Authors: Piers Anthony
Tags: #Humor, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult
“Gladly! Let me just advise my friends.” Dolph resumed boy form, and told the others of the exchange. “Why don't you relax until I have learned the whole story,” he suggested. “It may help us in our Quest.”
“But it is getting late—” Marrow said.
“I think we shall be in no danger here, even at night,” Dolph said. “And I really want to know about this monument.”
“It is his Quest,” Nada reminded the skeleton. She was supporting him, as she always had, even in this hour of their alienation. Dolph noticed, and was unwillingly moved, but had no time to comment; he changed back to argus form.
He bounded with the other argus to the shallows, where the white-foamed surf rolled in. Yes, it was far more comfortable here in the water; it supported and wet his body, and cooled it, and caressed it. With the extra eyes on his sides, he could see to both sides, and above and below the surface of the water. This was a nice form!
“So you are a form changer,” the argus said. "King Trent does it too, but he changes only the forms of others.”
“Yes. Our talents are complementary.” Dolph had learned that word because of that relation between the talents, and was proud of it. “Now, what is the story of this monument, and why doesn't my grandfather talk about it?”
“Forty years ago Evil Magician Trent came to this shore, after being exiled from Xanth,” the argus said. “He had been banished because he tried to take the throne away from the Storm King, who wasn't a very good king, I understand. Twenty years after departing Xanth, the Magician found his way back, in the company of two others, Bink and Fanchon. They—”
“Who?” Dolph interrupted.
“Fanchon. The woman Bink married.”
“But he married Chameleon, my grandmother!”
“There must be some mistake,” the argus said, blinking several eyes. “It was Fanchon who was with him, magnificently ugly but horribly smart.”
“That's Chameleon in her ugly-smart phase!” Dolph exclaimed, catching on. “She must have used a different name then!”
“No doubt. At any rate, the three of them waded ashore here, very tired, and settled down to rest on the beach. Actually they settled in three different places, but we put the monument in the center, opposite the love-lies-bleeding monument on View Isle.”
“The what?”
“The monument on the isle. The one that marks the spot where the dying maiden lies.”
“There's no monument there!” Dolph exclaimed. “We just explored mat isle, and it's bare.”
The argus sighed. “That's what happens when the warranty expires! That monument was supposed to be guarded for a thousand years, until a prince came to wake the poor girl with a kiss, but the guardian must have gotten time off for good behavior and left. Wouldn't you know some monster would steal the monument!”
“We went there to find the Heaven Cent, but there was nothing.”
“Yes, the dying maiden has that. Too bad the monument's gone; the prince will have trouble finding her now.”
Dolph reined his excitement; already he was learning much of value! Maybe he would learn more in the course of the argus' story. “Tell me everything!”
“Well, the three of them settled down, and naturally got into trouble, because this was a wild beach in those days. Trent looked into a hypnogourd and was hooked—apparently during his long absence he had forgotten about them, or maybe he hadn't encountered any. They weren't as common as they are today, and they mostly didn't grow where the human folk settled. Fanchon rested under a lethargy tree, and of course it made her so lethargic she couldn't move. Bink lay down in a patch of carnivorous grass, and it started rooting in him. It was only sheer luck that he woke in time, but he couldn't get up, so he started yelling. Naturally that brought every hungry monster in the area, including a harpy, a caloblepas, and me. We got into a big fight over the morsel, and Bink got away and rescued the other two. I never saw a man so lucky!”
“But what about the monument?”
“I'm coming to that. They moved on to Castle Roogna, which was then deserted, and Trent became King and restored it, and I think it's still functioning today.”
“It is.”
“Because this was where they landed, the Good Magician Humfrey decided that there should be a monument to mark the site. King Trent said not to bother, but Humfrey did it anyway. He used some of the magic he had collected to identify all of us who had attacked the trio, and he bound us to guard the monument.”
“But Humfrey's gone! Why do you still guard it?”
