Man From Mundania (30 page)

impressed her. In fact, she had seemed irritated when he

insisted on seeking the source of the river of blood. Maybe

that was what had been wrong with his life before: he had

been trying to impress people, and had had inadequate

resources, instead of just focusing on what was right. But

now, with Ivy, he didn't care about any of that; he just

wanted to make her happy.

Then he thought of something else. "But can I justify

telling them something I know is not true? I mean—"

"You're playing their game," Ivy said quickly. "They

told you this was a hate spring. So you agree, but tell them

your magic counters it. You're a liar only if they are."

He wasn't quite sure of that logic. Still, this whole realm

was a setting, a phenomenal setting, and it was easiest to

go along with its rules. That's why he referred to goblins

instead of dwarves or simulacra, and to the centaur instead

of trying to figure out how the thing was animated. "Okay,

for now, until I reason it out better. Take my hand; my

supposed magic must seem to extend to you while you are

in contact with me, so you can brave the bad water."

She took his hand. Hand in hand they waded into the

water. "See, goblins!" he cried. "My magic counters your

hate water! I can wade in it without hating anyone—even

you!"

The goblins watched, dismayed. They looked to their

chief, but Grey preempted Grotesk's response. "You know

that's true, don't you, chief!" he cried, playing up to the

lie. "You know that if this water touches others, they will

be affected by it." He extended his free hand and made

as if to scoop some water. "If I splash them—"

"Don't do that!" the goblin chief exclaimed with evi-

dent alarm.

Grey put on his crudest smile, hoping it worked. He

had guessed right: Grotesk had to support him in this ruse!

"Yes, you know what will happen! So don't tempt me,

sour-snoot!"

The chief didn't tempt him. The goblin had to maintain

the illusion of the water's power. "You said you were

Mundane!"

"Well, maybe I exaggerated," Grey said. Mundanes,

of course, were not supposed to have magic. But Grotesk

could not point that out, without giving away his own se-

cret.

They waded up to the edge, but did not step out of the

water. "Now before we go, I want you to return the lady's

property," Grey said. "Bring her mirror."

"Har, bar, har!" a goblin in the rear laughed. "Fat

chance!"

Grey leaned down so that his hand was within reach of

the water. "If the goblin who spoke cares to step forward,

I have something for him," he said evenly. The truth was

he was quite nervous; how far could he push this bluff

before the goblins called it?

There was a silence. Grey looked around as if per-

plexed. "What, is no one in the Golden Horde thirsty?"

he inquired. "Well, perhaps if I proffer a free sample—"

He swished his hand through the water.

"Bring the mirror!" Grotesk shouted.

There was a stir, and soon a goblin brought the mirror.

"Don't splash!" he pleaded.

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"I won't splash if I get what I want," Grey said. "Ivy,

take the mirror, but don't let go of my hand. I can't protect

you if you aren't in contact.''

"Yes," Ivy said, doing a marvelousjob of looking very

nervous about the water; she clung tightly to his hand. She

reached forward; the goblin stood at the bank and ex-

tended the mirror, and she took it while the chief glow-

ered.

"Now we shall need transportation away from here,"

Grey said. "Bring the centaur."

But Grotesk had just figured out a cunning counterploy.

"Back away from the water!" he cried. "Get out of

splashing range!"

Uh-oh. That would allow the chief to keep his secret,

and grab them when they left the pool. "Ivy, do you have

a cup?"

Ivy reached over her shoulder, set the mirror in her

backpack, and pulled out a cup.

"Dip it full, and throw water at anyone who looks trou-

blesome," Grey said.

She dipped it. Then they stepped out of the water, still

holding hands. The goblins retreated. Grey saw that a

number of them held stones or clubs, but no one acted

because the chief hadn't told them to. Grotesk couldn't

afford to act until that cup of water was gone—and he

couldn't afford to have them throw it on any goblins and

demonstrate its worthlessness.

They walked across to the centaur. "Can you carry both

of us, if we free you?" Grey inquired.

