The Color Of Her Panties (12 page)

Metria laughed.  “What an interesting way to put it!  But your talent is hardly that.”

“You know what my talent is?”

“Of course I know!”

“Will you tell me?” Ida asked eagerly.

“I might, if you asked.”

“What is my talent?”

“Then again, I might not.” The demoness faded out.

“I should have warned you,” Mela said.  “She likes to tease mortals.  She probably doesn't know your talent anyway.”

“You mean demons are like goblins?” Ida asked.  “You have to treat them discourteously?”

“Not exactly.  But they don't mean to do you any favors.

Metria isn't bad, as demons go; she merely is bored and likes to entertain herself by watching what mortals do.  But she has a problem finding the right word sometimes, and that gives her away.”

“I noticed.

Now Okra spoke.  “Why does the demoness think Ida is the most interesting person in Xanth?”

“I'm really not very interesting,” Ida said with maidenly modesty.

“She said it was because of her destiny,” Mela said, remembering.  “I must say that though Metria can be annoying, she does seem to tell the truth.  There must be something very special about Ida.”

“Maybe we'll find out when we reach the Good Magician's castle,” Okra said.

They continued on up the stream.  It was definitely slanting uphill now, the current was stronger, and the flecks of rust were thicker.

“Aren't you getting tired?” Ida asked the ogress.

“You've been doing all the rowing.”

“I suppose I am,” Okra agreed.  “I hadn't noticed until now.”

“Let's see if we can pull to the side, without falling out of the water,” Mela suggested.

They did so, cautiously, and were able to come safely to land.  They got out of the boat, and Okra lifted it out of the water and sat down to rest.  Mela and Ida went looking for food, and found some cupcakes for Ida and some watermelons for Mela.  But what would Okra like?  They saw some okra plants growing, and knew that their fruit would be perfect for the ogress.

As they ate, Ida saw a plant growing pretty red caps.

“One of those will be fine to protect my delicate hair from the sun,” she said.  She went and picked a cap and put it on, and it fit her perfectly.

Mela stretched.  “We should get moving,” she said.

“Who says?” Ida snapped angrily.

“Why, I just thought-”

“So don't think!” Then Ida went and kicked the boat, startling the ogress.  She was furious.

Mela stared at her a moment.  Then she sought her purse and brought out a little book.  She leafed through its pages.

“That's it!” she cried, finding her place.

“That's not it!” Ida snarled.

“What is?” Okra asked.

“It's a madcap,” the merwoman said.

“Stop insulting me!” Ida screamed.

“Please take off that cap.”

“I will not!”

But Okra, behind her, reached out and lifted the cap from her head.

Ida was immediately appalled.  “What was I saying?”

“It wasn't you,” Mela explained.  “You happened to pick a madcap.  See, here it is in my manual.  The moment you put it on, it made you mad.”

“Oh.“ Ida felt herself blushing.  “I would never act like that.  I mean-”

“I knew something was wrong, and since the cap was the last thing that changed, I checked it.  It wasn't your fault.”

“Oh, throw that awful thing away!”

But Okra considered.  “It might be useful sometime.

She folded it and tucked it into a pocket.  That startled Ida, because she hadn't known the ogress had any pockets, since she wasn't wearing anything.

They put the boat back in the invisible river and climbed in.  Okra, rested, rowed it more swiftly upstream.  Ida could only marvel at the girl's strength.  But of course that was the ogre's talent.  Ogres were strong, ugly, and stupid, and it seemed Okra had one of those traits.

They came to another lake.  This one was smaller than the last, with a smooth surface on which little footprints showed.  “I'd better check this,” Mela said, getting out her manual.  In a moment she had it:  “This must be Lake Wails.  We had better portage around it.”

“Why?” Ida asked.

Then a huge creature appeared, running along the surface of the water, wailing.  “Because we don't want to run afoul of the wails,” Mela said.

“I understand they get very upset if their prints are erased.”

“The prints of wails?”

“That's right.  They are unhappy enough as it is.”

