Man From Mundania (67 page)

not going to let her go with him. What would become of

him, then, without either betrothed or parents, he did not

want to think about. But he knew it had to be. He i&fused

to be the agent of Xanth's degradation, no matter what it

cost him personally.

The castle was bleak and bare. The skeletons didn't

mind; they were pretty bare themselves. They set about

cleaning it out, and fixing separate chambers for the two

living folk. Soon nice soft beds were made, though the

skeletons really didn't see what was wrong with good old

fashioned cold stone. Similarly they renovated the kitchen,

knowing that living folk had a hang-up about eating reg-

ularly.

"But once we get it cleaned up, what else is there to

do?" Grey asked as they sorted through tumbled old vials

and set them neatly on the shelves. "And what's the point,

fixing up a castle for someone who isn't coming back to

it?" For they both knew that the Good Magician had no

intention of returning soon—if ever; this service was a

charade.

Ivy shook her head; she didn't know either. But at least

they were together, for this brief time.

They were hard at work sorting dusty tomes when there

was a disturbance outside. Marrow hurried in, rattling.

Grey and Ivy looked up in alarm, knowing it took a lot to

rattle the skeleton.

"A giant fire-breathing slug is charging the castle!"

Marrow reported.

They went to a parapet and looked. Sure enough, the

monster was steaming through the moat, causing the water

to boil where the fire touched. It was of course a slow

charge, for slugs were not rapid travelers, but powerful.

"We'd better flee!" Ivy said. "We can't stop something

like that."

"But surely part of my service is to protect the castle,"

Grey said. "I mean, even if I have to leave in a few days,

I might as well do the best I can while I'm here."

"But you can't even get close to that thing without get-

ting burned!" Ivy protested.

"It does seem uncertain of success," Marrow said.

"But Marrow can get close," Grey said. "Maybe the

slug is just lost. Marrow, would you be willing to ap-

proach it and ask what it wants? Can you speak its lan-

guage?"

"Only if it is from the gourd," Marrow said.

"If only Grundy Golem were here," Ivy said. "He can

speak any living language. If we just had some alternate

way to—" Then she brightened. "Maybe we do!"

"We do?"

"Remember the sign language? Let me see if that

works!" She had brought the book to the castle, in case

she had to return to Mundania, where she would be de-

pendent on this type of communication. Grey had not yet

been able to bring himself to tell her of his decision that

she had to remain in Xanth.

Now the slug was emerging from the moat and starting

up the outer wall. It was moving at a snail's pace, but

making definite progress.

Ivy leaned over the parapet. "Hey, sluggo!" she called,

waving her hands. "Can you understand this?" She made

the sign for "Hello": a gesture resembling the throwing

of a kiss with both hands. Grey was glad he understood

it, because otherwise he might have misunderstood it.

The slug paused looking up at her. Could it even see?

Grey wondered; it had no eyes, just antennae.

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312

Then the antennae moved. One extended while the other

retracted. In a moment they reversed motion.

"It's answering!" Ivy exclaimed. "It knows sign lan-

guage!"

"Ask it what it wants," Grey said, heartened.

"What," Ivy said, making the sign by drawing her right

index finger down across her flat left palm. "Want?" She

held her two hands as if clutching something, and drew

them in to her.

The slug's antennae lined up, then moved forward tcfe

gether with marvelous slow-motion dexterity.

"Answer," Ivy translated. She had picked up a mar-

velous facility for this type of communication in a short

time; Grey realized that she must have enhanced her own

learning ability for it. Except that she had been in Mun-

dania at the time, so her talent shouldn't have been oper-

ative. He would have to ask her about that.

She faced Grey: "It wants an Answer, but I don't

know—"

"An Answer!" Grey exclaimed. "It thinks the Good

Magician is back!"

Ivy grimaced. "I'll try to explain." She made the sign

for conversation—the tip of one index finger moving to-

ward the lips while the other moved from them, then re-

versing the motions.

