Swell Foop
Page 11
"By no means! Puns are overflowing the pun-kin patch and polluting the land. Something needs to be done before we all perish of groaning."
"This backward fellow is Unpun," Catarrh said. "We hope to help restore him to life and humor, so that he can resume the destruction of puns. That is his talent, in life."
"Oh, Unpun, I could kiss you!" Lyn said. Then she reconsidered. "After you are no longer a zombie, of course." She smiled, hinting that this was not completely serious.
"Of course," Unpun agreed sourly, finding no humor in the situation.
"We must be on our way," Cassaunova said. "I trust you will wish us success."
"Oh, I do, I do!" Lyn agreed. "I hate it when puns gum up the works of my machines. I had a nice harvest reaper, until a pun made it a weeper and it cried until it rusted."
"A very sad event," Cassaundra agreed, though a trace of a smile hovered near her mouth.
"Completely unfunny," Unpun agreed.
They resumed travel, and soon enough came to another comic strip. "Now we shall have to enter this and search for the pun-kin patch," Cassaunova said. "The experience will not be pleasant, but must be endured."
"I have no intention of enduring it," Unpun said. "You enter the strip; I'll wait here."
"Of course," Cassaunova said, nodding at Catarrh.
Then, together, the three centaurs jumped into the comic strip. Unpun's scream resounded throughout the welkin, shaking the very sky.
A figure loomed before them. It wore a robe covered with planetary symbols. "Ah, I see you are in the proper mood for your horror-scope," it said. "Your fate is bound to be horrible. Let me cast your fates-"
They walked on by, but there was another figure there. She looked very sweet. "My name's Candi. Have something for your sweet tooth." She held out a box of candy.
"That does look nice," Ida said.
"Don't touch it!" Cassaundra said. "It will turn your teeth into candy. That's what a sweet tooth is, in the comic strip."
"Oh," Ida said, taken aback.
They went on by the sweet girl, and encountered an elder man. "Here are your berries," he said, showing an assortment of yellow, red, green, brown, black, and blue berries. "They will make you wise."
"They will also make you old," Cassaunova said. "Those are elderberries."
"What an awful idea!" Justin exclaimed.
"Well, this is the world of the idea," Ida reminded him. "And the section of it to make them foolish."
"We still have to locate the pun-kin patch," Cassaundra said. "These are mere distractions."
"I think we have no choice but to keep looking."
They looked. "There's something," Justin said. It appeared to be a giant flower.
They went toward it, but the closer they got, the smaller it became. By the time they reached it, it was tiny. "What happened?" Ida asked.
"Now I recognize it," Cassaundra said, disgusted. "It's a shrinking violet."
Unpun groaned again.
Something came running toward them. It was a giant eyeball with long skinny legs. It stopped and gazed intently at them. "What is this?" Justin asked.
"I'm not sure," Cassaunova said. "I haven't seen this particular pun before."
"It is the eye of the beholder," Unpun said. "I find no humor whatsoever."
"That is your irony," Cassaundra said.
"You should not have said that," Cassaunova said warily.
She put a hand to her mouth. "I forgot where I was! Maybe they didn't hear."
"They heard."
A group of small metal forms floated toward them. "We had better get out of here!" Cassaundra said, alarmed.
The centaurs leaped-but turned back toward the center of the comic strip. "Too late," Cassaunova said despairingly.
"Why didn't you leave?" Justin asked.
"We can't. Those are iron E's-they reverse whatever we try to do."
"Ironies!" Justin exclaimed. "Lovely."
"But won't they interfere with our mission?" Ida asked. "We can't accomplish it while being constantly reversed."
"Not so," Justin said. "They will enable us to readily accomplish it."
The others looked at him, evidently uncertain of his sanity. "You are aware of something we are not?" Cassaunova inquired.
"Merely common sense. We must strive our utmost to avoid the punkin patch."
"To avoid it?" Ida asked.
"Yes. We must get far away from it immediately. Now run; flee it."
"As you wish," the centaur said dubiously.
They tried to run out of the comic strip-and there before them was a big pumpkin patch. Or rather, the pun-kin patch. They had found it.