Ida had to agree.  So they got out of the boat and walked around the lake.  At one point they encountered a multiheaded serpent.  “Hello, serpent,” Ida greeted it.  But the thing only hissed several times at her simultaneously.

She realized that Mela had been right:  she couldn't talk to monsters.

However, she doubted that the serpent had anything to say that she really wanted to hear.

They found the river on the far side of the lake, and resumed their travel.

Then the tip of the Iron Mountain came into sight.  It was solid metal, poking high into the sky.  The closer they came, the larger it loomed, until it towered above them.  The river did flow from it, but not gently; it issued from a coiled spring in the side and plummeted through a waterfall.

They parked the boat and started up the mountain.  the way was steep, but there were iron steps and on it-a guardrail, so it was all right.

It seemed that they were not the first to come here.

But when they were halfway up, walking along an -on ramp with a sheer cliff above and below, a dragon appeared in the sky.  Ida looked, and her worst fear was realized.  “That's Dragoman, the dragon who crystallized me!

“Well, we can't let him take you again,” Mela said.

“But we're helpless here!  He can pick us all off, and probably will.”

Her fear was growing into a deadly certainty.

“No, he won't,” Okra said.

“He won't?”

“He won't?” Mela echoed.

“Trust me.”

So Ida trusted her, since she had been asked to.  Her deadly certainty faded back into weak-kneed uncertainty.

There must be something Okra could do to dissuade the dragon from its fell purpose.  Otherwise she would not be so confident.

The dragon gave a harsh cry and swooped down at them, its dread talons extended.  Ida did not understand what he was saying, but she could guess.  He was angry that she had gotten away from his showcase.

Okra fished out the madcap and put it on.  She scowled.

Then as the dragon made a grab for Ida, Okra made a ham fist and swung it furiously.  It bashed the dragon on one leg and sent it spinning out of control.

“Oh, lovely!“ Mela breathed.  “If there's one thing that can stand off a dragon, it's a mad ogre.”

So it seemed.  But the dragon had not yet caught on that one of the three maidens was an ogress.  He righted himself and came diving in again.

This time Okra didn't bash his foot, she made a swipe with her ham hand and caught it in an ogre grip.  She hauled the dragon in.  Then she bashed him in the snoot with her other ham fist.  “Don't fool with us, bezoarbreath!” she roared, and hurled him away.

Now at last he caught on.  He pulled out of his tailspin and circled, out of sorts.

Then he reoriented and came in again.  He might be up against an ogress, but after all, he was a dragon, and she was a rather puny example of her kind.  He looked as if he had something new in mind.  He opened his mouth.

“He's going to crystallize us!” Ida screamed.  “Don't let that vapor touch us!” Of course it seemed doubtful that they could stop the dragon from breathing on them, but Okra had said to trust her, so Ida did.

The dragon loomed close.  A jet of vapor came out.

Okra opened her own mouth and breathed back at the dragon.  There was an awful stink.

The dragon's breath and the ogre breath collided.  They formed into the ugliest crystalline cloud imaginable.  Then the crystal melted and dropped like the foul stone it was.  The ogre breath had nullified it.

The dragon took a look at this, shrugged, and flew away.

His worst weapon had been thwarted, so he was doing the sensible thing and retreating.

Okra turned toward the two of them.  Her face was swollen and horrible.

She inhaled.

“Take off the cap!” Mela and Ida screamed together.

Snarling, Okra swept off the cap.  Then she looked appalled.  Ida knew exactly how she felt.  “You did wonderfully!” she said.  “You got rid of the dragon and saved us all from a fate worse than-well, I don't know what it's worse than, but I'm glad you saved us.”

“I guess I did,” Okra said.  “I've never been ogre-mad before, but it seemed to be a good time for it.”

“It certainly was,” Mela agreed warmly.

Then they resumed their trek up the mountain.  Ida thought about what had just happened.  It seemed to her that Okra had a reasonable chance to achieve her dream of becoming a major character.  She had certainly acted like one.

Jenny was still shaken by the revelation of the content of the secret of the Adult Conspiracy.  But there was no time to ponder that, because the way was open and she had a Question to ask the Good Magician.

