Cube Route (15 page)

    “You're welcome.”

    Then the thread veered to the right, avoiding the centaur village. “Uh, it's been very nice meeting you,” Cube said. “And I really appreciate the way you saved me from the Peace Forest. And the nice dress. But I'm not going to the centaur village. So I have to leave you now.”

    She was afraid they would ask where she was going, but they didn't. “That's fine,” Tala said. “I have to fly now myself. Farewell, girls!” She spread her wings and took off.

    “And farewell from me,” Cube said.

    “If you happen to pass the North Village, look us up,” Oceanna said.

    “Perhaps I will. I don't know whether it's on my route.”

    The two walked on toward the centaur village, while Cube and Diamond followed the thread east. It led to an enchanted path, and followed it to a camping site. Relieved, she settled in for the evening. She wasn't sure whether she had lost more than a day in the Peace Forest, but she wasn't on a fixed schedule. She and Diamond ate from the convenient pie tree, washed up, and prepared to sleep. She brought out the original water ball Ryver had given her and gazed into it reflectively. This ball survived, while the other he had tossed her had not. So he could do different types of balls.

    Then Diamond's ears perked. She heard someone coming. Cube wasn't sure how she felt about that; she had met a number of nice people, but that wasn't guaranteed. She put away the ball, not caring to explain it to strangers.

    It turned out to be a man and a woman of adult age. He had blond hair and golden eyes; she had aluminum hair and silver eyes. They turned in to the camp; they obviously planned to spend the night.

    “Hello,” Cube said. “I'm Cube, traveling generally north.”

    “I'm Trans Mitter,” the blond man said. “This is my companion Ann Tenna. I can send message by projecting my image, and she can hear things from afar, when she focuses. So we work well together.”

    “I can imagine,” Cube said. “My talent is summoning nickelpedes.”

    “No need of those here,” Trans said.

    “No need,” Cube agreed.

    They chatted amicably, then slept. Cube was glad there had been no problem. So far she had made it fairly well on her own. Still, there had been nervous occasions, such as the troll on the trolley, the Gap Dragon, and the Peace Forest. She had been lucky, but luck was fickle. She needed to do better at staying out of trouble.

    In the morning Trans and Ann went their way, and Cube went hers, following the thread. Which now followed the path back the way it had come, west. Then north, toward the centaur village. Apparently it had made a detour to take her to the campsite. It seemed almost aware of her, which was strange. The Princesses had not said anything about that, and perhaps didn't know. Magic could have funny aspects.

    She walked through the village, seeing the centaurs but not approaching any. They glanced at her only briefly, not noticing her any more than most men did.

    The thread followed the enchanted path on north. Cube was glad of that, because it meant she would face no awkward problems. She marveled again at the virtuosity of the thread, showing her along a route that a person could follow, even if it didn't always seem so at a given moment. It was as if it had been spun from the future, after the Quest was done, so knew where she had been, and marked that route. Maybe if the Quest had been for Ryver, there would have been a Ryver Route, going to different places, or a Princess Route for the three, or even a Drek Route for the dragon. But it was the Cube Route. Maybe after this was done, and she had her beauty and her man, if she got bored (but how could beauty ever be bored?) she would make a study of magic threads and try to discover how they flowed. This might be the Cube Route, but it was probably also influenced by her Companions. A perfect route would be a straight line, while one with too many people would be distorted, yet have its relevance. As this one did.

    All this walking was a bit tiring, but also invigorating. Cube had never liked to think of herself as chubby, but others had called her that; now she felt her body redistributing flesh to make more muscles for walking and less fat to carry. It would not make her beautiful, because she lacked the bones and the skin and the features, but it would make her healthy, and that was worth something. The journey was also taking her to new places, and she was glad to see them; it was evident that she did not know enough about Xanth, but could learn by seeing it.

    Still, around midday she was ready to rest, so she sat on a convenient bench and got the weight off her feet. Diamond seemed satisfied to get off her feet too. “You're good company,” Cube told her, patting her head. “You don't complain, you don't rush ahead or drag behind, you don't criticize my decisions.” The dog's tail wagged.

    Someone approached from the north. It was another woman, reasonably good looking. Cube's route seemed to be strewn with women who looked better than she ever had. “Oh, a bench,” the woman said. “Just when I needed one. May I join you?”

