"That's it exactly. A nice goblin girl for you, a brutish barbarian lout for me. Too bad Jordan's taken."
"Jordan?"
"A barbarian male. There's a whole book about him somewhere; he's become part of the legend."
"Maybe he has a brother."
"And maybe there's a goblin girl who likes politeness."
"There's always faint hope," he agreed.
"Fat chance, you dunces."
"And maybe a bird for you," Hannah said to the parody. "What gender are you?"
"None of your business, strumpet."
Their clothing was dry. They donned it and were ready to travel again. "Are you familiar with the Region of Madness?" Hannah inquired.
"I have heard of it, of course, but never ventured within it."
"The same for me. I understand that truly weird things exist in that area. Are you sure you want to venture there?"
"Is there any better chance to place the bird?"
"Asked and answered," she agreed ruefully. "Only a madman would be crazy enough to want to adopt this miscreant creature."
"You said it, hussy!"
They marched south, toward the dread Region of Madness.
There was a trembling in the earth. Hannah put her hand on her sword and stood ready, while Goody stayed back and watched. There was no telling what they might encounter as they approached Madness.
The ground gave one last quiver. Then a hole opened almost under her feet and a blue snout poked out. A greeting, fair maiden. Goody heard it in his head, and was sure Hannah did too.
"What outside of tarnation are you?" Hannah demanded.
The snout was followed by a green and brown wormlike body with squat red legs. Vortex Dragon, you delicious creature.
She was astonished. "You're a dragon? You don't look like any dragon I've ever seen."
Your legs are lovely, but let me get separate so I can concentrate.
Hannah hastily jumped back, realizing that the dragon was peering up under her skirt. "Is that you talking in my head?"
Vortex coiled, snakelike, holding his head high. He was about one and a half human people long, from snout to tail-tip. Let me attune. "There: is that better?"
Goody came forward. "Now you're talking!"
"I am projecting my thoughts into your mind, phrasing them to emulate a verbal voice."
"Mind reading!" Hannah exclaimed.
"I am telepathic, true. It is one of my aspects. My full description is medium-small suction tunneling friendly telepathic male dragon. And you are?"
"Goody: polite male goblin."
"Hannah: barbarian female human."
"Go soak your snout, worm-face."
The dragon oriented on the bird. "I believe you would make a good meal, parody."
"Don't try to threaten me, you pitiful imitation monster. You don't even have any teeth."
"Nor do I require them." The dragon lifted his snout. It widened, becoming a flaring tube. Dusty air sucked in, spiraling, forming a miniature tornado. The whirling air extended toward the bird. It tugged at Goody's clothing and hair. It was about to suck in the peeve!
Hannah drew her sword.
"Wait!" Goody cried. "This bird is not for eating."
The tornado faded. "Are you sure? It seems too obnoxious to allow to live."
"My job is to find it a good home. I can't afford to let it get eaten."
"In that case I will let it go, against my better judgment."
"I never heard of a telepathic sucking dragon," Hannah said. "Are you from the Region of Madness?"
"No, I am part of the recent dragon immigration facilitated by the Muse of History. It seems that an affliction decimated the original dragon population, so we were asked to colonize from Dragon World. Being of alien derivation, we have qualities that are not identical to those of the locals. We are still spreading out, settling into our ecological niches, as it were. I apologize for inconveniencing you."
There was something about this creature that appealed to Goody. "We are glad to make your acquaintance."
"I shall be on my way. If you should change your mind about the availability of the peevish bird for consumption, please give me a mental call." He pointed his snout at the ground, then seemed to dive into it as if it were water. In not much more than a moment and a half he was gone, leaving solid ground behind.
"Good riddance!" the peeve called, after the dragon was safely gone.
"I didn't realize there was a dragon immigration," Goody said.
"Neither did I. But come to think of it, a couple years back I encountered fewer dragons than usual. So maybe a plague did thin them out."
"He wasn't fooling about having different qualities. Sucking in prey, tunneling through the ground—"
"And telepathic. That's not unknown in dragons, but I got the impression it is routine for his world."