Sammy Cat was already bounding into the main part of the castle.

Actually, she had been here once before, but that was almost like a dream, and the castle had looked different.

So it was just as unfamiliar now to her as it was to her friends.

A young woman appeared.  She had long fair hair with a tinge of green.

“Princess Ivy!” Jenny exclaimed.  She had met Ivy at the wedding of Prince Dolph and Electra.

Ivy hugged them all, then ushered them into the main chamber where Magician Grey sat.  “You're just in time for lunch,” Ivy said brightly.

Jenny started to protest, but realized that she was hungry, and the others surely were too.  Sammy had already found the dish of milk that must have been set out for him.

So they joined Grey at the table.  He was nondescript, and not at all like Jenny's impression of someone from Mundania.  But of course she had never been to Mundania, so couldn't judge the dull folk there.

“Didn't I see you here before?” Grey asked Jenny.

“Yes.  When I came to ask the Good Magician how to return to the World of Two Moons.” Jenny laughed.  “It happened to be Portrait day, and all five and a half of the Good Magician's wives were here for the occasion.

They were all beautiful; I think each one was prettier than the others.

But then I changed my mind, and decided to stay in Xanth for a while longer.”

“You have friends here,” Ivy said.

“Yes.” That counted for a great deal.

A maid brought in a huge shoefly pie, and served them each a slice.

Jenny was glad to discover that the shoes were really pastry in the form of footwear, and their little wings were leaves of lettuce.

“We expected three challenges,” Gwenny remarked.

“We were surprised.”

“One might even say dismayed,” Che added.

“Here in Xanth, so much is made of the Adult Conspiracy,” Jenny said.

All three of them waited expectantly.

“We were surprised too,” Ivy said.  “But the Good Magician Humfrey always knows what he's doing.  He said you had to be inducted into the Conspiracy, or he wouldn't be able to help you.”

“But we have such a simple Question!” Jenny protested.  “I'll ask it, but it's for Gwenny.  It has nothing to do with-”

“When he answers it, you won't be able to benefit unless you belong to the Conspiracy,” Grey said.  “I thought it was strange, though things are more confused in Mundania and I'm not sure I agree with the Conspiracy any more than you do.  But it seems that Gwenny must belong, and since you three are working together, you all must know.  Humfrey said he wouldn't have done it if the matter weren't so important.

There's no telling what having this early knowledge may do to you.  But the alternative is to deny you, Gwendolyn, your chance to be chief of Goblin Mountain, and that was unacceptable.”

“I suppose it would be hard to be chief without knowing such things,” Gwenny said distastefully as the maid brought dessert, eye scream sandwiches.

Jenny changed the subject.  “Which wife does Magician Humfrey have now?”

Ivy laughed.  “She's right here!  Didn't you realize?”

Jenny accepted her sandwich from the maid.  She peered at it, and its big green eye peered back at her.  She wondered whether it would scream as she ate it.  “No, I didn't see her.”

Sammy was rubbing against the maid's leg.

“The maid!” Che exclaimed, catching on.

The features of the maid changed.  Her drab dress became bright, and her body turned buxom.  Now Jenny recognized her as one of the beautiful Portrait brides.  She could of course assume any likeness, so was as lovely as she chose to be.  Jenny realized that this was probably an asset in a marriage.  “Dana Demoness!  I didn't know you in costume!”

“You didn't recognize me as the Adult, either,” the creature murmured.

“Ooooo, so I didn't!”

Gwenny squinted at the demoness.  “How can Humfrey trust you, if you don't have a soul?”

“Demons can be trusted to do what suits them.  My husband knows that when I had a soul, I loved him, and I made him ludicrously happy, and gave him a son.  When I lost my soul I left him, and then I was horribly bored.

Now for a month things are interesting again.  If I act soullessly, I will instantly lose my place to the next wife on the roster.  So I act just as if I have a soul, for the sake of the game.”

“You had a son?” Che asked.

“Dafrey Half-Demon.  That was back in nine hundred fifty-four, a hundred and thirty-seven years ago.  He grew up and married in the normal human manner, and had a son of his own, and bzzzzt!  he was gone, having passed the soul on to his offspring.  I lost track of him after that.”

