He turned, and his hips flared: he was becoming the woman again.
“History—herstory,” Edsel murmured as they followed. “I get it—I think.”
“I guess she can see his story, and he can see hers,” Breanna said. “No battle of the sexes there.”
“But it does give new meaning to the term gender-bender,” Edsel said. He would.
They followed Dot/Don along another path. Pia verified that the person’s clothing did not change with the gender; it was a unisex outfit that filled out in different regions according to the body beneath it. Probably a tunic would have been better, because it was more naturally pliable. She wondered what it would be like if Don/Dot wore no clothing. Edsel’s eyes would inflate at sight of the woman, and deflate at sight of the man. What kind of a romantic life would such a person have?
They passed a handsome tree. Edsel was about to touch its trunk, but Justin stopped him. “No! That’s reverse wood!”
Edsel paused. “Does that mean what it sounds like?”
“Yes,” Breanna said. “Think of antimatter.”
Edsel abruptly stepped well back from the tree. “Antimatter—touch that and it’s total destruction.”
“Not that extreme,” Justin said. “But reverse wood is never to be taken for granted. It reverses magic, and you can seldom be sure what form that reversal will take.”
Dot looked back. “I was delivered near that tree. I think it accounts for my talent. The first time I touched it, it reversed me from a boy to a girl, and the second time, the other way. After a while I got so I could do it on my own,” Don concluded.
“I don’t want to touch it,” Pia said. “I’m satisfied as a girl.”
“For sure,” Breanna agreed.
“Reverse wood does not necessarily reverse gender,” Justin said. “It may have no effect on a person, and merely reverse some thing a person touches it to. But I agree that we do not wish to experiment. I am surprised to discover it here; I had thought most such trees were destroyed some time ago.”
“That reminds me,” Don said. “When I was really little, this tree was a rotting stump. Then it formed into a gnarly old tree. Now it’s a mature tree, healthier.”
“It is living backwards!” Justin said. “Reverse wood lives backwards. That makes perfect sense, though it had not occurred to me before.”
They moved on, and soon came to a shack where a number of ducks flocked. An old man sat on a stool, bandaging a duck’s sore foot. This was obviously the quack doctor.
“Someone to see you, grandpa,” Dot said.
The man looked up. “Hello. I’m Owen Cossaboon, quack doctor. What can I do for you?”
“You’re Mundane,” Breanna said.
“Yes, I have no magic. That’s why I’m a quack. But I do what I can.” He turned the bandaged duck loose.
“We have a patient for you,” Pia said. She beckoned to Para, who had hung back. The boat limped up.
“Oh, you ran afoul of the lack toes,” Owen said sympathetically. “I thought we had cleaned out that patch, but it must have grown back.”
“Can you help?” Pia hardly relished the notion of walking a long way instead of riding.
“No, but maybe my daughter can.” He turned his head and called “Sharon!”
A woman in her mid 30’s emerged from the house. “What—oh, look at that boat!”
“Para,” Pia said. “That’s his name. He lost some toes.”
“Has he eaten anything from around here?”
“No,” Breanna said. “Para doesn’t eat.”
“Yes, I can help,” Sharon said. She came and kneeled by the boat. She picked up an injured foot and massaged it, and its webbing extended. “You’re healing it,” Pia said, surprised.
“Yes, but it’s not much. I can heal only other folk’s injuries,” Sharon said. “A few drops of healing elixir could do the same.” She picked up another foot.
“It’s enough,” Pia said. She had seen a good deal of magic in Xanth, but it still could surprise her.
Soon all the duck feet were whole again. “Thank you,” Pia said, much relieved. “What can we do for you folk in return?”
Owen glanced at her. “We don’t seek any return favors. Just being useful is enough. Just being in Xanth is enough. And that’s one remarkable boat.”
“Well, I’ll give you something anyway,” Pia said. She leaned down and kissed him on the ear.