    “Of course,” Cube said. She was about ready for human company, though a handsome and attentive man would have been better. “The enchanted paths seem to have facilities where they are needed, in contrast to the others.”

    “Which are the opposite,” the woman agreed, laughing ruefully as she sat down. “And you have a Mundane dog. How nice.”

    “This is Diamond. She's not mine; we're just keeping company for now. When she finds a place she likes, perhaps she'll stay there.”

    “That must be true for all of us.”

    Now Cube laughed, recognizing the truth of that. “I am Cube, on a private mission. My talent is to summon nickelpedes, but I don't do it unless there is need.”

    “I am Polly Graff. My talent is to detect lies.”

    “That must be useful.”

    “Sometimes. Not in this case; you haven't tried to lie to me.”

    “I'm not very good at it. The best I can do is to keep my thoughts mostly to myself.”

    “What did you think when you saw me coming?”

    “Oh, that's not relevant.”

    “Yes it is. I'm trying to find out how well you lie.”

    Cube suppressed a sigh. “I half wished you were a man who would pay attention to me, instead of being yet another woman prettier than I am.”

    “You're right: you can't tell a lie. But you know, beauty isn't necessarily what you think.”

    “I think all my problems would be solved if I were beautiful.”

    “You do think that, but I just met a woman who would, if you'll excuse the expression, give the lie to that.”

    This was interesting. “A beautiful woman with problems?”

    “I think so.”

    “But shouldn't you know so, since she couldn't lie to you?”

    “Not in this case. She's a ghost.”

    “A ghost!”

    “A lovely ghost. She has either just killed herself, or is about to.”

    This was more than interesting. “How could a beautiful woman ever want to die? She should be completely happy.”

    “I don't know. But I can tell you where she is. Maybe you can ask her.”

    “I'd like to, but--” Cube didn't want to say that she had to stick to the Route marked by the thread.

    “She's in an inn south of the North Village. Right in your path, if you're going north. You'll arrive there around nightfall. That's where I stayed last night. The innkeeper tried to tell me all his rooms were taken, but I knew he was lying, and made him give me the one empty one. Then I found out why he was hiding it: because if others learned of the ghost, suddenly he'd have all his rooms empty. I saw the ghost, and felt her horrible unhappiness, but I couldn't learn more because my talent works on the living, not the dead. But you--you might have the inclination to get to know her, and find out who she is and what's the matter.”

    “Yes. I'm as wary of ghosts as the next person, but the mystery of a lovely woman who wants to die fascinates me. I'll check on her, if I possibly can.”

    “That's nice.”

    “But suppose I talk to her, and she lies to me? I don't have your talent.”

    Polly smiled. “I have discovered that often I don't actually need my talent. I can tell when a person is lying without it. Then I use it just to verify. Usually I am right. It's a kind of private game.”

    “How can you tell?”

    “Well, an amateur liar will fidget. He'll avoid your gaze. There's a certain hollow sound when he talks.”

    “What about a professional liar?”

    “He'll show none of those things. He'll be so smooth that you just naturally believe him. That's when you have to be wary: never believe a person just because he is convincing.”

    “But that means I can't believe either the clumsy ones or the smooth ones.”

    “That's right. Most folk are in between, and you can mostly trust them. It's the extremes that you must doubt.”

    “That may be too complicated for me.”

    “Well, it takes time to develop the touch. But give it a try; you might be surprised.”

    “Maybe I will.”

    “And pick up on the signals the dog gives. Dogs can smell lies. If you see her tail drop, beware.”

    “I'll do that.”

    “Well, I have to move on now, if I am to reach the centaur village by nightfall.” Polly stood.

    Cube stood too. “Same for me, going the other way. I left the centaur village this morning.”

    “Farewell.”

    “Same to you.”

    They parted, and Cube followed the thread north. “Was she right?” she asked.

    Diamond's tail was high. That was encouraging.

    By evening she saw the inn, and not only did the thread lead to it, it went inside. Could the ghost woman be part of her route? Ordinarily such a prospect would disturb her, but now she hoped for it.

    She entered the inn. The innkeeper met her at the door. “Sorry, we're full,” he said hollowly, fidgeting and looking away.

    Cube glanced at Diamond. Her tail was low.

    “What about the room with the ghost?” she demanded.

    The man looked as if he had swallowed a bad prune. “Don't blab about that!”

    “I won't,” Cube promised truthfully.

