Knot Gneiss

by Piers Anthony

  “I’m sure one is,” Ida agreed.

  And there she was: a wheeled Robust with a fine bare female chest with twin turrets. Hilarion’s eyes locked in place.

  The female Robust rolled up to the male and pressed her metal torso close. Sparks flew.

  The party moved by during the romantic distraction, still hauling the wagon.

  Now they came to a patch of lovely purple flowers. “Lilax,” Wenda said, identifying the plant. “They never tell the truth. Don’t smell them, or you will be unable to tell the truth either.”

  “Could we reverse that with a chip of our wood?” Jumper asked.

  “We might,” Ida said. “But I think we don’t want to weaken the protective shield around the Knot even a trifle if we don’t have to.”

  “What does encourage truth?” Hilarion asked.

  “Truthlax.”

  “Is there any of that here?”

  “There must be,” Meryl said. “Because the pun antidotes are always close. Isn’t that what you said, Wenda?”

  “I did say that,” Wenda agreed, again feeling like Ida.

  “There must be,” Ida herself agreed.

  And there was a patch of yellowish-blue flowers. Truthlax. Their fragrance made them all eager to tell the truth. “Where is the Sidewalk?” Wenda asked it.

  The truthlax flowers leaned to the left. The lilax flowers leaned to the right.

  “Thank you.” Wenda led the way left.

  But there was no Sidewalk. Instead there was a burning house. No, it was a house made of fire. There were firemen, also formed of fire, and it was surrounded by a wall of fire: a firewall.

  They approached, cautiously, as there was no other way to go. Immediately the two firemen on guard raised their weapons: firearms. One fired a jet of flame, a warning shot. They could not pass.

  “I think we need another idea,” Wenda said.

  “What do firemen do for entertainment?” Meryl asked.

  “I believe they attend firemen’s balls,” Ida said. “That’s where their true flames are.”

  “Then maybe what we need is a fireball.”

  “We surely do,” Ida agreed.

  “Considering this environment,” Hilarion said, “we may want to look in a ballpark.”

  That was a good idea. They cast about, and saw a park to the side. It was piled high with balls of every type. And there in a corner was a fireball.

  “We need to get it to the firehouse,” Wenda said. “But it looks way too hot to touch.”

  “I may be able to move it,” Jumper said. He walked to the far side of the ball, then changed form, becoming a giant blowfish. He blew hard, exhaling a fierce gust of wind.

  The fireball flamed up, but it also began to move. Jumper followed it on his flippers, blowing, keeping it going. As it came near the firehouse, it expanded, becoming as large as the house. Within it Wenda could see the dancing flames, writhing evocatively. They looked like burning nymphs.

  The firemen spied the ball. They lost interest in all else, and ran to join their flames.

  And Wenda’s party pulled the wagon past the house. One more punfest had been defeated.

  But still they were not finding the Sidewalk. “How much of this infernal mess do we have to put up with?” Hilarion demanded.

  “Now you understand why we abhor the Strip,” Ida said.

  “I do indeed. I thought puns were harmless, but some of these ones are dangerous, and they are certainly inconvenient.”

  “We need more suggestions to navigate them,” Ida said.

  “I will see to that.” He looked at Meryl. “You seem to have a productive imagination. For every useful idea you come up with, to deal with these festering horrors, I will kiss you.”

  “Is this a promise or a threat?” Meryl asked with an undefined portion of a smile.

  “Both.”

  “I will hold you to it.”

  Now they oriented on the way ahead. This was a seemingly harmless field of rye grass.

  “I do not trust this,” Hilarion said.

  “Do we have a choice?” Jumper asked.

  “No,” Wenda said, and walked into the field. The others followed, hauling the wagon.

  “Hay!” Meryl said.

  Wenda turned to her. “What?”

  “Hay hay hay! I think I’ve got hay fever,” Meryl said, sneezing.

  Then the others were doing it too. There was a chorus of hays interspersed by sneezes and arguments. What was happening? The group was not normally this fractious.

  Wenda looked more closely at the plants of the field. “Now I understand. This is not rye, it’s wry. It is making us react wryly. To be perverse or distorted.”

