Board Stiff (Xanth)

by Anthony, Piers

  “One way?” Tiara asked.

  “It is invisible but solid for a single passage only,” Pewter explained. “It dematerializes behind the last member of a party. So once we start across, we must continue; there will be no turning back.”

  “This makes me nervous,” Mitch said.

  “Me too,” Tiara said. “Do we really have to tackle it now? All I want is a chance to rest and dry out thoroughly, and hold someone close for a few hours.”

  “Oh, yes,” Mitch breathed.

  Ease and Astrid exchanged a glance, both clearly wishing they could do the same, but knowing they couldn’t. Kandy understood completely. She would have let them do it, had it been possible, knowing that Astrid did not have any long-term designs on Ease. They simply needed a pleasant break.

  “Our schedule is our own,” Pewter said. “We can explore the jungle opposite the chasm, and perhaps find a suitable place to stay the night.”

  But the jungle was densely forbidding. “I’ll go first,” Astrid said. She led the way between the trees, peering around and sniffing the air. There turned out to be a winding avenue, not quite aspiring to the status of a path. They followed her, single file.

  The avenue widened, becoming a full aisle. But Astrid halted. “Not this one.”

  “But it’s pleasant,” Ease protested. “We can follow it readily.”

  “It leads to a tangle tree. I can smell it.”

  Both Ease and Mitch froze in place, recognizing the danger. But Tiara, who has spent much of her life in an isolated tower, didn’t. “What is a tangle tree? Something that messes up hair?”

  Astrid smiled somewhat grimly. “Perhaps I should show you.”

  “Caution,” Pewter said.

  “I can handle a tangler,” she reminded him. “But do stay clear.” She touched her dark glasses.

  Astrid and Tiara followed the nice path, and the others followed at a moderately reasonable distance. It led to handsome tree with hanging green tentacles instead of branches with leaves. The tentacles fell to either side, allowing admittance to a cozy glenlet beside the gnarled trunk of the tree. There were fresh red applets, twin yellow pairs, and other luscious looking fruits on the ground, there for the eating.

  “Oh, that’s lovely!” Tiara said. “A perfect place to relax! I’m so tired and hungry!”

  As were they all, Kandy thought, except for herself. The last meal they had had had been pea mash, and they had not gorged on that.

  “Appearances can be deceptive,” Astrid said. “Stand back, and I will walk under the tangle tree.” She removed her glasses and tucked them into a pocket, careful not to look at Tiara.

  Tiara stood back, watching curiously, while Astrid walked to the trunk. She picked up one of the pairs.

  And the tentacles came to life. They wrapped around Astrid, hauling her into the air. The trunk cracked open a huge wooden mouth with splinter teeth.

  Tiara screamed and fell back. Mitch caught her, reassuringly. “Just watch,” he said. “She knows what’s she’s doing.”

  Astrid glared around. Wherever her gaze touched, the green tentacles withered and blistered. The ones holding her were reddening where they touched her flesh. When she looked at the trunk, the wood scorched.

  The tangle tree was not stupid. It immediately dropped her and whipped its tentacles clear. It knew a basilisk when it encountered one. It wanted no part of her, literally.

  Kandy had tended to forget exactly how deadly Astrid was, because of their friendship and the basilisk’s normal niceness. How would she ever find a man to love her?

  Astrid stood for a moment beside the trunk. “Nothing personal, Tangler,” she said. “It is just a demonstration for my friend. No hard feelings?”

  The tentacles shivered. Then one dropped to the ground, picked up the remaining pair, and proffered it to her.

  Astrid smiled as she replaced her glasses. “Why thank you,” she said, accepting it. “I will be on my way now. With luck we shall not meet again.” She walked away. Not a tentacle moved to stop her.

  She rejoined the others and presented the second pair to Tiara. It was of course a pear-shaped fruit, ripe and tasty. “Courtesy of the tangle tree, who is happy to see us on our way.”

  “Now I understand,” Tiara said. She waved nervously to the tree. “Thank you, Tangle Tree,” she called.

  Several tentacles twitched in response.

