Man From Mundania

by Piers Anthony

“Nothing that hasn't been wrong from the outset,” she said enigmatically. “Don't concern yourself about it.”

  Then she smiled and kissed him, and his attempted concern was dissipated before he could express it.

  It did not take long to get to their Gap exit, for Grey rode Donkey and Ivy rode the dragon. “See—here it is!”

  Ivy said, pointing upward. “The bridge!”

  Grey looked. There was nothing there. But of course it was supposed to be invisible, so that made sense—he hoped.

  They dismounted. Ivy hugged the dragon farewell. It was evident that there was a deep and abiding friendship between this damsel and this dragon. Grey almost felt jealous of it. He had come so recently on the scene, while they had been friends, Ivy said, since she was three: fourteen years!

  Then they climbed the path up the side. It was a better path than the other, and it was possible for them to walk side by side in sections of it. Still, it was a long, wearing climb. This must be a lot like the Grand Canyon!

  “Tired?” Ivy asked, and he had to admit he was.

  “Not anymore,” she said, squeezing his arm. And, indeed, he felt new strength. Her Enhancement really did work! It was easy to appreciate it, now that he believed.

  They reached the top, and Ivy led the way to the bridge.

  Suddenly she stepped into the air above the chasm. Grey cried out in alarm, then saw she was standing, not falling.

  There really was a bridge there.

  Grey and Donkey followed her. The bridge had handrails and was quite secure. When he shut his eyes. Grey was quite satisfied with its solidity. Only when he opened his eyes and looked down, down, way far down, did he get dizzy. So he focused on Ivy, no uncomfortable task, and walked on across without looking down again.

  At the far side Ivy turned back to wave to Stanley, far below. The dragon responded with a great puff of steam.

  Then it was time to follow the magic path to Castle Roogna.

  Chapter 9

  Ultimatum

  They walked along the familiar enchanted path.

  Within a day they would reach Castle Roogna, especially if she Enhanced Donkey again so he could carry them swiftly. But Ivy intended to spend one more night on the road, because she was afraid of what would happen when they arrived.

  She saw that Grey and Donkey were tiring, and that was natural. She had Enhanced them before so that Donkey could carry them rapidly and Grey could fight off the goblins, but that had to be followed by a period of rest, and they hadn't had enough.

  “There's a nice coven-tree near here,” she said brightly. “Let's camp for the night.”

  The two were happy to agree. Perhaps they had their own doubts about the encounter at Castle Roogna.

  The coven-tree was off the enchanted path, but was itself enchanted to be safe for travelers, and it served as a way station. Indeed, it served as a place of exile for those out of favor with Queen Irene; they had to remain there until she suffered a change of heart, which might not occur swiftly. Ivy had spent more than one night here when she pushed her luck too far, and Dolph had often been sent here for trying to peek into Nada's room at night. He would change into something small, like a spider, and try to crawl through a crack, hoping to catch her in Panties. The was that he had seen her without her clothing often enough before she ever came to Castle Roogna, but now she was a Guest of the Estate, and he was Underage, so the sight of her panties was forbidden. Ivy thought the whole business was funny, but her mother took it more seriously.

  The tree was enormous, with a huge spreading top that was watertight, and large curling branches that made excellent supports for pillows. The temperature within its environment was fairly constant; it cooled some at night and warmed some by day, but not as much as the outside forest did. There were numerous fruit and nut trees nearby, and edible plants such as sugar beets and honey suckles.

  It was an excellent place to camp, when a person wasn't sent here as punishment.

  They foraged for supper, then harvested some pillows and went to niches in the separate branches. No branch was large enough for two people to use together, unfortunately, but they were very comfortable for single occupancies. By unvoiced common consent they did not talk about the morrow; it would come too soon.

  So it was, on that soon morrow, they arrived in nervously good order at Castle Roogna. Grey and Donkey were rested and clean, and Ivy had brushed out her hair with a bottlebrush from a bush as well as she could. Now what was to happen would happen.