  “Then let’s get the bleep on through it,” Hilarion snapped.

  They hurried, but soon came up against a fort with a nasty attitude. It sat directly across the path, and had embrasures with crossbows galore. Meryl flew toward it, and several bolts were loosed at her. Only the fact that their party was still out of range prevented them from striking her.

  They halted, gazing at the fort. “I don’t see anybody inside it,” Jumper said. “Those crossbows seem to be operating on their own.”

  “That means we can’t reason with them,” Wenda said.

  “Who is holding down the fort?” Hilarion asked.

  “I’ll go see,” Angela said. She flew toward the fort. The crossbows did not loose at her, perhaps aware that she lacked substance and so could not be hit.

  Angela landed at the base of the fort where the wall touched the ground. Then she flew back. “It is definitely being held down,” she reported. “The walls are made of cloud stuff that normally floats, but they are pressing down the wry grass. Something is pushing it to the ground.”

  “An invisible giant!” Jumper exclaimed. “That’s who is holding down the fort.”

  “Another confounded pun,” Hilarion remarked wryly. He couldn’t help it.

  “How do we get an invisible giant to let go?” Wenda asked.

  “Maybe Meryl has an idea,” Hilarion said.

  “For a kiss!” Meryl remembered. “If it works.”

  “If it works,” he agreed.

  Meryl considered. “I don’t suppose we could just ask the giant?”

  “We could try,” Jumper said.

  Meryl flew up to where the giant’s head might be. “Please Mister Giant, stop holding down the fort.”

  Now they heard the giant’s thunderous response: “HO HO HO!” There was a vaguely green tinge to the sound.

  “So much for that,” Jumper said. “These puns will not let go voluntarily.”

  Meryl fluttered back down. “Maybe that didn’t work, but seeing the field below me gave me another idea. If we could get the giant to roll in the wry and get hay fever, he won’t be able to keep holding down the fort.”

  “How can we get him to do that?” Jumper asked, interested.

  “Well, if there’s a summer salt pun nearby—”

  “I’m sure there is,” Ida agreed.

  And there was. They saw a salt lick to the side, with winter, spring, and summer salt. Meryl flew there, picked up a shaker, and promptly flipped over in the air.

  “Somersault,” Hilarion agreed, almost smiling.

  Meryl flew crazily upward, constantly turning over as the salt affected her. She returned to the region of the giant’s head. Then she unscrewed the shaker’s cap and flung the contents out into the invisible face.

  “HO HO OOPS!” the giant sounded as the salt took effect. Then he must have somersaulted onto the field, because it flattened with his invisible contact. “BLEEP!” he cursed as the wry grass took effect.

  The fort, loosed, floated up up and away.

  In a large moment the giant overcame his wryness and ran after the disappearing fort. They saw and heard his giant footprints.

  They didn’t wait. They hauled the wagon rapidly across the field and through the region where the fort had been. By the time the giant returned with the
fort, they were safely beyond.

  “About that kiss,” Meryl said.

  “Ah, yes,” Hilarion agreed. He enfolded her and kissed her so effectively that several little hearts flew up.

  But Wenda’s attention was taken by something else. “The Sidewalk!” she exclaimed.

  Indeed, there it was at last. “Get on it, sidle right, and through the door,” Wenda said, afraid that the Sidewalk would not remain there long.

  The men hauled the wagon up to the walk, but the wheels stalled against the raised edge. They heaved the front wheels up, but the rear ones remained off. Wenda and Ida pushed and lifted together, and with a struggle managed to get them over the rim. Then they had to get the wagon turned sideways to move along the walk. It almost tipped over, which would have rolled the Knot off; they barely leveled it in time.

  “I have the feeling that the Knot is enjoying this,” Ida gasped. “I feel its underlying malignity despite the effect of the reverse wood.”

  “The Strip must have worn out the wood faster,” Wenda agreed.

  “It’s a nuisance, having to keep changing it,” Meryl said. “But what choice do we have?”

  They rolled the wagon to the Door. “Open it,” Wenda called.

