Isle of View

by Piers Anthony

  "I asked him, and he came and rubbed against my leg and purred, and my confidence was back. He must have brought it."

  Oh. Sammy had done that for Jenny in the past. She just hadn't seen it quite that way. "Che, I have talked to Godiva. She—please, I think you should listen to her. You don't have to make her deal, just agree not to tell."

  He looked at her. "If you tell me, I will listen."

  "I will tell you. But first we must go to a more comfortable chamber." She knocked on the door.

  It opened. Jenny led Che out, and Sammy came along, knowing that something was up. Without words they filed into the suite. "Food will be delivered if you ask," Godiva said as she closed the door behind them. "I will come when you ask for me, perhaps in the morning."

  "Thank you," Jenny said.

  Sammy promptly found a suitable cushion and settled down for the rest of his orange snooze. Che stood for a moment and looked around, plainly awed. "I did not realize that goblins had such accommodations."

  "They do for princesses, or whatever," Jenny said. She saw that he was tired, so she decided to abbreviate the discussion. "Let me tell you the essence now, and in the morning I'll tell you as much else as I know, if you want."

  "I appreciate that."

  "Remember, you must not tell anyone else, regardless what you decide about the deal she offers."

  "Of course. I did not want to be compromised by something extraneous, but since you have ascertained that it is not, I accept the terms."

  "She wants you to be the companion for her daughter, Gwenny, who will be the next chief if you help her, and will die if you don't—because she's lame and mostly blind. A female chief would try to make this a better tribe."

  Che had evidently been braced for something of significance, but this surprised him. "But females aren't goblin chiefs!" he protested.

  "This one can be, with your help."

  He pondered. "What kind of person is this goblin girl?"

  "I saw her only briefly. She's sleeping in the next chamber. She seemed nice, but of course I don't really know her."

  "Perhaps I can see her."

  "Oh, I don't think the door would be unlocked." Jenny said, trying it. It opened. She stared at it, dumbfounded. How could Godiva be so trusting?

  They entered. There by the dim light of the torch lay Gwenny Goblin, lovely in her sleep.

  "She is very like you," Che said.

  "Oh, no, she's—" But Jenny caught herself. "She is my age and size, but of course her ears are round and she has five fingers."

  "These hardly matter." He retreated, his hooves landing very lightly so as not to wake the girl.

  They returned to their own chamber and closed the door. "This alters the complexion," he said. "I must consider." Then he settled down on the carpeted floor, leaned against the carpeted wall, and went to sleep.

  Jenny gathered cushions and formed a bed beside him. She lay on it, and

  The light of morning woke her. She had not even been aware of falling asleep. She had been so tired, but now felt much refreshed. She blinked and stretched, and one hand encountered something furry and warm. Oh, yes, that was Che Centaur. He—

  She blinked again. Morning? How could that be, way down here in the anthill?

  She sat up and saw that the light was coming from an alcove. It seemed to be a well, with the chamber at the bottom, so that the light could come down. She saw that its sides were shiny, so that the light reflected. How nice! She had not noticed it at all in the night, but of course then it had been dark and would have looked like just a blank niche.

  By daylight the room was brighter and nicer than it had seemed by torchlight, and it had seemed nice enough then. This was evidently Gwenny's playroom that they were sharing.

  Gwenny! Was she still there? Jenny walked to the door between chambers, but hesitated. It wasn't her place to disturb the chief's daughter, after all. Besides which, she had something to do.

  She explored the chamber, and found a curtained compartment with a shiny stone surface, a basin, a crock of water, a sponge, two brushes, and a pot with a lid. She picked up the pot and sniffed it, then wrinkled her nose in disgust. That was what she was looking for, all right. She used the pot, then put the lid back on. Then she used the water and basin and sponge to clean herself again, getting rid of the faint lines of grime that had escaped her before. She brushed her hair, working out the tangles that had sneaked back in overnight. Not only did she feel better, she now felt quite good.

  She stepped out of the curtained alcove. Sammy was up, and pacing the floor. Oh.

  She went to the outer door and knocked. In a moment the bar lifted and it opened. A goblin face peeked in.