Owen blushed. That pleased her; it meant that she still had it, and it worked on strangers. While she would have bridled if anyone had called her insecure, she did appreciate evidence that she was as pretty as she had ever been. There was power in prettiness.
Edsel fidgeted; something was on his mind. “Maybe I’m missing something,” he said. “But if Sharon can heal a duck’s feet, why did you have to bandage that other duck?”
Owen glanced at his daughter.
“I can’t heal local creatures,” Sharon said. “I think it’s because of the ambiance of the reverse wood tree. Any creature who has eaten something here is immune to my healing. But Dad helps them. It just takes more time.”
They got into the boat. “Well, thanks again,” Breanna said. “We have to move on to the Good Magician’s castle.”
“You will have to get across the Gap Chasm,” Owen said. “That may be a problem, unless Para can sprout wings.”
“Oops, I hadn’t thought of that,” Breanna said. “But maybe we’ll be able to find the invisible bridge.”
“Invisible?” Pia asked, not at all sure she liked the sound if it.
“You’ll see,” Breanna said cheerfully. “Or maybe won’t see, as the case may be.”
They moved out. Pia had to admit it to herself: Xanth was getting to her. She liked it, and she liked the people she was encountering here. It was Edsel who had made the deal to get her here, in the hope that it would change her mind about their marriage. She had deemed that a forlorn hope of his, but his chances no longer seemed quite as remote. If she could just keep her nice body—but of course this wasn’t really her body. It was a borrowed body, better than her own.
They returned to the main path and headed south. Soon it fed into one of the enchanted paths, so that they could relax; they would be safe as long as they stayed on it.
By about noon they reached it. The Gap Chasm was an enormous cleft in the land, dropping awesomely far down. Pia felt a bit dizzy and ill peering down. The thought of crossing an invisible bridge hardly appealed; how would they know where the edge of it was?
They ranged along the brink. “The bridge isn’t right by the path,” Breanna said. “This may be a long search.”
Pia was getting hungry. “Is it safe to forage here?”
“Perhaps I should accompany you,” Justin said diplomatically.
“Fine.” He was always such a gentleman that she wouldn’t have minded his company even if she wasn’t trying to learn all about nature.
They walked a bit away from the chasm. “Those berries look good,” Pia said.
“They are excellent, but not for eating,” he said. “Those are thimble-berries, useful for sewing.” He picked one, showing how it was hollow and fit over the tip of the finger.
Then she saw what looked like pies growing, except that they had projections on the sides. “How about those?”
“Now that’s interesting,” he said. “Those are the very first of that variety I have seen in Xanth. I know them only from a description. They are Pie & Ears. Note the ears on the sides.”
So that was what they were. “Are they edible?”
“Oh, yes, certainly. But best to stay with the ones with ears.”
“Why?” she asked, picking one without looking.
“Because when they have legs, they—”
She looked. A pair of legs hung down from the one she held. Suddenly the legs moved. Alarmed, she dropped it—and the pie ran away into the brush. “They run away,” she said, understanding.
“Yes. Or—”
She was picking one with a smily face on its surface. She lifted it to her opening mouth. The pie’s eyes went round and its mouth formed an O of horror.
She set it down. “Point made.” She picked one with ears. They might hear, but they didn’t protest.
The others came for pies of their own. Then they settled down to do a thorough search for the invisible bridge. But before they got far, there was a distraction.
First there was the sound: a raucous screeching. Then there was the smell, as of week old garbage. “Uh-oh,” Breanna said.
“Perhaps it would be expedient to hide,” Justin suggested. “We are after all some distance from the enchanted path.”
“What is it—a sick dragon?” Pia asked.
“Worse,” Breanna said.
They hurried into the brush, but before they could get out of sight, the horror arrived. It was a flock of big ungainly birds. No, not birds—they had human female anatomy. They were harpies, but not similar to Handi Harpy. These were foul of mouth and feather.
“Look!” one screeched. “Men!”
