Yon Ill Wind (12 page)

The three pets exchanged glances.  “Tweet tweet,” Tweeter said doubtfully.

“But we might have?  At least we made it rougher for them by making a distraction when they're desperately busy?”

“Tweet.”

“Now I got it.  So is there any way we can help?”

“Tweet.”

 “By like maybe carrying things—say!  If we stepped out of accommodation, we'd be huge compared to them, and could carry a whole lot for them.  Then they'd get done in time.”

“Tweet.”

“I'll ask Dad.” This time there was no protest as he got up.  He went to the master bedroom and knocked on the door.  In a moment Dad opened it.  “What is it, Sean?”

“The pets told me:  the imps aren't going to get their stuff all moved in time, maybe because we delayed them.

We could maybe help them—”

“We'll inquire,” Dad said.  He stepped out, and they walked out of the suite and downstairs.  The pets came along.

There was no one there.  “They must be out working,” Sean said.  “And they never said a word to us.”

“We'll find them.” They went out the main door, and Dad 'took the magic lantern.  “We need to stay accommodated for this, I think.”

They had hardly started down the path before Quieta appeared.  Her apron was mussed and her hair coming loose, as if she had been hectically busy.  “Oh, I'm sorry! I must have neglected you,” she cried.  “What do you need?”

“We are concerned that we have delayed you at a critical time,” Dad said.  “Can we help you to do what you have to do, before we move on?” She shook her head.  “That is a very courteous thought. But though we could use your assistance, it would be at too great a cost.  You have just time to get clear of Xanth before the dust intensifies, if you start at dawn and do not stop.  I used the mirror to talk with the Good Magician, who is always correct.  You must not delay at all.  If you remained to help us, you would be caught, and then you would not be able to escape Xanth.  You might be trapped here a very long and bad time.  We would be terrible hosts if we let that happen.”

 “Maybe we could help now, at night, before dawn,” Sean suggested.

“No, I do not mean to disparage your effort, but you are Mundanes.  You would blunder in the dark, and be of no use.  Only by daylight could you help, and that is when you must be gone.”

Dad looked at Sean.  “I don't like this, but I think we had better depart on schedule.”

“I guess so,” Sean agreed reluctantly.  “The best thing we can do for these good folk is to get the bleep out of their way.”

Dad turned back to Quieta.  “We apologize for delaying you.  We shall depart at the crack of dawn.  Don't take any trouble for our breakfast or anything; we'll move out on our own.”

“Thank you,” she said.  “But there is food you can take. Woofer knows where it is.  I wish you well on your journey.” She turned and went back down the path.

“I feel like a heel,” Sean muttered.

“So do I,” Dad agreed.  “But it's the best we can do.”

They returned to the hotel.

Sean settled down on the couch again, and the pets settled on or around him.  He closed his eyes, and saw a mental picture of Chlorine wearing a filmy nightdress.  Now, if he could just get to sleep with her beside him …

Before dawn the parents were up and knocking on doors.

Sean never knew how they did it, but they were always alert when they needed to be.  Chlorine looked sleepy but still lovely, while Nimby looked the same as ever:  neutral.

While the others were blearily-getting washed and dressed, Dad started loading things into the RV and Mom went to the kitchen with Woofer to fetch the food left there for them.  Sean went from room to room and collected the used sheets for the laundry, trying to save Quieta that much effort.  He still felt guilty.

He took the pets out for a quick walk so they could do their business.  It was weird stepping out of the accommodation spell; suddenly they were all giants, beside the dollhouse hotel.  He took the pets on to the RV, knowing how important it was to have no delay for any reason.

Just before dawn they were all bundled into the vehicle, and Dad was starting the motor.  The imps were still hurrying around, doing their work.  Sean thought he saw Quieta, and waved to her, but wasn't sure she saw him.

She looked tired.

They drove back along the access road to the trollway.

Suddenly there was a loud ripping noise, and a jagged crack appeared in the dark sky, and the whole landscape lightened.  “What happened?” David cried, startled.

“Oh, that was the crack of dawn,” Chlorine said.  “To let in the light.  Sometimes it gets stuck on night, and the sun won't come up because it's afraid of the dark, so the shroud of night has to be cracked open.”

Even Karen evidently found that somewhat far-fetched, but it did seem to be the way it was in Xanth.

