Cube Route (19 page)

    The thread led right to Patxi and not beyond him. He, like the ghost, was another problem to be handled before she could move on. Cube sighed inwardly.

    Now she reviewed the story Patxi had told Silhouette about his curse. She suspected that this related to the thread's interest in him, and that she would have to find some clue therein to her destination. What she had thought would be a simple way to find her destination was instead turning out to be an ongoing challenge of understanding and performance.

    Patxi had been a rather wild child and youth. His talent, once he discovered it, was to make an invisible and unfeelable barrier that would stop anyone or any creature from passing. No one knew his talent, and he decided not to tell them. He simply went around setting up barriers in awkward places, then hiding and watching the mischief they made. He made one by the village playground so that the other children couldn't reach it. They didn't bang into it, they merely found themselves unable to get there, no matter how hard they tried. It was as if they suddenly couldn't find the way. They got very upset, and some cried, and Patxi had to stifle his laughter lest he give himself away.

    He set one up by the pie tree grove, so that the village women could not harvest pies for meals. They could see the pies, and smell them, but not reach them. They were most annoyed. It was hilarious.

    He set one up by the village spring, so that no one could get a drink of water. The men had to go to a neighboring village and carry heavy jars of it back. What a great prank!

    But it was when he put a wall around the village sanitary trench that the fun really began. No one could dump their slops there. The waste piled up in the houses, and soon an awful stench suffused the village. Patxi found the joke so funny that he rolled on the ground laughing helplessly. That was when he gave himself away, for no one else found the situation remotely humorous.

    They asked him nicely to remove the walls. He said no. They explained that he was seriously disrupting village life and causing distress for many people. He said that was their tough luck. They said he would be punished if he did not reform. He formed a wall around himself and no one could touch him. He capered and made rude noises at them, laughing so hard his sides hurt.

    That was when they held a village council and decided to take a stronger measure. They sent an emissary to the notorious curse fiends and asked them to put a curse on Patxi that would fix the problem and make him a good citizen instead of a bad one. The curse fiends obliged. They could not take away his magic, but they could govern him through the curse.

    They cursed him to use his talent only for good, and to continue until he was formally thanked. After that he would be released, having expiated his obligation.

    That was when his laughter stopped. He found himself compelled to remove all the walls he had erected, and to seek ways of using his talent to help others. But the villagers did not need or want any invisible walls on their premises. They just wanted to be left alone so they could get on with their dull lives. Since he could do them no good--and he had to keep doing good until he was thanked--and no one thanked him--he had to leave the village and quest elsewhere. But other villages had heard about him, and wanted none of his help, fearing it would turn to mischief. In that period came the Time of No Magic, which was a horrible disruption for all Xanth, and folk were suspicious that he might have had something to do with it, so they were even more wary of him.

    Finally he had gone to the king of Xanth, one Magician Trent, and begged for some assignment that would enable him to do good indefinitely, at least until someone thanked him. And the king pondered and consulted with the Good Magician, and assigned him the chore of making safe paths between all the major places of Xanth. They gave him a map of the places to connect and the various minor obstacles between them, such as the Gap Chasm, and let him be.

    He worked diligently, making all the paths on the map, and constantly improving them and making protected camps and way stops too, but no one ever thanked him. The king changed, and it seemed no one even remembered him or his job, but he kept working, because he couldn't quit until thanked. Now it was nigh sixty years later, and he wanted very much to retire, but could not.

    Silhouette had wanted to thank him, but she was not a citizen of Xanth, so she kissed him instead. He stared at her, amazed. “For an instant it seemed I was being kissed by the loveliest woman I ever saw,” he said. “But--”

    “I may be prettier inside than outside,” she said. Then she had left him, regretting that she could do nothing for him. But his plight had moved her, for she knew that every youth had indiscretions, and did not deserve a lifelong punishment for them. She knew from Cube's memory that the enchanted paths had been well done, and were a real service to all of Xanth, because people could travel along them with safety and comfort and not get lost. Surely he had more than repaid his debt. How was it that he had never been thanked?