“Nine hundred fifty-four?” Jenny asked.  “That's a date?

“That's a date,” Che assured her.  “Don't you remember our history lessons?  The year is now one thousand ninety-one, dating from the onset of the First Wave of human colonists in Xanth.”

“I guess I wasn't paying attention,” Jenny confessed. “All those numbers-I never did get along well with numbers.”

“Perhaps you will learn to count the days of your year working for my husband,” Dana said.

“Maybe I will.” For Jenny really did not relish that upcoming year.  She would much prefer to remain with Che and Gwenny and the centaurs.  But she would do what she had to do.

“Speaking of which,” Ivy said, “it's time for your appointment.”

Jenny got up.  “Can-can the others come too?”

“Yes.  But they can't ask Questions.”

They followed Ivy up a winding stone staircase to a crowded little chamber.  There sat the gnomelike Good Magician before a monstrous tome.

He looked at least a hundred years old, though Jenny knew that he had youth elixir to make him as young as he chose to be.  Apparently he liked this age.

Humfrey looked up.  “Well?” he said grumpily.

“Ask him,” Ivy whispered.

“Wh-where can we find a pair of contact lenses for Gwendolyn Goblin to wear, so she can-”

He probably frowned, though his face was so set and lined that it was hard to be sure.  “There is only one pair available, and they are problematical.”

“We-she has to have them, because-”

“In three respects.  First, there is danger in their vicinity.”

“But there is danger if she doesn't have them!”

“Second, they are in the realm of dreams.”

“In the gourd?  But-”

“They are intended for use by vision-impaired night mares.  Herein lies the third problem.  They will enable the wearer to see dreams, as the night mares do.”

“But that's not a problem,” Jenny started.  Then she had a second thought.  “Bad dreams?”

“All dreams.  Including those in violation of the Adult Conspiracy.”

“Oh!” Gwenny exclaimed behind her.

Now it made sense.  Gwenny could not use those lenses unless she was in the Conspiracy.  Anticipating this, the Good Magician had inducted her into it, distressing details and all.  He had had to finesse it in a couple of ways, because he would have been in trouble if he had violated the Conspiracy by simply telling her.  In fact, he had told her nothing, he had assigned the job to Dana Demoness, whose lack of a soul and conscience had enabled her to force the children to assume part of the dread mantle of Adulthood.

“I will give you instructions so that you can enter the realm of the gourd and locate the lenses,” Humfrey said.

“Even so, you will find it difficult.  The winged monsters will not be able to protect you there.”

“We'll do what we have to do,” Gwenny said.  “Thank you, Good Magician.”

Jenny turned to her, feeling sad.  “I wish I could go with you.  But now I have to serve the Magician.”

“Not till you help her get the lenses,” Humfrey said.

“Your year commences after the completion of your mission.

“Oh, thank you, Good Magician!” Jenny exclaimed, delighted.

“The route to the lens bush will be marked by mock lenses,” Humfrey continued gruffly.  “See that you do not lose the way, because they will fade out after you pass them.  You must find them within one day, because after that we shall have to rouse you.”

“Rouse us?” Jenny asked.

“We won't go physically into the gourd,” Che explained.  “We'll look in peepholes.  When someone outside interferes with our line of sight to the peephole, we emerge.

“But why only a day?” Gwenny asked.  “It might take longer.

“Because I promised your mother and Che's dam, who spoke also for Jenny Elf.

The three exchanged a look which was a good glance and-a-half long.  So the parents had known about this!  But it could not be helped; it was the only way.

“I will show you to the gourds,” Ivy said.

Jenny looked again at the Good Magician, but he had already returned to the tome, having forgotten them.

