Air Apparent (4 page)

Well, that was plain enough. She would not ask any stupid questions. That was surely part of the Challenge.

She entered the garden, as there wasn’t much else to do, with her retreat closed off by the portcullis. She saw that each plant and pool was neatly labeled. There were assorted pie trees and milkweeds, but she doubted she was here to eat or drink. So she followed a path, knowing that it was bound to lead somewhere. Right ahead it crossed another path.

Suddenly a big red light flashed in front of her. She froze in place, held there magically. Had she ventured into a wrong place?

But then the light turned green, and she was free to move again. She realized it had been a stoplight. Just like Mundania, only here it was literal: she couldn’t move until it changed color.

“Got caught by the light, eh?” a man inquired from the other path.

“Yes,” Debra agreed, embarrassed.

“If there’s a problem, I can fix it,” the man said. “I’m a pathologist. I take care of enchanted paths.”

“Thank you, there’s no problem,” she said. Except where the third Challenge was, and she was sure she couldn’t ask him. Now she knew it was all right to talk, to answer, just not to ask.

She moved on quickly, because the man looked as if he were about to ask her name, and she didn’t want that.

She came to a pool where a red-haired woman and a girl were working. The girl was pointing to things, and the woman was using a net to catch them and lift them into a tank behind her. They looked like bundles of snakes.

The woman spied her. “Hello. I am Theresa, and this is Aurora Sky. We’re from Mundania.”

“So am I,” Debra said, gratified. “I’m Debra.” It was okay to tell her name to a woman.

“Oh, then you know how it is. We came here to ask Questions, and now are serving our Services.”

“I’ll be doing the same,” Debra agreed.

Aurora pointed. “Yes, that’s a good one,” Theresa said, and put the net to the water. She lifted out their catch.

Debra stared. That was no bundle of snakes. In fact it was a little monster! A creature with seven snapping heads. “Why are you saving those?” Debra asked.

Oops. She had asked a question.

“This is hydraponics,” Theresa explained. “We’re growing hydras in water. But first we have to catch them. Aurora is very good at spotting them.”

“I wasn’t supposed to ask,” Debra said, abashed.

“Oh, that’s too bad. Now you’ll pay a penalty. I’m sorry.”

“A penalty,” Debra agreed nervously.

Then suddenly she burst into giggles. She couldn’t help herself; her fit could not be contained. She rolled on the ground, stifled giggles bursting forth.

“Oh, it’s the Giggles!” Theresa said. “How awful!”

Debra tried to respond, but couldn’t speak around the ongoing giggles.

“It’s my fault,” Theresa said. “I distracted you, and you forgot. So I’ll help you to the extent I am able. The Giggles are a member of the Vole family. They are invisibly small. They get into your clothing and cause uncontrollable fits of giggling. They must have been waiting for you to give them the pretext. The only way to get rid of them is to wash them off, and out of your clothing. But that may not be easy.”

“Th—the—thank you!” Debra gasped between giggles. She scrambled toward the nearest pool.

“Not here!” Theresa said. “The hydra will get you.”

Now Debra saw that the little monsters were accompanied by a big monster in the water. The adult hydra could have swallowed her four limbs and one head with single gulps of five of its seven heads, and seemed eager to do so. Indeed, this was not the place to wash.

“I’m not allowed to tell you where,” Theresa said. “I’m so sorry.”

“That’s—hee hee!—all—giggle!—right,” Debra gasped. She scrambled on down the path, looking for water she could use before she expired of giggling.

She came to a larger pool of what looked like clear, clean water. But five men were dancing on it, to loud crude music. The sign said River Dancers, and evidently they had a joint talent that enabled them to dance on water. They were looking at her as they danced, perhaps appreciating the audience.

She would have to remove her clothing and get in the water right by their feet. They would be able to look down and see all of her without breaking their steps. She was giggling up a storm, but was not amused. At age thirteen she might not have as full a body as she would have soon, but she certainly did not want men staring at it bare. She struggled onward.

