The Color of Her Panties

by Piers Anthony

  "Didn't I see you here before?" Grey asked Jenny.

  "Yes. When I came to ask the Good Magician how to return to the World of Two Moons." Jenny laughed. "It happened to be Portrait day, and all five and a half of the Good Magician's wives were here for the occasion. They were all beautiful; I think each one was prettier than the others. But then I changed my mind, and decided to stay in Xanth for a while longer."

  "You have friends here," Ivy said.

  "Yes." That counted for a great deal.

  A maid brought in a huge shoefly pie, and served them each a slice. Jenny was glad to discover that the shoes were really pastry in the form of footwear, and their little wings were leaves of lettuce.

  "We expected three challenges," Gwenny remarked. "We were surprised."

  "One might even say dismayed," Che added.

  "Here in Xanth, so much is made of the Adult Conspiracy," Jenny said.

  All three of them waited expectantly.

  "We were surprised too," Ivy said. "But the Good Magician Humfrey always knows what he's doing. He said you had to be inducted into the Conspiracy, or he wouldn't be able to help you."

  "But we have such a simple Question!" Jenny protested. "I'll ask it, but it's for Gwenny. It has nothing to do with—"

  "When he answers it, you won't be able to benefit unless you belong to the Conspiracy," Grey said. "I thought it was strange, though things are more confused in Mundania and I'm not sure I agree with the Conspiracy any more than you do. But it seems that Gwenny must belong, and since you three are working together, you all must know. Humfrey said he wouldn't have done it if the matter weren't so important. There's no telling what harm this early knowledge may do to you. But the alternative is to deny you, Gwendolyn, your chance to be chief of Goblin Mountain, and that was unacceptable."

  "I suppose it would be hard to be chief without knowing such things," Gwenny said distastefully as the maid brought dessert: eye scream sandwiches.

  Jenny changed the subject. "Which wife does Magician Humfrey have now?"

  Ivy laughed. "She's right here! Didn't you realize?"

  Jenny accepted her sandwich from the maid. She peered at it, and its big green eye peered back at her. She wondered whether it would scream as she ate it. "No, I didn't see her."

  Sammy was rubbing against the maid's leg.

  "The maid!" Che exclaimed, catching on.

  The features of the maid changed. Her drab dress became bright, and her body turned buxom. Now Jenny recognized her as one of the beautiful Portrait brides. She could of course assume any likeness, so was as lovely as she chose to be. Jenny realized that this was probably an asset in a marriage. "Dana Demoness! I didn't know you in costume!"

  "You didn't recognize me as the Adult, either," the creature murmured.

  "Ooooo, so I didn't!"

  Gwenny squinted at the demoness. "How can Humfrey trust you, if you don't have a soul?"

  "Demons can be trusted to do what suits them. My husband knows that when I had a soul, I loved him, and I made him ludicrously happy, and gave him a son. When I lost my soul I left him, and then I was horribly bored. Now for a month things are interesting again. If I act soullessly, I will instantly lose my place to the next wife on the roster. So I act just as if I have a soul, for the sake of the game."

  "You had a son?" Che asked.

  "Dafrey Half-Demon. That was back in nine hundred fifty-four, a hundred and thirty-seven years ago. He grew up and married in the normal human manner, and had a son of his own, and bzzzzt! he was gone, having passed the soul on to his offspring. I lost track of him after that."

  "Nine hundred fifty-four?" Jenny asked. "That's a date?"

  "That's a date," Che assured her. "Don't you remember our history lessons? The year is now one thousand ninety-one, dating from the onset of the First Wave of human colonists in Xanth."

  "I guess I wasn't paying attention," Jenny confessed. "All those numbers—I never did get along well with numbers."

  "Perhaps you will learn to count the days of your year working for my husband," Dana said.

  "Maybe I will." For Jenny really did not relish that upcoming year. She would much prefer to remain with Che and Gwenny and the centaurs. But she would do what she had to do.

  "Speaking of which," Ivy said, "it's time for your appointment."

  Jenny got up. "Can—can the others come too?"

