“Do you have any advice on the best route to the mountains?” Edsel asked.
“The path forks,” Rempel said. “You will want to take the right path, to avoid mischief and find warmer clothing.”
“For sure,” Breanna agreed, as the children tittered. “Thank you.”
“If you get on the wrong path, you will need both your talents, for there will be darkness and magic to be deflected.”
“Thanks,” Edsel said. They walked back to rejoin the others.
“This is a beautiful place,” Pia said. “Justin has been pointing out its novelties. For example, there’s a chemis-tree.”
They looked. The tree’s fruit seemed to be in the form of colored fluids in little beakers.
“And a water chestnut tree,” Pia said, indicating another. The nuts were in the shape of damp little chests.
“You are becoming a naturalist,” Edsel remarked.
“I really am,” she agreed. “I never cared, before I met Justin. He’s teaching me so much.”
“We have to get moving, if we want to catch the mountains today,” Breanna said. Her voice seemed just a trifle tight.
Justin called to Gabriel and Alexandra. “Do you wish to ride farther with us?”
“No thanks,” Gabriel called back. “We like it here.”
“Maybe we’ll get married,” Alexandra agreed. Then the two of them dived back into the lake.
“It’s definitely working out,” Pia said. “In the Xanthly way.”
They got into the boat. The duck feet carried them along the path up the river. “We need to take the—” Edsel began.
“Oh look!” Pia cried. “There’s an adder.” She reached for a nearby snake.
“Oooo, great!” Monica exclaimed.
“But that’s poisonous!” Edsel protested.
Too late. Pia caught the snake and lifted it into the boat. Edsel looked desperately around for a stick, but there wasn’t even a paddle.
“What’s two plus two?” Pia asked the snake as the children crowded close.
The adder struck at the side of the boat. There was the sharp bong of a bell. Now there was a mark on the wood: the number four.
Edsel relaxed. It was after all harmless.
Pia lifted the adder and set it outside the boat. It slithered away. She glanced back at Edsel. “What were you saying?”
“Just that we should take the right path.”
“Did we take the wrong one?” Justin asked. “There was a pitchfork back near where we saw the adder.”
“A pitchfork?” Edsel asked, concerned.
“From a pine needle tree, technically. The smallest needles make tuning forks, the middle ones make pitchforks for farmers to use, and the largest make forks in the road. They are all sizes of pitchforks, really.”
So a pine needle tree could make a fork in the road. Now he got the punnish logic of it. And they had passed right through that fork while distracted by the adder. Should he ask Para to go back and check that fork?
An awful shape loomed behind them. “Haaa!” it roared. It looked like a centaur, except that it had black horns, bat wings, red skin, and green stripes.
“What is that?” Edsel asked, more than concerned.
“It’s a demon centaur,” Breanna said. “This is mischief.” She faced forward. “Get moving, Para; we’re in trouble.”
“Great,” Ted said.
“No it isn’t,” Monica said. “They chomp children.”
The boat accelerated, but the centaur was in full gallop and still gaining. “Haaa!” it repeated, just in case they hadn’t heard the first time. “I am Dyrak, scourge of mortals, and you are on my path.”
“I think we took the wrong fork,” Edsel said.
“For sure! Duck feet can’t outrun that thing. But maybe if we can reach water—” She looked desperately from side to side. “Para! Take that detour ahead! It leads toward the river.”
The boat slowed around the sharp turn and plunged into an offshoot path. The tree branches closed overhead, forming a canopy, making it seem like a hall. The demon centaur’s hoofs screeched to a halt; he did not follow them. “You’ll be sorry!” he called.
“Oh, pooh!” Monica called back.
“Yeah, poop!” Ted agreed.
Now Edsel saw creatures standing between the trees that lined the hall. They had the lower portions of men and the upper portions of bulls. They looked ferocious, but they weren’t moving. “What are those?” he asked.
“I think they’re hall minotaurs,” Breanna replied. “They keep order in halls, but I hear that folk seldom like the order they keep.”
