Man From Mundania (10 page)

Read Man From Mundania Online

Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Princesses, #Magic, #Epic, #Fantasy fiction; American, #Xanth (Imaginary place)

do a favor for anyone else. That seemed to be typical of

this dull land.

 

Then a pretty blue car slowed. "Ppqt!" Grey said,

seeming chagrined rather than pleased. He tried to back

away from the road, but the blue car pulled to the side to

intercept him.

 

There were two people inside, dressed in blue, with

squashed flat caps and shiny copper buttons. Ivy recog-

nized the type: demons! She had seen them on the Tap-

estry. These were of the variety known as Flatfeet, who

were devoted to interfering with travelers. No wonder Grey

was alarmed.

 

But it was too late. The Platfoot on the right gestured

to them. Ivy knew better than to try to run; demons could

always catch normal folk, unless there was strong coun-

tering magic. However, she also knew that the hassling

was usually harmless; the demons liked to make people

assume odd positions, and to pat them all along their bod-

ies, and ask embarrassing questions, but after they had had

their fun they generally moved on to other things.

 

"Xifsf zpv Ijet hpjoh? Epo'u zopx ju't jmmfhbm up

ijudiijif? Mfu't tff vpvs JE," the Platfoot said gruffly.

 

 

 

 

44
        
Man from Mundania

 

Grey tried to explain, in similar gibberish, but of course

the demons didn't listen; they never did. They made him

take out his wallet, which was a little flat folder containing

various cards and the odd mundane "money" of which

Grey had very little. They perused his cards, and the nearer

Flatfoot frowned in his best demonic fashion. Apparently

 

Grey had passed inspection.

 

"Cvu uif hjsm—tif mppit voefsbhf. Jbwf up difdl ifs

 

upp."

 

The Flatfoot turned to Ivy and held out his fat hand,

 

palm up. Oh, no—was he going to go into the patting

routine? She really wouldn't care for that.

 

Grey turned to her, holding up his wallet, which the

Flatfoot had returned. Suddenly she realized that the de-

mon wanted to look at her wallet—and of course she didn't

have one. She had observed that the wallets of most Mun-

dane women were much larger than those of the men, and

contained everything except kitchen sinks, but she didn't

have one of those either. "I don't have any," she ex-

plained.

 

The demon's eyes widened, and Ivy realized her mis-

take. She had agreed with Grey to keep silent, to let him

do the talking, because what she said sounded almost hu-

morously garbled to Mundanes. They had compared notes,

after the first siege of garbling, and laughed. When she

told him "You're talking gibberish" he had heard "Eu-

rope talcum giddiness," and when she asked "You can't

understand me either?" it had come out "Yukon tundra

stammer eater?" But the worst had been when she asked

"But why could I understand you before, then?" and he

had heard something like "Buttery cookie unstable yodel

fourteen?" Discussing that, she had raided his meager re-

frigerator—a box that was magically cold inside—and

found cookies and butter. Sure enough, there had been

five of them, which crumbled when she tried to spread the

hard butter on them (unstable) and become fourteen frag-

ments. They had laughed and laughed. And there was the

key to their relationship: they got along well together,

laughing at the same things. She had never had that ex-

perience with a man before, only with Nada and Electra.

 

Man from Mundania
         
45

 

But now the demon was gazing at her in annoyed won-

der—demons were good at such expressions—and she

knew she was in trouble. How could she explain that she

was from Xanth, when the Flatfeet would not believe in

Xanth? But, as Grey had warned her, if any Mundanes

thought she really believed in Xanth, they would assume

she was crazy, and that would be worse mischief. So even

if she could talk their language, it wouldn't do much good.

 

What could she do? She shut her mouth and spread her

hands. She had nothing to show them.

 

"Uibu epftju: tif't b svobxbz!" the Flatfoot said. His

door swung open and he heaved his ponderous bulk out.

"Dpnfpo—xfsfubljoh zpvjo!" he snapped, grabbing Ivy

by the arm.

 

She looked at Grey for guidance, but he just looked

back helplessly. She understood the problem: it was im-

possible to escape from demons, so it was necessary to

go along with them. Maybe it would be all right.

 

The two of them were put in the back of the Flatfoot's

car, which then caromed away down the road. Grey held

her hand, trying to provide comfort, though it was evident

that he had little control of the situation. Soon they arrived

at the demon's residence, where male and female Flatfoots

abounded, and there were many of the fierce blue cars

with flashing lights on top. What a fearsome place!