  Hilarion did so. Then they wheeled the wagon through. As it got clear of the doorway, Wenda made a last check to be sure all members of their party were present, then slammed it shut. They were back.

  “That’s a relief,” Meryl said. “Those puns are corrosive.”

  “Something is odd,” Hilarion remarked, looking around. “I have traveled Xanth somewhat, but have never seen this region.”

  “I agree,” Jumper said. “This is new to me.”

  Ida looked. “Uh-oh,” she said. “I fear this isn’t Xanth.”

  “Of course it’s Xanth,” Wenda said. “Where else could it be?”

  Meryl got an unkind notion. “Which Door did we go through?”

  “The one at the end of the right Sidewalk, of course,” Wenda said.

  “I think it was the left one,” Angela said. “I thought I had confused what you said when I saw it happen.”

  Oh, no! “The reverse wood,” Wenda said. “It reversed our direction. We went through the wrong Door!”

  “Then where are we?” Hilarion asked.

  “That, I fear, remains to be discovered,” Ida said sternly. “The left door leads to parts unknown. It could be any world in the circuit.”

  “Any world in the endless loop?” Jumper asked.

  “That is my understanding. I believe it is a random access.”

  They exchanged alarmed glances. What had they blundered into?

  The Knot was grimly amused.

  8

  REVERSE WORLD

  Actually the scene was pleasant enough: a gently undulating white cloud surface where a number of angels flew, perched, and sang sweetly.

  “Can this be Heaven?” Hilarion asked. “We may be fortunate to have a native guide.”

  “This is not Heaven,” Angela said. “At least, not any province of Heaven I know of. But I will inquire.”

  She flew to the nearest angel, a handsome male, while the others waited with the wagon. The two held a momentary dialogue. Then the male angel tried to grab Angela and throw her down on the cloud. Angela screamed and leaped free. The other angel’s hands passed through her body without effect. What was going on?

  Angela flew back to the group. “That’s no angel!” she said. “That’s a demon! He tried to—to r*pe me!”

  “To rape you!” Ida said, appalled.

  “Yes. But he couldn’t hold me, because I am immaterial here, while he is material. His form is illusion. This is definitely not Heaven. It could be H*ll.”

  “How can this be?” Jumper asked. “How can Hell pretend to be Heaven?”

  “I don’t know. But now I realize it’s not H*ll either, because real demons would have the same reality there that I do. It is something else.”

  “So it seems,” Ida agreed, frowning.

  “Before we go further, we need to know what we’re up against,” Wenda said. “Are the demons real or illusion?”

  “I may be able to help,” Jumper said. “I tend to forget it because I’m not used to it, but Eris made me invulnerable as well as giving me the power to change forms. So even a solid physical demon can’t hurt me.” He assumed the form of a male angel, complete with halo, and flew out to meet the thing that had attacked Angela. He had forgotten to scrounge for clothing, but maybe it didn’t matter.

  A female angel flew in to intercept him. The others of the Quest watched as she floated before him, speaking to him. Then she came forward to kiss him. Only as her face touched his, she opened her mouth to show sharply pointed teeth, and bit his face.

  Jumper, unharmed, put his hands on her body and lifted her away from him. She struggled, but his spider strength held her captive. Now Wenda could hear their dialogue.

  “Who or what are you?” Jumper demanded. “I think you’re no angel.”

  “Of course I’m a blessed angel,” she said. “See my body. Feel it.” She put her hands to her dress and tore it asunder to reveal an extremely shapely torso. “Are you man enough to handle that?”

  “That’s a demoness!” Angela whispered, amazed. “That body, that attitude. Heavenly creatures never acted like that.”

  Jumper remained frozen in place. “Oh, bleep!” Wenda swore. “She freaked him out with that exposure.”

  “He’s your close friend,” Meryl said. “Can you reach his mind?”

  “Yes, maybe.” Wenda reached out telepathically, jogging his blank mind. Jumper! See her through my eyes. A body with too much meat on it.

  Jumper revived. Thank you. Stay connected, neutralizing her meat.

  Gladly, she agreed. Now question her.