"Irony!" Ida exclaimed. "The opposite of the stated intent! I forgot."
"Irony brought us here," Cassaundra agreed, surprised. "We all missed it."
"Merely common sense, as I said," Justin said, a trifle smugly. "There is generally a way to accomplish one's goal, if one takes the correct approach."
"But where is Punny?" Ida asked.
They all looked, and saw only pun-kins of all different sizes. No people.
"She isn't here," Justin said, disappointed.
"But she must be," Ida said.
Then Justin got another idea. "Unpun."
"Leave me out of this!"
"Where do you want to go?"
"That way," Unpun said, pointing.
"So it must be the opposite way," Justin said. "Another kind of irony." He marched the opposite way.
But all he found was a pile of funny papers surrounded by tiny punkins. No woman.
Unless-
He picked up one of the funny papers. There was the cartoon figure of a woman. "Hello, Punny!" he said.
"Oh, you found me," the cartoon picture said. "I was trying to hide, because my life is not worthwhile without love."
"Your love is here," Justin said. "Give me the Ring of Idea, and I will restore him to you."
"But he's dead!"
"The Ring will restore him."
"So it can," the picture agreed. "But only if wielded by the chosen user."
"I believe I am that one."
"Oh. In that case, try it." The figure lifted her hand, where a Ring was marked.
Justin somewhat dubiously put his fingers to her paper hand and touched the Ring. To his surprise it came free, and was a regular physical Ring. He put it on his little left finger, and it fit comfortably.
But was it the real Ring of Idea? Did it have the phenomenal magic power attributed to it? He needed to be sure. "Unpun, let's see what this can do," he said.
For once the zombie did not balk. Justin approached him. "I am not sure of the protocol of operation," Justin said. "Do I invoke it, or what?"
"Just think of the Ring as you speak," Ida said. "Will it to make your idea real. Unlike my own talent, you can originate your ideas for reality yourself, knowing the Ring's power. It can make anything happen in this realm, and is not without impact in Xanth proper. Do not abuse its authority."
"I wouldn't think of it," Justin said. "But I think restoring Unpun to life should not represent an abuse."
"Definitely not," Cassaunova said, moving a forefoot to avoid a punkin that was sprouting beneath it.
"Very well." Justin thought of the Ring of Idea, and spoke. "Unpun, return to full life and humor, your talent complete."
Just like that, Unpun straightened up, his ragged clothing mending, his face and body becoming halfway handsome. The pun-kins around him sagged as if cooked, shrinking to mottled buttons. His talent was manifesting.
"Oh, Unpun, you're back!" Punny exclaimed, stepping out of the funny paper and becoming fully real. Except for her little hat, which remained paper. She ran to hug him.
"I'd rather have a paper doll," Unpun said, holding back.
"You can't be serious!"
"Of course I'm not serious!" he said, laughing. "You look hilarious in that stupid paper hat." But as he spoke, the hat warped and fuzzed out.
 
; "It must have been a pun of some kind," Punny said as she kissed him. "Oh, Unpun, let's go back to Xanth now."
"Of course."
Cassaundra turned to Cassaunova. "Isn't that just the most romantic thing?" she asked him.
"Yes."
She kissed him. "Let's carry these good folk wherever they're going, then see whether we can devise something similarly romantic."
The male centaur glanced at Justin. "By all means."
"We can depart from here," Ida said. "But there is something I must clarify first."
"There's a complication?" Punny asked, alarmed.
"Only a small one. What you just gave Justin is merely the soul of the Ring of Idea. There are no physical things here, merely their souls. The physical Ring is in Xanth, and it must be found so that Justin can wear it and use it."
"Another search?" Justin asked, discomfited.
"I'm sure you can readily find it, now that you have its soul. Simply maintain your awareness of it as we return."
"Gladly." Justin turned to the centaurs. "I thank you for your kind assistance, and-" He broke off, for they weren't listening. Catarrh had already departed, and the other two were kissing again.
"I think you started something," Ida said.