    The man became cunning, now that he had secured his secret. “What do you have in trade?”

    “I can work for my board,” Cube said. She was tired, but she knew inns were not free. “For me and the dog.”

    “Go to the kitchen. Do what the cook says. She'll show you the room when you're done.”

    “Done,” Cube agreed. It was a fair bargain, considering.

    The cook was a cheerful fat woman with a direct gaze and no fidgeting. “Good to have help. Here's food for you and the dog. Then you'll have to wash the pots and sweep the floor.”

    The food was good, the pots were greasy, and the floor was filthy. Cube did the best job she could, though she was really tired by the time it all was done. Diamond sniffed out a rat and growled it out of the kitchen, pleasing the cook. Then the cook showed her to the room. “You know it's haunted? The ghost won't hurt you, but she's sort of spooky.”

    “I know,” Cube said. “We'll get along.” She opened the door, and she and Diamond stepped into the room.

Exchange

    The ghost stood in the center of the chamber, facing them. She possessed unearthly beauty of face and form, and her dress was elegant. But tears streaked her classic face.

    Cube suffered half a welter of emotions. She didn't know what to do. But Diamond didn't hesitate; she went up to the ghost.

    “A dohg,” the ghost said, surprised. She reached down to pat Diamond. Her delicate hand passed through the dog's head, but Diamond wagged her tail.

    “Her name is Diamond,” Cube said, seizing this opening. “Mine is Cube. We'd like to stay the night here, if it's all right with you.”

    “I'm so lohnely,” the ghost said. Then she focused a little better. “Yes, if you wish. I have no escape. I am Silhouette.”

    Cube walked carefully around the ghost and sat on the bed. She was tired and wanted to clean up and sleep, but this ghost woman fascinated her. Certainly she was well named; her figure was so shapely as to make any man who even heard about it drool. “Silhouette, are you alive or dead?”

    “My body is alive, for now. My soul is dead.”

    “I don't understand.”

    “It is a long and dreary story. I took poison, but am not yet dead. I'm in a coma, and my soul is free to roam. But I have no way to leave this room, for this is where my body lies in my world.”

    “Your world?”

    “I believe the last visitor called it Mundania. I gather this is an imaginary fantasy world, while my own is reality. So my spirit is in my imagination.”

    “This is Xanth,” Cube said. “It is a magic place, and next to it is Mundania, where there is little or no magic. I am a traveler in Xanth.”

    “I think I'd like to travel in a fantasy realm,” Silhouette said. “It would be so much nicer than what I know.”

    “You wouldn't want to exchange places with me,” Cube said.

    “Oh, but I would, if you can range freely amidst magic.”

    “But you're beautiful! How can you be unhappy?”

    “How can I be otherwise? Appearance is nothing; my beauty has merely sealed my fate. You are far better off.”

    “Look at me! I am as plain as you are beautiful. My most ardent desire is to be beautiful.”

    “But you are free! That is what counts.”

    “How can I be free in a body like this? I can't get a man to look at me, let alone romance me. But if I were beautiful, I could be happy.”

    Silhouette gazed at her. “I wish we could exchange, so that you could discover what my life is like, and I could have the pleasure of yours.”

    “I wish so too! But--” Cube broke off, noticing something. The thread had led her to this inn and this room, but it hardly quit there. It went to Silhouette and stopped. It did not lead out of the room.

    “You look as if you see a ghost,” Silhouette said with sad humor. “Are you all right?”

    “I think something--there is something--you may find this hard to believe, but--but maybe we are meant to exchange.”

    The woman shook her head. “I spoke foolishly. Even were it possible, I wouldn't care to do that to you. I am dying, and even if by some mischance I survive this siege, my life is not worth living. You would be locked in misery.”

    But the idea had taken hold. “Maybe. Silhouette, can you keep a secret?”

    “I can do nothing else. It is the hard truths that should be revealed that are beyond me.”

    “I mean, if I tell you a secret, will you keep it?”

    Silhouette met her gaze. She did not fidget, and her voice was firm. “Of course.”

    “I want to explain my business, so you can understand why I think we may need to exchange, at least for a while. Maybe just our souls. But you need to know what you would be getting into.”

    Silhouette laughed. “WhatI would be getting into! If you took my identity, you would be getting into hell!”

    Still no sign of lying. She meant it. “Hell?”