    Now Cube was here in the same body, and she wondered too. But this was simply remedied. She opened her mouth to thank him--and could not speak.

    “That curse,” she said after a moment. “It stops people from thanking you.”

    “Yes. I think some might have been inclined, but they can't do it. So I'm stuck.”

    “I think I need to try to abate that curse,” she said.

    He viewed her with faint hope worn down by decades of disappointment. “I think others have tried, without success.”

    “I may have greater resources,” she said. “I can't promise success, but I'll try.”

    “I wish you well,” he said dully, and returned to his work. It seemed he had to clear the way by hand, then establish the invisible walls to keep all hostile creatures out. It was good work, but tedious.

    She retreated a short distance, until she was alone except for Diamond and Metria. Then she put her hand to the pouch and drew out the three Princesses. “I think I need some help,” she said. Then she explained the situation.

    “This should be child's play,” Melody said.

    “Which is fine for us,” Harmony agreed.

    “Because we're children,” Rhythm concluded.

    They focused on the problem, making their music. Soon they had a report:

    “This is a complicated curse,” Melody said.

    “It was made a long time ago, by many curse fiends,” Harmony added.

    “Most of whom have now faded out,” Rhythm said.

    “Don't curses quit when the ones who make them are gone?” Cube asked.

    “Some do,” Melody said.

    “Some don't,” Harmony added.

    “This one didn't,” Rhythm concluded.

    “But don't you have the power to break it? You are Sorceresses.”

    “We would if we could understand it completely,” Melody said.

    “But there are so many nuances in the programming that we can't fathom them all,” Harmony said.

    “It's old programming,” Rhythm said. “They don't make spells like this anymore.”

    “But you three together have so much power! Can't you just destroy it without understanding all its nuances?”

    The three shook their heads. “That would be dangerous,” Melody said.

    “It could have roots in some of the vital functions of Xanth,” Harmony added.

    “Like our share of the magic of gravity,” Rhythm concluded.

    Oh. “Well, can you do something partial, that doesn't risk disaster?”

    “Yes,” Melody said.

    “We can fathom its key points,” Harmony agreed.

    “And reveal how they may be handled,” Rhythm concluded.

    They labored, and in due course came up with three key aspects of one point:

    “The curse channels through a secret name assigned to Patxi,” Melody said.

    “Nullify that name, and the curse will not get through,” Harmony added.

    “And that name is Unthank,” Rhythm finished.

    Well, that was progress. “How do we nullify that name?”

    “This is tricky,” Melody said.

    “It's not just a name, it's a magic channel,” Harmony clarified.

    “If we abolish it, the curse might pollute all Xanth,” Rhythm concluded.

    “But if we leave it, we can't help him,” Cube protested.

    “Maybe not,” Metria said, appearing. “You folk aren't devious enough. You don't have to abolish it, just change it a little, so that it becomes a block instead of a conduit.”

    “Change it?” Cube asked.

    “Erase the Un.”

    Cube and the three Princesses exchanged a tangle of glances. “Can you do that?” Cube asked them.

    Melody shook her head. “This is delicate surgery.”

    “We might destroy it when trying to destroy part of it,” Harmony said.

    “We're not good at tinkering with other folks' magic,” Rhythm said.

    “But if you can't, who can?” Cube asked, frustrated.

    “I know someone who might,” Metria said. “Kim Mundane. She has the talent of erasure. She can erase anything, in whole or in part.”

    “Erase part of a name?”

    The three Princesses nodded. It might work.

    “Where is this Kim Mundane?” Then Cube realized the implication of the name. “Mundania!”

    “I can't go there,” Metria said. “But I can tell you where she lives. You'll have to go and bring her here.”

    “But I can't just go there! I have no one to switch places with this time.”

    “Physically.”

    “Physically,” Cube echoed.

    “You will have to use the portal at No Name Key,” the demoness said. “Then travel through Mundania to where she lives.”