"Perhaps so," Justin agreed, thinking of Breanna. How he wanted to be back with her!
"Shall we return?" Ida inquired.
"By all means," Justin agreed.
"My body is in a closed chamber next to Princess Ida's room," Punny told Unpun. "I will come to join you the moment I wake."
"Now let your substance expand into mist," Ida said. "And orient on my body in Xanth."
Justin concentrated on diffusion, and soon felt himself dissipating. He expanded right out of the pun-kin patch, the comic strip, and the region of the surface of Ptero. He floated hugely over that world, like a cloud, and saw three other clouds similarly forming: Ida, Unpun, and Punny.
He looked around, and saw the gigantic head of Princess Ida, about which this whole world orbited. He went for it, still expanding. The other clouds paced him.
They came to their sleeping bodies. Three were in one room, and one in another room. But where was the Ring?
Then he felt a tingle at his diffuse finger. The soul of the Ring knew where its body was. That would guide him.
They reached their bodies and dived in. It took two and a half moments to recover full alertness.
"Oh, that was wonderful!" Princess Ida said. "For the first time I experienced Ptero myself! I must do it again soon."
Unpun stirred. "I must find Punny."
"And I must find the Ring of Idea," Justin said.
"This way, I'm sure," Ida said, opening a door.
In the chamber beyond was a young woman just sitting up. Unpun hurried to help her. Justin focused on his finger, and it guided him to the pallet on which the woman sat. Underneath it, in a clump of dust that had evidently been undisturbed for a long time, was the Ring. He picked it up, brushed it off, and put it on.
"Now do me physically," Unpun said, and Justin realized that he was a zombie again. So he quickly repeated his directive, with the Ring in mind, and Unpun made the same transformation he had on Ptero.
"Thank you," the fully living Unpun said.
Justin nodded. But privately he was amazed at the power of the Ring. It could actually restore a zombie! That was surely not the limit of its power. Yet it was one of six required merely to locate and control the Swell Foop. What a device that must be!
CHAPTER 6
RING OF WATER
Cynthia saw the others pairing off and departing, so she looked for her own zombie. She spied one sitting in a pool of stagnant water. She was female, according to her upper torso, but her legs seemed to be fused. A zombie mermaid!
Cynthia was mildly partial to crossbreeds, having become one herself, so she approached this one. "You know of a Ring of Xanth?"
"Yez."
"I am Cynthia Centaur. Who are you?"
"Zilche Zzombie."
"I was once human. You were a mermaid?"
"Yez."
"What Ring do you know of?"
"The Ringg of Washer."
"The Ring of Water," Cynthia repeated, getting it straight. "Where is it?"
"Ze pulsh ze zing."
Cynthia had to ponder that for much of a moment. Then she got it. "The pool's the thing?"
"Nosh eggazly."
Cynthia pondered again. "Or more precisely, the Brain Coral's Pool," she concluded. "The Brain Coral might reasonably be construed as governing the Region of Water, so that makes sense." She looked down at the zombie. "But that's still very general. I will need your help to locate its specific site. I will have to carry you. Let's see how that can be done."
She looked around, and spied some netting. It had probably been used to bring the mermaid here. She picked it up and fashioned it into a bag. She tied the bag to her body, so that it was against her right side: The mermaid could ride side-saddle. It would have to do.
"I will carry you to the pool," she said. "The trip will not take long, so your tail should not get too dry." She put her hands under Zilche's arms and lifted her up to the net bag. The zombie fit there comfortably enough, assuming that zombies were capable of discomfort.
Then Cynthia flicked them both, spread her wings, and took off. In a brief duration and two moments she was flying above the trees. She oriented, and headed for a little-known mountain.
"Wwhare?" Zilche asked.
"Oh, you are wondering how I expect to reach an underground pool by flying through the air? That is an excellent question. You see, I was confined in the Brain Coral's Pool for seventy-two years, ashamed of my condition, having been human for the first sweet sixteen years of my life. For most of that time I was unconscious, by my own choice, though on occasion I did circulate and make some friends among the other detainees. I noticed that there was an air pocket above the pool, and I wondered how it remained fresh. So later, when I was studying centaur information, I researched that, and learned that there is an air pipe leading from the pool to the surface. Very few folk know of it, but I ferreted out its location, and now I shall use it to descend to the pool." She was rather pleased with herself for finding a use for what had seemed to be useless information.
