Then, abruptly, the basket swung into a small chamber. It bumped against the floor, almost overturning, and she had to scramble out. She had arrived.
As she caught her balance, she saw the basket swinging up and away. "Oh!" she cried, grabbing for it, but she was too late. She had lost her transport back.
But Grey and Ivy knew where she was. Surely they would send the handbasket back when they realized that it was empty. She had to believe that!
She looked around—and there sat old Good Magician Humfrey in a hard wooden chair! She recognized him instantly; there was no mistaking the gnomelike features and great age of the little man. He seemed to be snoozing.
That was all. The rest of the chamber was bare, except for another chair.
She sat in that chair. There did not seem to be much else to do. She smoothed out her dingy dress, noting that she wore the same clothing as usual despite being in spirit form now. That was just as well; she would not have liked to go naked to this infernal region, though probably it was not the best place to keep secrets. This surely was not Hell itself, because there was no fire. It must be Hell's waiting room.
But why was Humfrey still waiting here? In fact, what was he doing here anyway? Where was his family? It had been ten years since the man had disappeared from his castle along with his wife and son, leaving Xanth in the lurch. Chex Centaur had discovered his absence, with her companions Esk Ogre and Volney Vole; the challenges seemed to have been in the process of being set up for the three, when the occupants of the castle had suddenly departed. It was the great current mystery of Xanth: what had happened?
Well, perhaps that wasn't her business, though she was as curious as the next person. She had just one Question which was her business with the Magician. She would just have to stifle her interest in the rest of his life.
She did not want to wake him from his snooze. But she wasn't sure how long she could safely remain here. If this was Hell's waiting room, at any time a door could open and a demon could appear, saying "Next!" in that bone-chilling tone. Then either Humfrey would be taken, or she herself would. Either way, her chance for her Answer would be gone.
"Ahem," she said politely.
One of Humfrey's eyelids flickered. Then both did. His eyes popped open, fixing on her. "Lacuna! What are you doing here?"
"You recognize me?" she asked, startled.
"Of course I recognize you! You baby-sat me when I had been youthened by overdosing on the water from the Fountain of Youth. You were a rather sweet sixteen at the time, quite unlike your present blah state."
She had forgotten how sharp he was on information. Of course, he was the Magician of Information. Even in his youthened state he had been very quick to learn things. So after most of eighteen years without seeing her, he had identified her present nature with dismaying facility.
"I came to ask you a Question," she said.
"I'm not answering Questions now. Go to the castle. Murphy's boy is supposed to be minding it."
"He is. He sent me here. He said that only you could give me my Answer.''
"Why? Doesn't he have the Book of Answers there?"
"Yes, but he can't decipher the technical parts, and my Answer is there."
He nodded. "It does take most of a century to master the programming language. I happen to know. I did it faster because I had special training. But he'll get there in due course."
"I can't wait a century!" she protested. "I've already gone from sweet sixteen to blah thirty-four. I'll sink into dismal anonymity before another decade is out.”
He glanced at her appraisingly. "More like six years."
"Six years?"
"A person is only allowed three great mistakes. Your first was in not marrying that young man. Your second was in turning thirty. Your third will be in turning forty, and that will finish you as a potentially worthwhile female human being."
He certainly understood her situation! "Magician Grey Murphy told me of the first mistake. If I can change that, I'll be left with only two strikes against me, and my life may become worthwhile. The rules aren't the same for married women. That's why I came to you."
Humfrey considered. "I suppose I might as well do something while I'm waiting here. Suppose I give you the coding so that you can show Grey Murphy how to get your Answer from the Book?”
"That would be fine!" she said.
"And what service will you do me in return?"
"What do you need?"
“I need to have the Demon X(A/N)th take notice of me!" he said. "I've been cooling my heels in this waiting room for ten years, waiting for him to ask me what I want."
"You mean you're not going to Hell?"
