Soon they found one. It was marked CAMPSITE-ENCHANTED. It looked very nice.
"But just what exactly does it mean, enchanted?" he asked.
"It means that bad creatures can not attack here. So we may sleep without fear."
"But I thought we couldn't use the enchanted paths."
"This is not a path. It is a safe area. Players are allowed to use these."
"That's a relief." Because Dug had learned to take the fantasy threats seriously. He knew that if he got chomped by something that went bump in the night, or bumped by something with teeth, he would be out of the game. He could appreciate how dangerous it could be to sleep unprotected.
There was a big fabric plant growing nearby. They harvested some blankets and canvas, and soon had used available ironwood poles to fashion a framework. There was a box of magic tent pegs mat gripped the edges of the fabric and held them firm. Nada knew what she was doing a good deal better than he did, so he followed her lead. The resulting tent did not look professional, but neither did it look incompetent They spread pillows from pillow bushes on the ground, and the blankets over them.
Then they harvested potluck pies from the pie trees, and some milkweed pods. Dug was getting used to the way puns became real here; this was just the way it was, in Xanth.
There was a pleasant stream crossing a corner of the protected site. Nada went there to wash. "Please do not look," she said politely.
Dug went to the tent, lay down, put his head in the pillow, and closed his eyes tightly. He had always been a quick study, and the game had taught him well. Absolutely no peeking!
Soon she came to the tent "Your turn," she said.
He got up and went to the river. He was not surprised to find it cool and pleasant on his skin; he had been reminded that this was a game, from which he could be excluded, but also that while he was in the game, it was increasingly real. So he no longer questioned that reality; he reveled in it. Whatever the rules of this fantasy land were, he would follow them literally, from now on.
Nada was sitting up on her pillow-bed when he returned. She was in a stunning nightdress which actually was far more discreet than it seemed, showing no extra flesh. "Dug, I must ask you something," she said hesitantly.
"All the rules!" he exclaimed. "I'm not breaking any one of them!"
She smiled. "Of course. My concern is this: I normally sleep in my natural form, but if you would prefer that I retain human form, I will. I understand that some people are uncomfortable in the presence of reptiles."
He needed no thought at all before answering. "Make yourself comfortable, Nada. I know who and what you are, I've seen you change to snake form, and if I wake and find a serpent beside me, I'll understand." Because much as he liked her human form, he now knew that it was completely off bounds, and he didn't even want to be tempted. Only if he behaved himself absolutely could he ever hope to be allowed not to behave himself. So he was going to do all he could to keep her happy. She might be his Companion, but he was going to be a perfect escort for her, too.
"Thank you, Dug." Her face did not change, but her body melted into serpent form, the nightdress sagging around it She slithered out of the apparel, formed a loose coil, and laid her human head on the pillow.
There would have been a time, Dug reflected, when such a sight would have amazed him. But that was history, as of a few hours ago. He changed into the pajamas she had laid out for him and lay down on his own bed.
Sleep was magically swift and restful. Dug could not be sure whether he slept eight hours, or one, or one second. Because this was a game, it could be just a fade-out, fade-in leading to the next scene. But it seemed like slumber.
Next day they came to a sign: SHORTCUT TO SUCCESS. There was an arrow pointing down a side path.
"Does this make sense?" Dug inquired.
"I have not been told about this," Nada said, frowning. I don't believe that such a sign is normally here. That suggests that it has been set up for the game."
"Does that mean we have to go that route?"
"By no means! A challenge set up for the game is as likely to be troublesome as rewarding. It may be safer to avoid it and make our own way south."
Dug considered. "About how much farther is the Good Magician's castle?"
"Several days, at our present pace. We shall also have to cross the Gap Chasm, which is formidable."
"And the shortcut might take us there sooner?"
"A magical route could take us there in one moment," she said. "Two moments at the most. But it could also lead us into mischief. I suspect it is a gamble which can either help us greatly, or complicate things greatly, depending on how we manage to handle it."
"What do you recommend?"
Now she considered a good half-moment. "Do you like traveling with me?"
Dug forced himself to be subdued. "Yes."
"You would not mind taking several extra days?"
