formed herself into the bed, he realized. Still, he had a question. “If your magic is messed up by the madness, how could you choose to do that?”

  “By trying to turn myself into a block of concrete,” the bed said. “Madness can be managed, when you understand it—and I, being a bit crazy normally, have not had much trouble relating to it, though I remain uncomfortably sane.”

  So Gary sat on the bottom puff of cloud, and found it quite comfortable. He lay back on it, and it was heavenly soft without yielding so far as to let him touch the ground.

  The cloud substance retained some of its daytime warmth, and he realized that it was probably better for this purpose than a blanket would have been.

  Iris settled beside him and pulled the other fragment of vapor over them both. Her body was warm and soft too, and very close. “But—” he started.

  “Oh, that's right—I left the light on,” she said. The lamp disappeared, leaving them in darkness. “Comfy now?”

  “But—you. aren't wearing anything, I think.”

  “There's no need to maintain illusion clothing in darkness,” she pointed out. “I will make a new illusion outfit in the morning, and perhaps use what remains of this cloud to fashion a new blouse.”

  “But your body is so close.”

  “Why so it is,” she said as if surprised. “However, allow me to remind you that I no longer need illusi
on to make my ancient bones appear young. I am physically twenty-three years old, which I believe is about your human physical age. We match rather nicely, I think.”

  “Match? For what?”

  “Well, we might start with a kiss on the ear,” she said, suiting action to word.

  Gary was so surprised he slid right out of the cloud cover and landed on the cool hard ground.

  “Oh come on,” Iris said, hauling him back between the layers. In the process her body got even closer than before.

  “What are you trying to do?” he asked.

  “Isn't it obvious? I'm trying to seduce you.”

  Gary was amazed. “To what?”

  She laughed. “Aren't you interested?”

  “No. I don't understand this at all.”

  There was a pause consisting of perhaps two and a half moments. “I have been so old so long that it is a real relief to be young again, in body,” she finally said. “What use is it to be young if you can't enjoy the potentials of youth?”

  “I don't know. What are the potentials of youth?”

  There was another pause, not as long. “You perhaps hesitate to indulge with a married woman? Let me assure you that I will never tell. This is purely passing fun, a private diversion.”

  “Indulge in what?” he asked, baffled.

  “In signaling the stork, you idiot!” she snapped.

  He began to get a bit of her drift, possibly. “The stork? But for that I would need a female.”

  “What the bleep do you suppose I am? A wall-rus?”

  “Why, you're human,” he said, perplexed by her vehemence.

  “Precisely. So what is your objection?”

  “I am a gargoyle. I have no stork interest in any other species.”

  “For pity's sake! You are in human form at the moment.”

  Gary remembered that it was true. “Still, I am really a gargoyle, just as you are really an ancient hag. We have no human relationship.”

  This time the pause was so many moments long that he lost track. He drifted peacefully off to sleep. He assumed that Iris did the same.

  * * *

  In the morning they foraged for grapefruit and passionfruit. The grapes were good, but Gary didn't eat the other.

  He remembered that the cloudbed he had shared with Iris rested on passion vines. That accounted for her attitude, he realized belatedly. He would try to avoid those in the future, so as to be able to get better sleep. It would have been nice had there been a girl gargoyle, though. Meanwhile Surprise conjured several livers, looked disgusted, and finally got what she wanted by trying to conjure the most loathsome liverworts she might imagine: she got a pun-kin pie and a honey-comb. She poured the honey on the pie and stuck the comb in her hair so it wouldn't flop around. Then she gobbled down the pie with an appetite that would have done credit to a goblin.