  "Oh, Moron!" Jenny said, recognizing him. At first all goblins had looked alike to her, but that was passing. "Can you get us a box of dirt?"

  He seemed surprised. "Not cookies?"

  She laughed. "Not to eat, silly! For Sammy." Then she reconsidered. "But bring some cookies too, or whatever is good for breakfast. For two." She re-reconsidered. "For three. And a dead rat, if you have one." For she realized that Sammy might not have much luck hunting, down here. Actually she wasn't sure what Sammy ate, because she never saw the results of his hunting.

  Moron smiled. He turned to the goblin behind him. "Three piles of cookies, a dead rat, and a box of dirt. They are hungry."

  Jenny bit her lip. It seemed that goblin males were not entirely sour.

  She turned back into the room. Che was awake now, and getting to his feet. He looked around. "There's a curtained place," she said, anticipating his need. She hoped he knew how to use the potty himself.

  It seemed he did. But meanwhile there was a sound from the next chamber. Jenny went to the door, and it opened as she reached it. Gwenny Goblin stood there, blinking in the way Jenny had. She was just Jenny's height. "Hello?" she said uncertainly.

  "Hello, Gwenny," Jenny said. "I am Jenny Elf. We met last night."

  "Oh, I thought I had dreamed it!" Gwenny said. "I was just going to the—"

  "It's being used right now."

  Gwenny tried to look across the room, but it seemed that her vision did not reach that far. "There's another girl?"

  "No, Che Centaur. He—your mother brought us here last night."

  "She did? Why?"

  "She would like Che to be your companion."

  "She would? Why?"

  "You mean you don't know?"

  Gwenny shook her head. "I don't know anything much. I get lonely, sometimes."

  Surely she did! Jenny had thought that Che was coming here to be a prisoner, but she realized that Gwenny always had been a prisoner. Godiva didn't want anyone to know of her infirmities, so she would have had little company. How awful!

  Che came out. "Hello, Gwenny," he said politely.

  Gwenny peered intently in his direction. "Are you really a centaur?" she asked, seeming doubtful.

  "Yes, albeit a small one. Didn't your mother—"

  "No," Jenny said quickly. Then, to Gwenny: "It's empty now. Let me walk across with you."

  "Oh, I can find it," Gwenny said. "I know where everything is, here, if it isn't moved." She walked across the room confidently enough. But she limped, for one leg seemed not to function perfectly. It looked all right; in fact it was a well proportioned leg, but it seemed not to bend the way it should.

  Then Jenny saw Sammy, who was lying in his bump-on-the-ground mode in the middle of the room. "Wait!" she cried, diving for the cat.

  Gwenny stopped. "Is something there?"

  "Sammy, my cat. He doesn't realize you can't see him." She picked Sammy up.

  Gwenny peered at Sammy, now at close range. "Oh, orange!" she exclaimed. "How pretty!"

  Jenny could tell that these two would get along. "Sammy, she can't see you well from a distance," she told him. "So you will have to find a place where she won't step." She set him down. She hoped that would work. He could find anything, but she hadn't tried this before.

  Ther
e was a sound from the outer door. "Oh, that will be breakfast," Jenny said. She was feeling quite organized, now. She crossed to it.

  Moron was there, with the box of dirt and a yellowish chunk of cheese in the form of a rat. Evidently they had found rat cheese instead of a rat. Maybe that would do. "Oh, thank you, Moron!" Jenny exclaimed, taking the box. She carried it to a corner near the curtained alcove and set it down. "There you are, Sammy; you know what it's for. The rat's yours, too." She hoped he would like the cheese; she really preferred it to a real rat.

  Sammy headed for the box. Meanwhile, Jenny returned to the door, where Moron had three piles of cookies. They were big cookies and tall piles; they filled Jenny's arms. She brought them into the center of the room, then wondered where to set them down.

  "I believe I saw a table in the other room," Che said.

  "Oh, good." Jenny lumbered through the door and dumped the cookies on the table.

  Gwenny emerged from the curtains and walked toward the sound. "I smell cookies," she said.

  "Yes, I got them for us," Jenny said. "Is it all right? Do you like cookies?"