"I think so," the creature replied. "I've been a beast

of burden for these monsters; I'm miserable but strong.

But this is a magic halter; only the chief can untie it."

"The chief, eh?" Grey glanced across at Grotesk and

realized that this was another bluff. "Well, I have a special

talent with knots, too, so—"

"No, Grey," Ivy murmured. "No one in Xanth has two

magic talents."

Grey was sure the halter wasn't magic; it was just so

constructed that the centaur's own hands could not reach

Man from Mundania

139

the key clasps to undo it. But he had to play by the rules.

"Well, maybe my magic knife will cut it," he said loudly.

He brought out his knife and sliced at the tough material

of the halter. Fortunately, he kept his knife sharp; the

strands parted. Some fevered sawing severed the section

under the centaur's arm. "Now it is broken; you can lift

it free," he said.

The centaur did just that. In a moment the halter was

off. "That's some knife!" he exclaimed. "I got a sharp-

edged stone once and managed to saw at it without being

observed, but the magic was too strong, and I got no-

where."

"Now we shall ride you out of here," Grey said. "The

water will not affect you as long as you are in contact with

me, so don't be concerned if it splashes out of the cup."

That was literally true: the water would not affect the cen-

taur while in contact—or at any other time. "She will fling

it at any goblin who comes too close. Are you ready?"

The centaur glanced nervously at the cup. "Yes," he

said uncertainly.

It was tricky mounting without letting go of Ivy's hand,

and for the sake of appearances he had to keep holding it.

But the centaur reached back and helped her up, and then

Grey got up behind her.

"Start walking," Grey said. "Slowly, so as not to make

them do anything foolish, until we get away from this

camp.''

"Gotcha," the centaur said. He stepped carefully for-

ward.

"I'm sure you can run very fast when you need to,"

Ivy remarked.

But goblins closed in across the path, lead by a sub-

chief. "I think it's a fake!" the subchief cried. "That wa-

ter's lost its hate!"

Ivy flung the water at the subchief. The goblin tried to

leap back, but the water caught him and also splashed

across several others near him.

The first thing the wetted goblins saw was the ugly faces

of their companions. For an instant they stared. Then they

exploded into violence. The subchief swung his club at

140 Man from Mundania

the one he faced, and two others fell to pummeling each

other.

"Let's get out of here!" Grey said.

"You can do it!" Ivy cried to the centaur. "You're su-

perstrong and fast!"

The centaur needed no urging. He leaped over the near-

est goblins and shot off down the path. The goblin fight

was spreading, and none of the nearest ones were chasing

the centaur. But the more distant ones raised a cry of

alarm. "Get them! They're escaping!"

But it was too late. Even doubly loaded, the centaur

could run faster than the stubby-legged goblins, especially

on the well-beaten path. A few stones flew, but missed.

They had made it to freedom.

Well away from the goblin camp, they left the path.

"We had better find a river and wash off the hate water

on your legs," the centaur said. "Otherwise it will affect

the two of us the moment you stop touching us."

"Not to worry," Grey said. "It's not magic water; that

was Grotesk's bluff."

"But it is, "the centaur insisted. "It made those goblins

fight the moment it touched them!"

"That was psychological. They believed it would affect

them that way, so it did."

"Well, I believe in it!" the centaur said. "I saw it work

more than once, when the chief wanted to discipline some-

one. I want it all off me before you get off me."

Grey shrugged. It made sense for a magical creature to

believe in magic. "Do you know where a suitable river

is?"

"Yes, there's a stream not far from here. It flows into

the Gap."

"The Gap!" Ivy exclaimed. "We're going there!"

"But it's dangerous!" the centaur protested. "The Gap

Dragon runs there!"

"We'd better introduce ourselves," Ivy said. "I'm Prin-

cess Ivy of Castle Roogna."

"Really?" the centaur asked, amazed. "I have heard of

you. You enhance folk."

Man from Mundania

141

"Yes. I helped you run faster and stronger."