They walked on. Soon they came to an archway. Above it was a decoratively curving sign: LET NO MAN ENTER THESE OUR PREMISES.
"I would not want to intrude where I am not wanted," Goody said. "We must find another route."
"Aw, go ahead, spoilsport," the peeve said, ever alert for mischief.
"It's solid prickly tangle east and west," Hannah said. "I've been keeping an alert barbarian eye out. We'd have to make a long detour, and the day is getting on."
"But the sign says—"
"Technically, you're not a man. You are a male goblin. Maybe it's just human louts it doesn't want."
"I don't approve of invoking technicalities."
"Chicken! Buk buk buk BAWK!"
"Shut your beak," Hannah snapped. "We're trying to make a decision here."
"I'll help you, sour skirt." The peeve launched into the air and flew through the archway.
"Bleep!" Hannah swore, pursuing it.
Without thinking, Goody followed. As he passed under the arch, something peculiar happened to his clothing.
Hannah stood in the path, the peeve on her shoulder. "Oops," she said.
"What a sight!" the bird said, its beady eyes staring.
"I don't understand," Goody said, trying to adjust his shirt, which had become uncomfortably tight across the chest.
"Let's just get you on out of here," Hannah said, hustling him back through the archway.
"It didn't work!" the peeve cried, delighted.
"What didn't work?"
"It didn't change you back," Hannah said, looking half stunned.
"Back to what? I'm still Goody Goblin, aren't I?"
"Back to a man."
Goody looked down at himself. His shirt bulged out with two rounded projections on his chest. His legs had thickened, especially in the upper thighs. His hair felt longer. "To a what?"
"Take off your shirt."
He was glad to, to alleviate the construction. Then he saw the problem: his chest was now formed into two full female breasts.
"Get a load of those boobs!" the peeve cackled.
"Check your hardware."
He felt inside his trousers. There was nothing there.
He felt faint. "What—?"
"You are now a woman."
"I can't be!"
"It seems that's what the arch sign meant. Not that no man should enter, but than no man could. Because it changes genders."
"And doesn't change back!" the bird exalted.
"This can't be," he protested.
"It didn't affect me," she said. "Just you. It seems to be a one-way transformation. You will have to get used to being a girl."
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
Goody grabbed for the peeve, but it flew up out of reach.
"Come on, I'll help you adjust. There is suitable clothing beyond the arch, maybe by no coincidence." Hannah led him back through. This time his body did not change.
She outfitted him—he might have a female body now, but he still thought of himself as male—with a small bra, panties, blouse, skirt, slippers, and a ribbon to tie back his longer hair. "You helped me be female," she
murmured. "I'm returning the favor."
He winced. "Thank you." He put his backpack back on.
"Let's be sensible: if there's a no-man's-land, there must be a no-woman's-land too. We just have to find it."
Goody brightened. "That would help."
They followed the path toward wherever it was going. It seemed routine. They saw fat butterflies and thin margarine flies, winged oblongs of yellow substance. On the ground were dull ignor-ants and excited ant-icipations. There was a bat flying from cookie to cookie in a cookie field, knocking them off their stems: a cookie batter. A bush by a pond was covered with ticks. Goody recognized a loon-a-tick, whose bite would cause a person to feel compelled to dive for fish. They passed a field of candy corn, with a lady farmer made of candy. Nothing out of the ordinary.
"Maybe let's not mention my, ah, origin," Goody suggested. "I'm really not used to it."
"Agreed."
They found a campsite. A woman was there before them. "Hello," she said. "You must be new here. I'm Hazel; my talent is to change the color of my eyes." She demonstrated as she spoke, her eyes going from hazel to blue, and back again. "Welcome to No Man's Land. You will never be bothered by a man here; it's a sanctuary."
"What crap," the peeve said with Goody's voice.
Hazel's mouth tightened. "How's that?"
"It's the bird," Hannah said quickly. "It borrows our voices to insult people."