"Not exactly. I'm here to take someone from Hell. Then I can return with her to Xanth."
"With her? Who is she?"
"My wife."
"The Gorgon is in Hell?"
"No. She's waiting for me to get my business done here. It's Rose I'm after."
"Rose is your wife? But what about the Gorgon?"
"What about her?"
"How can you have a wife in Hell when the Gorgon is your wife?''
"I married Rose before."
"But then—"
“It's a long story,” he said shortly.
Lacuna realized that Humfrey must have done more than twiddle his thumbs in the century or so he had lived before meeting the Gorgon. Rose must have been a wife who died. "But no matter how long it is, if you bring Rose back, you'll have two wives, and that's not allowed in Xanth."
"Who says it isn't?"
"Queen Irene. When Prince Dolph got betrothed to two girls, she said he could marry only one."
Humfrey sighed. "That does complicate things. But the Queen's word is law on matters of social protocol, however inconvenient it may be. Her son must have been most upset."
"He was," she agreed. "But he finally worked it out."
"He was young. I am too old to adjust to such nonsense. What am I going to do? I can't leave Rose in Hell."
26
Question Quest
"You are asking me? But you're the Magician of Information."
"True. I shall have to think about this. I shall review my life, and gain the perspective to make the right decision. Herein lies your service: use your print to record my biography.''
"But I have nothing to print on," she protested, surprised.
"Print on the wall."
"Yes, I could do that," she agreed. "But what is the point of printing it? Why can't you just review your life in your head?"
"Because my head isn't that big!" he snapped. "Also, I'm trying to attract the attention of the Demon X(A/N)th, and maybe the story of my life written on the wall will do it."
"Why do you want to see the Demon X(A/N)th? I thought you were here to rescue your former wife."
"I am. But only the Demon can authorize it."
Lacuna nodded. It was beginning to make partial sense. "And you have waited here all this time, heating your heels, being ignored by the Demon? Why don't you take a break where it's more interesting?"
"Because the Demon doesn't want to deal with me."
"But then the Demon may never take note of you!"
"No. It is in the Big Book of Universal Rules: the Demon has to meet with his appointments before doing anything else. So I shall wait here until he appears."
"But all this time—surely you can afford some time off. He's probably asleep and it won't make any difference."
Humfrey fixed her with a steely gaze. "You don't understand the psychology of the Demon X(A/N)th. He will appear here the very instant I step out. Because the rules also say that if the Demon appears, and there is no person in the waiting room, because the person didn't have the interest to remain, then the appointment is vacated. Then he won't have to see me at all."
Lacuna was appalled. "You mean the Demon knows you are here and is deliberately ignoring you, hoping to catch you out? And it has been this way for a decade?"
"Exactly. So I don't dare st
ep out. I was lucky the Demon didn't realize when Grey Murphy and Ivy tried to wake me in the dream coffin four years ago. But I know I won't be able to get away with that again. The Demon may have been inattentive once, but he never makes the same mistake twice."
Now she knew why the Good Magician had disappeared and never even left word. He had been unable to, without risking the loss of his mission. So he had remained here in this absolutely dull waiting room, doing nothing. Waiting for the Demon.
"Your recent life has been a worse blah than mine!" she exclaimed, suffering a revelation.
“What else is new?” he inquired sourly.
"But still—suppose the Demon came this moment and said it was all right to take Rose out of Hell and back to Xanth. What about the Gorgon?" For Lacuna had known and liked the Gorgon, whose terror was all in her face, not in her nature.
"It's bad enough trying to figure out what to do about Grey Murphy when I return," the Magician grumped. "It isn't right to send him back to Mundania to avoid Com-Pewter.”
"Oh, that's no problem," she said quickly. "I will free Grey by changing the print on the evil machine's screen."
He stared at her. "No wonder I overlooked that Answer! It's obvious! Simply a matter of overwriting Pewter's directive and using the key command 'Save and Compile.' I could have given him that Answer before."