  “Tangle trees are best avoided,” Mitch said.

  “Yes,” Tiara agreed, shuddering. “I won’t forget.”

  They backtracked, the girls eating the juicy pairs. Astrid found another almost-path, which led to a small abandoned cemetery. Several plants grew on the graves, their vines curling around the weathered headstones. It was rather peaceful and pretty, in its unkempt way. Kandy wondered who had died there, and been forgotten.

  “We’ll bypass this too,” Astrid said. The others were glad to agree.

  The jungle thinned into a mixed forest, where trees, brush, turf and rocks had been mixed together like a tossed salad. Then they came to a goblin mound. The goblins were busy going about their business. They were about half normal human height, but made up for it in numbers.

  They halted. “Now that is odd,” Pewter said. “The goblins should have been harassing us long since. How could we just walk up to their mound unchallenged?”

  “I will inquire,” Astrid said. Again the others waited while she went ahead. Yet again Kandy appreciated the woman’s readiness to risk herself for the benefit of the Quest, though of course for her the risk was small.

  Astrid approached a goblin woman who was scrubbing laundry in a tub. Like most female goblins she was lovely, while the males were ugly, with big heads, big feet, and nasty expressions. Their personalities, Kandy knew, matched their appearance: men were brutes, woman were nice. How goblins ever cooperated long enough to make families was a mystery.

  “Excuse me,” Astrid said. Kandy could hear her clearly enough. “I am a member of a party passing by in peace. We don’t understand why we are being ignored.”

  The gobliness looked up. “It is your good fortune to happen by on election day. My brutish husband is running for chief of the Good Riddance Goblins and can’t be bothered by routine activities such as capturing, cooking, and eating passing strangers.”

  “That is good to know,” Astrid said. “We shall try to be gone before the election ends. I am Astrid Basilisk, intending no harm to you. I wonder whether we might make a deal for some food and a place to rest?”

  “That is doubtful,” the woman said, glancing around at the working goblins. “I am Glinda Goblin. I was expecting you.” She smiled briefly. “I will have my daughter Glenna sneak you some food, but I think that is all we can safely do at present.”

  So it had not been sheer coincidence that put her out here at this time, Kandy realized. But why had she expected them, when they themselves had not known they were coming here?

  “We prefer to earn our keep,” Astrid said. “What can we do in return for the food?”

  Glinda looked up, not quite meeting Astrid’s gaze. “You’re a basilisk? There might be something. Glenna has a little herb garden she very much values, but she is missing one rare plant, and I won’t let her go into the jungle alone to look for it. It is dangerous out there.”

  Astrid nodded understandingly. “What is it?”

  “It is called Grave Expectations. One sniff of its bloom and you’re dead. I don’t know why she wants such a nasty plant, but she does.”

  “I am familiar with it,” Astrid said. “In fact I know where one is. But I must caution you that despite its deadliness, this is a delicate plant. If we transplant it to your child’s garden it will require a poisonous ambiance for several hours until it safely roots. I would have to stay with it for that period.”

  “Do that, and you will have my eternal gratitude,” Glinda said. “I so much want my little girl to be happy, and happiness is not common among goblins. I see that my talent guided me correctly
. Take her to the plant.”

  “You would trust me with your child? Remember, I’m a--”

  “I am a fair judge of character.”

  Astrid looked gratified. “Let me meet your child.”

  Glinda put two fingers to her mouth and made a piercing whistle. Soon a cute little girl goblet appeared. “Yes, mother dear?” she asked sweetly.

  “Hide some good food in your knapsack and go with these folk,” Glinda said. “This is Astrid. She knows where your flower grows.”

  “Oooo!” Glenna exclaimed, clapping her hands gleefully. She ran back into the mound.

  “Oh, I envy you.” Astrid said.

  “You want a human child?”

  “Yes, challenging as that may be. I am tired of skulking under rocks and dealing death in my natural form.”

  “I wish you well,” Glinda said. It was plain she did not believe Astrid would be able to get a human child.