"I would not" He would not mind taking several extra years, with her, even if he never got to look at her body.
"Then I recommend avoiding this shortcut, because I can convey you to the Good Magician by the slow route, while I am not sure what will happen on the shortcut."
But Dug was becoming canny about his real objectives. "Which do you prefer, Nada?"
She was surprised. "My preference does not count. You are the Player. I am here to be your Companion, to help you accomplish your desire in the game."
Except if his desire was to grab her and kiss her. Failing that, his desire was to please her. He didn't care about winning the game; he just wanted to stay a while longer in this magical land, and be with her, and make her smile on occasion.
"I would love to be with you extra time," he said carefully. "But I realize that for you this is just a job, and I don't want to make it more burdensome than it has to be. I can go either the safe slow route or the mysterious adventure route. Which would you prefer it to be?"
"I have to confess that I am femininely curious about that shortcut," she confessed femininely. "But I seriously question whether it is wise, so—"
"I'm curious too," he said. One thing this game had done: it had made him figure out his true desire. Pleasing her was more important than being with her for a longer time. "So shortcut it is. The foolish Mundane has made another foolish decision."
She shot him an appreciative glance that made it all worthwhile, regardless of the outcome. "Perhaps not entirely foolish," she murmured.
They followed me shortcut. It led to a marshy glade with odd-shaped depressions near a sharply rising mountain. Nada looked uneasy, but didn't comment.
Dug sniffed the air. "What is mat smell? Did a whale die here after eating a mountain of cabbage?"
Nada sniffed. "Oh, I don't like this!"
"Neither do I. If that's the Good Magician's castle ahead, he needs to catch up on a century's worth of baths."
"I fear it is an invisible giant," Nada said faintly.
"Oh, is he going to step on us? Then we'd better get onto the shadow of that mountain."
"Worse. Because—"
The ground shook. The very trees seemed to jump. In fact, some did jump, as if kicked by an invisible foot. Then a swatch of nearby forest was abruptly flattened, as if the foot had landed on it. The smell intensified.
Dug stared. "That invisible giant—you weren't joking?"
"A princess seldom jokes."
Another swatch of forest flattened. "It's coming toward us!" Dug cried. "Run for the mountain!"
“I fear we have no choice," she agreed, running with him. Even distracted as he was by the overpowering stench and the threat of being stepped on, Dug couldn't help but notice how she looked when she ran. He wished he could watch that when not distracted. But he would never tell her that, of course. It wouldn't be Mundanely.
They reached the mountain. There was a cave opening, leading into a dimly lighted tunnel.
Another invisible foot landed, squishing more forest. It was alarmingly close. "We'd
better hide in there!" Dug said.
"Not if we can help it," Nada said.
He hesitated. "Why not? It can't be worse than here."
"Oh, it can," she said. "I fear this is Pewter's cave. It shouldn't be here; it's south of the Gap Chasm. But the shortcut must have conveyed us there."
"A pewter cave? You mean it is used to store metal carvings?"
"No. It—"
Another invisible footprint was forming. This one was right before them, and the ground was rapidly indenting toward them, as if a huge boot had landed heel-first and the sole and toe were coming down. The smell had become an intolerable stink.
They launched themselves into the cave, where the boot couldn't reach. Just in time, for me whole region shook, and dust stirred everywhere except where the footprint was.
"Oh, nuisance!" Nada swore. "We have been driven into Pewter's lair. The shortcut is a Pewter Plot"
"What's so bad about pewter? It's just tin and lead, an alloy they use to make pretty figurines and things."
"This is Com-Pewter, Xanth's evilest machine," she explained. "He was turned into a nice machine recently, but for the purpose of the game he is defined as he used to be. He changes reality in his vicinity, so as to have everything his way. Now we're really in trouble, and it's all my fault, because I told you to try the shortcut"
Com-Pewter. Another stupid pun. "No, I told you we would try it. Obviously this is a special game challenge. So I'll just handle it and go on, no sweat"
"You can't just handle Pewter!" she protested. "He handles you."
"Well, we'll see about that." Dug marched on into the cave, having concluded that foolish boldness would impress her more than ineffective caution.