    “It is mostly of my own making, I confess. I simply lack the gumption to do what I know needs doing.”

    Something electric ran through Cube. “Gumption?”

    “I am not a strong person. Until two years ago I never needed to be strong. My beauty and wealth safeguarded me, and so did my strong father. But when my father died, the vultures closed in. My aunt, my accountant, my boyfriend--”

    “Vultures?”

    “Oh, yes! They are feeding on my flesh and picking my bones, and I can't stand it, but neither can I stand up to them. So all I can do is escape by dying.”

    “But if you had--gumption--you could deal with them?”

    Silhouette nodded. “Yes, I know exactly what is needed, if I just had the nerve to do it. But I don't, and they know it.”

    This aspect of Cube's mission was taking shape. “Then let me tell you my story, and you tell me yours, and we'll see.”

    “We'll see,” Silhouette agreed.

    They talked for two hours. Cube told of her secret mission, and the thread she followed, and how it led to Silhouette, even when she walked around the room. Then Silhouette told her of the horror of her own existence, and Cube realized that she had not been exaggerating. A beautiful woman could indeed be miserable.

    But there were other aspects to consider. “You can't just walk around Xanth on your own,” Cube said, “without knowing anything about it. There are many dangers we natives don't even think about; we just avoid them. You will need guidance and protection.”

    “Will your dog accompany me? She's a nice black Labrador, a good breed.”

    “I think so. But she's Mundane too; maybe she's staying with me so she won't get in more trouble in Xanth. I was thinking of more formidable assistance.”

    Silhouette shrugged. “Considering that I hardly care whether I live or die, anything should be sufficient.”

    “But you'll be living or dying in my body,” Cube said. “I don't want anything bad to happen to it.”

    “Oh, of course. I apologize; I wasn't thinking. I've never been very good at thinking.”

    “Who told you that?”

    “My domineering aunt, who runs our household since my father's death. She is surely correct.”

    Cube had not noticed any problem with Silhouette's mind, but saw that her self-esteem was even lower than Cube's own, if for a rather different reason. So she didn't argue the case. “I was thinking of a demoness.”

    Silhouette smiled. “You did mention something of the sort. You said this is a magic land.”

    She didn't truly believe. “Observe.” Cube put her hand in the pouch. “Metria.”

    The demoness slid out. She looked at Silhouette, who stepped back nervously. “Well now! You're the prettiest ghost I've seen.”

    “And you are the most alluring demoness I have encountered,” Silhouette said faintly. “I hope you're not going to do anything awful to me.”

    “The ghost is Silhouette Mundane,” Cube said. “The demoness is D. Metria. Now you have been introduced.”

    “We have,” Metria agreed, assuming the form of the ghost. “So why did you haul me out?”

    “I think Silhouette and I are going to exchange places for a while. That is, my soul will go with her body, and her soul will be with mine. She would like to explore Xanth, but won't know much about it. I want you to stay with her, invisibly, and protect her from mischief.”

    The demoness considered. “The thread is sending you to Mundania?”

    “It seems to being doing that, yes. It leads directly to Silhouette.”

    “Remember, there's no magic there. I've been there; you wouldn't like it. I remember when Willow Elf got together with Sean Mundane. She thought love would be enough, but she was isolated in a realm without magic. She didn't even speak their language. She got depressed. They finally had to move back to Xanth. Sean loved her, and of course Xanth is so much better than Mundania anyway, so it worked out. But you could get stuck there with no way to return.”

    “If the thread sends me there, I'll go there,” Cube said. “When it brings me back, I'll return.”

    “If you return. If anything happens--if you can't make the rendezvous--”

    “I just have to trust the thread. So I can accomplish the mission.”

    “To fulfill the Quest,” Metria agreed. “You've got nerve, all right. Very well, I'll do it.”

    “One other thing,” Cube said to the ghost. “Suppose I do something in your world? To change it? What will be the consequence?”

    Silhouette made a wry smile. “Since just about everything in my world is bad, what harm can you do? I wouldn't mind if you entirely destroyed it.”

    “You're sure?”

    “Oh, yes! Assuming that we exchange for a day or so, then return, my main objective will be to find a more effective way to kill myself. My father had a drawer full of weapons; I should be able to find one there to do the job. Obviously pills aren't sufficient, but perhaps a knife would be.”

    “This is one weird attitude,” Metria said.