They broke out the food the imps had left them, which had made the accommodation change with them.  There was something for everyone, ranging from miraculously still-cold eye scream to dog biscuits.  Even in their absence, the imps were excellent hosts.

The drive quickly got tedious, so Sean took a hand and taught the others how to play poker for matchsticks.  Chlorine tended to let her cards show, as she did other things, which was part of her appeal; but mute Nimby turned out to be an unbluffable player.  He obviously knew which cards everyone else held.  Soon he had all the matchsticks, and the game lapsed.

“Did you notice that there were no women or children, other than Quieta?” Mom remarked from the front seat.

“I think they were already in the safe cave,” Chlorine said.  “All that was left were the men, finishing all they could.”

“Which isn't enough,” Sean said.  “They aren't going to make it on time before the dust of madness comes and spoils their remaining stones.”

110 PIERS ANTHONY

“They aren't?” Chlorine asked, concerned.  “How do you know?”

“The animals told me,” Sean said, petting Woofer.

“They talked to other animals.” Chlorine looked at Nimby, who nodded.

“Couldn't we help?” David asked, evincing a rare sign of social conscience.

“Not without being caught by it ourselves,” Sean said grimly.

“You mustn't do that,” Chlorine said quickly.  “I have to get you safely out of Xanth.”

“But the imps were real nice,” Karen said.  “We should have helped them.”

“But if it just got you caught for the madness, that would be as much harm as good,” Chlorine said.

“Yeah, I guess,” Karen agreed reluctantly.  Sean understood her feeling, because he shared it.

Time passed.  Sean got tired of looking out the window, and it was hard to look too much at Chlorine without being obvious, so he wound up snoozing as the others got into more solitaire, a game Nimby couldn't dominate as completely.

He woke when the RV turned off the main road.  He glanced at his watch.  Hours had passed, and it was now near the middle of the day.  “Are we leaving Xanth?” he asked, actually somewhat disappointed.

“Dad needs more gas,” Karen informed him.  “Sleepyhead.”

Sean looked out.  “Where are we?”

“Tall Hassle,” David said.

“Tallahassee?  That sounds familiar.”

“It isn't.  This is Xanth, remember?  Those are tall hassle trees out there.”

There were indeed some very tall trees.  “Tall Hassle,”

Sean agreed, not wanting to get into a hassle, tall or short, while Chlorine was watching.

“We are looking for a car pool, where there should be a cargo of gas at a carport,” Karen said, relishing the puns.

“ 'Cause there's no gas guzzler here.”

“Oh?  Who says.”

“Nimby says.”

That did seem to settle it.  Sean looked out to see if he could spot the car pool.

“There it is!” Karen cried, pointing.  She had the sharp blue eyes of innocent youth.

Sean looked.  There, indeed, it was:  a body of water in the shape of a huge car, rolling across the land on watery wheels.  “I should have known,” he muttered.

Dad honked the horn.  The car pool seemed to hear, because it rolled to a stop by the side of the road.  “Don't get out,” Dad warned.  “There may be danger.”

Nimby nodded.

Sure enough:  a giant tigerlike creature made of water came bounding toward them:  a car-nivore.  It loomed over the RV and tried to bite it, but its water teeth couldn't dent the metal.  It made a wet roar and bounded away again.

An old woman walked out of the water.  She was made of water too, but she had a certain car-isma, perhaps because of the water car-nation in her hair.  “I wouldn't give two cents for a tankful of gas,” Dad called, “but I would give one.”

“That's car-ma,” Karen said.

“I will take it,” the water woman said.  “My son will give it to you.” She turned and called “Toon!”

A garish water man waded out of the pool, followed by a shaggy little car-pet.  “Coming, Ma!” he burbled.  He brought out a big bottle of wine-colored liquid.

“And that must be the car-port,” Sean said.

Dad got out and unscrewed the gas cap, and Car-toon poured the liquid in.  Sean hoped this was really what they needed.  Suppose it wasn't gasoline, but wine?  Because port was a kind of wine.

It seemed to be okay, because the motor started up well enough.  But of course, there would still be some of the old gas-guzzler juice in the tank, so it was too soon to be sure.

“Thank you,” Dad called as he put the vehicle in motion.  Car-ma waved affably.

