Xone of Contention
Page 21
Pia nodded. She had been speaking rhetorically, having already caught on to this particular idiocy. It made a certain nonsensical sense, but she still preferred to argue the case. “But I’ve been telling you how to test the limits of the Conspiracy. Why am I not stopped from doing that?”
“The Conspiracy is very literal. To a considerable degree, words are more important than actions. So there are things you can do but not speak.”
He was echoing what she had told him that morning, perhaps having forgotten in his distraction. So she argued the opposite case. “That’s ludicrous! Actions have to be more important than words.”
“Breanna shares your sentiment. She feels that the Adult Conspiracy is a vestige of idiotic misguided censorious foolishness. But it has the staying power of almost universal acceptance, so can’t be ignored.”
“For sure,” she said, smiling. He had now almost openly questioned the validity of the conspiracy. Breanna would follow that up with a vengeance, tonight.
The harpies landed. The boat bumped on the ground. “Thanks, chumps,” one screeched.
“You are indubitably welcome, fair creatures,” Justin called back as they took off.
“Do they understand irony?” Pia asked.
“If they don’t, they will be truly annoyed, because beauty is no compliment to a normal harpy.”
“But they did help us,” Edsel said. “And they’re not bad birds. They could have dropped us when we had that trouble over the Gap Chasm.”
Pia hadn’t thought of that. “Not bad birds,” she agreed weakly.
Para knew the way, and was heading north toward the nearby castle. “I guess it will be up to me to get into that castle,” Pia said. “Since it’s my quest.”
“It is true that Breanna and I are otherwise engaged, as your Companions, and have already been there,” Justin agreed. “In fact that is where we first met.” He rolled his eyes reflectively. “What a dear girl.”
“What kind of challenges did you face?”
“Mare Imbri put us together, my mind joining hers in her body, and we tackled them together. We used parallax to locate the castle itself, as it was concealed by illusion. Then we navigated a sticky situation, answered some awkward questions, and rescued Mare Imbri from a dream catcher. The main challenge was figuring out the actual nature of the challenges we were encountering.”
“But I gather they won’t be the same challenges this time.”
“That is true. There are always three, of different natures, tailored to the querent.”
“Querent?”
“The person or persons seeking an answer to a question.”
“Querent,” she agreed. “Since I’m Mundane, just about any magic thing will be a considerable challenge to me. Will I be able to get through?”
“They are crafted to be possible to pass, but they are never easy. Wits rather than power seem to be the operative factor.”
“I’d better have Edsel along; he’s sharp with puns and riddles.”
“We will all come along, including Para. But the challenges will surely be directed at you.”
The boat approached the castle. It looked conventional as such things went, with a cleared region, a moat, and an inner wall. “It looks peaceful enough,” Pia said.
“That would be deceptive.”
A toothy head on a serpentine neck rose from the water of the moat. “Oh, look!” Breanna cried, delighted. “The moat monster.”
“You like moat monsters?” Pia asked her.
“Sure; they’re an endangered species. There are only three castles in Xanth with formal moats, and one of them is Castle Zombie, which isn’t suitable for a living monster. So it’s between Castle Roogna and the Good Magician’s castle. Soufflé shuffles between them. But this is a different one. Probably because I know Soufflé wouldn’t really eat a person, so the moat wouldn’t be secure.”
“This one will eat a person?” Pia asked, feeling slightly unwell.
“For sure. Isn’t it great?”
“Breanna favors the classic elements,” Justin explained. “So much is changing in Xanth that it’s nice to see some old conventions retained.” “Like people getting eaten by moat monsters,” Pia said, with attempted irony.
“Precisely. This merely means we must not venture into the moat.”
“The drawbridge is down,” Pia said.
“Yes, that is the obvious crossing point.”
“So something will stop us from crossing it?”
“That seems likely.”
“I wish we had a handbook with instructions,” Pia said.
Edsel reached out to pick something up. “Maybe this is it.”
She looked. It was a book—made of hands. There was no print in it. She opened her mouth.
“I know,” Edsel said quickly, setting the book down. “Sick joke. Can’t read it. I guess it makes me an ill literate.”
She had to smile. It was hard to stay mad at him. “Well, let’s just keep going and see what stops us.”
Para advanced toward the bridge. But then a barrier of sorts appeared. It seemed to be a low table with plates and bread set on it. The butter knives were yellow. In fact they seemed to be made of butter. That figured.
The boat stopped, as the table crossed the path and was a bit too high for the short duck legs to navigate. In any event it wouldn’t do to walk on a dining table.
Pia looked to the sides, but they were steep and apparently slippery banks, not suitable for walking across. The way was straight ahead. Beyond was the bridge, which remained lowered.
Pia climbed out of the boat. The others joined her. “Has Breanna been explaining this to you?” she asked Edsel.
“For sure,” he said, with half a smile. “They’ve been through it before, so it’s really us who will have to handle three Challenges this time. We’ll need to keep our wits about us.”
“This table blocks the way, so it must be a Challenge. What do you make of it?”
