Geis of the Gargoyle (2 page)

Read Geis of the Gargoyle Online

Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Science Fiction, #Xanth (Imaginary place)

BOOK: Geis of the Gargoyle
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"Oh for illness sake!" she exclaimed.
 
"I'll find some." Her lower section fuzzed and formed into a peculiar wheeled vehicle.

 

"What's that?" Gary asked, surprised.

 

"Haven't you seen a snit before?" Then a dirty noise pooped out of the thing's tailpipe, its wheels spun, and 'it zoomed away at magical speed.
 
She was departing in a snit.

 

Then it zoomed backward, just as rapidly, coming to park just under his nose.
 
"Just be thankful it isn't a snot," the demoness said, and was gone again.

 

Gary was duly thankful.
 
He had not had a lot of experience with demons, but this one seemed tolerable despite being rather too pretty for his taste.

 

Soon she was back, bearing a boxlike object.
 
"That doesn't look like a water plant," Gary said dubiously.

 

"Naturally not," she agreed, setting it in the river bed beside some of the rocklike pillows there.
 
"It's a closet."

 

"What good is a closet? We need water."

 

"A water closet," she clarified.
 
She opened the door, and a flood of bright blue liquid poured out.
 
"That's polluted!" Gary cried.
 
He jumped down and placed himself in the path of the flow.
 
He sucked up the water, then spouted it out.
 
"Oh-it's water color."

 

"Whatever," she agreed.
 
"It will do, won't it?"

 

He considered, tasting more of the water as it changed to red and then to green.
 
Already some of it was sinking into the ground around the wallflowers, and they were growing.
 
"Yes, as long as it doesn't flow away from here."

 

"So make another little damn."

 

"A what?"

 

"To divert the curse."

 

In a short moment he figured it out.
 
A dam to divert the course of the flow.
 
Mentia might be her self's worse half, but she did seem to suffer from a bit of her better half's problem with vocabulary.
 
He hastily scraped dirt and rocks across the path of the stream, causing it to puddle.
 
That left it nowhere to flow but into the ground around the flowers.
 
These responded by developing blue, red, green and other colored walls, depending on the color of the water.
 
The walls walled off the main riverbed.
 
The job was done.

 

"Let's be off," the demoness said, floating up.
 
She had resumed her full human form, and was correctly garbed.

 

But Gary hesitated.
 
"I'm not sure this is appropriate."

 

She floated over him, becoming even more lovely in her moderate pique.
 
"Why not, garlic?"

 

"Because my powers of flight are limited.
 
I weigh considerable, being lithic."

 

"Being what?"

 

"Being made mostly of stone, so I can fly only when aided by a steep slope or a gale-force breeze.
 
I shall have to proceed along the ground."

 

"So why not proceed, garnet? That doesn't mean I have to be landbound."

 

"I think it does."

 

"Why, garland?"

 

"Because from down here I think I can see your panties."

 

She exploded into roiling smoke.
 
Flames licked around the roils.
 
Her voice emerged, tinged with soot.
 
"You aren't supposed to look, garget!"

 

"I didn't look.
 
But I suspect that if I did-"

 

"Oh." The cloud sank to the ground, coalescing into her luscious human form-this time in red jeans.
 
"Point made, garden.
 
I'll walk when you do.
 
Thanks for not looking."

 

"Thanks for getting my name straight."

 

She paused, fuzzing briefly before firming again.
 
"Got it, Gary Gar." She glanced speculatively at him.
 
"It occurs to me you're not quite as stupid as you look."

 

"I don't look stupid, I look properly grotesque.
 
It occurs to me that you're not quite as careless as you seem."

 

"You know, if you were less ugly, I could almost be tempted to think about possibly starting to get to like you."

 

"If you were less pretty, I might be tempted not to dislike you."

 

Once more she fuzzed.
 
"You like ugly!" she exclaimed.

 

"How fining!"

 

"I'm a gargoyle.
 
We're the ugliest creatures in Xanth, and righteously proud of it."

 

"What about the ogres?" Gary pondered.
 
"I suppose you could call them ugly, if you dislike that type," he concluded grudgingly.

 

"Maybe we'll encounter some along the way, and see." Then she thought of something else.
 
"You're no more human than I am.
 
Why should you care about panties?"

 

"I don't.
 
But you evidently do."

 

"Well, when I emulate the human form there are codes of conduct to be observed, or the emulation is imperfect.
 
But that does give me a notion." She fuzzed, and reappeared as a female gargoyle, horrendously ugly.
 
"How do you like me now, Gary?"

 

He studied her.
 