They came into a larger cave, where there was a collection of junk. A screen stood up in the center of that pile. WELCOME, MUNDANE PLAYER, it printed.
So this was the dread machine! But Dug had learned not to dismiss magic things contemptuously; they could indeed fight back, here in this Land of Xanth. "Hello, Com Pewter. What can I do for you?"
YOU CAN SERVE ME FOREVER, the magic screen responded. YOU CAN FORFEIT YOUR GAME.
"No choices in between?"
NONE.
"Well, I don't care for those options," Dug said firmly. "So I'll just be departing now. It's been nice meeting you."
MUNDANE PLAYER CHANGES HIS MIND.
Oops. "Then again, maybe I'll stay and chat with you awhile," Dug said, discovering that his mind had indeed been changed. He was beginning to understand what Nada had meant about the evil machine changing reality. This could be worse trouble than he had figured on.
"Now wait you evil machine," Nada protested. "You aren't allowed to give him a no-win either-or! You have to give him a chance to beat you."
WHO SAYS? the screen demanded irritably.
"The Demon Professor Grossclout," she retorted. "He set up the rules for the game, and if you don't obey—"
PRINCESS COMPANION CHOKES AND IS UNABLE TO COMPLETE HER SENTENCE, the screen printed.
Nada choked and coughed, not finishing her sentence.
But this was enough to give Dug the hint "So it's this Demon Big Cloth who runs the game, not you! And he says you have to give me a fair chance. Which means you have to give my Companion a chance to advise me. Otherwise—"
OTHERWISE WHAT, IGNORANT MUNDANE?
Dug did not like being called ignorant but since that accurately described him in this situation, he let it pass. He made a flying guess. "Otherwise you forfeit, screen-for-brains, and I win. Now let Nada go."
GIRL COMPLETES HER IRRELEVANT REMARK, the screen printed grudgingly.
“Grossclout will make mush of your crockery brain," Nada finished.
I WOULD LIKE TO SEE HIM TRY.
Nada rose to the challenge. "If I snap my fingers, he will appear," she said. "Because that's my signal for game interference." She held up her hand, fingers cocked.
DAMSEL'S HAND GOES NUMB.
Nada's fingers sagged. She could not snap them.
"But I can snap mine," Dug said. "Want to bet he won't respond to somebody's finger snap from this area?"
IGNORANT MUNDANE'S HAND GOES NUMB. Dug lost sensation in his hand. This computer was sharp!
But now Nada was free. "My hand has recovered," she said. "You can't control both of us at the same time. So now I'll snap."
NO NEED, the screen printed quickly. IT WAS ONLY A JOKE. HAVE YOU NO HUMOR? THE MUNDANE WILL BE GIVEN AN EVEN CHANCE.
Dug had seen that kind before: bullies who claimed it was only a joke, when they had to back off. He had never liked that kind. At least they had backed the ornery machine off a bit. "So I'll have an even chance," he said, getting it officially stated, because it was apparent that statements had the force of reality here.
I SHALL GIVE YOU THREE TASKS TO PERFORM, AND—
"Nuh-uh!" Dug interrupted. "I'll define the rules." Again, he hoped to prevail by getting his definitive statement in first He knew that any tasks the evil machine set would be almost impossible to accomplish. "We'll have a pun riddle contest. First one who can't guess the other's riddle loses." Because he was pretty good at riddles.
NUH-UH, the screen printed. ONE MUST ANSWER AND THE OTHER FAIL. IF BOTH ANSWER OR BOTH FAIL, THE ROUND IS NULL.
Dug had to admit that was fair. At least he had defined the nature of the contest. "Okay. I'll go first." He paused, but the machine did not object. So he dredged up a punnish not-too-dirty joke he had heard, hoping Nada wouldn't object: "What is spelled with a hymen?"
MAIDEN-HEAD, the screen printed.
Ouch! Pewter had heard the joke! Now he was down one, and if the machine floored him, he'd be lost
HOW DID THE DEMONS PULL THE KISS-MEE RIVER STRAIGHT?
"What river?" Dug asked blankly.
"He's Mundane," Nada said. "He doesn't know our landmarks. You have to tell him before using them."