“It looks like lunch at a restaurant. But somehow I don’t think we’re supposed to eat those tarts.”
“They’re not tarts. They’re bread rolls.”
“Roll, roll, roll your boat,” he said in singsong. “Gently down the stream.”
She stamped her foot. “This is serious, Ed. What do we do to pass the Challenge?”
“What’s the Challenge?”
“I don’t know!”
He decided he had teased her enough. “There must be some hint of a problem, and of a solution. We just have to see it.”
“For sure,” she said somewhat acidly.
“Let’s experiment.” He sat cross-legged by the table and reached for one of the pieces of bread.
It put down legs and ran away from his hand.
Pia was less surprised than she would have been had she not seen the Pie & Ears by the Gap Chasm. The inanimate all too often became animate in Xanth.
“So you’re not for eating,” Edsel said. “What are you for?”
The things on the table came to life. Rolls of assorted types and sizes walked to the center of the table. Then one sprouted hands and picked up a little pastry cowboy hat, putting it on. The bread strutted around in the manner of a tough cowboy. A second one picked up a fancy lady’s hat, preening. A third found a crown, and started lording it over the other bread.
“They seem to be playing a game,” Pia said, mystified. “Acting out parts.”
Edsel looked at her. “By George, I think she’s got it,” he said.
“Stop clowning around.”
“These breads are playing a game,” he said carefully. “A rollplaying game.”
“Stop joking!” she snapped. “This is serious.”
“No joke, Pi. See, they have settled down.”
It was true. The bread was inert again, without arms or legs. Edsel’s stupid comment must have satisfied a requirement.
But the table remained. “It must be my turn,” Pia said. She sat down by the table, folding her legs
carefully under her so as not to show more than was proper. She reached for a roll.
It rolled away. Was that a pun—a roll rolling? So she put out both hands, attempting to corral another one. It sprouted legs and ran away before she could catch it.
“All right,” she said, “What are you for?”
The bread came to life. One roll picked up some cloth and draped it around itself. It walked across the table, turned with flair, and walked back. Then another took the cloth and walked the same way, with exaggerated steps.
“It’s almost sexy,” Edsel said.
“Don’t be coarse.” But his crude remark triggered a revelation. “They are models,” she said. “Roll models.”
All the rolls went inert. The table settled into the ground and disappeared, leaving the breads strewn across the path.
“I think that did it,” Breanna said. “You each figured out one of the buns. I mean puns. Now we can eat the bread.” She picked up a roll and took a bite from it. There was no protest.
Pia felt uneasy about it, but tried it herself. The roll she picked up was just that: inanimate bread. She picked up the butter knife, inserted the blade, and broke it off inside the bread, thus buttering it. She nibbled, and it tasted fresh and good.
“Maybe the animation was illusion,” Edsel said. “This is good stuff.”
“There is a lot of illusion in Xanth,” Justin said. “It can be extremely useful.”
“It wasn’t what I expected,” Pia said, “but it was indeed a challenge.”
“For sure,” the other three said together.
They ate the rolls, then moved on to the drawbridge. It remained down, and the way across the boat seemed clear. Except for one thing: the moat monster’s head was now beside it, looking down. The monster could readily snap up something that tried to cross.
They halted just shy of the bridge. Pia did not like the look of this. “Maybe the challenge is to distract the monster, so we can pass unmolested.”
“That might work,” Edsel said. “But how does the last one across do it?”
“Someone will have to stay outside,” Pia said. “Maybe Para. Maybe he can swim in the moat, after the challenge is done.”
“It works for me,” Edsel said. “Okay, you cross while I distract,” He walked beside the moat until he got a fair distance away. Then he jumped and waved his arms. “Hey, snoot-face! Come and get me!”
The moat monster glanced at him, then turned back to the bridge. It didn’t move.
Para waddled out the other way, then entered the water. The monster glanced, but made to motion in that direction. It didn’t care who shared the moat.
“Maybe we can swim,” Edsel called. “Instead of using the bridge.” He put a toe to the water.
The serpent whipped around. It swam lithely through the water. In half a moment it was there. But Edsel had hastily withdrawn his foot. “Just testing,” he said, sheepishly.
The monster writhed sinuously, reorienting on the bridge. It was clear that it could get there before a person could walk all the way across it.
Edsel returned to the bridge. “But you know, it might work if a person ran across,” he said. “It seems it is only humans the monster is after.”
“Justin and I could distract it, while you two raced across,” Breanna suggested.
“Wouldn’t that be cheating?” Pia asked.
“If it is, you won’t get across,” Justin said. “The Good Magician’s Challenges can’t be avoided by ruse or fraud.”
“But could be you’d be alone in the castle,” Breanna warned. “Which is maybe okay, and we’ll wait for you, but you need to be ready.”
Pia exchanged a glance with Edsel. “Let’s try it,” she said.
They tried it. Justin and Breanna went to the side and splashed the water. The monster went after them. They stepped back.
“Do we risk it?” Edsel inquired.
“I—” She hesitated, not at all sure this was worth the risk. Then a bulb flashed before her face. “I get it! It’s another pun. The human race.”