“He's gone? His magic remains! We are granted life as long as the monument stands unmolested, so you may be sure we take good care of it. One day for each, the harpy, the catoblepas, and me. This is my day, and when the alarm sounds, I come quickly. The vegetables help when needed; the hungry grass and a land kraken are near, and the gourd remains here. This is a very peaceful beach now; no visitor is molested as long as he behaves.”
“But what about the amaranth flower? There was no amaranth in that story.”
“That was borrowed from the other memorial. When I saw that it was no longer well guarded, I feared for the flower, so brought it here. Indeed, it seems I was justified in my caution, if that monument is now gone.”
“What do you know of that other monument?” Dolph had been genuinely interested in his grandfather's monument, but at the moment he was far more interested in the other one.
“Oh, that's very simple. This wounded maiden lies bleeding in a casket, and she can not live or die until kissed after a thousand years or so by a prince. She will give the Heaven Cent to the prince who wakes her. That's all there is to it.”
“But how will the prince find her, if the amaranth no longer marks the spot?”
“I wouldn't know.”
“How long has she been there?”
“I think it's about eight hundred and fifty years, something like that. She has a way to go before she runs out of time.”
“Runs out of time? What happens to her after the thousand years are over?”
“Well, that's the limit, you see. If no prince finds her and kisses her within that period, she will die anyway, and so will the amaranth. They are linked, you know. They live and die together. I'm sure it is an interesting tale, if anyone knows the whole of it.”
“I'm sure it is,” Dolph said thoughtfully.
“I had to rewrite the inscription when we borrowed the amaranth,” the argus continued. “I'm a pretty good poet, if I do say so myself. I have an eye for scansion.”
“Yes, the inscription is very nice,” Dolph said, realizing that a bit of flattery was in order. “But I am going to have to borrow the amaranth and gourd.”
“What? I just told you why they must remain here!”
“But you see, I am a prince, and I must get the Heaven Cent, which means I must rescue the dying lady, and I think I can only reach her if I use the gourd, and I think I'll find her better if I have that amaranth.”
“But you don't have to take either from here! You can use the gourd here, and go to her casket there. Distance makes no matter in the gourd.”
“Why yes, I suppose I could. Very well, I'll do that.” Dolph looked around. Darkness had closed while they conversed, and the shells on the sand beneath the water were glowing in pretty patterns, setting up their night lights, and the sea itself was luminescent. “In the morning,” he concluded.
“You will have to clear that with the harpy; tomorrow is her tour of duty.”
“I shall do that. I thank you most kindly for your interesting story.”
“Quite all right,” the argus said, blushing green.
Dolph returned to boy form, walked out of the water and across the beach, and reported to the others. “I learned a lot!” he said. “We can proceed from here; we don't have to take the gourd.” Quickly he explained about the two memorials and the bleeding girl. “So I think I must be the Prince who will come to wake her, and that's why the Good Magician sent me here.”
Nada did not comment, but she seemed pensive. It was evident that she was not completely at ease about Dolph rescuing such a maiden.
The skeletons formed their houses, and they retired for the night. “What's bothering Nada?” Dolph asked Marrow privately.
“As I understand it, a prince does not merely kiss a sleeping maiden,” Marrow's skull replied. “He marries her.”
Oh. “But I can't marry the maiden!” Dolph protested. “I'm already betrothed!”
“But you seem to have a problem.”
“Well, sure, but we're still betrothed.”
“Still, if I were Nada, I would be concerned about the other maiden. It does seem that she is the one Good Magician Humfrey's note intended you to encounter.”
Dolph was silent. But he wondered, now, whether the Good Magician had known that Dolph would be betrothed to Nada before he encountered that sleeping princess.
In the morning they explained things to the harpy. She was a surprisingly understanding and clean hen; the Good Magician had taught her manners. That spoke exceedingly well for Humfrey's power! Then Marrow stepped into the gourd, disappearing as he did so. Grace’l nerved herself and did likewise. For the moment Dolph was left alone with Nada. “We're still betrothed,” he reminded her. “I keep my word.”