They flocked to gawk at Edsel and Justin. Pia realized that harpies, having very few males of their species, must be very hungry for male company. That was probably why Handi had been so nice to Justin. But these ones were so foul-mouthed and filthy that they would drive away most males of any species.
“Beware,” Justin cried. “We have found a nest of sting-rays.”
“You’re bluffing,” a harpy screeched. She hovered, evidently about to fly at him. Pia wasn’t sure what the dirty bird would do when she reached him, but strongly suspected he wouldn’t like it. Any more than the average girl liked being sexually harassed by men.
“Perceive it for yourselves,” Justin said, gesturing at a large glowing hive.
The harpies retreated. Evidently this was an effective threat.
“What’s a sting-ray?” Pia asked, knowing that it would not be the same as the sea creatures she knew of.
“A crossbreed between a bee and a sun ray,” he explained. “They sting with laser beams, so can’t be readily avoided. An aroused nest is a thing devoutly to be fled.” He stood by the nest, holding a stick.
Pia pictured a swarm of angry bees. These might well be worse. They would surely rout the harpies, but what would happen to the humans? She hoped the harpies did not call Justin’s bluff.
“How could a bee and a sun ray interbreed?” Edsel asked.
“Remarkable things occur at love springs.”
That must account for all the crossbreeds of Xanth. Pia made a mental note: be wary of love springs.
Then she thought of something else. “You know, those harpies could be useful”
“Not in any way I know of,” Breanna said.
“We need to cross the chasm, and we can’t find the bridge. They could carry the boat across.”
“And us in it,” Breanna agreed, catching on. “But it would be one stinking trip.”
Pia glanced at the daunting crevasse. “Maybe we could stand it, for a while.”
“Excellent point,” Justin said. Then he called to the harpies. “We would like to make a deal.”
“Are you threatening us?” a harpy screeched.
“By no means. We wish to cross the Gap Chasm, and we haven’t found the bridge. Could you carry our boat and us across?”
Several harpies spun about to stare at the boat. “We could. Why should we?”
“What would you like in return?”
There was a brief hubbub. “A million kisses.”
Justin was ready for that. “My fiancée would object to that.” Diplomatically phrased; the harpies could assume that it was jealousy.
The dirty birds reconsidered. “We’re going to the cir-cuss,” one screeched. “But it moved and we can’t find it.”
Justin smiled. “As it happens, I know its schedule. I can tell you where it is this year.”
They distrusted this. “This isn’t the kind of thing you clean folk like. We have our cussing contests there.”
“I am aware of that. It is where you and the goblin males settle who has the foulest mouth in Xanth.”
“That’s it,” she screeched in agreement. “The fowlest mouth.”
“Carry us across, and I will direct you to it.”
“No you don’t,” the harpy screeched cannily. “Tell us where first.”
Justin considered. “It is not inordinately far from our destination. Carry us, and I will show you where. Then you can set us down and we shall go our way.”
The harpies exchanged a dirty glance. “Done!”
The humans got into the boat, and the harpies settled along its sides, their soiled talons taking hold. It was a good thing the wood didn’t have nerves, Pia thought. The smell alone was bad enough. The creatures spread their dungy wings and heaved upward. The boat lurched into the air and out over the precipice. Pia fixed her eyes on the boat’s floor, not wanting to see just how precarious their situation was.
But after a while she nerved herself to look. They were high over the depth of the chasm. Maybe the smell was numbing her wariness of heights, because she found she could handle the view. It looked clean and fresh. “What’s down there?” she asked.
“The Gap Dragon,” Justin said matter of factly. “He eats most creatures he catches, and he catches most that venture into his domain.”
“The Gap Dragon,” Pia repeated weakly.
He took this for a request for more information. “He’s Stanley, a steamer. He breathes steam rather than fire or smoke. That cooks his meals before he chomps them. He has six legs and vestigial wings. He’s Princess Ivy’s pet.”
“Her what?”
