Authors: Piers Anthony
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Fantasy fiction, #Xanth (Imaginary place), #Xanth (Imaginary place) - Fiction
"Yeah, yeah!" Ogle agreed.
"We have returned," Forrest said.
Both centaur and o re looked at ttiem.
"You look as if you are
recovering from a freakout," Cathryn said to Forrest.
"And you look as if you are recovering from awful outrage," Ogle said to
Imbri.
"Right on both counts," Forrest said grimly.
"We saw the image of your
Xanthine self."
"Bashing a mountain into a molehill," Imbri continued.
"Until he could look in a window and see a panty," Forrest concluded.
Ogle was amazed.
"I ogled a panty?"
"That is correct," Imbri said primly.
"It was outrageous.
You should
be horribly ashamed."
Ogle tried to wipe the amazement, awe, and delight off his puss.
"Horribly," he agreed.
"No wonder I feel so high near that border."
He glanced at Forrest with a women-don't-understand expression. Forrest
could only nod slightly hoping the females wouldn't catch it.
"So now you can tell us where Old Ogress is," Cathryn said.
As a foal
she did not seem as upset about the report as she might have been, but
it plainly set her back somewhat.
"Right this way," Ogle agreed, and began tramping northwest.
They followed, with Cathryn rapidly aging, and with each step her
expression became firmer.
She was achieving adult female human
perspective on the report, unfortunately, even though centaurs normally
didn't care about human hang-ups.
Forrest knew there would be no point
in discussing the matter.
The ogre was right: women just didn't
understand some things.
Maybe that was to prevent them from getting
freaked out by their own apparel.
They passed the general vicinity of the knoll where they had met Ogle
and went on.
They entered a region of tumbled timber trees, and there
in a crudely fashioned pig sty was an ogress.
She was covered with
stinking mud.
"Hey, what are you doing, Old?" Orgy asked.
"I'm trying to make myself ugly," she responded dolefully.
"Usng bad
smelling mud packs."
"Maybe you don't need to be ugly.
These folk have a deal for you." Then
Ogle, having fulfilled his part of the exchange, tramped away, looking
at everything except the not-ugly-enough ogress.
She noticed Forrest, Imbri, and Cathryn for the first time.
"Faun,
mares-who cares?" she inquired.
Forrest leaned over the rail ot." her sty.
"How would you like to live
in a castle with all the food you want, and an ogre who heeds your every
word and doesn't care how you look?"
"Me think me-oh, phooey on the rhymes!
I'd love it.
What deeply
disgusting thing do I have to do to get it?"
"Just make sure your every word is praise for the ogre's accomplishment
in knocking down the walls so well."
"But that comes naturally!
Normally I have to stifle it, lest I be
unogressly nice."
"Come with us, and we'll take you to castle and ogre."
She lurched out of the sty, shedding squishes of manure.
"Let's go!
"
"You don't even need to wear the mud," Forrest said.
"Excellent." She tramped to a nearby well, hauled out a huge bucket, and
doused herself with cold water.
In a moment she was wet but clean.
They set off for the castle.
"Out of curiosity," Imbri said, "why is it
that Ogle stares at attractive human women, and their clothing, but
wants an uglier ogress?"
"I have wondered that myself," 016 said.
"I think there is something
wrong with his vision, so that he thinks human women are somehow uglier
than ogresses.
It's a sad case."
"Very sad," Imbri agreed, satisfied.
They reached the castle and stood at the closed door.
Old glared at the
bell-weather, and it immediately sounded the alarm.
In a moment the
door opened and Orgy stood there.
"Are you the ogre who so successfully bashes down walls?" the ogress
asked.
'Yes." Orgy looked pleased, for an ogre.
"Show me how you perform this great art.
I can never see enough of
superior wall bashing."
Soon it was apparent that they would get along.
Orgy was bashing down
walls at twice his prior pace, and Old was waxing ever more delighted in
his accomplishmedt as she feasted at the well stocked table.