"Of course,'* she replied.
“I have to do this. It's my Quest.”
“I know.”
But they both knew that their betrothal could be in peril. Suppose he had to marry the maiden in order to get the Heaven Cent? “I'm sorry about—”
“So am I, Dolph.”
“Oh, mice! Why couldn't things have been as they seemed to be?”
“Because things are almost never as they seem to be. Disillusion is part of growing up.”
“I never want to grow up!”
“You must, Dolph. We all must, though it hurts.” She blinked. “Please get on with it, Dolph, before we both start crying.”
She was uncomfortably accurate, but she did not seem much like Ivy. Dolph realized that if Nada had had magic to make herself young, she would have used it. Her age was not her fault. She had been thrown into an impossible situation, and tried valiantly to make the best of it, and almost succeeded. He could respect that. Now she was being nice despite this second threat to her position. She was nice; that had never been in question. “Nada—”
“Please, Dolph,” she repeated, and he saw how hard she was fighting to hold back the tears. He was doing her no kindness by lingering.
Dolph sat down beside the gourd, tilted up its peephole, and looked in. For a moment there was only a blur; then he realized that his own tears were getting in the way. He blinked them clear.
He found himself in a huge building. People and creatures hurried madly in every direction, each one intent on some urgent personal business. Many were burdened by bags, cases, trunks, extra clothing, and an assortment of odds and ends. There were massive square columns supporting the ceiling, and recesses beyond the columns, and so many halls and passages and walkways that he could not even guess the extent of this room, let alone of the building. Every so often unintelligible sounds burst from spots on the walls, as if some tongue-tied monster were screaming for freedom. Surely this was the most remarkable castle in Xanth!
“What is this?” he asked Marrow, who was standing on his right and gazing across the concourse.
“This must be a new setting,” Marrow said. “I never saw it before.”
Grace’l was on his left, still oddly fleshed. “Have you seen it?” Dolph asked.
“No. This must be a specialized application.”
“Isn't the gourd setting supposed to be fixed by the person who enters it?” Dolph asked. "Shouldn't it be one that the two of you know about?”
“No,” Marrow replied. “We are creatures of the dream realm; our presence does not affect it. We are in effect invisible. It is the entry of a real person, in this case yourself, that determines the setting.”
“But you entered before I did! How—”
“Evidently the setting knew you were coming. This is what you will encounter in any gourd you look into, with the exception of the great physical zombie gourd. That, being of a deteriorating nature, does not properly fix on the individual; it is locked into the setting it had before it zombified.”
Dolph had to be satisfied with that. “Can you lead me through this one?”
Marrow seemed embarrassed. “I assumed it would be a familiar setting—the horror house, or the graveyard, or some other ordinary scene. This is so strange, I am at a loss.”
Dolph had been afraid of that. “Grace’l?”
“I only hope no one recognizes me,” she said. “For me, this may be better, because I am unlikely to encounter any former associates.”
“You look quite unlike yourself, with that flesh on,” Dolph reassured her. “You look just like a nymph.”
“Well, you don't have to rub it in!” she said. “This is embarrassing enough as it is.”
“But nymphs look very pretty,” Dolph protested. “Men are always chasing them.”
“Men are foolish,” she agreed grimly. “But I suppose it is true: no one would suspect me of adopting such a tasteless disguise.”
Dolph realized that it was up to him. “Well, I still have the watch. Let me see where it's looking.” He peered at the band on his wrist. “That way.”
The three of them looked in the indicated direction. It led through the worst of the confusion. Dolph shrugged and stepped out, and the skeleton and nymph followed.
They crossed the broad floor, guiding around the columns and avoiding the hurrying other folk. In due course they came up against a tiled wall. The eye of the watch was looking right through the wall.
Dolph remembered when the eye had led him out into the sea. He knew how to handle this; he just had to go around the wall.
