Knot Gneiss

by Piers Anthony

  “That object you left on your wagon. The gneiss rock.”

  “It’s not nice,” she said, not caring that the local reverse wood was not nullifying her dialect spell.

  “Correct. It is a terror. We are fearful to approach it.”

  Now the other members of the Quest were catching on. The Knot had burned through its shield and was radiating its petrifying malice.

  “Fancy that,” Wenda remarked without sympathy.

  “Could you—would you move it?”

  “Why should we want to do that?” She was enjoying this, and the others were stifling smirks and snickers.

  “It is obstructing our exit! We fear to go near it.”

  “It is merely a not of reverse would,” Wenda said reasonably. “You surely have seen similar things before.”

  “Not like this! What have you done to it?”

  “Nothing. It did it to itself. It’s petrified.”

  Now he began to understand. “Old wood. Transformed by time.”

  “That’s right. Now that you understand it, you should have no further problem. Just ignore it.”

  Gnever looked pained. “We can’t. The effect is too strong, too close to our door.”

  “That’s odd,” Wenda said. “We do. It would be no trouble for us to move it. But we can’t.”

  “Can’t?”

  “We are confined to quarters here. Don’t you remember?”

  The gnome was starting to look ill. “If we—if we let you go?”

  Wenda considered. “Actually we are coming to like it here. We are in no hurry to go.”

  Gnever knew he was being manipulated. “What—what do you want?”

  “What do you have? Aside from winsome damsels?”

  “We made many reverse-wood artifacts for export. Swords, arrows, or simply arrowheads. Those can be devastating on other worlds.”

  Wenda considered. “Perhaps we could use a supply of those. Give them to Prince Ida.”

  Hope flared. “Then you will move it?”

  “We will take it with us when we go. Provided there are no further complications.”

  “No complications!” he agreed eagerly.

  Wenda shrugged. “Perhaps we should have breakfast before we go.”

  Soon they were at the morning banquet, with their gnome companions of the day before. “You were magnificent,” Gnaughty murmured. “I’ve never before seen Gnever sweat like that.” She was showing no freakish flesh.

  “You aren’t angry because we are not staying?”

  “We do what we have to do.” Gnaughty lowered her gaze. “I have a boyfriend I’d rather entertain, no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  The Knot was no trouble. Wenda went first and replaced the seeds in the net, nullifying its baleful glare. Then the others joined her. Jumper changed to roc form, and they wheeled the wagon onto his back. They reverted to their natural genders as they left contact with the ground.

  The assembled gnomes stared. “He’s a Magician!” Gnever exclaimed, staring at the monstrous bird. “If he had done that underground—”

  “There was no need,” Wenda said cheerfully. “We knew you would reconsider in the morning, being nice people.”

  Gnaughty was not the only gnome to stifle a giggle. They were, after all, good sports.

  Then Jumper got to his feet, taxied, pumped his wings, and took off. The gnomes below and behind waved.

  “We forgot to demand the location of the Door!” Meryl said, stricken.

  “Not so,” Wenda said smugly. “Jumper took it from them telepathically. We are flying there now.”

  Hilarion, changing to his masculine clothes, nodded. “You are truly a princess.”

  The others applauded. Wenda blushed.

  But he’s right, Jumper thought. You showed real leadership qualities throughout. Right from the start when you told me to get that Door location.

  Wenda continued to blush. She had merely seen what she had to do, and done it.

  They descended a relatively short distance up the trunk where there was a mountain range of bark masking a winding valley, a crevice in the bark. But as they approached, the scale of it became evident: the formation was huge. This was after all a planet, whose details were landscapes. In that valley was a lake, and on the lake was an island. On the island was a single hill, like an overgrown branch, and in the side of the hill was a cave. It looked exactly like a knothole, by no coincidence.

  Jumper landed neatly on a plain beside the hill. They dismounted and rolled the wagon off. Jumper reverted to manform.

