“I appreciate the point.”
“I am sure you do, being a princess in your own right.”
She shrugged. “We are all constrained to be what we must be.”
“We are indeed,” he agreed. “Though on rare occasion there might be a tinge of regret.”
“Exactly.”
Wenda, a princess by marriage, found it interesting to see how those to the manner born behaved. They understood nuances of behavior that she was still struggling to learn.
But there were things to do. Wenda activated the mirror. “Jumper.”
The big spider was still examining bundles of numerals. But Wenda saw that the ogre, too stupid to know better, was still struggling with ham-minded determination. He had succeeded in biting through some of the silk bindings and had worked a hamhand free. Then he started swinging. What was he doing?
Now Wenda saw a dangling cord. It had a red ball on the end. The ogre swung toward it, away from it, and toward it again, gaining momentum. This was surely mischief.
“Jumper!” Wenda cried. “The ogre’s knot tied anymore!” But he couldn’t hear her.
The ogre caught the cord and yanked on it. Suddenly the entire platform collapsed, dumping Jumper into a nether chute. In barely three moments he landed at the gate in a tangle of debris.
“I’m so sorry,” Wenda said, helping him up. “I tried to warn yew.”
“I should not have been so distracted by the bundles,” Jumper said. “I thought I was so close to finding the right numeral.”
“You surely were,” Hilarion said. “But the fun house does not make it easy.”
Jumper looked around with two or three eyes. “The three of you washed out?”
“We did,” Wenda agreed.
“Literally,” Ida said. She remained thoroughly wet, her hair in a mess and mud on her gown.
“But Meryl and Angela are still in it?”
“They are,” Ida agreed.
“Then all is not yet lost.”
“Knot yet,” Wenda agreed. “Dew yew have another dress?” she asked Ida.
“As a matter of fact, I do. I will try to clean up and change now.”
“I will gaze elsewhere,” Hilarion said. And he did, providing Ida some privacy. So did Jumper.
Wenda lifted the mirror. “Angela.”
Angela had found a promising figurine. It was of an impossibly fat nature goddess. She touched it, and it became a volume titled Women of Substance.
“I think she’s got it,” Hilarion said.
Angela paged through the tome. There were pictures of assorted human women, some of them queens of ample girth. Then she came to a picture that made her pause.
“That’s Angela!” Ida said.
So it was. Somehow Angela herself had gotten into the book. Did this mean she had won her prize?
Angela touched the picture. Suddenly the whole book came up around her hand and arm, as if consuming her. Then it disappeared into her. And her body filled out.
“She got the substance of the book,” Jumper said. “She won!”
“She won,” Ida said. She was now in an alternate dress, with very little mud left on her. She had cleaned and changed efficiently, as well as was feasible in this awkward circumstance. “Now she is whole.”
“It seems we were wrong to doubt the constancy of Bems,” Hilarion said. “I am glad to see it.”
“As am I,” Ida agreed. “I did not like suspecting ill of any creature. It is unprincessly.”
“You were never that,” Hilarion said.
Now Angela was sliding down the exit chute. Unlike the others, she was happy. Soon she appeared at the gate.
“I got it!” she exclaimed. “Look! Feel! I am thoroughly solid.”
Jumper and Hilarion were appropriately diffident, though they might have liked to oblige her, but Wenda and Ida felt Angela’s arms and legs. They were fully fleshed, not spongy. Angela was indeed now a woman of substance.
One remained. “Meryl,” Wenda said, holding the mirror.
Meryl was still flying lithely through the watery caverns. Tendrils were reaching for her from crevices, but she was avoiding them. She seemed to know where she was going, and was determined to get there soon.
She came to a new cave, and there above her was the flatness of the surface of the lake. This cave was only half full of water. Within it was an island formed from a nether projection of rock, and on that isle was a figure.
In fact it was a winged merman. The one who had shown in the picture.
Meryl must have called, because the merman turned and saw her. Then he slid into the water and joined her. They held an animated dialogue.
