Man From Mundania (33 page)

was a nut pie. Well, he had been wrong. He was glad he

hadn't tried to eat it.

Other goblins charged in turn. He picked other pies and

shoved them in their faces, long distance. He should have

been tired by this time, but he wasn't; his strength was

maintaining just as had that of the centaur. He hurled a

shoe-fly pie, and its shoe kicked the rear of a goblin and

booted the goblin over the edge. He threw a papaya pie,

and it sang "I'm papaya the sailor man!" and whistled as

it slugged the goblin.

At last he was down to two pies, having used all the

rest. Three goblins remained. He knew he couldn't afford

to let even one remain above while he descended the path,

because that one could scuff the sand and perhaps start a

little avalanche that would destroy his route. How could

he be sure of taking out three with only two pies?

Well, he would just have to go hand to hand with the

last one. He glanced at the pies: one was custard, the other

pineapple. Neither looked promising, but they would have

to do.

He picked the custard. "Custard's last stand!" he cried

as he heaved it at the charging goblin.

The custard struck squarely on the ugly face. The gloppy

stuff wrapped itself around the bulbous head and clung

tenaciously. The goblin pawed at it, trying to get his eyes

clear, but before he succeeded he stepped off the cliff and

was gone. Only the fading sound of his cussing remained.

Well, it was a cuss-tard pie,

The last two goblins consisted of the subchief, who had

tried to stop them before, and one henchman. "Charge

him together, and one of us. will get him!" he said.

"But there's no room!"

"Yes, there is, if we charge slowly and carefully and

keep in step." And indeed there was, this way, for the

narrow ledge had been widened by the tramp of the prior

goblins' big feet. The two approached carefully.

Grey was worried. The enemy had finally gotten smart!

He had only the one pie left, and while he could score on

one goblin, the other would be able to charge him from

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close range and perhaps sweep him off the ledge in the

manner of a football blocker. These goblins didn't seem

to care what losses they took, as long as they got him.

Well, he would just have to use what he had. He picked

the pineapple pie and hefted it. He would throw it at the

subchief, who was surely the more cunning and motivated

of the two. Then he would handle the other in whatever

way he could.

"Watch out—that's a pineapple!" the subchief cried.

Both goblins halted. Then they started backing away.

Grey was surprised. Was this a ruse? Were they pre-

tending fear, so that he would relax and then they would

turn on him and catch him off guard? He resolved not to

be drawn out of position.

The two goblins retreated all the way back out of sight.

This was curious indeed! What were they up to? He didn't

dare try to follow them—but if he started down the path,

they could return at any moment and wreak mischief on

his head.

Maybe he could fake them out. He got down on the

path, then squatted, so that he could duck down into the

small crevice. They would think he had started down when

he hadn't; then when they came, he could smite one of

them with the pie.

He waited. Sure enough, soon he heard them returning.

He waited until they sounded close enough, then stood up,

pie ready.

The two goblins were there—but so was another crea-

ture. It looked like a male sheep with horrendously broad

and curled horns.

The subchief spied him. "So it was a trick. Mundane!

You can't fool a cunning goblin. And your pie can't stop

this battering ram!"

The sheep charged, head down. A battering ram! That

certainly could knock him off the edge!

Grey, poised with the pie, decided to ditch it. Maybe

the ram would hurtle right past him if he ducked at the

last moment.

He hurled the pie over the head of the ram, at the two

waiting goblins. It struck the subchief—and detonated.

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153

Juice and pineapple bits exploded outward, and both gob-

lins were blown off the edge.

So that was the pun in pineapple! It was made of gre-

nades! He should have guessed. No wonder the goblins

had been so wary of it.

But his distraction caused him to wait too long. The

battering ram was almost upon him, unstoppable, and he

had no time to dodge it.

"No!" he cried. "It can't end like this!"

The ram set his hooves and skidded to a stop just as

he reached Grey. He was so close that his nose nudged

Grey's nose.

"Why, you're just an ordinary sheep," Grey said, pet-

ting the animal. "You don't mean me any harm, now that

the goblins are gone. Why don't you go off and graze?"

The ram nodded almost as if he understood, and com-

menced browsing on the adjacent foliage. No battering

ram at all!

Now at last it was safe to start down the path. Grey

proceeded.

It turned out to be a tricky descent, but manageable. He

saw the centaur's hoofprints, and now and then Ivy's, so

would have known he was on the right trail, had there been

any doubt. The face of the cliff was awesome, but the path

was secure, and he did not feel the fright of heights he

might have.

He wondered about that. He felt better, and had done

better than he ever would have expected. He had been cool

and poised throughout, and handled the goblins almost

perfectly. Ivy had said she would enhance him, and he did

seem enhanced—but could his love for her account for it?

And those pies—they had acted in ways real pies never

would have. Science would be strained to account for those

effects, but magic had no problem. As for that centaur-

how could anything but magic account for him? There was

such a thing as gene splicing, but it didn't work that way;

a man could not be grafted onto a horse. Not in this cen-

tury!

And of course there was the Gap Chasm he was now

climbing down into. He could not doubt its reality! But

how could he have come to it in the real world? If this

were a mere amusement park setting, how could there be

anything of this sheer scale?

Was he coming to believe in magic after all? Maybe he

was, because Ivy did, and he did love her. If she loved

him enough to marry him, he should love her enough to

share her belief. Maybe that didn't make much objective

sense, but it made a lot of emotional sense.

At last he made it down to the base of the chasm, as

afternoon was setting in. Where had Ivy and Donkey gone?

He knew the answer: Ivy had mounted Donkey, enhanced

him, and he had galloped off indefatigably to locate the

Gap Dragon. It might be a while before they found that

creature.

He looked around. The bottom of the chasm was like a

long, narrow valley, with green grass and a river crossing

it, from the stream they had followed above. He walked

to it and threw himself down for a drink. Beside it grew

some lady slipper plants, with an assortment of delicate

feminine slippers. Farther along was a potato chip bush.

Good—he was hungry, too. He sat down beside it and

started picking and eating the chips.

Magic? If this was magical, yes, he believed in magic.

Now at last he was tired. Whatever reserve of strength

he had drawn on was gone, and he needed to rest. He

leaned against a stone and relaxed.

His eye traced the short course of the river across the

valley cleft. It did not turn to run along the valley, but

continued on up the far cliff in a reverse waterfall, finally

disappearing over the top. That was nice; no sense in

flooding the Gap, in case there was no decent exit for the

water.

His eyes closed. He hoped Ivy and Donkey returned

soon. Certainly it was pointless to go looking for them;

he had to wait right here where they could find him.

Up the cliff? Suddenly he blinked awake, looking again

across the valley. Then he lurched to his feet and followed

the river across.

There was no doubt: the water made a right-angle turn

and sailed upwards in a geyser. It did not fall back to earth

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as a real geyser would; rather it seemed to slow as it neared

the top, and to curve, finding the brink and going beyond

it.

Grey shook his head. Now it was clear: he had better

believe in magic! Otherwise he would believe he was

crazy.

He returned to the rock near the potato chip bush and

settled down again. In a moment he was deep in a snooze.

He woke to the sound of a series of thuds that shook

the ground. Whomp, whomp, WHOMP! He jumped up,

alarmed; he didn't like the sound of that!

Something was definitely coming in the dusk. He saw

steam blowing upward in gusts. That must be the Gap

Dragon—but where was Ivy?

Then Donkey galloped up. "Here he is!" the centaur

cried, spying Grey.

Immediately the dragon veered. It had a horrendous big