    “She means it,” Cube said. “You can talk to her while I'm gone. It should appeal to your demonic sense of humor.”

    “It should,” the demoness agreed.

    “Are we set?” Cube asked Silhouette.

    “I believe so, assuming this works.”

    “If it works, just walking through each other should do it. And we should be able to exchange back the same way. Shall we make a date for exactly one day hence?”

    The ghost looked at her watch. “Midnight. That seems appropriate. Yes, I will be here then.”

    Cube petted Diamond. “I'll be leaving you for a day, I think. But I hope you will help Silhouette while I'm gone.”

    The dog wagged her tail.

    Then Cube, not nearly as confident as she pretended, nerved herself and approached the ghost. She walked through the form--

    And found herself lying on a bed, woozy. A woman was leaning over her. “You're waking!”

    “Ungh,” she agreed, realizing as she spoke that it was a different language. Fortunately this body understood it, just as the ghost in Xanth had understood the Xanth human language. She recognized the woman as a hired nurse; Mundania had such things.

    “We were afraid we had lost you. The stomach pump and counter-medication helped, but you were still fading until two hours ago. Then you began a remarkable recovery. The doctors can't explain it.”

    “I have unfinished business,” Cube said through Silhouette's mouth. That was a serious understatement. She intended to turn Silhouette's world upside down, and make it worth enduring. The worst she could do was fail.

    “We must get you up and about, for the circulation, and some food in you. You are not out of the woods yet.”

    That depended on perspective. Cube saw that beyond the window was another building. She checked Silhouette's memory and verified that this was a built-up area, all houses, stores, roads, and businesses. This was a private hospital unit, not marked as such, reserved for wealthy patrons. Rich folk did not mix much with the common herd; their illnesses were kept invisible. So Cube, in Silhouette's body, was definitely out of the woods.

    “First I want to get a good night's sleep.”

    “But you have been unconscious for three days!”

    “Not exactly. Come back in the morning.”

    The nurse, fazed by her tone, retreated. Cube relaxed, sleeping. She needed this body to be in decent shape for the coming day.

    In the morning the nurse was back, more than eager to rouse her. Cube realized that the woman's position depended on the care she took of this important patient.

    She sat up, assisted by the nurse. Her head threatened to spin off her neck; she was dangerously dizzy. But in a moment it passed. Not three quarters of a moment, not a moment and two instants; here in Mundania such measurements were crude, rounded off to even moments.

    She swung her legs from the bed to the floor. They were absolutely lovely legs; her illness had not damaged them. The feet were dainty, the knees were not knobby, and the thighs were thickening columns of delight. Her panties would not have magic, here in Mundania, but with legs like these, who needed panties? They would stun any man within range.

    After another moment, she rose to her feet. The nurse steadied her again while her burgeoning head settled back into place. Then she walked carefully to the bathroom, checking Silhouette's mind to be sure she knew how it worked.

    In the course of an hour, with the nurse's help, she got herself cleaned, dressed, and combed. She stood before the full-length mirror. It wasn't magic, but it showed the loveliest creature she had encountered. She was ethereally beautiful. The Good Magician had said she would be, and she was, beyond her wildest dreams.

    But this was not the end of the Quest. This was just an episode along the way, and this was Mundania. She could not keep this body--not unless she wanted to stay here. She did not. She wanted to be lovely in Xanth, so she could charm Ryver. So she would handle her business here, as she understood it, and return within the time limit. She did not want to miss her return connection.

    She checked Silhouette's memory. Actually it was this body's reality; the memory was of Cube. Her soul was here, but the body and brain were Silhouette's, and therefore the memory too. She had exchanged limited life histories with Silhouette, not so that she would understand the woman's situation, but so the understanding of Cube herself would be firmly planted. Similarly, in Xanth, Silhouette's soul would be dependent on Cube's body and brain and memory. She would know who she was, but the details would be only what Cube had learned from their discussion. It was an interesting inversion.

    She was feeling better now. The food had restored her, and limited strength was returning to her body. It was time to tackle Silhouette's problems. She had reviewed them in her mind while dressing, and saw that Silhouette knew what needed to be done, as she had said, but had lacked the gumption, as she had confessed. Cube had never been short of gumption. It was time to apply it. The thread had not, it seemed, brought her here randomly. This was the situation for her strongest character trait. She rehearsed it in her mind; she wanted to be sure not to muff it. A life was in the balance.