She shrugged, not wanting to annoy him further.
"Well, if you are so good at seeing the obvious, what's your solution to my problem of two wives?"
She spread her hands. "Maybe they could take turns?"
"That's ridiculous!" he exploded. "It just might work, if the Queen doesn't interfere."
“Well, if one wife is technically dead, while the other is alive, maybe Queen Irene couldn't object."
He sighed. "It may not come to that. The Demon X(A/N)th isn't going to grant my appeal anyway.”
"But—but then why—"
"Because it would be unthinkable not to make the effort. I was less experienced before, and didn't consider such an approach, but now it must be tried."
Lacuna wondered what kind of a woman Rose was to warrant such devotion from such a normally truculent man. To sit in Hell's waiting room for a decade, expecting a negative response!
She knew better, but she couldn't help arguing a little more. "Why won't the Demon grant your appeal?"
"For the same reason he doesn't want to meet me: it's more complicated to deal with this matter than to ignore it. The Demon cares nothing for my convenience, only for his own."
“'Wouldn't it be easy for him just to hear your appeal and turn it down and be done with it?"
"He can't do that. The rules say that he has to be fair. If he is fair, he may have to grant my appeal. So he is avoiding me, hoping I will give up and go without his hearing me."
The two were really in a contest of wills, she saw. Humfrey wanted something that the Demon X(A/N)th didn't want to give, so they were locked in this endurance contest instead. It was sad. But it was also somewhat like Humfrey's own treatment of those who pestered him with Questions at his castle. He was being served as he served others. Probably he would not appreciate having that pointed out, so she stifled whatever remark she might have been tempted to make.
"How will he avoid granting your appeal, if he has to play fair?" she asked.
"He will cheat."
"But—"
"Fairness is as the Demon says it is. He will give me a chance to gain my objective, if I put my own soul on the line. If I win, I take Rose; if I lose I will be confined here with her. Then he will see that I lose."
"But how can he—"
"Very simply. He will ask me a Question that I as the Magician of Information should be able to answer. It will be about some future event. Then he will see that whatever my Answer, it will happen otherwise. Thus I will lose."
"Then you really have no hope," she said, disturbed.
"I have hope. I have no chance."
"You are throwing your life away for nothing! And even if you should win, you'll still have the problem of two wives. They won't take turns if they are both alive in Xanth."
"Tell me something that isn't obvious."
She shook her head. "This just doesn't make sense."
"So it would seem."
Then she knew that he had a plan. She couldn't imagine what it was, but she had confidence in his information. He would find a way through the rigged contest—if he could only get the Demon's attention. He couldn't tell her his plan, because the Demon might be listening and then would know how to foil it.
Still, she had one more question. "If the Demon X(A/N)th knows you are here, and is ignoring you, why should printing your life story make any difference? Won't he just ignore that too?"
"Only up to a point. My life story is true, though much of it is unknown to all others except the Demon. It must be true; I dare not falsify any part of it. Therefore, it will be difficult for me to relate, in places. Complete honesty is always painful and seldom advisable. But at the point it catches up to the present and starts into the future, its truth will be undefined. I will be able to tell it as I hope it will be."
“'But then you could say that you are going to rescue Rose from Hell by yourself and return to Xanth!"
"Precisely. I will be able to define my own future. Therefore the Demon must at that point come to meet me and deal with my appeal, lest he lose it by default."
That was a most sophisticated strategy! It was obvious that the Good Magician was much smarter than she was. Still she had a niggling confusion. "Why didn't you tell your story before, instead of waiting all this time?"
"The spoken word lacks the authority of the written word. Until you came, I was unable to transcribe my autobiography to print."
"But why didn't the Demon stop me from coming here, then?"
"I suspect you were too insignificant a detail for him to bother to keep track of. Had you been beautiful or smart or highly talented, as my wives are, he would have seen you coming. Now it is too late; you are here."
