As they completed the preparations, Dug was looking increasingly thoughtful. That suggested to Chlorine that he had something on his mind. “You have thoughts?” she inquired.
“Well, I don’t want to pry into what’s not my business, yet as a Companion I do need to know what’s going on, so as the better to anticipate and avoid problems. Especially as we travel out of my most familiar haunts.”
Nimby glanced at him. That meant that this matter should be followed up.
“What is your concern?” Chlorine asked Dug.
“The real reason for your visit to Mundania.”
“But we told you,” Chlorine said. “Nimby just wanted to see what Mundania was like, and of course the Demon Earth wouldn’t let him.”
Dug shook his head. “The Demons aren’t like that. They have no human curiosity, and they hardly care about territory. Their entire existence is wrapped up in contests with each other. Nimby may be learning a lot about human foibles, but he wouldn’t take a risk like this without good reason.”
Chlorine realized that he had a point. There must be more here than Nimby had let on. She looked at him.
Nimby reached across and touched her hand. Then she had it straight. “You are correct: there is more. Nimby did not want to burden you with details of Demon interaction, but since you ask, he will. Yes, there is another Demon bet, and that is that Nimby can’t enter Mundania and remain three days without being discovered and caught. He has one year to make the attempt or lose by default. If he is discovered, there will be complications. Since the Demon Earth is watching the normal connections between their two regions, Nimby used a special one, the O-Xone. He is also using a Mundane body, further masking his presence.”
“But does it count, if he’s not here in physical person?” Kim asked.
“Oh, yes. Because he is really here. Just without his body and most of his magic. That makes him almost impossible to trace. So he suffers the privations of lack of magic, for the sake of succeeding in his endeavor. And he does want to explore Mundania, because he has indeed been learning human traits like curiosity. They don’t come naturally to him, but he is studying them, and this experience helps.”
Dug nodded. “That makes sense to me. What would reveal his presence here?”
“If he did something crazy, that no Mundane would do, that would attract attention. But if the Demon Earth happens to look at us—well, they can read our minds, so he would know. That’s chance.”
“And the Demon Earth is looking,” Kim said.
“Yes. Probably routine sweeps, because he’s not sure Nimby is here at this time. But he’s alert. So we might make no mistakes, and still get caught. Actually the odds of success are crafted to be about 50-50, because that’s the way the demons like it: even odds, so there is always a strong element of uncertainly.”
“They are true gamblers,” Dug said. “The risks mean nothing; all they want is to win the wager.”
Nimby nodded.
“Well, we’ll do our best,” Kim said. “But you know, I have a question too, if it’s all right. I don’t want to be offensive, and it has nothing to do with the success of this mission, so—”
“So ask,” Chlorine said. “We won’t answer if we don’t want to.”
“Well, I understand that the two of you now wander around Xanth, doing spot favors for people who don’t know Nimby’s true nature. Given that Nimby is who he is, why should he bother?”
Chlorine smiled. “I can answer that without consulting with him. Nimby is trying to learn about all the things he never paid attention to before, and he feels that mixing with ordinary folk is the best way. They think we’re just Damsel & Dragon, and that’s fine, because then they don’t come asking special favors. By studying the problems of folk with little or no power, we learn a lot about human feeling and hope and grief. So that if Nimby ever wishes to go among people alone, without me as a buffer, he will be able to do so without making mistakes.”
“But aren’t you worried that—” Kim hesitated, evidently thinking better of the question.
“That he will dump me as no longer useful?” Chlorine said for her. “No, I’m not worried, because even if my association with Nimby ends tomorrow, I will be far better off for the wonderful experience and love he has given me in this time. And of course it would be simple for him to erase all memory of him from my mind, and leave me with some ordinary man who would take good care of me. I would never know the difference.” She glanced obliquely at Nimby, teasing him. “Maybe that one we met last month, Rusty, with the talent of making metal rust down to any length. Maybe the stork would deliver babies with rust colored hair.”