“We’re human—we race across—a human race,” he agreed. “So it must be okay; you cracked the code.”
“Last one across’s a rotten egg!” she cried, and sprinted for the far side.
He followed, and soon overhauled her. But he didn’t run ahead; he simply paced her, glancing to the side.
She looked. The moat monster was swimming toward them, its course about to intersect. It was going to be close.
She couldn’t speed up; she was already doing her best, and panting, and she had a side stitch. She just wasn’t used to exertion like this.
“I’d help you,” Edsel puffed. “But then it wouldn’t be a race.”
And it had to be a race. She nodded and struggled on.
The monster’s head struck. She heard its teeth clash right behind her. Then they were across, and she felt herself falling, but couldn’t stop.
Edsel caught her and held her up. “We made it,” he said. “I don’t think the monster really tried. It knew we had solved the pun.”
She just hung in his arms and panted. There were times when it was nice to have his physical support. As her bleary gaze wandered across the moat, she saw the monster sink under the water. Its job was done.
Justin, Breanna, and Para crossed the bridge, unmenaced. They were not a true part of the challenge.
Pia caught her breath and her balance, and turned to look at the castle from up close. The detail differed from what she had thought, or maybe it had changed. The stone wall was now rounded, probably circling the castle, and had arched doorways every few feet. This seemed remarkably porous for a defensive rampart.
She looked at the moat. There were docks extending into it all along, as if ready for many boats at once. Some were tall, standing well above the waterline; others were barely above the water. “Why the difference in height?” Pia asked.
Edsel shrugged. “Must be high piers and low piers, for tall and short ships.”
“Ships? Here? It’s a moat,” she reminded him witheringly.
He nodded. “In any event, we are past the moat, so I don’t think it’s a challenge.”
“Maybe the third Challenge is farther in,” Edsel said.
“We may be certain that it will manifest in its own manner,” Justin said. “I think that Breanna and I had better wait here while you explore.”
Pia walked to the nearest archway. As she reached it, a centaur appeared, with a man on his back. The centaur had a bow, and the man had a spear. “You shall not pass,” both said together.
Pia retreated. “I think it just manifested,” she said.
“For sure,” Breanna agreed.
“Let me try,” Edsel said. He walked to the next portal beyond.
There was the centaur, without the man. “I regret to say that you are not permitted to pass,” he said politely.
Pia walked past that one and tried the third aperture. The man appeared. “Forget it,” he said gruffly.
“Who are you?” she asked, striking a winsome pose.
“I am Christopher Christopher. And you are?”
“I am Pia Putz.” She smiled, and saw him soften. “Are you sure we can’t pass?”
“Very sure,” Christopher said regretfully.
“Not even for a kiss?”
The man looked truly reluctant. “Not even for that.”
She walked on to the next portal. There was the centaur again. Or was it really the same one? “Who are you?”
“Cy Clone,” the centaur growled. “Now get out of here before I throw you into the moat.”
She retreated. The centaur looked the same, but didn’t sound the same as the one who had braced Edsel.
She rejoined Edsel. “There seems to be a man or centaur blocking each passage. They look the same, but I’m not sure they are.”
“Right. They don’t talk the same. Maybe they’re twins or triplets.”
“They don’t attack, they just warn u
s away,” she said. “Maybe we should check the other arches.”
“You go one way, I’ll go the other, and we’ll meet on the other side.”
She nodded, and set off.
Every portal was blocked. There were two centaurs and several similar men. The centaurs were shy and bold, respectively, or peaceful and violent. Evidently they trotted to whichever portal she was headed for. Maybe there was just one man, but he was everywhere, either by himself or with a centaur.
She met Edsel on the far side. “All blocked,” she said. “More men than centaurs.”
“Christopher throughout,” he said. “Cy Centaur and Cy Clone, the mean one.”
“The same ones I saw,” she said. “I suppose the centaurs could alternate sides, but how could the man get around so swiftly? He never looked out of breath.”
Edsel was thoughtful. “So is it one man, or several with the same name?”
“And two centaurs, or more than two?”
“I think this is our riddle. Do you think there’s a pun we’re not getting?”
“From what Justin told me, the Challenges don’t have to be puns.” she said. “But if it’s not a pun, then what?”
“There must be something about these people we need to understand.”
“Like how many of them there are, really.”
“Maybe we can narrow it down,” he said. “Let’s go until we find two of them together. Then—”
“Got it,” she agreed.
They circled together, back the way she had come. When they came to a man/centaur combination, Pia stayed to talk with them, putting on her winsome air and holding their attention. She had always been good at this sort of thing, and with her lovely sixteen year old face and figure, she was better, because she knew exactly how to use these assets. She had never tried fascinating a centaur before, but they had enough human attributes to be subject to some wiles. She smiled, she moved her hips, she gushed over their masculine appeal, she lifted a leg to adjust her shoe, and leaned well forward, showing just enough thigh and breast to guarantee continued attention. It was a science that worked well enough in the land of magic.
Meanwhile Edsel faded away. She gave him as much time as she could, keeping the two males anchored in place.