  "Yes. But they can't ask Questions."

  They followed Ivy up a winding stone staircase to a crowded little chamber. There sat the gnomelike Good Magician before a monstrous tome. He looked at least a hundred years old, though Jenny knew that he had youth elixir to make him as young as he chose to be. Apparently he liked this age.

  Humfrey looked up. "Well?" he said grumpily.

  "Ask him," Ivy whispered.

  "Wh-where can we find a pair of contact lenses for Gwendolyn Goblin to wear, so she can—"

  He probably frowned, though his face was so set and lined that it was hard to be sure. "There is only one pair available, and they are problematical."

  "We—she has to have them, because—"

  "In three respects. First, there is danger in their vicinity."

  "But there is danger if she doesn't have them!" "Second, they are in the realm of dreams."

  "In the gourd? But—"

  "They are intended for use by vision-impaired night mares. Herein lies the third problem. They will enable the wearer to see dreams, as the night mares do."

  "But that's not a problem," Jenny started. Then she had a second thought. "Bad dreams?"

  "All dreams. Including those in violation of the Adult Conspiracy."

  "Oh!" Gwenny exclaimed behind her.

  Now it made sense. Gwenny could not use those lenses unless she was in the Conspiracy. Anticipating this, the Good Magician had inducted her into it, distressing details and all. He had had to finesse it in a couple of ways, because he would have been in trouble if he had violated the Conspiracy by simply telling her. In fact, he had told her nothing; he had assigned the job to Dana Demoness, whose lack of a soul and conscience had enabled her to force the children to assume part of the dread mantle of Adulthood.

  "I will give you instructions so that you can enter the realm of the gourd and locate the lenses," Humfrey said. "Even so, you will find it difficult. The winged monsters will not be able to protect you there."

  "We'll do what we have to do," Gwenny said. "Thank you, Good Magician."

  Jenny turned to her, feeling sad. "I wish I could go with you. But now I have to serve the Magician."

  "Not till you help her get the lenses," Humfrey said. "Your year commences after the completion of your mission."

  "Oh, thank you, Good Magician!" Jenny exclaimed, delighted.

  "The route to the lens bush will be marked by mock lenses," Humfrey continued gruffly. "See that you do not lose the way, because they will fade out after you pass them. You must find them within one day, because after that we shall have to rouse you."

  "Rouse us?" Jenny asked.

  "We won't go physically into the gourd," Che explained. "We'll look in peepholes. When someone outside interferes with our line of sight to the peephole, we emerge."

  "But why only a day?" Gwenny asked. "It might take longer."

  "Because I promised your mother and Che's dam, who spoke also for Jenny Elf."

  The three exchanged a look which was a good glance-and-a-half long. So the parents had known about this! But it could not be helped; it was the only way.

  "I will show you to the gourds," Ivy said.

  Jenny looked again at the Good Magician, but he had already returned to the tome, having forgotten them.

  Ivy had set up a pile of pillows for them to lie on. There were four greenish gourds, their peepholes covered over with tape. They got comfortable, then linked hands. Jenny held on to Sammy's paw. They had to be touching when they entered, or they would find themselves in different settings. Ivy checked the alignments, making sure that each of thei
r heads were braced right before the peepholes. "Are you ready?" she asked.

  They agreed they were ready. Jenny tried to conceal her apprehension; she had never done this before, and dreaded it. But she wouldn't leave her friends to face it alone, now that the Good Magician had given her the chance to be with them. At the same time, she was afraid it wouldn't work. What kind of sense did it make to enter into a growing gourd, without one's body?

  Ivy pulled the tape from Gwenny's gourd. Gwenny looked, and froze, fascinated. Then Ivy did the same for Che's gourd, and Che also froze. Finally she came to Jenny's gourd. Just then Jenny had a perilous thought: how could dream lenses do the physical Gwenny any good? Surely they would be left in the dream realm when Gwenny woke. All this might be for nothing! She opened her mouth to say something to Ivy.