They turned and walked along die wall. This brought them to a truly strange feature: a set of stairs that moved by themselves. They came out of the floor and ascended blithely through a hole in the ceiling. Other folk simply stood on these stairs and were borne upward.
Dolph shrugged. “I guess that's how it's done,” he said, and stepped onto the lowest step as it slid out of the floor. It took his weight and carried him up smoothly.
Marrow and Grace’l followed on the next two steps, seeming as out of place in this weird setting as Dolph himself. For one thing, the other folk all wore clothing.
The magic stairs deposited them at an upper level. They had to move along quickly to make room for the hurrying little dragon with three bags who was snorting steam as he moved, and for the buzzard bird who spread his wings slightly in his eagerness to get ahead.
Dolph checked the watch again. Now the way the eye looked was open. He walked that way—and in due course came to another wall. He followed it, and came to another set of magic stairs, these traveling down.
He sighed. He was beginning to wonder whether there was a way through this puzzle building. Maybe it would be better to ask someone.
A human man was hurrying toward the magic stair. “Sir,” Dolph called, “could you please tell me—”
“No time!” the man said, hardly pausing. “I'm late! Got to catch my plane!”
“Your plain what?” Dolph asked. But the man was already riding the magic stairs down.
A woman was coming, towing two small children. “Miss!” Dolph called, “could you—”
“No soliciting allowed in the terminal, you know that!” she reproved him as she dived for the stairs.
He decided to try one more time. He spied a skeleton coming, with a skeletal bone handbag. His experience with Marrow and Grace’l gave him confidence. “Mister Skeleton!” he called. “Would you—”
“The name is Red,” the skeleton informed him sharply.
“Uh, yes, Mr. Red, Would you tell me how to get out of here? I mean—”
“Why, you take your ticket to the window,” Red said. Then he was gone down the stairs.
Window? Dolph hadn't seen any windows at all, just walls and stairs. Still, this was progress. “Let's look for a window,” he said.
“But what about your ticket?” Marrow asked.
“I don't know what that is, but maybe I can find out at the window.”
So they turned away from the magic stairs and went in search of a window. Dolph reasoned that it must be somewhere in the wall, because that was the kind of place a window liked to be. So they walked along the wall, wherever they found it.
Instead of a window they found a hall. Many people were hurrying down this, so it seemed that it went somewhere, maybe to a window. Dolph and his companions merged with the rushing throng.
They came to a chamber with several rows of seats. Beyond the seats was a window—the largest, biggest, hugest, most enormous tremendous window he had ever seen. Dolph gaped.
Beyond the window was a plain, extending way out toward the horizon. This must be the plain that the first man said he had to catch! But what could a person do with such a plain, once he had caught it, and why did he have to hurry so? Surely the plain would not fly away!
Then, in the sky above the plain, a fly appeared. It grew swiftly, becoming a bird, and then a dragon, and then something strange: a cylinder with flat projections from the sides and fins at the back, that flew in like a roc bird with frozen wings, and came down on the plain. It made a continuous loud roar with a piercing whine at the top, and it had two gaping open perfectly round mouths at the sides, and it sent a torrent of smoke or steam or fog— Dolph could not quite tell which—from its rear. It was probably related to the dragon clan.
The wall-spots blared something unintelligible again. Immediately all the people and creatures seated in the chairs got up and walked to a door in the far side.
But they weren't going in the direction the watch's eye indicated. Dolph decided that this was not the plain for him to catch. He had to get to the Heaven Cent, and he did not want to get too close to that strange flying monster he had seen landing. It might belch fire at him without warning.
He tried following the watch's eye again, but this only led him into another wall. Obviously the Cent was beyond this building, so the best thing was to get out of the building and look for it. He consulted with the skeletons, and they agreed. Both seemed quite out of sorts in this strange environment, when they had expected to find it familiar. Dolph, who had expected the unexpected, was less at a loss. He would have found that situation interesting, if he hadn't been so concerned about finding the maiden and the cent and getting back to Xanth.