The flight was not as easy as she had hoped, because she encountered cross winds. They irritably buffeted her back and forth, so that she had to descend to tree level to avoid them. She came perilously close to a tangle tree, and even brushed its tentacles, but they did not grab her. That was a relief, but odd.
Then she saw that there were no bones around the tree. It was a faux tangler-an imitation, innocuous, but safe from predation because of its protective camouflage. Good for it! She made a mental note of its location, because if she ever needed a safe place to sleep in this area, this was it.
Then she saw a sign: SUN GLARE AHEAD. Sure enough, in a moment the sun formed a face and glared villainously at her. Fortunately that didn't last; once she got past that section, the sun returned to its normal favor.
She had gotten past the cross winds, so was able to rise back above the forest. That was really more comfortable. Had she had the magic talent of her friend Daniel, she would have been able to talk to the wind and have it obey her wish. But of course she would never trade that for her ability to fly.
They flew over one of her favorite regions: the retreat for centaur crossbreeds who were excluded from association with normal centaurs. They had made their own home, and their population was growing. There were centaurs with the bodies of felines, deer, zebras, oryx, and others; there seemed to be no limit to their variations, and each was beautiful in his or her own right. She waved and dipped her wings, and several of them waved back; they knew she accepted them.
She came to the obscure mountain, and circled until she spied the truly obscure peak that concealed the pipe: Pipe's Peek. She descended rapidly toward it.
"Crazsh!" the zombie exclaimed, alarmed.
r /> "By no means. Pipe's Peek is illusion, invisible from the air." She continued her descent, dropped into the surface of the mountain, and passed through the illusion into the air pipe. Now they were in a vertical tunnel, still dropping. Little illusion glow-worms lined its sides, so that it was easy to follow; the Brain Coral had taken this intelligent precaution to ensure that the air did not get lost.
Way, way down in the depths the air pipe opened onto the deep subterranean lake that was the Brain Coral's Pool. Cynthia felt two tingles and a twinge of nostalgia for this familiar locale. She had come here for oblivion when she thought herself transformed into a monster. But seven decades of consideration had reconciled her to her situation, and now she was happy to be a winged monster, and wouldn't trade it. In fact, straight human people seemed somewhat inadequate, with their small physiques and lack of wings, not to mention their limited intellects and hang-ups about natural functions. But of course she wouldn't say that to any of them; it would not be polite. After all, some of her best friends were human. She thought of Magician Trent, and that brought two-thirds of a tremor of wistful longing. She had had more than half a crush on him at one time, as had her friend Gloha Gobliness; he was a fine man, and extremely attractive in his rejuvenated state. Oh, she loved Che Centaur, she truly did, but if by some misadventure she were ever to find herself fully human again and alone with Trent, in some dark cave with survival uncertain, and no one would ever know . . . she would refuse responsibility for any consequences.
She landed on a little rocky beach and folded her wings. There stood a handsome oxlike antelope with a big nose. "Cynthia!" he exclaimed, recognizing her.
She sighed inwardly. This was another friend, Watt's Gnu, who was nice enough, but very nosy. He always had to learn of everything that had happened in the past day, and would not relent until he had it. But he didn't remember anything beyond a day. She didn't have time for that right now. So she did something a trifle unkind. "My friend Zilche will catch you up in just a moment." Then, to the mermaid: "Just tell him all about our mission."
Now how would she locate the Ring of Water? It would be useless to search for it by herself; the pool was larger than it seemed, and crowded with guests (few could leave by choice, but they weren't exactly prisoners), many of whom would not care to cooperate. The Sea Hag, who had escaped the pool last year, was not the only obnoxious denizen in cool storage there. She could search for half of forever before finding it. So she would have to ask someone. The Brain Coral itself was not much of a talker, but she had friends here. Who would be likely to know?