    “But I can't do that alone! I have no real knowledge of Mundania. I'd get lost.”

    The other four, and the dog, merely looked at her.

    Cube knew she was stuck for it.

    She returned to Patxi. “I will try to help you,” she told him. “But it may take a while. I have to make a trip to Mundania first.”

    “There's no need,” he said. “It's not a bad curse, as curses go.”

    “I think that I am--not cursed, but obliged--to help you. So I will make the effort. I hope it works out.”

    “That would be nice,” he said.

    Then she saw the thread, leading away from him. It had appeared when she made her commitment. Diamond saw it too, or perhaps smelled it.

    She followed it back along the path he was making. When she was out of his sight, the thread abruptly stopped.

    She stared at its end. What did this mean?

    “It means it jumps, bird,” Metria said, reappearing.

    “It jumps what?”

    “Ignorant, stupid, idiot, moron, dumbbell--”

    “Dodo?”

    “Whatever,” the demoness agreed, for once not crossly.

    Cube realized that she had indeed been stupid, and not just for forgetting that the thread could seem discontinuous at times. She hadn't needed to ferret out the precise insult when she already had the meaning of the main comment. “Very well. Get in the pouch.”

    Metria slid into the pouch. “You too, Diamond,” she said, holding it down for the dog. Diamond slid in paw-first. Then she put her hand in. “Centaur.”

    Karia emerged. “I need to go to the portal to Mundania,” Cube said.

    “Readily accomplished,” the centaur agreed. “Mount.”

    Cube got on her back, and soon they were in the air. Cube admired the clouds and landscape, as she had before; this was too novel an experience to ignore. She saw the huge Gap Chasm, not looking nearly as formidable from this height. While they flew, she caught Karia up on recent developments.

    “That is remarkable,” the centaur said. “A ghost, an exchange, and now a physical visit to Mundania.”

    “It is where the thread leads me. It seems to be a good deal more sophisticated than I first thought.”

    “I wonder. I don't think the Princesses were trying for anything fancy. It must be that their magic enables them to do a magic thing right even if they don't fully understand it.”

    “That must be it. When I think of it, I realize that generating a full-size castle from air requires a great deal more knowledge of detail than seven-year-olds can be expected to have. Maybe there is a store of information they draw on without realizing it. So the thread may have similar sophistication. But I dread going out into Mundania on my own, and not just because I'm no Sorceress--and it will have to be alone.”

    “I see no real problem. Get Turn Key to help you.”

    “Who?”

    “He's the gatekeeper there, a nice older man, I have heard. Ask him how to proceed, and he will surely give you good advice.”

    “I'll do that,” Cube agreed, somewhat relieved.

    Soon they came to the southeast shore of Xanth. “It looks golden!” Cube exclaimed.

    “That's the Gold Coast. No Name Key is not far from it.”

    “Why didn't you groan?”

    “Groan?”

    “You hate the puns.”

    “What puns? The Gold Coast is called that because that's its nature, and they must simply never have figured a name for the key.”

    “I suppose that's right. I suppose not everything in Xanth is built on puns.”

    “Fortunately,” Karia agreed.

    They glided down to the string of keys. These were shaped like the keys to assorted locks, but were of course considerably larger. They were rather pretty. “What's that huge one?” Cube asked looking south.

    “That is Centaur Isle, where the centaurs live,” Karia said.

    “Oh, you must like to visit there.”

    “No.”

    “But--”

    “They are all grounded centaurs,” Karia explained. “No wings. It requires magic for a creature our size to fly, but ground-bound centaurs don't approve of magic for themselves. In fact they consider it obscene. So they don't associate with the winged monster branch of the centaur family.”

    “But you're no monster!”

    Karia turned her head back, smiling. “It is a broad classification that unites all winged creatures. We regard it as a signal of unity, not as an affront. No winged monster is supposed to attack another, outside of the normal predator/prey activity. I am proud to be a winged monster.”