“I was just flying along, minding my own business,” Hilarion said, mimicking the presumed merman’s voice. “When suddenly I was caught here in this cave with no idea of the way out.”
“Fortunately I know the way out,” Ida said, mimicking Meryl’s voice. “I have an excellent memory for travel details. I will show you.”
“I would be so grateful,” the merman said.
“I am just glad to be of help,” the mermaid said.
Then the two embraced, there in the water, and kissed.
Wenda and Jumper looked at Hilarion and Ida. “Will yew dew that too?” Wenda asked.
But the two, abruptly embarrassed, did not.
Meryl was as good as her presumed word. She led the way back through the underwater caves, and the merman followed. He could have escaped alone, had he had any idea of the route, but it was such a labyrinth that he must have feared getting lost, and caught by hungry sea monsters.
“They will surely be here soon,” Jumper said. “So our party has won two of six prizes. That seems worthwhile.”
“Oh, yes,” Angela said, admiring her own full flesh.
“Which means it is time to consider where we should go from here,” Wenda said. “We can knot expect any further help from the Bems; they have fulfilled their end of the deal.”
“And it seems they know it,” Hilarion said, glancing toward the boat. The others looked.
The boat was gone. The Knot sat alone on the wagon.
“I suspect we will not be able to use the Bem highway without the boat,” Jumper said. He went to the highway access and poked it. His leg passed through it. It had become illusion, as far as they were concerned.
They explored the edges of the park. They faded into nothingness. There was no other exit path.
“I fear we shall have to take an uncomfortable route,” Hilarion said.
“The humidor,” Ida agreed, similarly distressed.
“At least we can camp here overnight and consider,” Angela said.
Two figures arrived at the gate. “I found him!” Meryl exclaimed jubilantly. “Merwyn Merman! Isn’t he wonderful!”
There was a flurry of individual introductions. Merwyn seemed happy to have been rescued by such a charming creature of his species. His expression indicated that Meryl was everything he had ever dreamed of, but feared didn’t exist.
“Will you two fly happily into the sunset?” Jumper asked.
“No way!” Meryl said. “I want to stay with the party until the Knot is delivered, and have conjugal visits. I have been jealous of those all along.”
The others laughed. Now all but Hilarion and Ida could have hot visits. Wenda was sorry for the two left out, yet happy for Angela’s substance and Meryl’s companion.
They broke out their stored supplies and ate, for the day was now late. And just at dusk their companions appeared.
“Too bad the rest of you did not win your prizes,” Eris remarked. “And I’m not just saying that because of yours, you hopeless romantic,” she said, kissing Jumper on the carapace. “But you folk have one remaining significant adventure to get through before you can retire.”
Then Wenda was in a separate little tent with Charming. He still did not seem to notice her reverted condition, masked as it was by her clothing, and she was not about to call it to his atte
ntion. She liked his enthusiasm. In seven minutes he was asleep, and then gone.
Wenda was interested to see that Merwyn Merman was asleep. Evidently that relationship had progressed rapidly.
In the morning they consulted. “You won’t want to be along on this,” Meryl told Merwyn. “Those puns are atrocious.”
“But how will I ever find you again, if you reappear randomly in Xanth?” he asked.
He had a point. “Then come along,” Wenda said. “Just bee prepared.”
Ida brought out the humidor.
13
MAY I
They landed in a deep blue valley near yellow jungle-overgrown ruins. Planet Comic had seemed uninhabited, and maybe it was, but there had been some sort of civilization here once.
Hilarion cupped his ear with his hand. “Is that baying I hear?”
Meryl and Merwyn sailed up into the sky. “We’ll see,” Meryl called back. She remained flush with happiness about finding her man. Wenda was glad for her, and for Angela, and that helped ease her discomfort about her own hollowed condition. She reminded herself that she was better off this way than dead. But for Eris …
“Baying,” Ida said uneasily. “Does that mean wolves?”