The next pond was private, but its identifying sign said Illixir. She stifled her giggles long enough to see that a chip of wood floated in it. It was probably healing elixir with reverse wood, so that instead of healing people it made them ill. She managed to poke a finger in the water, and immediately it felt as if it were festering. The chip was out of reach; she couldn’t pull it out and let the water revert to healing elixir. She had to move on.

The next pool was labeled Love Spring. If she bathed in that, she would fall in love with the next man she saw. That was no good, for more than one reason. She staggered on, still giggling. Her ribs were getting sore with all that laughing, but she couldn’t stop. Bleep those Giggles!

Another pool was labeled Hate Spring. That was worse.

Then she came to a pool that was on fire. Sure enough, it was labeled Firewater. It would boil her alive.

Then she got smart. She saw a chip of wood lying near it. It looked exactly like the chip of reverse wood she had seen before. She picked it up and flipped it into the water.

The flames extinguished. The pool had become the opposite of firewater, which should be water water.

Debra plunged in, clothing and all. Then she scrambled out of her clothing and swam naked. She was no longer giggling; she had washed off the invisible beasties. What a relief!

She caught her pieces of clothing and dragged them through the water, making sure everything was washed out. Then she climbed back to shore and shook herself dry. How glad she was that this pool was in a secluded glade!

But she still had to make it through the third Challenge. She was beginning to wonder: was this to be an endless array of puns and tricks? She had put up with it so far, but was it really worth it?

She pondered while her clothing dried. The more she thought about it, the more she was annoyed. Maybe it was time to do something about it.

First she had to get clothed. She waded back into the water and fetched the reverse wood chip. She carried it out and put it back where she had found it. The water reverted, the flames flickering across its surface. Good. She held her wet clothing up to that heat, getting it dried rapidly. She could make mistakes, she could get in trouble, she could get really depressed, but she didn’t have to be stupid. So maybe this wasn’t a regular part of the Challenge; she was bleeped if she’d go naked any longer than she had to.

Once she was clothed, she stood beside the pond and spoke loudly to the glade: “All right, Good Magician: I have played your game and made my way through your silly Challenges. I came here to seek your help, not to play a pointless game. If you can’t or won’t help me, I wish you would simply say so, instead of wasting my time and yours with such nonsense. If all you have for me is foolishness instead of common courtesy, then I have come to the wrong place. If you’re just trying to discourage me so I’ll go away, well, you have succeeded, because I don’t respect a person who lacks the nerve simply to say No. So either talk to me now, or I’ll go and seek help somewhere else.”

She paused. There was no answer. She was disappointed that her statement of principle hadn’t worked, but she didn’t regret it. She turned and started back the way she had come.

And discovered that the scene behind her had changed. Now there was an open door leading into an inner chamber. Was this the true inner castle, or another trick? Well, she would find out. She stepped through the door.

A woman met her. “Well spoken, Debra,” she said. “I am Wira, the Good Magician’s daughter-in-law. I will take you to see his wife, the Gorgon.”

“The Gorgon! The one whose face turns people to stone?”

“She wears a veil,” Wira assured her. “Please, this is important.”

It could also be another trick. But there seemed to be no harm in playing along for the moment. “I came to see the Good Magician, not to socialize.”

“This is business,” Wira assured her. “This way, please.”

The woman led her to what appeared to be the castle kitchen. There was a woodstove that somehow wasn’t burning itself up, an icebox whose ice somehow was not melting, and a table with appetizers. It looked rather mundane despite the magic of the equipment.

A tall veiled woman with extremely odd hair stood by the table. In fact her hair looked snaky. “Mother Gorgon, this is Debra, the querent,” Wira said.

“I’m not queer!” Debra snapped.

The Gorgon smiled under her veil. “Naturally not, dear. That’s querent as in a query, normally magical in nature. It’s a technical term we find useful. No offense is implied.”

“Oh.” Debra found herself blushing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If there is any embarrassment to be had, it is ours rather than yours. I will explain in a moment.” She gestured to the table. “Have some refreshments, Debra. You must be hungry.”

Actually, she was; she hadn’t eaten since raiding a pie plant in the morning before approaching the castle. But she remained cautious, because there was something about this situation that didn’t quite jibe. “I don’t know what to take. What do you recommend?”