  As their feet touched the ground, the scenery changed. The hill became a giant pit, the cave an ugly boulder. But they knew it was the familiar image reversal.

  “The Sidewalk and Door are within,” Wenda said. “There is a path. All we have to do is follow it.”

  Buoyed by the success of their search, they rolled the wagon down into the masked cave.

  As they entered the cave things changed again. The wood is situational reversal, Jumper thought. I picked that up from the gnomes. His body was now that of a fly, so he had to speak telepathically.

  “Completing the five aspects of Reverse World,” Hilarion agreed. He was now a pauper.

  “It is surely bearable,” the child Ida agreed.

  “But hardly comfortable,” Demoness Angela said.

  “I agree!” Meryl said. She had resumed the fish-headed, human-legged form, complete with the panties that threatened to freak Hilarion out. She quickly donned a skirt Ida provided.

  And Wenda, overwhelmed by the ambiance, discovered herself to be a reversed woodwife: only her backside existed, while her frontside was hollow. “We shall endure,” she said bravely, not at all pleased.

  They resumed motion—and walked carelessly into trouble. The path was there, but reversed; what looked like a rise was a descent. Before they knew it, the wagon was rolling ponderously down.

  Hilarion and Jumper labored to hold it back, while fish-headed Meryl and Demoness Angela ran helplessly beside it. The child Ida, behind, could do nothing. All of them were hampered by their unfamiliarly reversed bodies.

  Wenda, walking beside it, saw a chasm to the side. She tried to push the wagon away from it, but lacked sufficient substance to move it. Her footing gave way and suddenly she was falling into the gulf.

  It had all happened so suddenly there had been no time to figure out a better course. Wenda, falling, knew she was done for. She might be only half a woman, but the fall would crush and splinter what remained of her. She was doomed.

  Then someone caught her. It was the Demoness Eris, carrying her back up to the path where the wagon had finally halted. Things were abruptly back to normal, at least as normalcy was defined by this region.

  “You saved me!” Wenda exclaimed. “I would have died.”

  “I had to,” Eris agreed. “It is what friends do.”

  “But now you will be in trouble with the other Demons,” Ida said.

  “Will they hold a trial?” Meryl asked, bemused.

  “I’m sure they will,” Ida said. “In their fashion. Capital-D Demons can be very possessive of their territorial imperatives.”

  A somber courtroom formed about them. Now Eris was confined to a booth marked DEFENDANT. The rest of them were their normal, unreversed selves, except for Wenda, who remained hollow in front. This was definitely Demon business.

  The Demon Reversal appeared, in the form of a tree. “I hereby charge the Demoness Eris with Infringement on my Domain,” he said. “That is a Violation of Demon Protocol. The penalty is the forfeit of one Status Point and elimination of the change she made.”

  Wenda knew that was a serious matter to a Demon, because all they really cared about was Status. It was even more serious to her personally, because elimination of the change would mean that she would not have her life saved. But she couldn’t protest, because she, like the other members of the Quest, was now relegated to the Witness section and was unable to speak or mov
e. What would happen would happen.

  A panel of three Judges appeared. One had a vaguely human body and a head like a small planet; another was female with an aspect like a small distant galaxy; the third was in the form of a dragon ass, with the body of a dragon and the head of a donkey.

  Suddenly Wenda realized whom that last one was. The Demon Xanth! He was said to like the dragon-ass form, though it was hard to fathom why.

  “We are the Demon Panel for this Decision: Xanth, Fornax, and Pluto, selected by our interest of the moment. Who is to be your Defense Attorney?” Xanth asked Eris.

  “Angela Angel.”

  Angela flew up out of the Witness section, surprised almost out of her wits. “But I know nothing about legal matters,” she protested.

  “Here is what you need to know,” Xanth said. “Win and you will be rewarded. Lose and you will be punished. Now proceed with your case.”

  Angela looked as if she was about to wet her nonexistent panties. “But—but—I’m an angel! This is Demon business. I can’t possibly—”

  “Do not argue,” Eris murmured from the booth, “lest you and I both suffer grievously. Call your Witnesses. Make your case.”