Then a huge shadow crossed their path.  Sean looked up—and saw a giant bird.  “A roc!” he cried.  “The monsters've caught up again.”

But Nimby wrote a note.  No.  That is a roc-ette.  They congregate in the tall hassle grove to practice their dancing.

“That explains everything,” Sean said sourly.

The big bird circled, peering down.  “I think she thinks we're going to molest her nest or something,” David said.

“She's eyeing us.”

Dad was concerned too.  “That bird is big enough to pick us up and dump us in the sea,” he said.  “How can we get away from her?”

Nimby wrote another note.  There is a B-have near.  The B's will dissuade her.

“Just show the way,” Dad said gamely.

Nimby went up front, exchanging places with Mom, so he could indicate the direction.  “I shall be quite glad to get out of this weird world,” Mom said.  “In Mundania all we have to worry about are thieves and muggers.” She smiled, to show this was in jest, to a degree.

“But what about the imps?” Karen asked.

Mom sighed.  “I confess, I do wish we had found some way to help them.  They were so kind to us, despite the extremity of their situation.”

They were approaching what looked like the world's biggest, fiercest hornet nest.  That would be the beehive.

Or B-have, as Nimby called it.

“Just what kind of creatures are these?” Dad asked warily.

“Oh, B's are all right, if you don't rile them,” Chlorine said.  “Their stings are mainly emotional.”

“I sure get emotional when I get stung,” Karen said.

Dad, evidently acting on Nimby's written advice, rolled down his window and addressed the big insects buzzing there.  “I B-held your nice hive, er, have, and B-lieve you can do something on my B-half, if you care to B-friend me.  Can I B-guile you to make the roc B-gone?” And he held out an old nylon comb.

The B's clustered about the comb.  This was evidently something new and exciting to them.  In a moment they picked it up and carried it into their have/hive.  They had accepted the offering.  Then another swarm formed into an arrow and shot up to intercept the roc wheeling above.  In a moment there was a loud squawk, and the bird zoomed away so swiftly as to leave a sonic boom behind.

Karen giggled.  “I guess that salted her tail.”

“B-nighted mission accomplished,” Sean said.  “That B-lies our concern about B's.” He glanced at Mom, who was known to be nervous about insects of most types.

Dad looped around and made his way back to the trollway.  “I am really getting to appreciate the protection of the beneficial spell on this road,” he remarked.  “Whenever we leave it, we get into trouble.”

“Except for the imps,” David reminded him.

“Except for the imps,” Dad agreed as they resumed speed.  “You know, we are now close to the boundary of Xanth; in a couple of hours we'll be clear of it, and back in the normal realm.  Yet I almost wonder—”

“We'll have to say good-bye to Chlorine,” Sean said, stricken by the realization.  “And Nimby,” he added, not wanting to be too obvious.

“Who have helped us as much as the imps did,” Mom added.

“Is anybody else thinking what I am?” Dad asked.

Sean was suddenly excited.  “Like—like maybe not leaving Xanth right now?”

“But we have to get home,” Mom protested.  “We're late already.”

“To school,” Karen said, making a wry face.

“To chores,” David said.

“To work,” Dad said.

 “To research,” Mom said.  “It occurs to me that though I love my work, researching archaic languages, there may be a unique chance for similar research here.  It may have escaped the notice of the rest of you, but we are no longer speaking English; we are speaking the universal magic language of Human Xanth, just as the pets are speaking the universal animal magic language of Animal Xanth.  Such an opportunity should perhaps not be passed by.”

Sean grinned.  “Mom always did have a problem communicating.  What she's trying to say is she'd just as soon stick around here awhile longer.”

“Yea!” Karen cried, clapping her little hands.

Dad glanced at Mom.  “When you give a scholarly rationale, you always have an underlying gut motive.  What is it?  Surely you aren't thrilled with meatier showers or harpy bombs.”

“It's the imps,” she confessed.  “They were so nice to us, and we may have imposed at the worst time.  I wish we could help them.”

“But we would get caught by the madness,” Sean reminded her, though he was as eager as any to remain in Xanth.  Mom required careful managing, as Dad knew; it wasn't safe to agree with her too quickly, lest she argue the opposite case in an attempt to be Quite Fair.

“Yes.  Yet it seems that all of Xanth faces that same threat.  Is it right for us to escape what they can't?”