“As long as Rusty’s not gay,” Kim said.
“Oh, I would expect him to have a really gay time,” Chlorine said, inhaling. On Pia’s body, this had good effect.
Kim pursed her lips. “Maybe we have run afoul of a linguistic anomaly.”
“But why should the man be sad instead of gay? I’m not exactly minced spleen.”
Dug interceded. “In current slang, the term gay now refers to a sexual preference for one’s own gender.”
“And a person who prefers the opposite gender is called straight,” Kim said.
“Oh.” That did set Chlorine back a bit. But then she had the answer: “But I would put him in a straight jacket. That would stop the gaiety.”
Dug and Kim exchanged a glance. “That should do it,” Dug agreed.
“Or maybe I could marry that man Simon,” Chlorine continued, with another slice of a glance at Nimby. “The one who said things, and then they happened. He could say I’d be happy.”
The three others glanced at Nimby, but he still didn’t react. So Chlorine tried one more. “Maybe that sixteen year old Mundane boy we saw in the region of madness. What was his name—Brandon Risner. He seemed nice.” She addressed Dug and Kim. “Weird things are found at the fringes of the region of Madness. We were doing a raccoonnaissance, looking for a tailgator—they have fierce teeth in their tails—and we boarded a scholar ship. Each passenger had to submit a written essay, which meant that only educated folk could use it, but it was fun.”
“I’d like to sail on that ship,” Dug said.
“Yes, you would have liked some of the folk on it. There was Elena Human from the North Village. Her talent was Literature. She could summon any character from a book, as long as she was holding that book. There was also Polly Esther from the West Stockade, whose talent was to make long-lasting clothing. Some of it was quite sheer when she wore it.”
“He’d like that ship too well,” Kim muttered.
“We crossed a lake of Pollux oil, which smelled even worse than Castor oil. Then we docked and rode a defective donkey.” Chlorine paused, searching her memory. “No, it was an ass fault, very hard and black. Until we came to a toad lily, which was really all together. That’s where Brandon was. He was learning to play chess from a chess nut tree.”
“Wait, I think I missed one,” Kim said. “I got asphalt, and chestnut, but what’s toad lily?”
“You are toad lily stupid about puns,” Dug told her.
Had it been Xanth, a mortified light bulb would have flashed over her head. “Oh, you bad boy!” she exclaimed, punching him on the shoulder. “Toad lily bad.”
Nimby yawned. Chlorine decided she had had enough fun with him. Puns bored him. “I hope you never do dump me,” she said, kissing his ear. “I like donkey-headed dragons.”
Dug stood. “I think it’s time for us to go home.”
“You’re just smug because you’re one up on me,” Kim said. But she hardly seemed loath, as they departed for the night.
7
MOUNTAINS
“I’m nervous, having them down there so long,” Breanna said. “Suppose they get in trouble, and we don’t know it?” “Then we would have to go in after them,” Edsel said. “Maybe you’ll be able to see what I can’t, and I’ll be able to deflect hostile magic so we can rescue them.” But he was nervous
himself. Justin and Pia had gone down the steps into the ground, and though they had reported back safely once, now time was extending without their reappearance.
“I guess I fuss too much,” she said. “It’s just that I love him so, and we haven’t been together long, physically I mean, and I’m so afraid I’ll lose him to a dragon or something before I ever really have him.” She glanced sidelong at him. “Do you feel like that with Pia?”
He shook his head. “No, not really. But of course we’ve been married for four years. The bloom is off.”
“Oh, yes, you said that before. But it seems weird to me. How can you lose love?” She shifted her position, sitting cross-legged, and he couldn’t help wondering how far up under her skirt he would have been able to see if there had been more light. She was a cute kid, and nicely formed.