The slug remained stuck to the wall, responding with

its antennae. After a fair dialogue. Ivy turned to Grey.

"I'm not getting through. I don't know all the terms, and

it isn't awfully bright. As near as I can tell, it wants to

attend a slugfest."

"Maybe that doesn't mean the same as it does in Mun-

dania," Grey said.

"I'm not sure what it means," she said. "But we'd

better tell the slug something, so that it will go away.

Otherwise it's apt to slime the castle, and its breath will

set fire to the curtains."

Grey pondered. "All right. Tell it to make up a bunch

of notices in slug-speak, and post them on trees and rocks

and things where big slugs go. The notices will say SLUG-

PEST, and give the time and place. Then any interested

Man from Mundania
       
313

slugs will go there at the proper time. But tell it to allow

a year or two, because slugs don't travel very fast."

"I'll try." Ivy got busy with her signals. After a time

the slug, satisfied, turned around and slid slowly back

through the steaming moat and away from the castle.

They returned to their tome sorting. But soon there was

another interruption. "A goblin is knocking at the door,"

Marrow reported.

"You mean pounding?" Grey asked, remembering the

nature of goblins,

"No, this is a constrained, polite knocking."

"It must be a trick," Ivy said. "Let him in, then pull

up the drawbridge so his henchmen can't charge after he

has opened the way."

In due course they met the goblin in one of the cleaned-

up chambers. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

Grey inquired gruffly.

"I am very sorry to disturb you, Good Magician, but

when I saw that you had returned—"

"Wait!" Grey said, embarrassed. "I'm not the Good

Magician! I'm Grey, just doing a service for him." In

addition, there was something odd about the goblin.

"I beg your pardon. Grey," the goblin said. "I am

Goody Goblin. If I may have an appointment, I shall re-

turn at a more convenient time."

Grey realized what was bothering him about this goblin.

He was being polite! "It's not that! The Good Magician

isn't here right now, and I'm not sure when—"

"I am certainly willing to accept an Answer from an

assistant," Goody said. "I realize that the Good Magician

has far more pressing concerns than the problem of a mere

goblin."

Grey was beginning to feel like a heel. "Uh, just what

is your problem. Goody?"

"I seem to be unpopular with my kindred. Since natu-

rally I would like to assume a posture of leadership, and

to win the favor of a pretty gobliness, I wish to be advised

of appropriate corrective action."

"Well, I'd certainly like to help you, but—" Then Grey

had a bright notion. "I think you need to have a fouler

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315

mouth. Most goblins I've met are obnoxious and violent.

If—"

"Oh, I couldn't be violent!" Goody protested. "That

would be unsocial."

"Well, maybe you wouldn't have to actually be violent,

if only you sounded violent. You could bluff your way

through. What you need is a really foul vocabulary."

"I would be glad to have it!" Goody agreed. "May I

purchase it from you?"

Grey glanced helplessly at Ivy. "No, I think you have

to learn it," she said. "But I think I know where you

can."

"That would be excellent!"

"Just a moment." She went to Marrow and whispered.

The skeleton departed, but returned in a moment with

something. Ivy set it on a chair. "Sit down," she told

Goody.

"Why thank you," the goblin said, taking the chair.

Because he was short-legged he had to jump up and land

on it. But the moment he landed, he sailed off again.

"^$*&£0!!" he exclaimed, causing the white curtains to

blush pink. Something flew from him and struck the wall

so hard it was embedded.

Grey caught on. She had put a curse burr on the chair!

"So you do know the terms," Ivy said, evidently sup-

pressing her own delicate blush, for it had been quite a

word the goblin had fired forth. "You just need to be

encouraged to use it."

"Go to the biggest, wildest curse burr patch you can

find, and sit down in the middle of it," Grey said. "I

guarantee that by the time you find your way out, you will

have the required vocabulary. Just make sure you remem-

ber the expressions that get you free. They can only be

used once against the curse burrs, but are infinitely reus-

able against goblins."