They came again to the magic stairs. This time they rode down. Now the way opened out in the right direction. The hall narrowed and the crowd compressed, the creatures as hurried as ever. Apparently this was the nature of existence here: hurry to a seat and wait.
The passage debouched into a cross passage. Once again Dolph had to turn aside from the correct direction. He turned left, and came to another big chamber girt by many stalls decorated with pictures and packages and knick-knacks and whatnots and all. Again, he would have been interested, if here for fun. Certainly, the gourd did not seem like a bad place, just a frustrating one.
He spied a great door to the outside, through which the hurrying folk poured in and out. He went out, free of the building at last. And stopped.
He was on a road, but a horrendous one. Huge boxlike things were jammed in it, nose to tail, honking impatiently. Alarmed that one might try to take a bite of him, he pressed back against the wall. But he saw that these were actually containers for people. His father had told him a tale of Mundania once, where the dragons were angular and made of metal, and the folk they swallowed didn't seem to mind.
Mundania! He must have found his way there! Now all he had to do was reach the cent.
But he discovered that the traffic of boxes was so thick and persistent that he could not get across the road, and that was the direction the watch's eye was looking. He tried walking along the edge of the road, but soon came to a corner where another road intersected, and this too was jammed with moving boxes. The folk inside them looked sweaty and harried and angry, as if this were a bad dream.
A bad dream! Of course! This was a Mundane horror, that the night mares brought to Mundanes! Probably in real life they didn't have to rush about or be confined in boxes that moved by themselves to unwanted destinations, or go docilely to the maws of loud flying monsters. But when they dreamed, these horrors were visited on them. What an awful setting this was! Worse than a haunted house or graveyard or flying knives. Dolph felt sorry for the poor Mundanes; no wonder they were so backward. The folk of Xanth would be backward too, if they could not sleep without suffering scenes like this!
The direction of the watch's eye had varied little as he walked along the road. That was its way of telling him that the cent was not really close. In fact, it was probably across the water, just as was the case in Xanth. How was he going to get to it? He hardly fancied fighting his way through all these moving boxes and then trying to cross the water without a boat!
As he stood pondering, the glass side of one of the boxes slid down. A man's face poked out. “Oooo! Gaga! Wow!” he exclaimed in a foreign language, staring at Grace’l.
Dolph glanced at Grace’l. She remained as she had been, the illusion of supple feminine flesh ruining her true hard bones, so that she seemed to resemble the barest and lushest of nymphs. Why was the Mundane staring at her and uttering those strange syllables?
“Wotta shape!” the man exclaimed. “Gimme summa that-there cheesecake!”
“What are you trying to say?” Dolph demanded, annoyed by the indecipherable words. Too bad he didn't have Turn Key's Mundane translation device here!
Now another Mundane was attracted to the scene. His box glass slid down and his head poked out. “Haybabe!” he called. “How bouta date?”
In fact, glass was descending all along the road, and heads were popping out, eyes bulging. “Gimmea kiss, Godiva!” one called. “Geta loada demboobs!” another chimed in. “Lemme geta pieca ash!” another cried. All around were similarly nonsensical calls, a chorus like the screaming of harpies. Dolph and the skeletons were baffled by it all.
At this point the moving boxes went astray. One crashed into another, and another crashed into a third. Soon all the boxes were piling up, and the cries of the occupants redoubled, becoming angry. Dolph could not understand the new words any better than the old ones, but he saw ripples in the air as heat waves radiated from those exclamations, and the few blades of grass by the edge of the road wilted.
Then a solid man dressed in blue strode toward them. He ignored the crashing boxes, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Grace’l. “Restingya fer indecen exposha!” he growled menacingly. “Whatcha thinkyer doing?”
Dolph realized that action was required, because though the blue man's words were baffling, his attitude was not. He intended some sort of mischief. Retreat was their best course.
Accordingly, he led the way back to the strange building. The blue man pursued them, waving a little stick and speaking loudly. “Stopinna nameofa law!”