  They were expected, of course. Ivy knew that her little brother would have been tracking her via the Tapestry, once she entered Xanth proper. It might have taken him a while to locate her, because she had been out of Xanth for so long, and he would not have known exactly where to look, but probably within a day or so he had found her.

  Had they not succeeded in getting clear of the goblins on their own, help would have come.

  Why hadn't her parents sent out a party to fetch her in sooner? Ivy knew why: because they had seen her with Grey and wanted to study the situation. She had been aware that someone was probably watching when she teased Grey and kissed him so ardently; she wanted them to have no doubt about the nature of her relationship with Grey.

  This was in fact her first truly major act of defiance of her parents: taking up with a Mundane. It was bound to send shock waves of scandal reverberating throughout Castle Roogna and the length and breadth of Xanth. Of all the mischief she might have gotten into, this was just about the most treacherous. The Princess and the Mundane! This was going to be no fun session coming up!

  Dolph came out to meet them at the bridge over the moat. He was excruciatingly neatly dressed, and his hair was freshly combed: a thing seldom seen. “I am glad to discover you safe. Ivy,” he said formally.

  “Thank you, Dolph,” she said as formally. She turned to her companions. “This is Donkey Centaur, who helped me escape a problem with goblins. And this is Grey, my Betrothed.”

  “I am so happy to meet you both,” Dolph said, extending his hand to each in turn. Then he leaned close to Ivy. “Whew! You really did it this time, dummy!” he said confidentially. “Mom's fuming! If you thought I was in hot water when I came home with Nada and Electra, wait till you feel yours!”

  “Tough tickle, squirt,” she replied in the same low tone. “You better back me up, if you know what's good for you!”

  He pretended to consider. “Weeeell …”

  “I'll tell Mom about that time you—”

  “I know what's good for me!” he agreed hastily.

  Then they both laughed. Ivy knew that her little brother was thrilled to see her with boy-trouble, after his three years of girl-trouble. There was never any doubt about his support.

  Then Nada and Electra came out, as befitted juvenile protocol. Both were nicely dressed and mannered, for this occasion. This was normal for Nada, but not for Electra.

  “This is Nada, Princess of the Naga,” Ivy said, and saw both Grey and Donkey take stock as Nada smiled, for she had become beautiful recently. “And Electra.” Electra was merely cute, to her perpetual annoyance. “My brother's Betrothees.”

  “Which one?” Donkey asked, evidently having missed this nuance of the situation before.

  “Both,” Ivy explained. “He hasn't chosen between them yet.” That was an oversimplification, but it would do for now.

  They walked on into the castle. “They're in the throne room,” Dolph said unnecessarily. “You better have your lines rehearsed before they throw you in the dungeon!”

  Ivy did not dignify that remark with a response. She rehearsed her lines, mentally.

  They trekked to the throne room. King Dor and Queen Irene were there, gravely awaiting them. Their faces were contrivedly neutral.

  Ivy gulped. “Let me do the talking,” she whispered to Grey.

  “Fat chance!” the tile she stood on retorted.

  Grey looked startled.

  “My father's talent,” Ivy explained quick
ly. “Talking to the inanimate—and having it talk back. And does it ever talk back! Some of his magic collects where he goes often, like this doorway.”

  “Any idiot knows that!” the tile sneered.

  “Shut up, you deadwood, or I'll stomp you!” Ivy whispered fiercely.

  “Yeah? I'd like to see you try, pudding-brain!”

  Ivy lifted a foot threateningly.

  “With a lady slipper?” the tile demanded. “Get on with you, or I'll blab what color your panties are!”

  “Don't you dare!” Ivy snapped furiously.

  “I'll stomp it,” Grey offered. “I'm wearing thick hardsoled Mundane shoes.”

  The tile was abruptly silent.

  “I think you have a way with these things,” Ivy said, smiling. Then she squared her shoulders, set her little chin, and marched on into the throne room. Grey followed, and Donkey.

  Silently they took their places before the two thrones.