"Don't believe it, harridan!"
"We're looking for a good home for it," Goody said quickly. "It's a bit awkward to have around."
Hazel squinted at the peeve. "I can appreciate that. I don't think anyone here would want such a creature."
"What the bleep do you know, pooch?"
Hazel's face hardened. "Maybe you folk had better move on with your bird."
"We'll do that," Hannah agreed.
"The goblin's a boy," the peeve said.
So much for privacy; it was impossible with the bird.
"Not anymore," Hazel said. "Didn't you see the warning sign?"
"The bird flew in, and he had to follow," Hannah explained.
Hazel nodded. "Why don't you simply feed it to a nest of nickel-pedes?"
"So much for you, you vomit-faced Jezebel! No more Nice Bird! Now I'll really cuss you out!"
"We admit to being tempted," Hannah said quickly. "But our mission is to place it in a good home."
"No good home would accept such a wretch."
"This dump accepted you, you fixed canine."
"Is there anywhere I can get turned back into a man?" Goody asked. "We'll be happy to go there immediately."
Hazel considered half a moment. It was obvious that she wanted the bird to be far away, soon. "You might try No Woman's Land. I haven't been there, of course, but I understand it has a masculizing effect."
"Not that a butch like you needs it."
"Thank you," Goody said eagerly. "Where is it?"
"Somewhere beyond here. That's all I know."
"We'll find it," Hannah said grimly.
They departed the campsite quickly. "I wonder if we could tie string around the bird's beak to keep it shut," Hannah said.
"You wouldn't dare, you hotted up battledore."
Hannah reached toward the parody, but it flew up out of the way. It was merely a gesture; she hadn't moved as fast as she could have, and in a moment the bird settled back down to perch on Goody's shoulder. Their quarrels were becoming ritualized.
A swirl of smoke formed before them. "What's aloft?"
"What's this?" Hannah asked, surprised.
The cloud solidified. "Elevate, above, buoy, build, ascend—"
"Up?" Goody asked.
"Whatever," the shape agreed crossly.
"What the bleep are you?" Hannah demanded.
"The Demoness Metria," Goody said.
A luscious female form clarified. "And who are you, goblin girl?"
"Goody Goblin in drag," the parody said.
The demoness transformed into a glowing lightbulb, and back to herself. "Of course! This is No Man's Land. Not worth the stumble."
"Worth the what?" Hannah asked.
"Loss of balance, misstep, movement, passage, voyage—"
"Trip?"
"Whatever. There are no men to torment here, so what's the point?"
"What a nincompoop!" Goody's voice said.
The demoness oriented on him. "How's that again, Goblin?"
The parody answered before Goody could speak. "Nitwit, dope, clod, ass, pinhead—"
"I know the bleeping word!" the demoness snapped, fire flickering on her breath. "Do you want to live another millisecond, goblin?"
Hannah interposed herself. "It's the bird, using his voice. Her voice. Whatever."
The fire eased into hot coals. "Oh. So what does he/she want?"
"I want to get back my gender," Goody said. "Do you know where No Woman's Land is?"
"It won't drudge."
Goody hated this, but was stuck for it, because he wanted her help. "Won't what?"
"Strain, pull, exert, labor, do a job—"
"Work?"
"Whatever! You can't get from here to there."
"But I have to change back!"
"Too bad. Oo-toodle." Metria faded out.
"Oo-toodle?" Hannah asked.
"She gets her words confused," Goody said.
"Didn't you notice, poop-for-brains?"
Hannah flicked a finger at the bird, reminding Goody oddly of the Finger that had started him on this adventure, and the parody twitched a wing as if ready to fly.
"So it seems we have a problem," the barbarian said.
"We?"
"Less of one for me. Do you think you can complete your mission as a gobliness?"
"No!"
"But you know your personality already matches. You can make a very good lady goblin."
"Something's missing."
"Fortunately it doesn't show."
"Haw haw haw!" the peeve laughed.