“They don’t seem to be doing anything,” Edsel said.
“That’s because we’re going the way they want,” she said darkly. “They’ll step in if we try to escape.”
Edsel glanced at the children. They looked nervous. That made him nervous. “We can’t get out of this?”
“Rempel said we’d have to use our talents.”
Edsel concentrated. What was his talent? Ah, yes—to modify or deflect other talents. He hadn’t tried to use it, but this must be the time.
Breanna peered into the deepening gloom surrounding them as the foliage of the trees became thicker. Edsel remembered that she could see in blackness. “Worse coming,” she said tersely. “Ugly folk. I wish I had a pair of bi-noculars.”
Edsel knew better than to guess. “What are they?”
“They help you to see in the dark, twice as far.”
The boat slowed. The way ahead was being blocked. “Don’t stop,” Breanna cried. “Plow on through!”
Para tried, but hands were grabbing onto his sides. They were gnarly, warty hands. They belonged to people clinging to the boat, trying to climb in.
Edsel reached for a hand, about to rip it off the boat. “Don’t touch them,” Breanna said. “They look poisonous.”
“Who are you?” Ted asked a horrendous male face as it drew up over the rim.
“E Coli,” the face answered.
Edsel didn’t like the sound of that.
“Who are you?” Monica asked a disreputable female face.
“Salmon Ella.”
The sound of that was no better. But could his talent help? Edsel leaned over E Coli. How did his talent work? Did he have to touch, or speak?
Then Coli heaved himself up and sprawled half in the boat. Edsel put both hands out to push him back, recoiling at the touch.
And the man turned green and lumpy, and fell away. What had happened?
“Great,” Ted said. “You turned him into Broc Coli!”
Now Salmon Ella hauled herself into the boat. Edsel pushed her back. She turned into a sleek fish and fell away.
“Ella’s a salmon,” Monica said.
So that was how his talent worked, in true Xanthian fashion.
The dark path lay right under an innocent looking tree, beyond which was open water and light. “Don’t go there!” Justin called, and the boat veered to the side, crashing through brush.
“Why not?” Edsel asked.
“It’s a captivi tree.”
Oh. Of course Justin knew his trees.
Now the boat shot out of the gloom and splashed onto the water of the river. They had won through.
“That was fun,” Ted said. “Let’s do it again.”
“Isn’t it about time for your nap?” Breanna inquired.
“We don’t take naps,” Monica said.
“You do now,” Breanna said. She unfolded one of the stored blankets and draped it over them. It was decorated with pictures of tires.
“Look out!” Ted cried. “She’s making a bed.”
“It’s part of the Adult Conspiracy to subjugate children,” Monica said, appalled.
Then, to Edsel’s surprise, the two children settled immediately into nap mode. “What kind of blanket is that?” he asked.
“It’s a tire.”
“It’s attire?”
“A tire. It makes children tired.” She shook her h
ead. “I must confess, at times the Adult Conspiracy is convenient.”
“You mean, naps really is part of it?”
“As far as they know.” Breanna smiled mysteriously. He realized that she, being underage, was not yet officially part of the Conspiracy. She had been bluffing.
Now that they were on the water, it seemed to be clear sailing. Edsel relaxed. That last session had demonstrated that Xanth was not necessarily benign. “Say, we should check in,” he said, remembering. “Another day has passed.”
“For sure.” Breanna produced the Ear and handed it over.
“Edsel Mundane here,” he said into it. “All is well for the moment.”
“That’s fine,” Chlorine’s voice returned. “Same here.”
He returned the Ear. “I feel a bit guilty for that, but there’s no point in worrying them.”
“Oh, look—Siamese triplets,” Breanna said, pointing to the shore.
“Wha?” Then he saw them: three identical cats.
But they had not escaped cleanly. One of the monsters had poked a hole in the boat. Water was leaking in, forming bilge. Edsel looked for a cup or container to dip it out. The leak wasn’t large, but it could not be ignored.