“Or dogs,” Hilarion said. “The dogs of war.”
“I don’t know whether to hope that’s a pun,” Angela said.
“This is a world of puns,” Jumper reminded her. “But they are mostly confined to the pun Strips.”
“But some dew escape,” Wenda said, remembering their awkward meal with pun food.
The winged merfolk glided down. “Definitely dogs,” Meryl called. “They look absolutely vicious. We had better take precautions.”
Wenda swung into action. “Yew two—survey these ruins, quick. Find a section that can bee sealed off rapidly. Jumper—we will need yewr power to roll some stones into place. Ida—yew surely remember some good castle designs. Figure out one for what we have here, defensible against animals. Angela—forage for some food, as we may bee cooped up for a while. Hilarion—keep listening. Tell us when they are getting close.”
They got busy. The merfolk soon located an ancient temple whose roof had collapsed, but whose high green stone walls were still standing and solid. Ida considered it. “This will make a defensible dungeon,” she said. “Except for this one broken-down section of wall.”
“The Knot can block that,” Wenda said, hauling on the wagon.
Jumper heaved some of the fallen roof sections to the main entry, where they made a barrier.
“We should also make a battlement,” Ida said.
“A what?” Jumper asked.
“A sort of serrated wall,” Hilarion said. “Alternating high and low sections, merlons and crenels, so we can peer out between them without exposing ourselves unnecessarily. We can’t be sure how high those dogs can leap.”
“Exactly,” Ida agreed. “You know about castles.”
Hilarion shrugged. “Necessary princely background information.”
Jumper got on it, heaving tiles to the top of the walls, some high, some low. Wenda parked the Knot in the gap, heedless of its radiating resentment at being made useful, then helped heave green tiles as well as she was able.
“And weapons,” Hilarion said. “Sticks for spears, rocks for missiles. This may become ugly.” Merwyn and Meryl foraged quickly for suitable sticks and stones. There were many lying around, so the collection quickly grew.
Angela flew in with an armful of pies. “I found a pie tree just outside the Strip,” she said, dumping them down. “But those hounds are coming awfully close.”
“Man the defenses,” Hilarion said. He clambered up to the top of the wall, stood there, and drew his sword. “Oh, yes,” he muttered, gazing down.
Wenda climbed up to the top of the wall and looked out through a low spot. There were the dogs, surging through the jungle, their eyes glowing red.
“I am relieved that we don’t have to encounter those directly,” Ida said.
“It wood knot bee fun,” Wenda agreed, shuddering. One or two bites would not hurt her, but the pack of animals could tear her wood apart.
The dogs heard them. They leaped up against the wall, snarling, slaver flying. They did seem to be mindless beasts.
Ida screamed. A ravening dog had managed to scramble over the tile-blocked entrance and was menacing her from the inside of the wall.
Hilarion leaped down from the wall, sword extended. “Ho, beast!” he cried. “Depart the way you came, or perish.”
The dog whirled, understanding the challenge. There was nothing it liked better than a good fight. It leaped directly at Hilarion. Ida screamed again.
The prince’s sword moved so swiftly it was almost invisible. The dog yelped and fell to the ground, mortally wounded. It had been sliced through the neck, and its lifeblood was pouring out.
“I gave fair warning,” Hilarion said sternly.
The dog nodded, then died. Hilarion wiped and sheathed his sword, then picked the dead animal up and hurled it back over the tiles. “Any more for this route?” he called. No more came. The dogs were vicious, not stupid.
Ida looked faint. “You saved me,” she told Hilarion.
Now he was embarrassed. “I do what is needful. I regret you had to see the bloodshed.”
“So do I,” she said. “But it was instead of my blood being shed. That makes a difference.”
Wenda went to try to comfort Ida. It occurred to her privately that this ugly incident had been the proof that Prince Hilarion was no paper prince; he had been quite ready and able to use his sword when it was, as he put it, needful.