"How fortunate that I am so ordinary," she said, with a hint of a mixed feeling.
"You are not ordinary, Lacuna, you are dull. You are almost completely uninteresting. How you got to be a leading character in this story is almost beyond my significant resources to ascertain.”
Surely it was true. That was why she had come here.
"Well, we had better get on with it," she said with a certain boring resignation. She focused on the far wall, and the print began to appear:
THE STORY OF THE LIFE HISTORY OF THE GOOD MAGICIAN HUMFREY, THE MAGICIAN OF INFORMATION.
Chapter One
"Oh, don't be so cumbersome!" Humfrey snapped. "Just title it Question Quest. And start with Chapter 3; you’ve already wasted two chapters with your own dreary business, may the Muse of History forgive you."
"Yes, of course," she agreed, properly chastened. "What should the title of Chapter 3 be?"
"Oh, anything," he said impatiently. He began to dictate.
Chapter 3
Anything
I was born of wholesome parents in the year 933. This calendar dates from Xanth's First Wave of human colonization. Some few human folk had settled in Xanth before then, perhaps around the year -2200, but then Xanth became an island; there were not enough of them to maintain the population, and they faded out by —1900. It was probably good riddance. The main evidences of their presence are the crossbreeds they generated: harpies, cowboys, werewolves, mermaids, and similar ilk. Later the isthmus was restored and more humans crossed over, generating the centaurs. But only with the First Wave did human history become continuous, so that was the Year Zero.
Successive Waves of human colonization from Mundania brought shame to Xanth, until after the Fourth Wave, in 228, when Magician Roogna assumed power, built Castle Roogna, and ushered in Xanth's Golden Age. Castle Roogna was deserted when King Gromden died in 677 and King Yang took over. The human influence in the peninsula slowly declined
, ushering in what was called Xanth's Dark Age, had anyone noticed or cared before it was too late.
But this summation becomes tedious. The tabular history of Xanth will be provided in an appendix for those few who are morbidly curious about the dead past.
However, one good thing had happened recently: the year before my birth, Magician-King Ebnez adapted the Deathstone into the Shieldstone, protecting Xanth from further Waves. Magician Roogna had had the power to adapt living magic to his ends, while Magician Ebnez adapted inanimate magic; both were to have significant effect on human events. This was to usher in a period of historical calm. The Twelfth Wave became known as the LastWave, because there were no more Waves until 1042 when King Trent's Mundane army settled peacefully in Xanth.
Thus it was my fortune to live in the most peaceful part of Xanth's Dark Age. Actually, it was rather dull. There is a blessing: "May you live in boring times." I would rather have suffered the curse of interesting times.
I was the youngest of three children. My older brother inherited the farm, and my older sister was incurably bossy. It therefore behooved me to set out alone for far adventures. Unfortunately the only trade I knew was what I had learned at home: tic farming. We grew tics, which constantly twitched, and harvested and bundled them for the clocks of other folk. Once in the clock, the properly ripened tics measured the time. Without them, the clocks had nothing but tocks and were useless, but with them they proceeded in a steady line of tick-tocks and kept good time. There were few clocks in Xanth, because there were few people in Xanth, and my family's farm provided all the tics that were needed. It would have been pointless to start up another such farm. My training was useless in the outside realm.
I had one other liability: I had unmitigated curiosity. That was all. I had no magic talent that I knew of. In those days there was no requirement in that respect; it was the later Storm King who idiotically decreed that every citizen of Xanth had to have a magic talent, however minor. The only real rule at this time was that only a Magician could be king. That dates from the Fourth Wave and has generally worked well, because only a Magician has power to enforce his edicts. So I, as a talentless young man, without athletic ability, small of stature and unhandsome, became one of the nonentities of Xanth. Others neither knew nor cared what I was doing, as long as I did not bother them.
Question Quest Page 3