Then a water creature swam toward them. It dived under the boat. Suddenly the leak stopped. It had been closed up or patched over, and now the hull was tight. The swimming creature must have done it.
“What was that thing?” Edsel asked.
“A seal, of course,” Breanna answered.
A seal had sealed the boat. Of course.
Now they made good progress upriver. “Was there some reason we didn’t travel on the river before?” Edsel asked.
“Maybe Justin knows.” Breanna lifted her voice and called to the front end of the boat. “Why didn’t we use the river before?”
“The rapids,” Justin called back. “And the slows.”
Edsel worked it out: the rapids would be too fast for comfort, and the slows would be too slow. Everything made sense, in its fashion.
But soon they had to return to the land, because a storm was coming. The clouds loomed massively. “I don’t like the look of this,” Breanna said. She lifted the blanket, and the children woke up, refreshed. “Stay close; we’ll have to take shelter.”
“Storms can be uncomfortable,” Edsel said. “But it’s only water.”
She shook her head. “Every time you start seeming normal, you say something stupid.”
They pulled off the path, and Edsel and Justin lifted the boat and turned it over. The duck feet lay flat against the hull. They all got under that shelter.
Just in time, for now the storm struck. Objects the size of footballs struck the ground with sickening thuds. Then one splatted against the boat. Part of the blob dribbled down to plop before Edsel’s nose. It was gray and wrinkled.
“What kind of storm is this?” he demanded.
“A brainstorm, silly,” Breanna said. “I hate them.”
He could understand why. Only in Xanth!
Soon the storm passed. They got out, righted the boat, and resumed their travel toward the mountains.
The grade steepened, and the temperature dropped. They had to wrap blankets around them to stay warm, because they had forgotten to get better clothing. Justin and Pia shared a blanket in front, and Edsel and Breanna shared one in back. The two demon children did not seem affected by the cold.
“I wonder whether we should change partners,” Edsel murmured.
“No, I don’t think you two men would want to share a blanket.” But Breanna’s brown face was serious; she was concerned. Pia was a mighty fetching figure of a woman.
“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I know Pia. She goes for what she wants, and there’s not a romantic bone in her body unless she chooses to put it there. She wants information, not Justin.”
“And he’s thrilled to a convert to the interest of trees,” she agreed. “I guess I don’t have reason to be jealous. It’s just my nature.” Then she turned to him. “Maybe they should be jealous of us.”
“Uh—”
“Tell me more about this in-between stage you call petting. Better, show me.”
Treacherous ground, partly because he did feel himself attracted to her. “I—think you already know enough.”
She laughed softly. “Just teasing, Ed.”
Was she? He had no doubt of her loyalty to Justin, but she could be as single minded as Pia about getting what she wanted. She wanted experience.
“Awww,” Ted’s voice came. “Aren’t you going to even goose her, like this?” He reached under Monica’s skirt.
“Eeeee!” Monica screamed, sailing high into the air.
Then they both dissolved into laughter. They must have rehearsed that little charade. Obviously they did know something of the secrets of the Adult Conspiracy, and thought they were hilarious. Edsel was abruptly glad for another reason that he had not done anything with Breanna, aside from her age and commitment to her fiancé. He had not realized how closely they were being watched.
The boat rounded a turn in the trail, and there, suddenly, was The Scene. “The illusion picture!” he exclaimed. “This is it.”
“This is the reality,” Justin called back.
They got out of the boat, each swathed in a blanket, and studied the situation. The mountains were indeed only half clothed with snow, and their middle and lower reaches were still draining into the river.
“Obviously there is a warming trend,” Justin said. “But what is causing it?”
There was a swirl of smoke, larger and more ominous than Metria’s. It formed into a giant diffuse demon. “I am causing it,” the demon announced proudly. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Edsel hesitated. Caution seemed best. This could be an ugly customer.
“For sure,” Breanna said. “It’s flooding out the valley.”