  Angela moved her hands about, collecting the wits that remained in reach. She evidently realized that she was stuck for it. “First we must establish exactly what happened,” she said. “I call Wenda Woodwife to the stand.”

  Wenda found herself in the Witness Stand, now free to speak. “I fell,” she said. “I was about to perish, when the Demoness Eris rescued me. I owe my life to her.”

  “Why did she do this?” Angela asked.

  “For friendship.”

  “What nonsense is this?” the Demon Reversal demanded. “I do not know this word.”

  “It means being on good terms with another person,” Wenda explained boldly. “Being respectful, affectionate, caring.”

  “This is not rational.”

  “Yes.”

  “So why did she really do it? To spite me?”

  “To save me.”

  “You’re a mortal!” he exclaimed, as if that refuted her statement.

  “I am.” Wenda was almost beginning to enjoy this. The Demons were reacting a tiny trifle like the Gnarly Gnomes.

  Reversal turned to the Panel. “The Witness admits it. The Defendant did it for no rational reason. She must be Penalized.”

  Xanth turned to Angela. “How does your client plead?”

  “She did it,” Angela said. “But it was justified on the basis of friendship.”

  There was a visible stir among the Judges. “We have not before encountered such a Defense,” Xanth said. “Have you no more comprehensible rationale to offer?”

  “No,” Angela said. “I feel this is sufficient.”

  “Then we will proceed to the Deliberation leading to the Vote,” Xanth said.

  The Demoness Fornax came forward. She glanced at the Witnesses. “You,” she said to Hilarion. “Who are you, and what is your business here?”

  What was going on? But Wenda, no longer the Witness, was unable to speak. It was Hilarion who was free to do so now.

  “I am Prince Hilarion, looking for my lost bethrothee.”

  “You are a handsome mortal man. As such, you have a certain incidental appeal.”

  If he was taken aback, he did not show it. “Thank you.”

  “Are you also Wenda’s friend?”

  “Yes, I like to think so.”

  “Would you save her from death if you could?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you Eris’s friend?”

  “No, I would not presume to so aspire. I respect her and appreciate what she did, but that’s not the same.”

  “Would you prefer to see her exonerated?”

  “Yes, because she saved my friend.”

  “Understand this,” Fornax said. “If Eris loses, she will forfeit one Status Point and what she did will be undone. Your friend Wenda will die. If Eris wins, she will not forfeit a Point and Wenda will survive as she is now, a half woman. That is the standard compromise when a mortal inconveniences a Demon.”

  “I didn’t know,” Hilarion said, taken aback.

  “Marry me, and I will vote Yes for exoneration.”

  Wenda was amazed and appalled by this extreme cynicism. The Demoness was openly selling her Vote! Why did she even want to marry a mortal man?

  Hilarion looked surprised. “I respectfully decline.”

  Fornax considered. “I will amend my offer. Marry me, and I will vote Yes and give you immortality.”

  Hilarion gulped. “No.”

  Fornax was unfazed. “I will amend again. I will give you those two things plus ultimate sex.” Now her form changed to that of a blindingly beautiful human woman.

  Hilarion’s eyes started to crystallize. “No,” he gasped.

  “Are you sure?” The Demoness’s dress faded out, so that she was standing in bra and panties, both amazingly supple and well filled.

  “N-no,” Hilarion gasped.

  Fornax pounced. “You are not sure?”

  He struggled to get out the words. “K-k-kiss me.”

  The Demoness smiled a smile of incipient victory. She approached him, embraced him, and kissed him. Hearts, planets, and stars shot like rockets out of the contact of their lips, and a wisp of perfumed smoke rose. She let him go and he sank back limply, hardly aware of the universe, let alone his immediate surroundings.

  “Now what is your answer?” she asked imperatively.

  His mouth struggled valiantly to form the words. “You are not she.”

  “Not what?”

  “Not my bethrothee.”