The
visitors had fulfilled their service.
Orgy paused in his bashing and pointed out through the hole in the wall
he had just made.
"Fifty three of your paces straight out that way," he
said.
"Good fortune on your quest."
"Thank you," Forrest replied, and the three of them stepped through the
wall and started counting paces.
It required three paces to get beyond
the castle.
Sure enough, just fifty of Forrest's paces out from the
wall lay a glowing horn.
Forrest picked it up and gave it to Cathryn.
"Now you can show us where
the faun territory is," he said.
She considered.
"No, I think not.
This is merely the means to the end;
the exchange will not be satisfied until the end is achieved."
Forrest sighed inwardly.
She was right.
They would have to complete
that aspect before moving on.
Still, this was progress.
hey returned toward Cathryn's adult range, as she was not comfortable as
a juvenile.
They came to the comic strip.
There was nothing to do but
plunge on in, hoping to make it through without suffering permanent
damage to their dignities.
There was a wall.
On it were the words PUNNSYLVANIA PUNITENTIARY:
ABANDON SANITY, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE.
"We have no choice," Cathryn said grimly as she scrambled over.
"How I hate the comic section!"
Forrest and Imbri followed her.
He was used to puns in Xanth, but here
on Ptero they seemed to be festering out of control.
But he knew the
strip wasn't deep; they would soon be out of it.
They almost crashed into a billbored.
It seemed to have been fashioned
from unpaid bills that had gotten bored with their inaction, so had
clumped together to form a sign saying BORING.
"Don't touch that!"
Cathryn warned.
"You will have to pay any bill you get."
But she was too late.
Forrest had already touched a corner, and a bill
had stuck to his hand.
It formed into a face.
"Pay me!" it cried.
"Why should I?
I don't even know you."
"Because otherwise I'll turn you over to a collection agency." And it
indicated a horrendous hooded ogre shape labeled YOUR MONEY OR YOUR
LIFE.
It held a huge bone in its paws, which it snapped in half.
Imbri burst out laughing.
"It's not funny," Forrest said.
"I'm about
to get my bones broken."
'I'm not laughing at you," she chortled.
"I'm stuck in this arti cle.
He looked.
She was indeed caught in a bush whose twigs resembled little
R's.
They were tickling her unmercifully.
It was an R-tickle plant.
"How did that happen?" he asked her.
"I followed that head line." She gestured back, where there was a line
of heads on the ground.
He took a step toward her, but stumbled into a plant that looked like a
tangle of spaghetti.
"Use your noodle!" it exclaimed angrily.
So he did.
He reached across and plucked a handful of R's from Imbri's
bush.
"Here is your pay," he told the bill, rubbing the R's against it.
"Oh, ho ho, hee hee!" it squealed.
"That's not-ha ha!-what I meant."
"Then blame it on the Retickle bush, there; that's where I got this
ticklish business."
"Collector-hoo hoo!-take care of it," the bill cried as it slid off his
hand.
The hooded ogre tramped to the bush and began pounding it with two
hamfists.
R's flew all over.
Soon the ogre was laughing as it
flattened the bush.
Imbri escaped, but didn't manage to stop laughing.
"I'm not getting-hee hee-tickled any more," she explained.
"It's that
it serves it so right."
They lurched away from the bushes.
Cathryn was trying to work her way
past a counter made of packed beans.
"I can't get by this bean
counter," she complained.
A head formed from the counter.
"Of course you can't," it said.
"Nothing gets by me."
But Forrest saw something else.
It looked like a huge man, bigger than
an ogre, but it was standing quite still.
His feet seemed to become
roots, and his hands sprouted coin sized mints.
"What is that?"
The centaur glanced at it.
"A Man-Age-Mint, I think," she said.
Then she brightened.
She plucked a mint from the tree and stuffed it
into the mouth of the bean counter's head.
"Take that," she said with
satisfaction.
The bean counter beGan to fade.
His beans became shriveled.
A vile