  "Oh, yes! But Mother never gave them to me for breakfast."

  "Oh? What does she give you?"

  Gwenny scowled. "Pease porridge hot."

  "Oh, is that good?"

  "No. It's awful. But it's supposed to be good for me."

  "The Adult Conspiracy!" Jenny exclaimed, laughing.

  "Did you ever doubt?" Che inquired innocently.

  "Maybe Moron didn't realize," Jenny said.

  "Oh, you asked Moron!" Gwenny said. "He's not bright."

  "Why, who do you ask?" Jenny asked.

  "Mother usually brings it in."

  "That explains it. She's smart."

  "I think I wasn't smart, not to do what you did."

  "I just didn't know any better."

  "You see, Jenny is from another land," Che said. "She does not know local customs."

  "Oh, that must be fun!" Gwenny exclaimed. "I've never been out of the mountain."

  Jenny considered and decided not to argue the case. She missed her holt, but it would be awful to be confined to it all the time. So she ate her cookies, which were very good, and the others ate theirs. She hoped Sammy liked his cheese, but didn't care to call attention to it, lest he change his mind.

  "What is it like in your land?" Gwenny asked.

  Where should she begin? "It's a little like Xanth, but there aren't goblins or dragons, and most folk don't have magic talents. All the folk I know are like me, I mean with pointed ears and four-fingered hands, except for the human beings."

  "You have pointed ears?" Gwenny asked, peering at her closely. "Why so you do! I didn't realize! And you say your hands—are you sure?"

  Jenny held up a hand. Gwenny held up her own. They touched. Sure enough, they were of similar size, but the goblin girl had one extra finger.

  "Unlike the Xanth elves," Che said. "I think Jenny is unique in Xanth."

  "Unique?" Gwenny asked.

  "I mean that there is none other like her here."

  Gwenny clapped her hands. "Isn't that nice!"

  Jenny was getting thirsty. "I should have asked for something to drink."

  "Mother brings plain old wholesome milk pods," Gwenny said, wrinkling her nose.

  "I wonder if—" Jenny started.

  "It seems reasonable—" Che continued.

  "Let's try it!" Gwenny concluded.

  They got up and hurried to the outer door. Sammy was sleeping halfway there, but he was in Jenny's path, not Gwenny's. Evidently he had known where to find the spot where Gwenny wasn't going. Jenny jumped over him, as she was used to doing. He must have liked his cheese, because he hadn't protested. That was a relief.

  Jenny knocked on the door. In a moment it opened, and Moron's face appeared. "Some Tsoda Popka water, please," she said. "Any flavor, so long as it's good."

  He nodded. Soon it arrived: purple fizz flavored, in three bottles. Jenny took it and thanked him.

  Jenny, about to sip hers, paused. "Have you ever—?" she asked, putting her thumb over the top of the bottle. Electra had told her about this, and she was curious. According to Electra, Tsoda Pop got angry when confined and shaken, and swelled up in protest.

  "Covered the bottle?" Gwenny asked, peering at her hand. "No. Why?"

  "I am not certain this is proper," Che said.

  "But you're only five years old," Jenny reminded him. "You shouldn't know any better."

  "True."

  "What are you talking about?" Gwenny asked, perplexed.

  "This," Che said, giving his bottle a shake. The Popka frothed up and squirted Gwenny in the face.

  "Oh!" she exclaimed, astonished. "How did you do that?"

  "Like this," Jenny said, touching Gwenny's hand and guiding her thumb to the top. "Shake."

  Gwenny shook, hard. The Popka swelled up furiously and blasted out, spraying everything.

  In a moment they were all doing it, firing away until the bottles were only half full and too tired to froth any more. Then they drank what remained. It tasted awful, yet good, because of the fun they had had. They were all soaking, their dresses and fur ruined.

  "What has happened here?"

  All three jumped. It was Godiva!

  "I fear we have misbehaved," Che said contritely.

  Godiva frowned. But as her eyes focused on Gwenny, who was trying to be properly chastened but not succeeding very well, they softened. Jenny realized that Gwenny probably had not had many good times before. "Well, you will have to clean up and change your clothing. You reek of Tsoda!" Her gaze focused on Jenny. "Have you spoken with Che?"