“Well, there’s boot rear, which is good though you will get a kick out of it.” The Gorgon took up a paper cup brimming with brownish liquid.

Actually Debra knew about boot rear, having encountered it before. It was clearly a pun on root beer, with a magical quality. She accepted the cup and took a sip. Sure enough, she got lightly booted in the rear. Some drinks made a person dizzy; this one, as the Gorgon said, had a kick to it.

“And biscuits with monster cheese,” the Gorgon continued, proffering one. “Monsters have the very best taste in cheese.”

Debra nibbled at it. Again the woman was right: this was excellent cheese. Soon she was eating and drinking freely, rather enjoying the boots to her bottom. Boot rear was an acquired taste, and she was acquiring it. But she was also comfortable with the amitea and the punwheel cookies. Wira sat at the table with them, silent.

“Normally Magician Humfrey grants a querent an Answer, and requires her to perform a year’s Service, or equivalent,” the Gorgon said as Debra ate. “But we have a crisis that requires a different mode this time.”

“Something happened to the Good Magician?” Debra asked, alarmed.

“Not directly. His Book of Answers got scrambled, and he is deeply embroiled in putting it back in order. Until he accomplishes that, it is useless. So he will be unable to give you your Answer at present.”

“You mean I went through all this nonsense for nothing?” Debra demanded.

“We hope not,” the Gorgon said. “We may have an alternative.”

“But nobody has answers as good as the Good Magician’s,” Debra protested. “Even if they don’t seem relevant at first.”

“Dear, I know exactly what you mean,” the Gorgon said. “Some time back I was smitten with Humfrey, and I came to ask him whether he would marry me. Do you know, he made me serve a year’s Service keeping his castle before he gave me his answer?”

“He what?” Debra asked, almost choking on a piece of monsterella cheese.

“But you see, it did make sense. Humfrey is chronically grumpy, even at times irascible. By the time I had worked for him a year I was thoroughly familiar with his nature. He was giving me a chance to change my mind. When I didn’t, his Answer was Yes. And here I am today, still keeping his castle, one month in five and a half. He’s grumpy, but he’s also a near genius, and kind at heart, and of course I know how to manage him. Yes, his answers can be like that, but they always make wonderful sense when you fathom them.”

“So I understand,” Debra said. “But mine is very simple, and I’m hoping for a simple answer.”

“What is your Question, dear?”

Debra took a breath. “It connects to my name. Debra. It’s a curse I discovered when I came to Xanth. Every time a man learns my name, he takes it literally.”

The Gorgon’s veil furrowed. “I don’t believe I understand. No one can take your name; it’s yours.”

“De-Bra. He tries to take off my bra. It’s most embarrassing, and makes for very bad relations with the male gender. So my Question is, how can I nullify this curse?”

“How old are you, dear? You look young.”

“Thirteen.”

“Then you are covered by the Adult Conspiracy. No one can say anything or do anything that might give you any hint about how storks are signaled. Bras and panties relate; that’s why they’re so naughty.”

“I’m from Mundania. I know how storks are summoned, as you put it.”

The Gorgon nodded. “Maybe that fudges the proscription. Do you know why men are interested in bras?”

“Same reason they freak out at the sight of panties. It turns them on, and they want to—to do something about it.”

“Exactly. Of course they don’t freak out when they see bare naked nymphs, unless the nymphs put on panties or bras. That makes them seem human, and it is human flesh that does it for human men.”

“But they don’t even have to see my bra. Until they hear my name. Then suddenly they get this Idea, and I’m in trouble.”

“May we verify this, Debra? To understand exactly what we face?”

Debra shrugged. “If you must.”

The Gorgon glanced at the woman. “Fetch Opti and Pesi, please, Wira.”

Wira departed silently. In little more than a moment and a half she returned with a boy and girl who looked like twins.

“This is Opti Mystic,” the Gorgon said. “She sees only the good things about the future, when she focuses.” The girl smiled. “And this is Pesi Mystic, who sees only the bad future things. We are very cautious about asking them to look.”

“She’s got a wild and wonderful future,” Opti said as she looked at Debra.

“But there’s something about her that will ruin it,” Pesi said.