  A small dark cloud formed over her head. “What is your answer?”

  “No.”

  “Then I will vote No.” She returned to the Judges’ Panel.

  What had Hilarion done? It defied comprehension.

  The Demon Xanth spoke. “What governed your decision, Hilarion?”

  “Friendship.”

  “You could have garnered a vote to save your friend’s life, and had immortality and ultimate sex for yourself. How does turning down the deal benefit your friend?”

  Wenda wondered too.

  “I could not endure seeing my friend reduced to such a wretched state. How could she exist as half a woman?”

  He thought this would be torture for Wenda? Then Wenda realized that he had never known her in her original woodwife state. He had a horrible idea of it, having seen only her recent reversed variant. And she was unable to speak to tell him that she would much rather live as a half woman, whichever half, than die as a whole one.

  “So you did this for friendship?” Xanth asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I remain curious about the strength of this irrational feeling.” Xanth looked at Meryl. “Who are you?”

  Now Meryl alone could speak. “I am Meryl Winged Mermaid.”

  “Are you also friends with Wenda?”

  “I am.”

  “I will summon your ideal male, a handsome and virile winged merman, to join you and be your mate, if you will renounce that friendship.”

  “No!” she explained, pained.

  “He knows you exist, but does not know where to find you. The two of you may never get together otherwise. That would be unfortunate, as he is already half in love with you just from the knowledge of your nature. He is a fine and generous man. Will you make the deal?”

  Tears flowed down Meryl’s face. “I can’t.”

  “Interesting.” Xanth looked to the side. Wenda was able to follow his gaze. There was a beautiful young mortal woman. She nodded slightly.

  “I vote Yes,” Xanth said.

  Then Wenda realized that the woman was the Demon Xanth’s mortal wife, Chlorine. He had half her soul, so he could understand friendship if he tried. Chlorine certainly understood, and had signaled him to vote Yes. She had much more concern with mortals than a Demon did.

  The Demon Pluto took the floor. “I
too am curious about the limitations of this mortal phenomenon.” He looked at Ida. “Who are you?”

  It was Ida’s turn to speak. “I am Princess Ida, sister of King Ivy.”

  “You have an interesting talent. We came here because of it. No mortal talent can control Demons, but we felt its intriguing tug and decided to honor it. What exactly is it?”

  “It is the power of the Idea,” Ida said. “The planet that seems to orbit my head is Ptero, where the Idea of all living or theoretical characters exists. This is a link rather than a literal orbiting. It links in turn to a large loop of other worlds with other characters and rules of magic. All are connected by the Idea of their association. In addition, I am able to confirm any Idea locally, provided it is suggested by someone who does not know about this aspect of my talent.”

  Meryl could not speak, but Wenda was aware that she was startled. Hilarion would have to delete her memory of this dialogue, when he got the chance.

  “You are nevertheless unmarried.”

  “I am.” Ida smiled wishfully. “Not entirely by choice. I simply never encountered the right man.”

  “I will introduce you to your ideal man, who will be smitten with you the moment he recognizes you, and you will marry him and live happily ever after, as long as you both shall live, etc. In return you must renounce your friendship with Wenda.”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “If your ideal man does not locate you, he will never marry any other woman, and will live out his life in solitary sorrow. He knows there is only one woman for him, and that you are that one, though he does not know your identity. Do you wish to do this to him?”

  Now the tears were on Ida’s face. “No.”

  “Then will you make the deal?”

  “No,” Ida sobbed.

  “You will give up your happiness and his for the sake of your friendship with a forest nymph?”

  “Yes,” Ida whispered.

  “Interesting,” Pluto said, as Xanth had. He glanced to his side, where a fair young princess sat. Wenda recognized her: Princess Eve! She had married him last year, and given him half her soul. He too had a basis to understand, if he chose to.

  Eve nodded. Pluto spoke. “I vote Yes.”

  The Demoness Eris had won, two votes to one. She would receive no loss of a Point. And Wenda would live.