 

There was more talking, then a matron demoness took

Ivy by the arm. Ivy hung back, not wanting to be sepa-

rated from Grey, but he made a gesture that this was all

right.

 

The matron took her to a small chamber where there

were chairs and a table. Then she spoke gibberish in a

questioning tone. Ivy merely spread her hands, knowing

better than to speak again.

 

Then the matron brought out pictures: men, women,

children, table, chair, car—everything was in this collec-

tion, it seemed. She pointed to a picture of a man, then

brought her hand up to her forehead, almost touching the

hairline. Then she flattened her hand and brought it away

from her head, palm down. "Nbo," she said firmly.

 

What was she up to? Ivy kept her mouth shut.

 

 

 

 

46

 

Man from Mundania

 

Man from Mundania

 

47

 

The matron pointed to a picture of a woman. She made

a fist with her thumb up, then flattened her hand as she

had before, and moved it out at the level of her cheek.

"Xpnbo."

 

Ivy watched, saying nothing.

 

The woman pointed to herself, and made the second

gesture again. Then she pointed to Ivy, and made it once

more.

 

Suddenly Ivy caught on. This gesture indicated a

woman! She lifted her own hand, thumb up, then flattened

it, imitating the gesture.

 

The matron smiled. She pointed to the picture of the

man.

 

Ivy promptly made the higher gesture.

 

"Wfsz hppe!" the matron exclaimed, pleased.

 

The significance of this was not lost on Ivy. This was a

way to communicate that bypassed the spoken language!

With this she could talk to the Mundanes! Though she

hoped not to be in Mundania much longer, she realized

that her inability to speak their peculiar language could

prevent her from escaping it, because the Mundanes would

think she was unable to speak or was crazy. She needed

to satisfy them that she was a normal person so that they

would leave her alone—and here was the way to do it.

 

She dived into the sign-language lesson with a ven-

geance. She told herself that she was very smart at this

kind of thing, and therefore she was, because though magic

might not work very well here, her power of enhancement

still worked on herself. She quickly mastered the signs for

"man," "woman," "girl" (merely a smaller "woman")

and got into more general terms, such as the one for going

somewhere: the two index fingers rotating around each

other in the manner of a wheel rolling forward. The ma-

tron was amazed and pleased; it seemed she had never

before had so apt a student.

 

There was a knock at the door panel, and a Flatfoot

appeared. The matron, startled, glanced at her wrist,

where a funny bracelet was. The ornament had a round

flat surface like that of a sundial, and two little lines whose

position changed magically, because they never changed

 

while Ivy was looking but were always different when she

looked away and then back at it. Then the matron spoke

rapidly to the Flatfoot, who departed.

 

The matron faced Ivy and made a gesture toward her

mouth several times, as if pushing something into it. Ivy

was perplexed; what did this mean? Too much talk? Rather

than struggle with that. Ivy inquired about the bracelet.

 

The matron tapped the back of her wrist with a finger

several times, then made a funny fist and circled it across

her other flat palm. Ivy shook her head; she couldn't make

sense of this. The matron opened her picture book and

pointed to a similar bracelet there, with the word "xbudi"

beneath it. Apparently it was just a special kind of deco-

ration.

 

Then the Flatfoot reappeared with a package. The ma-

tron took it and opened it. Inside were several sandwiches

and two of the funny Mundane paper boxes of milk.

 

Ivy made a lightning connection. This was food! The

matron didn't need to make the hand-to-mouth sign again;

 

it was obvious that it meant "eat." Ivy was famished.

More time had passed than she had realized, and she hadn't

had breakfast anyway. It was now around midday.

 

The matron gave Ivy two sandwiches and one box of

milk, and took the others herself. Ivy quickly picked up

the terms for "egg salad sandwich" and "milk"—the lat-

ter was most peculiar, involving the squeezing of the two

hands separately as if hauling on short ropes, instead of

the obvious plucking of a milkweed pod—and ate eagerly

as the lesson continued.

 

Now it was business: the matron was questioning her,

using the signs they had established. Where is Ivy going?

 

Oops! Ivy understood the question well enough, but how

could she answer? If she said "Xanth," she would be

deemed crazy. But then she saw the way through:

 

Ivy is going home. The sign for "home" was like the

one for "eat" and "sleep," because home was where a

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