“I think there will be no reasoning with these animals,” Jumper said. “They seem to understand only lethal force. But we will need to divert them, if we are ever to make our way to the Strip.”
“How can we dew that?” Wenda asked.
“I wonder,” Angela said. “It may be a foolish notion—I’m not sure I have myself properly together yet, mentally—but if those dogs are a pun, maybe they escaped from the Strip.”
“They surely did,” Ida said, wincing as another leaping canine smacked into the wall just below her spot. Wenda remembered that Angela’s memory of Ida’s talent had been deleted, so she could make useful suggestions without realizing it.
“So there must be a hole in the Strip,” Angela continued. “Since the anti-puns are generally near the puns, there might be something there, similarly escaped, that could nullify the dogs.”
“I’m sure that is the case,” Ida agreed.
Wenda pounced on the moment. “Why dew yew knot fly out and see if yew can find it?”
“I will try,” Angela said.
“But do not go near the ground,” Hilarion said. “You are no longer unbiteable.”
Angela glanced at the dogs, and winced. “I won’t.” She flew up, up, and away.
Wenda made her way around the perimeter, making sure their defenses were tight. They seemed to be; the only open space was around the Knot, and the dogs were shying well clear of that.
She paused at the Knot. “Yew know, yew’re a lot of mischief,” she remarked.
It responded with a blast of sheer malice.
She was intrigued. “What wood yew dew, if a loving couple perched on yew and kissed?”
The Knot almost seemed to swell with rage. The remaining chips of reverse wood around it steamed and curled.
“I suppose I should knot tease yew,” she said. “It is knot gneiss. Yew may bee knot gneiss, but I am supposed to bee gneiss. I wood like to deliver yew to some situation yew really liked, provided it did knot harm Xanth.”
The Knot continued to radiate ire. It was having none of this sniveling dialogue.
Wenda moved on. She had difficulty understanding anything so perversely inimical. The Knot seemed to hate everything.
The defenses seemed tight. She completed the circuit just as Angela returned.
“I found it!” Angela exclaimed. “Doves of Peace!”
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“I dew knot understand,” Wenda said.
“Look.”
Wenda climbed the battlement and peered out. A flock of birds was following Angela. In a moment and a half they spied the raging Dogs of War and angled down to join them.
“The birds’ll be torn apart,” Meryl said, hovering anxiously above the battlement.
But it was not so. Each Dove oriented on a particular Dog, flew down, and kissed it on the muzzle. The dog then stopped snarling and became peaceful. Soon the entire pack was wandering off through the forest, sniffing roots, tugging vines, and doing other doggy things. While the Doves, their peaceful urges dissipated, explored the ground cover, picking up seeds. Dogs and Doves had become normal.
“I dew knot quite trust this,” Wenda said. “Suppose they are pretending, so we will come out unprotected?”
Hilarion nodded. “It was a brilliant ploy, Angela, but you will surely forgive us for our caution.”
“Certainly,” the angel agreed angelically.
“I propose we remain here for the day and night,” Jumper said. “If the dogs have not reverted to war, then perhaps we can assume we can safely make it to the Strip.”
“And if we have to,” Ida said, “we can cluster close around the Knot. We are accustomed to it; we can surely move closer to it than other creatures can.”
“That seems excellent,” Hilarion said. “We can use the rest.”
They ate the pies Angela had foraged, not going outside the fort, but they were not enough. Members of the party remained hungry.
“Maybe I can help again,” Angela said. “Now that I have the rest of my substance, my beads should work.”
“Beads?” Meryl asked.
“My sash,” the angel explained, touching it. “It is made of seed pearls. They can grow into things I need.” She removed a bead, held it up, and breathed on it.
The seed pearl expanded, becoming a loaf of freshly baked bread. She breathed on another, and it became a jug of wine. Soon they were sharing bread and wine, and lemon and lime stones to flavor their cups of water, and they filled out the meal very well.
Angela also found some soapstone, and they passed the bar around so that each could wash with a basin of water.
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