“It is a long story. Briefly, he was youthenized when they met, and they became friends.”
“Is that euphemized or euthanized?”
“Youthenized. Or youthened. Made younger, because of an overdose of youth elixir. He was a baby dragon. So they grew up together; it’s one of the better friendships of Xanth. He won’t eat anyone she asks him not to.”
“This princess sounds like quite a girl.”
“Oh, she’s a woman now, with triplet daughters.”
There was a jolting crash, as if they had stuck a barrier. Pia clutched the seat, gazing wildly about—and seeing nothing.
“What happened?”
“We hit a wall,” a harpy screeched.
“In the air?” Pia demanded.
“A wall of air. We’re trying to fly around it.”
“I know of a couple called Waller and Wallette,” Justin said. “They build walls, and their daughter Wallnut makes wallpaper. But I hardly think they would be working up here.”
There was another crash, on the other side. Several feathers flew. “Another wall!” a harpy screeched indignantly.
“Now I think I know what it is,” Justin said. “It’s an air compressor. The walls of air squeeze things between them, and drop them into the Gap.”
“Now he tells us!” a harpy screeched. “What can we do?”
“Drop down as if squeezed out,” Justin suggested. “Then fly again when free of it.”
“Dead stick landing!” a harpy screeched. Suddenly they all folded their grimy wings, and they and the boat plummeted. Pia felt as if she were floating, and she hated it.
“Not too far,” Justin cried.
“Spread wings!” a harpy screeched.
Together they spread their wings. Suddenly the boat was braking. Pia’s stomach sagged down toward her feet. But it was better than crashing.
“Forward!” another harpy screeched. The boat surged ahead. Pia waited anxiously for another crash, but it didn’t happen. They must have dropped free of the air compressor.
She pried open an eye—and almost wished she hadn’t. They were flying toward a nearly vertical cliff. It was the far wall of the Gap. They had descended into the chasm.
The wind of the harpies’ wings dislodged a small object rolling along the brink. It dropped down into the
boat and danced about as if hyper-active. It looked like a small tin can. “What’s this?” Pia asked, for the moment distracted from the menace of the looming cliff face.
Breanna looked. “Oh, that’s a teenage can.”
“A what?”
“You know, a canteen. Throw it back.”
Oh.
Then the boat lifted, clearing the edge. They were out, and back over normal land. Pia picked up the little can and tossed it to the nearby ground. She was relived to be across the chasm. “Where?” a harpy screeched.
“South,” Justin said. “Go toward the Good Magician’s castle.”
“Just how good is this Magician?” Pia asked.
Justin smiled. “He is not a Magician in the sense you may believe. He is called good as contrasted to evil. He’s the Magician of Information. He has a big Book of Answers that can answer any question.”
“Well, I hope he can answer ours.”
“One problem is that his answers are not necessarily intelligible at first. They are always correct, but sometimes a recipient does not understand until his adventure is over.”
“And for that they pay a year’s service?”
“After struggling to get into the castle,” he agreed.
“Why does he make it so difficult?”
“It is his way of discouraging frivolous inquiries. He prefers not to be bothered.”
“Maybe we’re wasting our time, going there.”
“No, I suspect it is the only way. Ordinary mortals are unable to deal with a surly demon.”
She remembered the Demon CoTwo, and had to agree.
“And there is the castle,” Justin said, pointing ahead. Then, to the harpies: “Just south of here. You will see the burnt foliage of the swearing-in ceremony at any moment.”
Sure enough, a blighted section of forest appeared below. The harpies descended.
“How can they cuss so villainously, when our bad words get bleeped?” Pia asked.
“They are largely immune to the Adult Conspiracy,” Justin said. “In any event, they are all adults, so have no reasonable limits.”
“But I’m adult, and I can’t say bleep.”
“You have the body of a sixteen year old girl, which may affect you, and you are in the presence of a true sixteen year old, so can’t speak with complete freedom.”
Xone of Contention Page 20