So much for caution. The demon swelled to a larger size, glowering down at her. “And who are you, dirt face?”
Uh-oh. Breanna didn’t like being put down.
“I’m Breanna of the Black Wave,” the girl said boldly. “And who the bleep are you, hot stuff?”
The demon swelled another size. “I am the Demon CoTwo, and I like warming air. I hate ice and snow.”
“Then what in Xanth are you doing here by the snow mountains, airhead?”
Edsel opened his mouth to interject something, but nothing came to mind. He saw Justin and Pia similarly stymied. Breanna’s mouth had been too quick for them.
CoTwo expanded another notch. “You dare to question me, you burned up urchin? I mean to abolish all cold air in Xanth, starting with the coldest. That is here. After all the snow and ice is gone, I will look for other ice to melt, until the whole land is warm.”
“We don’t like that, foghead,” Breanna said.
The demon swelled to yet more horrendous girth. “And what do you propose to do about it, toasted gamine?”
“We propose to stop you, gas-brain,” she retorted.
The Demon CoTwo opened his mouth until it was wider than his head. “Ho, ho, HO!” he laughed. “And how to you propose to do that?”
Now Breanna hesitated. “I’m not sure. But we’ll do it.”
“And here is what I will do,” CoTwo said. “I will blow you away. And if you ever return, I will treat you unkindly.”
“You don’t scare me, you quarter-wit,” Breanna said.
“Uh, Breanna—” Edsel murmured.
But it was too late, as it usually was in such situations. CoTwo bloated to gargantuan proportion, then aimed his big mouth and them and blew. The wind was horrendous. It picked them up and literally blew them away. They sailed heels over head through the air. Edsel didn’t have time either to be scared or to try to catch a naughty glimpse of one of the women.
They landed some distance downriver, in the cold water, unhurt but shaken. Para was inverted, his duck feet waggling frantically in the air. The supplies had gotten dumped or soaked.
“That was fun,” Ted exclaimed.
“Let’s do it again,” Monica agreed.
The adults shared a sigh as they helped right the boat and then dragged themselves out of the water. At least they had found out what was causing the problem of rising water. What they would be doing about it was a work still in progress.
8
GOOD MAGICIAN
Pia shook herself off. She hated getting soaked in her clothing. She was shiveringly cold, and their blankets were also hopelessly wet, and dusk was closing. What a mess! Para, the duck footed boat, was the only member of their party who seemed satisfied; he was resting on the water, untouched by the chill and undismayed by his dunking. He was evidently not the smartest of creatures, and liked being of service.
Well, she had never been one to mope ineffectively. “We need a fire, a tent, and food,” she said. “Then we can strip and dry our clothes while we eat in comfort.”
“I can find some fireweed,” Justin said.
“I can make a tent from the blankets,” Edsel said.
“I can roust out some chocolate spiders,” Breanna said, peering into the darkness.
“Spiders!” Pia said, alarmed.
The girl shot her a dark glance. “You’re a vegetarian?”
“No, but—” She realized that she was in danger of looking like a squeamish female. It was true; she was plenty squeamish about bugs and other noxious notions, but she didn’t like admitting it. Maybe someone else would balk at eating spiders, and then she could safely do so too. “Okay. I’ll make a hearth.”
“We’ll fetch wood,” Demon Ted said.
“And pillows,” DeMonica agreed.
The children were getting helpful? Pia distrusted that. But maybe such chores were their idea of fun.
The others scattered. Justin and Breanna disappeared into the darkness, while Edsel scouted around for sticks of wood suitable for ridgepoles. He was good at things like that. He used a rock to pound forked sticks into the ground, put the ridgepoles into the raised forks, and then set about stretching the sodden blankets across them. The blankets would drip dry as time passed, and should provide shelter.
Pia used a stick to scrape a section of ground clear, then carried in stones to make a circular hearth. The effort warmed her, but not enough; her teeth were still chattering.
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