  Glenna returned, wearing her backpack. “This way,” Astrid said. “I can’t take your hand, but stay reasonably close.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I am a basilisk. My touch would poison you.”

  “Oh. Cool.”

  Glinda smiled obscurely as she focused on her washing.

  Astrid led Glenna back to the others. “We must return to the graveyard.”

  They did not question this. They walked back the way they had come, Glenna skipping along beside them.

  “Mommy says this food’s for you,” the child said, taking off her knapsack. It turned out to be filled with cheese & jelly sandwiches, evidently Glenna’s favorite. They thanked her and ate them with gusto.

  They came to the grave yard. “Oooo!” Glenna cried, spying the twining plants. She recognized the one she wanted.

  Astrid located a pot pie plant and harvested a small metal pot. Then she used her hands to dig out a little Grave Expectations plant and put it in the pot. It seemed a bit unhappy, so she breathed on it and it perked up. Basilisks and grave plants had a long association, and neither hurt the other.

  They accompanied Glenna back to the goblin mound. A ferociously ugly goblin came out to meet them. “Election’s over,” he announced. “I won. We’ll bury the losers later. Now how would you intruders like to be cooked?”

  “Oh, Daddy,” Glenna said. “You can’t eat these folk. They’re my friends.”

  The male swelled up like an inflating balloon. “Yeah, well--”

  Glinda came over. “Stifle it, Glower,” she snapped. “I told them they could come. They’re helping Glenna with her garden.”

  Glower glowered. He was good at it. “Yeah? Well--”

  “And one of them’s a basilisk.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  Astrid held the pot in one hand and lifted her glasses with the other. She delivered a glancing glance.

  Glower turned green around the edges. “Uh, yeah,” he said, backing off.

  “This way,” Glinda said, leading them around the mound to a sheltered area beyond.

  There was the little garden. Kandy verified that it was indeed a rare one. She saw an all-purpose flower she knew was harvested to make fruit, grain, greens, and the roots made boot rear. There was an E S Pea that would produce mind-reading vegetables, and a G Pea S that would one day give directions. Also a Pup-Pea that would one day make a pet. An Al-Pine and a Su-Pine tree. Several Butter Fingers growing around the edge.

  “Is that an Egg Plant?” Pewter asked, surprised.

  “Yes!” Glenna said proudly. “There are very few of those.”

  “What’s unusual about an egg plant?” Ease asked. “They’re all around. We love the eggs.”

  “This is not an egg plant,” Pewter explained. “It’s an Egg Plant. It’s like the difference between a demon and a Demon. Its eggs will hatch into a number of different creatures, including even a harpy without a mother. There are only three or four of those plants in all Xanth.” He looked at the child. “How did you obtain such a rare specimen?”

  “It’s my talent,” Glenna said proudly. “I can find the rarest type of an ordinary thing.”

  “I believe it,” Pewter said. “You are a remarkable child who will no doubt grow up to be an extraordinary adult.”

  “That’s what mommy says. That’s why she encourages me. Her talent is knowing who can help with something, and when to expect that person.”

  That explained a lot, Kandy thought.

  And now the garden also had a Grave Expectations plant, that would surely protect it and the goblin mound when it matured. Astrid made a hole in the ground where the child indicated and carefully placed the plant there, breathing on it again. “Remember, I must be close to it for several hours,” she said. “Overnight would be better. Once it roots firmly it will make its own ambiance.”

  “Stay,” Glinda said. “All of you. The men will not bother you.” She shot a glance toward Glower that was reminiscent of Astrid’s bare-eyed look. No, the new chief would not be bothering them. He might be ugly, fierce, and tough, but he knew better than to really annoy either his wife or his child.

  Seeing the way of it, and buoyed by his political victory, Glower accepted the situation and became almost affable. He brought a keg of hard cider, really hard cider, and they broke off chunks of it to chew. Soon the men and Tiara were happily drunk.

  But Pewter and Astrid were not. There would be no funny business, or even moderately humorous business, during the night. Not that anyone was accusing anyone of any such intention. The experience at PLO Village had made them wary.