THE KISS-MEE RIVER FLOWS SOUTHWARD ALONG EASTERN XANTH, CONNECTING THE KISS-MEE LAKE TO LAKE OGRE-CHOBEE. THE DEMONS PULLED IT STRAIGHT, RUINING IT. BY WHAT MAGIC DID THEY ACCOMPLISH THIS?
Now something clicked. "There was a river somewhere—Florida, I think—the Kissimmee—that the Corps of Engineers channelized. You mean this is a pun on that?"
ANSWER THE QUESTION.
Dug looked at Nada. "It is true," she said. "The demons did do that. You must answer."
In the real world, the demons had simply dug a straight channel and routed the river through it, eliminating the meanders. It had been reckoned an environmental disaster. No magic there, and no puns; it had been one seriously unfunny business. How was he supposed to make a joke of it?
"I guess they used a pushmi-pullyou spell on it," he said without much hope.
ERROR! the screen printed. HEE-HEE!
But he wasn't quite lost yet. "You have to show that you have a good answer," Dug said. "Because if you don't, it doesn't count"
“That is true," Nada said, relieved.
The evil machine wasn't fazed. THEY PULLED THE S'S STRAIGHT, MAKING THEM L'S. THUS KISS-MEE BECAME KILL-MEE, WITH NO MORE CURVES.
And when the S's went straight, making them small L's, the river became straight too. It did make punnish magical sense. Dug knew he had lost.
"Okay, Pewter, you beat me," he said. "What now?"
YOU ARE IN A DREAM WHICH IS OUR REALITY. YOUR REALITY IS OUR DREAM. RETURN TO IT.
Com Pewter's screen showed a picture: Dug's room, with his messy bed in the background and used socks on the floor. Mundania—suddenly the dreariest possible place.
He looked at Nada. "I'm sorry. I lost I really wanted to stay with you, but I have to go."
"Yes," she said sadly. "I have failed you."
"No, I failed myself. I didn't make the grade." He was determined to be a good loser; it was all that was left.
He faced the screen. "How do I—?”
STEP THROUGH.
So Dug lifted a foot and put it to the screen, which seemed to grow larger. His foot
passed through without resistance and landed on his chair. In a moment he was through, and back in his room.
He turned, and saw Nada on the screen. "But you can play again, Dug," her speech balloon said. "If you ask for me—"
SILENCE! the screen printed. Then it went dark. Dug was definitely out of the game.
Chapter 6
HYDROGEN
Cyrus Merman was about to pose his question to Kim. Jenny quailed, fearing that the pleasant evening was about to become extremely awkward. Even without much knowledge of the things hidden by the Adult Conspiracy, she could tell that this was an extremely serious matter. She had failed to protect Kim from this, and so had not been a good Companion.
"Dear, perhaps you should give her the background," The Siren said to her son. "Remember, Kim is not from Xanth, and she may not understand, otherwise."
"Certainly," Cyrus agreed. "If it is not too boring."
Jenny knew that Kim would not be bored by any postponement of the dread question. "We're sure it will be most interesting," she said quickly.
He smiled. "It is nice of you to say that, Jenny Elf. Certainly it interests us, but we are natives of this region."
"Oh, we want very much to know," Kim said with all the faint heartiness she seemed able to muster. The irony was that she really did look very nice in the dress the Siren had provided, and had she been a regular denizen of Xanth, such a union would have been entirely appropriate. So Cyrus was twenty-eight; he was still a handsome, vigorous man, surely nicely experienced, who could be good for a girl of sixteen. There were many such girls in Xanth who would jump at the chance.
"Then we must do it in appropriate style," Morris said. "For this history has become a play, and we like to re-enact it on significant occasions."
Jenny and Kim exchanged another glance of doubt. Significant occasion? But what could they do, except agree, hoping that some diplomatic way would turn up to get out of this misunderstanding?
"We must assume roles," Cyrus said. "For this narrative concerns the Curse Fiends, and their concern is acting. Indeed, it was from one of their traveling troupes that we learned it. Of course we can not hope to do it as well as they do, but it is more fun being in it ourselves."
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