"I wish you were real.
 
I'd be glad to spout water with you."

 

"Ha! You mean I can tempt you in this form, and endlessly frustrate you? This promises to be entertaining after all."

 

"Let's be on our way," he said shortly.

 

"On down the riverbed," she said.
 
"It will take us south to the gulf."

 

"But I can't swim," he protested.
 
"I would sink right to the bottom."

 

"Then we won't enter the water.
 
We'll proceed along the shore.
 
Except-" She broke off, evidently waiting for his query.

 

"Except what?" he dutifully inquired.

 

"Except for the whatever.
 
You'll have trouble navigating that." Then she brightened.
 
"But maybe I can figure out a way.
 
Onward!"

 

"Onward," he agreed, determined not to oblige her by asking again.

 

They set off down the riverbed, bound by bound, using their little wings to steer the bounds and keep them within bounds.
 
It was the gargoyle way.

 

Before long the dry riverbanks changed color, turning yellow.
 
Gary paused.
 
"What's the matter with the ground?"

 

Mentia looked.
 
"Nothing.
 
It's just doing its thing."

 

"But it's all sickly yellow!"

 

"No it isn't." She raked a claw across the dirt.
 
Golden coins rolled down into the channel.
 
"This bank is pay dirt.
 
And there's a mint." She pointed to a plant with odd oblong greenbacked leaves and round golden flowers with serrated edges.
 
"This is the bank where the money comes from, is all."

 

"Money? What good is it?"

 

"No good that I know of.
 
But I understand they love it in Mundania."

 

"They do?"

 

"They say that the love of money is the root of all evil."

 

She looked at the mint's roots, which did look bad, if not actually evil.

 

"But doesn't that mean that they think it's bad?"

 

"No, Mundania is such an awful place that they must love evil."

 

Gary nodded.
 
"That does make sense."

 

"Pennies and cents," she agreed.

 

They bounded on.
 
They came to a sign:

 

WHEN PASSING THIS BOG BEWARE OF THE DOG

 

"I don't see any bog," Gary said.

 

"I don't see any dog either.
 
But maybe it doesn't matter; that's just doggerel."

 

A new kind of tree appeared along the bank.
 
There was the sound of barking.
 
"Dogwoods," Mentia explained.
 
'They're harmless if you don't try to rub against their bark, which is worse than their bite."

 

But then real dogs appeared.
 
"I thought Xanth had no dogs," Gary said.

 

"This is close to the border; a pack must have crossed over, and the dogs haven't yet had time to turn magic.
 
It happens."

 

The dogs converged, growling.
 
"They don't seem to be friendly," Gary remarked.

 

"Who cares? They can't hurt us.
 
I'm a demoness and you're mostly mythic."

 

"Lithic."

 

"Whatever." So they bounded on, ignoring the dogs.

 

But the animals pursued doggedly.

 

It got worse.
 
Ahead was a solid line of canines.
 
It was impossible to bound through them.
 
So they stopped before the large female in the center.
 
"Who are you and what do you want?" Gary asked, hardly expecting an answer.

 

"I am Dogma," she replied.
 
"I want your dog tags."

 

"We don't have anything like that."

 

"Then we'll have to eat you."

 

"Just because we don't have something you want?" he asked incredulously.

 

"I'm a real bitch," she reminded him.

 

"Then we'll just have to fight you," Gary said with regret, for he was a peaceful creature.
 
"Have you ever been chomped by stone teeth?"

 

Dogma reconsidered.
 
"I'm really not dogmatic.
 
Just what kind of a monster are you?" she demanded.

 

"I'm a gargoyle.
 
I purify the water coming along this river, but I'm trying to find a better way to do it."

 

"Doggone it," she complained.
 
"Why didn't you say so? We thought you were pretending to be a dog."

 

"Why would anyone want to be a dog?" Mentia demanded.

 

Dogma turned to the others.
 
"Let them go, dogfaces," she growled.
 
"We don't have a problem with gargoyles, and we don't want our river to get spoiled.
 
The swans would go away."

 

The dogs looked disgusted, but gave way, and the two moved on down the river channel.
 
But they had hardly cleared the dog region before they encountered worse.

 

"More dogs?" Gary asked, seeing the creatures approaching.

 

"No.
 
Wolves."

 

"What's the difference? Aren't wolves just wild dogs?"

 

"Not in Xanth."

 

They stopped as the wolves closed in.
 
"What do you creatures want?" Gary demanded.
 
He was getting impatient with these delays; at this rate it would be hard to accomplish his business with the Good Magician and return before nightfall.

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