  “I am just looking for some information,” Jumper said. “Why did you try to bite me?”

  “I thought you were an angel. Now I know you are of harder stuff. I’d like to get a piece of it.” She glanced at his midsection in such a way that he blushed. She was certainly no angel.

  I am at a loss, Jumper thought to Wenda. What do I do or say now?

  She’s a demoness, Wenda thought back. Ask her what world this is.

  Evidently perplexed, Jumper obeyed. “What world is this?”

  “You must really be from the backwoods! It’s Reverse, of course.”

  Then Wenda got an idea. Read her mind.

  Jumper held the demoness before him another moment and a half. Then he threw her away and returned to the group. “Ugh! Demon minds are ugly.”

  “Did you learn anything useful?” Wenda asked.

  “Yes. This is Reverse World, made entirely of reverse wood or its equivalent. It is shaped like a giant reverse-wood tree. We are standing on the trunk section. Nothing is what it seems. Demons seem like angels, and vice versa. They look, sound, and feel like their opposites. This is true for everything.”

  “Amazing,” Hilarion said. “How will we navigate it, assuming we have any idea where to go to find a Door back to Xanth, or—ugh—Comic?”

  “I think we shall have to learn to appreciate it for what it is,” Ida said. “That is, to know that whatever we encounter is actually its opposite. With that caution we should be able to travel.”

  “There was a Door here,” Meryl said. “There must be a Door back.”

  “I’m sure there is,” Ida agreed.

  “The Doors on Comic are in the Strips,” Jumper said. “But I doubt there are Strips here. The Door must be in the least likely place. That is, the reverse of what seems likely.”

  “I should think a Door would be set in the trunk,” Wenda said. “So maybe it’s in the foliage instead.”

  “That makes reverse sense,” Hilarion agreed.

  “So let’s travel to the foliage,” Jumper said. “If we can find it.”

  “I will find it,” Angela said. She flew straight up, impossibly high. Wenda realized that she was trying to gain th
e magic of perspective so she could see enough of the planet to make out its outline.

  Soon she returned. “That way,” she said, pointing.

  “Next question,” Hilarion said. “How do we get there, when we can’t even take a step without endangering ourselves?”

  Now Wenda had an idea so bright that the bulb almost blinded the group. “Jumper can change to more forms than just the few he’s had so far. He could become a big roc bird and carry us and the wagon swiftly there.”

  “I could,” Jumper agreed, surprised. “I’m not used to multiple form changing, so haven’t tried it. But I’d want to practice with the roc form first, lest I be clumsy and dump the rest of you into a volcano or something.”

  “Practice,” Ida said encouragingly.

  But now a dragon was approaching. It was a fierce fire-breather, monstrously huge, and it looked ready to toast them all with a single snort of fire.

  “Maybe I’d better become a dragon to balk it,” Jumper said.

  “Wait,” Ida said. “If nothing here is what it seems, we should check for its opposite. It may be harmless.”

  “That’s right,” Jumper agreed. “But how can we be sure? We don’t want to get fried.”

  “Use your invulnerability,” Wenda suggested. “Meet it as something harmless.”

  Jumper became a fluffy white lamb. He frisked out to meet the dragon—and the dragon reared back, turned about, and fled.

  “So it was a lamb, or some other harmless creature,” Ida concluded. “And it thought Jumper was a dragon, reversing to look meek.”

  That seemed to be the case.

  “I wonder if the angel/demons would know where the Door is?” Meryl said musingly.

  That was a question, rather than an opinion, so Ida could not agree to it and make it so.

  “What do you think?” Wenda asked.

  “I have no idea.”

  So much for that. “Let’s camp here for now,” Wenda suggested. “There must be some food the demons eat, since they are solid here. We should get some for us.”

  “I will look,” Ida said. She brought out a basket from somewhere. Evidently she had joined the Quest well prepared for incidental chores.

  “So will I,” Wenda said.

  “I will come too,” Angela said.

  That left the men and Meryl to watch the Knot. Wenda did not want to leave it unattended. It seemed too satisfied to be here, and she did not trust that at all. Could it have some devious plan for escape?