Ivy had set up a pile of pillows for them to lie on.  There were four greenish gourds, their peepholes covered over with tape.  They got comfortable, then linked hands.  Jenny, held on to Sammy's paw.  They had to be touching when they entered, or they would find themselves in different settings.  Ivy checked the alignments, making sure that each of their heads were braced right before the peepholes.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

They agreed they were ready.  Jenny tried to conceal her apprehension, she had never done this before, and dreaded it.  But she wouldn't leave her friends to face it alone, now that the Good Magician had given her the chance to be with them.  At the same time, she was afraid it wouldn't work.  What kind of sense did it make to enter into a growing gourd, without one's body?

Ivy pulled the tape from Gwenny's gourd.  Gwenny looked, and froze, fascinated.  Then Ivy did the same for Che's gourd, and Che also froze.

Finally she came to Jenny's gourd.  Just then Jenny had a perilous thought:  how could dream lenses do the physical Gwenny any good. Surely they would be left in the dream realm when Gwenny woke.  All this might be for nothing!  She opened her mouth to say something to Ivy.

But as she did so, her eye saw the exposed peephole and she found herself in a chamber with a flat floor and a deep drop-off ahead.  Alarmed, she stepped back, and banged into Che.  Then she saw Sammy pop into existence beside her.

“We're all here,” Gwenny said, sounding relieved.  “I was so nervous when I arrived here alone, but then Che appeared, but then it seemed like forever before you came.”

Jenny decided not to voice her doubt.  What was the point, at this stage?  She would just have to hope that the Good Magician had taken this into account, and that the lenses would work in the real world as well as in the gourd.  After all, the night mares operated outside the gourd; that was where they needed to see the dreams they brought, to be sure they were working properly.

“All three of us,” Che agreed, also sounding relieved.

Jenny remembered that however mature he might seem, because he was a centaur, he remained only his real age of seven emotionally.

Suddenly there was a crowd of people in the chamber.

Jenny stared.  They weren't just any people; they were Gwenny and Che.

Three of each.  And two others-who she realized were elves.  Jenny Elves!  There were three of her, too!  And three cats.

They exchanged a nine-way glance.  Then one of the Gwennys blinked.  “I'm looking twice, but I still-”

“See another me,” a new Gwenny exclaimed, chiming in.  Now there were four Gwennys.

“I'm looking tw-” Jenny started.  But before she could finish saying “twice too,” one Che interrupted her.

“Don't say any more!” he cried.  “This is a multiplication table!“

Jenny shut her mouth.  She had never trusted multiplication tables indeed, the whole subject of math was somewhat alien to her.  But she had not thought that it worked quite this way.  She could see that the two other Jennys and all three Sammy Cats were just as confused.

“Look,” another Che added, pointing to the drop-off.

“That is the edge of the table.  See the corners, and the other sides.”

The three Jennys looked, and sure enough, it was one big table, of the scale that would have been suitable for the huge Adult in the Good Magician's castle.  Now she saw that there were markings on it:  numbers along the edges, and numbers in the center.  That much she understood:

the numbers in the center represented the results of the numbers at the edges.  She could never remember whether six times seven had a sum or a product or a total, or whether that result was supposed to be thirty-six, or forty, or forty-two, or maybe forty-five.  Probably none of the above.  As far as she was concerned, the world would be a better place if numbers just went away.  The very last place she wanted to be was in the middle of a multiplication table.

And maybe that was the point of it:  this was her dream.  This was the place of the night mares, after all.

“Whenever we speak a number, it multiplies us by that number,” the third Che concluded.  “When I said-what I first said-it multiplied us by that number.  When Gwenny said what she said, it multiplied her by that number.  I had said ‘all' so it multiplied us all, she said.  “I' so it multiplied only her.  Now we have a problem.”

The four Gwennys and three Jennys nodded, afraid to say anything.  The problem was that there were too many of them.

“I suspect that each of us feels that he or she is the original person,” the first Che began carefully.

“And not one of us wishes to give up his individuality,” the second continued.  “The word 'one' is probably safe to use, because the multiplication leaves that person unchanged.”

“Yet it is surely necessary to revert to our original states before proceeding farther into this region,” the third concluded.

The seven girls nodded, still afraid to speak, because none of them had the centaur's brains.

“Perhaps if we perform an act of division-” the first Che started.

“But this is a multiplication table!” one Gwenny said.