  "Yes," Jenny said.

  The eyes focused on Che. "And have you come to a decision?"

  "No," Che said.

  Without a word, Godiva departed.

  "What did she mean?" Gwenny asked.

  "I guess we'd better get cleaned up," Jenny said. "And I guess I'd better tell you. Come on, I'll sponge you off, and you can sponge me off, and we'll talk."

  "But who will sponge me off?" Che asked, disappointed.

  "We both will," Jenny said.

  "Excellent."

  They had to send out for more water, and while they were at it they sent out the brimming potty for emptying. Soon they were cleaning up, while Che dutifully faced the door and closed his eyes.

  "Your mother says you can be chief, one day," Jenny explained to Gwenny. "But not if anyone finds out that you can't see very well."

  "That's true. They would dump me out as dragon bait, and Gobble would become chief."

  "Gobble?"

  "Gobble Goblin, the eldest half-son of my father."

  "Is he nice?"

  Gwenny grimaced. On her it looked cute. "He's the brattiest ten-year-old brat who ever existed." "Well, your mother thought that if she got you a centaur to ride, you could get around better, and he could watch out for things and tell you about them, so that no one would know you couldn't see them yourself. Then you could be chief."

  "Why, I never thought of that!" Gwenny exclaimed. "Maybe it's true! Centaurs are very smart."

  "So she brought Che. But it won't work unless he agrees."

  "But I thought you said he's only five years old!"

  "Yes. But by the time the time comes, you might be adult and so would he, so you could ride him."

  Gwenny considered. When the two of them were clean and in nice new dresses, and it was time to do the centaur foal, she asked: "How did she bring you here, Che?"

  "She abducted me."

  "I was afraid of that. It's the goblin way. So you didn't want to come here."

  "That is correct."

  Gwenny shook her head. "I'm sorry about this, Che. I didn't know. Of course you shouldn't stay here. I will tell Mother to let you go."

  "But what will become of you, Gwenny?" he asked.

  She shrugged. "Well, it's not much of a life anyway."

  Jenny felt her heart sink. The goblin girl
would survive only as long as her secret was kept, and she would never be able to go out among the goblins. That meant that eventually her condition would be discovered, and then it would be over. That probably wouldn't be good for the tribe, either, if a bratty brat took it over.

  "I have not decided," Che said.

  "But it isn't right to keep you away from your dam. I don't want to hurt you. I—" She paused. "What's this?"

  "One of my wings," Che said.

  "You have wings?"

  "I am a flying centaur. I can not fly yet, but in time I will."

  "I didn't know! I never heard of a flying centaur!" "I believe there were none in Xanth, before my sire and dam appeared," he said. "At least, not currently. We are trying to become a new species."

  "That makes it even worse! You can't be a new species if you're captive!"

  "Untrue. Were I to agree to be your companion in this fashion, I would no longer be held captive and could go where I wished, as long as you were with me and agreed to go."

  Gwenny nodded. "Because a centaur never breaks an agreement. Still, it isn't right."

  "I am not certain," Che said. "In fact, I am unable to come to a decision. So I shall delegate it to another."

  "Who?"

  "Jenny Elf."

  Jenny jumped. "No! I can't decide for you, Che! Not on something that affects your whole life like that!"

  "I think you shall have to, for I can not, and a decision needs to be made." And his little jaw set in that way she recognized.

  "All right, Che, I'll decide," she said. "But not right now. I'll have to think about it. A lot."

  "But while you're thinking," Gwenny said wistfully, "can we be friends?"

  "Yes, of course," Jenny said, touched. "In fact, while I'm thinking, I will try to help you see things, so you can go out among the goblins."

  "Oh, thank you!" Gwenny cried, jumping in joy. "I've always wanted to go out, but except when my mother took me, I couldn't."

  Jenny nodded, understanding exactly how it was. She had no idea how she was going to decide, but at least this meant she didn't have to rush. It occurred to her that this was like Prince Dolph's dilemma, in which he had to choose between Betrothees and one would die if he chose wrong. Gwenny would die if Jenny chose wrong.