But he needed to address her question. “Well, I haven’t really lost mine for her, but I’m afraid she’s lost hers for me. I’m hoping she will recover it. I guess I feel I have lost her, and I’m afraid I won’t recover her. Is that close enough to your sentiment?”
“No. I know I won’t lose Justin’s love. Just his body, maybe, if something bad happens. I know it’s foolish, but it still bothers me. But I hope it works out for you.” Then she thought of something else. “Do you notice other women?”
How much honesty was appropriate? Well, this was Xanth, the land of literalness. Might as well be candid. “Yes. I notice you. That doesn’t mean—”
“Me? What’s to notice about me?”
“You’re an attractive girl, the age Pia was when I started with her. And you would be freaking me out with your legs if it weren’t dark.”
She glanced down. “Really? Without even showing my panties?” She seemed pleased.
“For sure,” he said, smiling. Then, to change the subject, he addressed the boat. “Para, how are you doing?”
The boat slapped a webbed foot against the ground in acknowledgment.
“I wish you could talk,” he said. “I’d like to know your history.”
“You could play Nineteen Questions,” Breanna said. “Tell him to tap once for yes, two for no, three for uncertainty.”
“Say, yes,” he agreed. “Okay, Para: would you like to tell us your personal history?”
A foot slapped once.
“Were you born or made? Oops, wrong phrasing.
Were you born?” “Wrong question,” Breanna said. “Folk don’t get born in Xanth; that’s a clumsy, messy Mundanian custom. They get delivered by the stork.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. Okay, Para: were you delivered?”
One slap, which he heard as Yes.
“So no one made you?”
Yes. There was a moment of confusion as they established that the answer was literal: no one had made the craft, because it had been delivered by a stork.
“This is getting interesting,” Breanna said. “Who could be the parents of a boat with ten pairs of duck feet?”
Edsel zeroed in on the answer. “Was your mother a duck?”
Two foot slaps: No.
He tried other creatures, but none was right.
Breanna got a notion. “A boat! Was your mother a boat?”
Yes.
They considered. It seemed unlikely to be an ordinary boat. What kind of boat could signal the stork?
“A dream boat!” Breanna said, a bulb flashing over her head.
Yes.
“Was your father a duck?”
Three slaps, signifying uncertainty.
“Uncertain because you don’t know?” Edsel asked.
No.
“Because it’s not exactly a duck?”
Yes.
They tried variations of ducks, and finally Edsel got it: “A quack! Your father was a quack.”
Yes. It turned out that the two had blundered onto a love spring, tricked there by Anemone, which was a water creature with a bad attitude—an enemy, in fact. They desperately signaled the stork about ten times before they managed to get clear of that potent water. The stork works had pondered the order for some months, and finally compromised by delivering one boat with ten pairs of duck feet. By that time the quack was long gone, but the dream boat remained, and she showed Para the ways of the water. But he had to learn the way of the land himself, and that was chancy.
Now they wanted to know how Para had come to be associated with the two docks, where Breanna had first encountered him. This was hard to zero in on, but they were making progress—when Justin and Pia returned.
“I’m almost disappointed,” Breanna murmured, smiling. She had a very white smile in the subdued light of the illusion castle.
“There’ll be other occasions,” Edsel said. Then they focused on the others. The four stood beside the boat, catching up. The two who had gone underground seemed oddly animated, as if they had had some transcendent experience.
“We have discovered a tree,” Justin said. “The Coventree. This region is safe for us.”
“A tree?” Edsel asked, wondering if he had missed the punch line.
“But we’ve just got to help that tree,” Pia said. “It’s getting drowned out, and so are its friends.”
“But we can’t take time to get involved in forestry,” Breanna protested. “We have to get Edsel and Pia safely back to the O-Xone.”
“I think not,” Justin said.
Breanna spluttered. “But—”
Justin turned to his companion. “Pia?”
Pia turned to Edsel. “I would be so grateful for your support. So very very grateful.”