  Ivy's parents surveyed them for what seemed like half an eternity. Her father was not a large man—in fact he was about Grey's size—but was horrendously regal in his crown and royal robe. Her mother was stunning with her green hair and green gown. Ivy had always been secretly jealous of Irene's generous proportions; Ivy herself was relatively modestly endowed. But her mother's eyes were narrowed: a sure sign of mischief.

  At last King Dor spoke. “Welcome home, daughter. Please introduce your companions.”

  Ivy turned and indicated the centaur. “This is Donkey Centaur, whom we rescued from the Goblinate of the Golden Horde, and who in turn protected us from recapture by carrying us clear of that region. I hope he will be welcome at Castle Roogna.”

  King Dor focused on Donkey. “Are you of good character, Donkey?”

  “Of course. Your Majesty.”

  “Then you are welcome here. You may use the orchard freely, and one of the castle staff will show you the premises. I shall assign—”

  Queen Irene nudged him. He glanced where she indicated. “Perhaps Electra will volunteer for that task.” For Electra was bouncing on her toes, back near the door, her hand raised eagerly. Of course she wanted to exchange rides for information. The girl was fifteen, but looked as young as Dolph and retained her childish ways. She could be a lot of fun; Donkey would like her.

  Ivy swallowed. “And this is Grey of Mundania, my betrothed.” There was a distinctly awkward silence. Then Dor's throne spoke.

  “Oooo, what a scandal! No princess ever—”

  Irene kicked it with the side of her foot, and it shut up.

  But there was a low snickering from other artifacts in the room. The inanimate was enjoying this situation.

  “We shall discuss that matter at another time,” Irene said. “Grey, it may be that my daughter has not made her situation clear to you. Do you understand the problem we have with Mundanes?”

  “Of course he does!” Ivy said quickly. “I told—”

  Irene flashed a look at her which had the same effect as the kick at the throne, for much the same reason. Ivy had to stand aside.

  “Your Majesty, Ivy told me that she was a Princess of Xanth, a land where magic works,” Grey said carefully.

  “Did you believe her?” Irene put in.

  Grey spread his hands, in the Mundane way he had. “I believed she believed.”

  “And you did not?”

  “Magic doesn't work in Mundania, Your Majesty.”

  “You are evading the issue, young man,” Irene snapped.

  Grey jumped guiltily. “I, uh, did not believe her.”

  Dor tapped his fingers on the armrest of his throne. “Do you believe her now?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “So now you want to marry her?” Irene demanded.

  “Uh, yes.”

  Ivy gritted her teeth. How awful that made him look!

  “Why?”

  Grey was surprised. “Because I love her,” he said. “In spite of her being a princess.”

  Irene seemed ready to burst. Ivy quailed. “In spite of?”

  Irene inquired.

  “Well, she told me how complicated it would be, and really I'd rather, uh, have her all to myself, but she is what she is and I guess I'll have to live with it.”

  Both King and Queen stared at him. Ivy closed her eyes.

  This was going even worse than she had feared.

  “So you consider it a liability to be a princess—or a queen,” Irene said with deceptive calmness. The decorative exotic plants set around the throne room writhed, sensitive to the building storm.

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I'm sorry if I have offended you, but that's the way I see it. I mean, it's such a big responsibility, in such a weird land.”

  Irene shot a look at Ivy. “Did he ask you to marry him before or after he believed you were a princess?”

  Ivy laughed, embarrassed. “Neither, Mother. I asked him. Before he believed.”

  Irene exchanged a glance with her husband. She shook her head as if bewildered. Then she focused again on Grey.

  “There is a great deal more to be decided on this matter, and we have not yet come to a decision. But I think it is safe to say that we like you. Grey of Mundania.”

  Ivy's mouth dropped open. “Uh, thanks,” Grey said.

  King Dor stood. “This audience is at an end.”

  Grey was given a bed in Dolph's room, though there were chambers free. Ivy didn't protest; she had been afraid Grey would not be allowed to stay in Castle Roogna.

  Probably this was her parent's way of chaperoning one boy or the other, or both. At any rate, she did not get to see Grey for a while, but knew he was in good hands.