  But as she did so, her eye saw the exposed peephole—and she found herself in a chamber with a flat floor and a deep drop-off ahead. Alarmed, she stepped back, and banged into Che. Then she saw Sammy pop into existence beside her.

  "We're all here," Gwenny said, sounding relieved. "I was so nervous when I arrived here alone, but then Che appeared, but then it seemed like forever before you came."

  Jenny decided not to voice her doubt. What was the point, at this stage? She would just have to hope that the Good Magician had taken this into account, and that the lenses would work in the real world as well as in the gourd. After all, the night mares operated outside the gourd; that was where they needed to see the dreams they brought, to be sure they were working properly.

  "All three of us," Che agreed, also sounding relieved. Jenny remembered that however mature he might seem, because he was a centaur, he remained only his real age of seven emotionally.

  Suddenly there was a crowd of people in the chamber. Jenny stared. They weren't just any people; they were Gwenny and Che. Three of each. And two others—who she realized were elves. Jenny Elves! There were three of her, too! And three cats.

  They exchanged a nine-way glance. Then one of the Gwennys blinked. "I'm looking twice, but I still—"

  "See another me," a new Gwenny exclaimed, chiming in. Now there were four Gwennys.

  "I'm looking tw—" Jenny started. But before she could finish saying "twice too," one Che interrupted her.

  "Don't say any more!" he cried. "This is a multiplication table!"

  Jenny shut her mouth. She had never trusted multiplication tables; indeed, the whole subject of math was somewhat alien to her. But she had not thought that it worked quite this way. She could see that the two other Jennys and all three Sammy Cats were just as confused.

  "Look," another Che added, pointing to the drop-off. "That is the edge of the table. See the corners, and the other sides."

  The three Jennys looked, and sure enough, it was one big table, of the scale that would have been suitable for the huge Adult in the Good Magician's castle. Now she saw that there were markings on it: numbers along the edges, and numbers in the center. That much she understood: the numbers in the center represented the results of the numbers at the edges. She could never remember whether six times seven had a sum or a product or a total, or whether that result was supposed to be thirty-six, or forty, or forty-two, or maybe forty-five. Probably none of the above. As far as she was concerned, the world would be a better place if numbers just went away. The very last place she wanted to be was in the middle of a multiplication table.

  And maybe that was the point of it: this was her bad dream. This was the place of the night mares, after all.

  "Whenever we speak a number, it multiplies us by that number," the third Che concluded. "When I said—what I first said—it multiplied us by that number. When Gwenny said what she said, it multiplied her by that number. I had said 'us' so it multiplied us all; she said 'I' so it multiplied only her. Now we have a problem."

  The four Gwennys and three Jennys nodded, afraid to say anything. The problem was that there were too many of them.

  "I suspect that each of us feels that he or she is the original person," the first Che began carefully.

  "And not one of us wishes to give up his individuality," the second continued. "The word 'one' is probably safe to use, because the multiplication leaves that person unchanged."

  "Yet it is surely necessary to revert to our original states before proceeding farther into this region," the third concluded.

  The seven girls nodded, still afraid to speak, because none of them had the centaur's brains.

  "Perhaps if we perform an act of division—" the first Che started.

  "But this is a multiplication table!" one Gwenny said.

  The second Che smiled. "The two functions are related. We have merely to multiply by a fraction."

  "Will it work?" a Jenny asked. Jenny was no longer sure which one was herself.

  The third Che nodded. "I think our best approach is to reduce the Gwennys to the same number as the others, then do an overall multiplication on the group."

  All four Gwennys looked nervous. "Will it hurt?" one asked.

  "I don't think so," the first one said.

  "I need merely speak to you the fraction three quarters," the second Che continued.

  One of the Gwenny disappeared. Now there were three of them, all looking alarmed.

  "Did that hurt?" Jenny asked.

  "I don't know," a Gwenny said. "I wasn't the one who was disappeared."

  "I doubt that it hurts, either way," the third Che remarked.

  "I suppose we have to do it," one of the Jennys said with resignation.

  "Yes, I suppose," one of the Gwennys agreed unhappily.