Goody didn't find it all that funny, but realized that the bird hadn't meant him to be amused. "We've got to get to No Woman's Land."
"But the demoness said—"
"Metria may not have had quite the right word."
She looked at him with masked pity. "Very well. We'll search for the route."
They walked on. Soon they came to a dog whose body was in the shape of a numbered dial with a long pointer and a short pointer radiating from its center. It was sitting and scratching ceaselessly.
Goody had sympathy for animals in trouble. "What's the matter?" he asked it.
The dog glanced at him as if he were an idiot and went on scratching.
"I believe that's a watch dog," Hannah said.
"And it's got ticks," the peeve said.
Goody realized that there was no cure for what ailed the dog, because when the ticks stopped, so would the dog. So he walked on, hoping this was not a clumsy parallel to his own situation.
Next they came to an olive green girl sitting beside the path. She was holding a baby. This seemed odd, because the storks normally did not deliver to children.
"Let's leave the peeve out of this," Hannah said. "Better that you talk to her alone."
"Bleep!" But the bird fluttered to her shoulder, knowing that nothing would happen until it did.
Goody walked on. The girl continued to croon to her baby.
"Hello, little girl," Goody said, wondering whether it would be polite to inquire about the baby. Probably not, but he could ask about No Woman's Land.
"Hello, goblin girl," the child replied.
"I am Goody. I was wondering—"
"I am I love you."
That set him back. "I don't think I—"
"Olive Hue," she repeated carefully. "Because I'm green."
Oh. "I apologize for mishearing."
"That's all right. Everybody does. I'm green because I envy all you normal folk with real friends. What's your talent?"
"I'm not sure I
have one. Most goblins don't."
"Mine's to make imaginary friends. This is Lorlai."
"Lorelei?" he asked, surprised, because that was the name of the Siren's sister.
"Lorlai Fiona," she said carefully. "She's 4.7 months old. She needs me."
"I apologize for—"
"Everybody does. I can make others."
"Others?"
"Imaginary friends." The baby faded out.
Goody was finding this exchange to be more challenging than anticipated. "Uh, all right."
Two bigger girls appeared. They were evidently twins, one of light complexion, the other dark.
"Hello, Goody," the dark one said. "I am Olive's imaginary friend Suretha. My talent is to turn day to night." The light of day faded, and the scene became dark.
"And I am her sister Sharina," the other girl said. "My talent is to turn night to day." The darkness abated, and it was day again.
Goody digested this. Imaginary friends with real talents? That gave him a wild notion. "I am impressed. Maybe you can help me."
"Sure. But my friends don't last." The twins faded out.
"I am looking for something and don't know where or how to find it. Would any of your friends—"
"Sure."
An older woman appeared. "Hello, Goody. I am Mysteria. My talent is to create what is needed, but I don't know what it is or how to use it."
Goody wasn't sure about that, but maybe it was better than nothing. "Would you be willing to create what I need?"
"Certainly." An object appeared in her hand. She proffered it to him.
Goody looked at it. It was a small statuette or a large key in the shape of a person. "Thank you."
But Mysteria was already fading out. The object, however, remained.
"Uh, may I keep this?" he asked Olive, who now had the baby back.
"Sure. It's yours." She resumed crooning.
"Thank you." He walked back to Hannah and the peeve.
"About time!" the bird carped. "Day and night passed waiting on you, you slacker."
So the effects had been real for the others too. Those were truly remarkable imaginary friends!
"Any luck?" Hannah asked.
"Some, but I'm not sure what kind." He showed the statuette. "This is what I need."
"What does it do?"
"I don't know."
"How do you use it?"
"I don't know that either."
"What an ignoramus!"
"And is its purpose and application clear to you, peeve?" he demanded as he pocketed the object. That shut the bird up, for a while. "Well, maybe the answers will come," Hannah said dubiously. They walked on. They came to a field of hot crossed buns that looked delicious. It was midday, so Goody picked one and bit into it.
Pet Peeve Page 6