She never spoke like that unless she really wanted something, and not only could she make him extraordinarily glad to cooperate, she could make him phenomenally unhappy when he did not. “You have it.” he said immediately. He didn’t need to know what he was committing himself to, just that heaven was better than hell.
“Thank you,” she said, and hugged and kissed him. She had her sixteen year old body back, and it put images of squadrons of storks into his fevered imagination. She would make good on the implication, too, when the opportunity came. She always did. The fact was, he loved being wound around her little finger.
“Since they are determined to resolve this matter,” Justin was saying, “we are obliged to assist them in whatever way we are able.”
“Have you been enchanted?” Breanna asked suspiciously. “What happened down there?”
“We’ll show you,” Pia said. “Come; you must meet the Coventree.”
Breanna shot a desperate glance at Edsel, but he was lost. He could argue with Pia, he could exchange insults with her, he could be mad at her, but he could not oppose her when she used her sex appeal to win her way. He knew this did not mean that she would remain married to him, but for the duration of his cooperation in her design, she would be his loving girlfriend. That might be the best he could get, and he was incapable of refusing it.
“I guess we have to do it,” Breanna said, clearly not entirely pleased.
Justin embraced her, and kissed her, and pinched her bottom.
“Justin!” she said, astonished. “You got fresh!”
“Something I learned from Pia,” he said, looking apprehensive.
“You learned from—what were you two doing down there?!”
“He told me that you surprised him,” Pia said evenly. “I told him how to surprise you in turn.”
“Oh.” The girl reconsidered, perhaps remembering the business of holding hands. Then she turned back to Justin. “Okay. Do it again.”
Edsel had to laugh. Pia had made quite an impression on those two, first getting Breanna to lead Justin into something, then getting him to initiate something. Physical romance was a process Pia knew volumes about. The Xanthly Adult Conspiracy would never be the same.
Then Justin and Pia led the way down into the nether section. Para followed them, his duck feet handling the steps well enough. Edsel hesitated, then drew the lid down, closing them in; it now seemed safer than advertisin
g where they had gone.
“First the tour,” Pia said. “I know you’re tired, and we’ll rest soon, but this is important.”
Actually Edsel wasn’t tired, because he had been riding in the boat and then sitting and talking with Breanna. He was curious to know what had gotten Pia so excited and committed.
It was a showing of six museum-style pictures or settings. Illusion paintings, Justin explained. Two were of snowy mountains, and four were of a pleasant wooded valley.
They completed the circuit. They were back at the stairway. “That’s it?” Breanna asked. Edsel felt much the same. So there were six somewhat repetitive pictures; so what?
“The snows are melting,” Pia said. “The valley is flooding.”
Edsel exchanged a glance with Breanna. This time he did the honors: “So?”
“So the runoff from the mountains is flooding the valley,” Pia said. “The roots of the trees are drowning, and so the trees are dying.”
Edsel shrugged. “It happens. What’s your point?”
“Those are good trees. It’s not right just to let them die, when we can maybe do something to save them.”
“Since when were you ever an environmentalist?”
Instead of retorting with a cutting remark, Pia paused to consider. “Since I met the Coventree.”
“Is this a magic tree? Did it enchant you?”
Pia considered again. “I don’t think it enchanted me. But if it did, I’m glad of it. I feel—as if I’ve fallen in love. With a mission.”
This was strong medicine, but not necessarily bad. Pia had never before been dedicated to anything other than her comfort of the moment.
“Then maybe we had better meet the Coventree,” Breanna said.
“Coming up.” Pia led the way into the last picture.
Edsel and Breanna stared. “Oh, that’s right,” Edsel said after a moment. “You can pass through illusion.”
It turned out to be an awkward route, especially for the duck footed boat. They went through a hole in the side wall, down a small tunnel, into a larger cross tunnel, through a puddle of bilge-water, and into a large central cave where squat square columns abounded.
Xone of Contention Page 15