  She went to her room, eager to get properly cleaned up and changed. She knew that her Mundane clothing was a poor outfit for a princess, even when clean, and this was not.

  She had hardly entered, when there was a knock. “It's your father,” the door said.

  “Let him in,” she said, smiling. It was nice to be back where the parts of the building talked.

  The door opened and King Dor entered. Ivy ran to him and flung herself into his arms. In the formal encounter in the throne room she had had to be proper and princessly, and this was back to normal. “Oh, Daddy, I missed you!”

  “I think not as much as we missed you,” he replied, hugging her tightly. “When we were unable to trace you, we realized that you were either in the gourd or in Mundania. When you didn't call in, we knew it wasn't the gourd. That meant trouble, but there was no way to locate you, let alone reach you. Your mother was having conniptions.”

  Ivy had to smile at that. Conniptions were nasty little things that floated in to pester anyone who was severely upset. They were harmless but messy, and Queen Irene would have been acutely embarrassed to have them there.

  “I was in Mundania, all right,” she agreed. “I think Murphy's Curse interfered with the Heaven Cent again, and garbled where it sent me. So I went where a Mundane named Murphy needed a girl, instead of where Good Magician Humfrey was.”

  “Murphy? You said his name is Grey.”

  “Grey Murphy. Mundanes use two names. He helped me return to Xanth, and then I brought him in. I knew I shouldn't, but I liked him.”

  “He's a nice boy. But you know you can't marry him.”

  “Where is it written that a Xanthian can't marry a Mundane?” she flared.

  “Oh, a Xanth-Mundania union is possible. But the rules for princesses are more stringent. There would be turmoil in the kingdom if you became king and were married to a Mundane.”

  Ivy sighed. “I know. But maybe Dolph can be king instead. Or maybe some other Magician will turn up.”

  “If that happens, you will still be needed as a reserve. We have too few Magicians and Sorceresses; we must conserve every one. So you must maintain your eligibility. This is part of your responsibility as Princess and a Sorceress. You know that.”

  Ivy sighed. She did know it. She had been carried away by her emotion of the moment, and pretended that t
he somber realities of her position did not exist, but they did.

  “But I can't tell Grey no, after I asked him!”

  “You may not need to, once he understands the complete picture.”

  “Because he will break it off himself,” she said.

  “Yes. He seems to be a man of integrity and conscience.”

  “Yes he is!” she flared. “That's why I love him!”

  “I understand how you feel. But you know it isn't enough.”

  Ivy nodded soberly. She knew.

  King Dor left. But Ivy hardly had time to get cleaned and changed before her mother showed up. Again there was the embrace. Then they sat down on the bed for serious woman talk.

  “How did it happen?” Irene asked.

  “You know how. Mother! First I saw he was decent; then I saw that he liked me only for myself. You know how rare that is, here in Xanth!”

  “I know, dear. I marked your father for marriage when I was a child, because of his position. If he hadn't been slated to be king some day, neither I nor your Grandma Iris would have given him a second thought. Then it was a challenge to land him, of course, but that was excellent sport.”

  “I guess it worked out,” Ivy said. “But I sort of wanted to marry for love.”

  “Oh, there was love. I have always loved your father, and he loved me, though we sometimes had strange ways of showing it. But it was his position that enabled it.”

  “But for me there was no Magician, and anyone else, well, I just wanted romance, and that's what I found.”

  “I do understand, dear. But you know it cannot be.”

  “There has to be a way!” Ivy said, not really believing it. “Somehow, some way!”

  Her mother merely smiled sadly, and left.

  Ivy tried to rest, but could not, so she went to Nada's room. Nada greeted her with a fierce girlish hug. Then they talked.

  “It is an irony,” Nada remarked. “I don't love your brother, but will marry him. You do love Grey, but can't marry him. If only we could exchange emotions!'‘ “That wouldn't work,” Ivy pointed out. “Grey and Electra would be left over.”

  “And Grey's not a prince,” Nada agreed. For Electra had to marry a prince or die.