  "Then I hereby multiply us by one third," the first Che said.

  Suddenly there were three of them: one Che Centaur, one Gwendolyn Goblin, one Jenny Elf, and one cat. They exchanged three thirds of a glance, as nearly as Jenny could make it. She felt the same as she always had.

  Silently they walked to the edge of the table and peered over. There below were assorted plants. One of them leaned toward them, showing a deep cuplike center. A branch swung toward Jenny.

  Che pulled her away from it. "Beware," he said. "I think that's a pulpit. It will pull you into its pit."

  Jenny quickly retreated, horrified. She went to another side of the table. There was a big bee buzzing among flowers. But the bee wasn't gathering pollen; it was cutting the heads off the flowers. "Now what's the matter with that bee?" she asked, dismayed.

  Che looked. "I believe I recognize that species. That is Attila the Hunny Bee."

  "Oh, I wish we could find a safe way away from here!" Gwenny said.

  Sammy marched to another side of the table. "What about that plant?" Jenny asked, pointing at one with very large transparent leaves, right opposite the cat.

  Che brightened. "I believe those are leaves of absence. They will probably conduct us away from here. And see—there is a lens!" For dew was sparkling on one of the leaves in a way that focused the light. That was their sign of the way.

  "Then let's get conducted!" Gwenny said.

  They linked hands, and Jenny picked Sammy up and set him on her shoulder, then reached out to touch one of the leaves. Immediately they found themselves in another place.

  This one did not seem much more promising. There were wilting bushes and sad-looking trees with fallen fruit at their bases. Flies buzzed from bush to fruit and back again. The smell was awful.

  "Ooo, ugh!" Gwenny said, wrinkling her nose.

  "No wonder!" Che said. "Those are putriflies! They make things rot faster."

  They walked quickly on, and left the wilting things behind. But there was more mischief ahead. They encountered a figure which looked less and less manlike the closer it got. It had two legs and two arms, but its body was made of gray metal, and its neck was a projecting tube with no head, just a hole.

  "What is that?" Jenny asked, perplexed.

  Just then the creature bent forward, and its hollow neck came to point directly at her. There was an ominous click.

  "No!"
Che cried, catching her arm and yanking her to the side. As he did so, there was a loud bang, and something whistled past the place she had just been. Smoke poured out of the creature's neck, and there was the smell of brimstone or something similar.

  "Something hit a tree," Gwenny said, looking back. Jenny looked and saw a hole in the tree, just about the size of the creature's hollow neck.

  "Now I recognize it," Che said. "It's a gunman! I thought they existed only in Mundania!"

  "A gunman?" Jenny asked, still confused. "All I see is a metal thing with no head."

  "A gun is one of the bad dreams the Mundanes have," he explained. "It exists only to hurt other creatures. It shoots out slugs of metal, and they lodge in the flesh of others, or make holes in them."

  The gunman bent forward again. Che dived for it, grabbing at its body. "No!" Gwenny screamed.

  But nothing happened. The gunman staggered back without firing, then turned around and ran away.

  "What happened?" Jenny asked, hurrying forward to help steady Che.

  "I put on its safety," the centaur said. "It couldn't fire, then."

  "I won't even ask what a safety is," Gwenny said. "The Mundanes must be terribly afraid of guns."

  "No, I understand they like them," Che said.

  "I never want to go to Mundania!" Jenny said fervently.

  "Nobody does," Che agreed. "It's an awful place."

  "So where do we go now?" Gwenny asked.

  Jenny looked around, and spied another sparkling lens. "Look! That way!"

  They hurried along a path to the side, passing through the mock lens. The path wound around and down into a glade where there seemed to be more figures moving around. As they got closer, they saw that these were fauns and nymphs. But not ordinary ones. "They have wings!" Che exclaimed.

  So they did. The creatures were not merely running around, they were spreading their wings and flying. Otherwise they were normal, for their kind: all of them were naked, the fauns were chasing the nymphs, and the nymphs were running away and screaming. This was their idea of fun.