  “In the old days we dropped travelers into the Chasm just to hear them scream,” Glower said. “But then we realized that this was a waste of perfectly good food, so we had to stop. Some folk didn’t want to stop, and unrest was brewing, so the chief of that time, Goodrid Goblin, made a deal with three human Magicians to change things without violence.”

  “How’d they do that?” Ease asked, interested. “I mean, I thought goblins didn’t approve of nonviolence.” He bit off another chunk of cider.

  “He was a cunning one,” Glower said. “Sometimes cunning is almost as good as violence. First he had to buy the favor of the Magicians. Fortunately our womenfolk can be persuasive. That’s how Glinda and Glenna come by their magic talents: there’s a Magician in their ancestry.”

  “Of course,” Tiara said, aware how a lovely gobliness could be persuasive with the help of an accommodation spell.

  “The first Magician sent the steamer dragon to clean out the orcs,” Glower continued. “But that didn’t work too well, because then it was the dragon who ate the travelers, instead of the orcs. Meat was still being wasted. The second Magician changed the name of the chasm from Orc to Gap. That still didn’t do it; the gulf was just too tempting. So the third Magician invoked the Forget Spell. That did it. After that no one wanted to admit that they had ever had an Orc Chasm.”

  Mitch and Ease laughed. Tiara blushed. The goblin chief had had his little joke.

  Glinda hustled Glenna off to bed, and the others settled down near the garden. Astrid lay down next to the Grave plant and slept. This was as good a place to spend the night as any, as no one would be bothering them.

  In the morning Pewter tried to educate Glower about the coming menace of the pun virus. “Many of the plants of this garden, and the things you harvest and use, like shoe trees, are likely to be eradicated by the virus. You need to take what precautions you can to store food for the famine.”

  “Ah, we’re too busy for that,” Glower said.

  “Not necessarily,” Glinda said. “I have heard of this pun virus. Glenna has not worked so hard to plant her garden only to have it wiped out. How can we protect it?”

  “We are on a Quest to locate the antidote to the virus,” Pewter said. “But we do not know where it is. We have been wandering, searching for hints.”

  “An antidote,” she said thoughtfully. “Could the answer lie in the science of chemistry?”

  “You believe i
n science?” Pewter asked, startled.

  “It’s a form of magic, less reliable but useful in its place. But mainly, we know where there is a chemistree, that fruits potion bottles. The Random Factor messed with it a while back, so now they are random potions, but with correct identification they can be used. For example, if a love potion is mixed with a hate elixir, they will neutralize each other and the result is pure neutral water.”

  “There is a reference in my data bank. But its location is unknown.”

  “Unadvertised,” Glinda said, smiling. “I suspect it is one of the secret resources of the Good Magician. But for this purpose, it might be better to use it. Do you think a mixture of those potions would stop the virus?”

  “They might,” Pewter said. “It would not be the same as the anti-virus, but it might protect your garden. A mixture of healing elixir and firewater might mess up the virus.” He looked at the others.

  “That’s a valuable garden,” Mitch said. “Saving it might be our purpose in this Event.”

  “And it might mean we would not have to cross the Gap Chasm,” Tiara said.

  “The tree is too big to move here,” Glinda said. “But we can harvest the bottles, and we might find seeds.”

  “Let’s do it,” Ease said.

  “Glenna and I will show you the way,” Glinda said.

  “But dear--” Glower protested.

  “You have your chief-ship to consolidate,” Glinda said firmly. “This will get us out of your way for a day.”

  Glower considered, recognizing the convenience of that, and let it be.

  They set off, following the woman and the girl. The woman was the size of a human girl, and the girl was half that, but they were sturdy and knew where they were going. It seemed that the chemistree was not far distant.

  “And here it is,” Glinda said with a flourish.

  They gazed at the tree. It looked like an ordinary fur, with holiday decorations. The glossy pendants were little colored bottles of potions.

  “We need to ascertain whether the colors are consistent,” Pewter said. “That is, does red mean love and white mean lethe, or do they vary? I suspect we shall need to check every bottle as we harvest it.”