Currant Events (10 page)

 But Humfrey learned unusual things,
even as a very young child, and one of them was that there had once been, and
might still be, folk onMountParnassuscalled the Muses who were ageless. Maybe
she should go and seek their secret. If she didn't age, she would remain young
for a long time, abating the third aspect of her curse.

 Thrilled with that notion, she kissed
the four-year-old boy, much to his disgust, and at the age of seventeen set out
to findParnassus. She knew its general location, and since she didn't want to
tell her sisters, who would interfere, she would have to go there alone, on
foot. Well, she would do so.

 She set out, wearing her nymph-shape
bark, which had grown with her and now provided her with enviable curves above
and below the waist. She removed it only rarely, as she preferred the curves to
her natural state. She pretended to be offended when men stared at her body,
but she wasn't; it was nice being attractive.

 Little Humfrey had calculated
thatMountParnassuslay to the south, so that's the way she went. There were no
safe enchanted paths, though there were some unsafe ones; the safe ones would
come later. So she carried a long wood staff that she really didn't know how to
use, and poked at anything she wasn't sure about. What she really needed was a
traveling companion, preferably a strong male. But that wasn't completely safe
for other reasons. Unless she could find a safely married man to travel with,
though she understood they weren't always ideal either. Her sisters had done
babysitting for some families, and had some disquieting reports. Still, her
ability to wind back problem events reassured her, though she would avoid using
it if she possibly could. What use to save her life, if it only hastened the
end of her life?

 She passed a big pantree. This one had
pans growing above, and panties inside, and underpants on the ground beneath
it. She got the pun: pants under it. Fortunately she didn't need any underwear;
she had a spare pair of panties.

 Beyond it was another tree that blocked
her best path. Its branches spread out to either side, effectively balking her.
“How do I get past you?” she asked rhetorically.

 “I'm a Poe tree,” it replied,
surprising her. “You recite poetry.”

 Oh. She pondered, and did her best to
come up with something suitable.

 “I think that I shall never see, a
monster lovely as a tree,” she said. “And unless you let me by, a
monster may catch me on the fly.”

 “That's doggerel,” the tree
protested. “I was thinking of high classical, or at least something about
a raven.”

 “You didn't specify what kind of
poetry.”

 “I suppose I didn't,” the
tree agreed grudgingly. It moved its branches aside, letting her by. “But
you may deserve to be caught by a monster.”

 “I have already met monsters,
thank you.”

 “Nevermore,” quoth the Poe
tree.

 She went on beyond it, deciding not to
inquire how it was a tree could talk the human language. The land was more open
here, and she could walk without difficulty. She saw a box with a pair of
boxing gloves on top. Curious, she approached it-and the gloves rose up on
thick stems and menaced her. “What in Xanth are you?” she asked,
taken aback.

 “I'm a boxer, of course. I punch
out enemies.”

 “I'm not an enemy, I hope.”

 The box considered. “I suppose
not. You sound like a girl.”

 “I am a girl.”

 “That explains it.” The
gloves settled back on the box.

 Clio went on. She was evidently in one
of the oddities regions of Xanth, where things were neither friendly nor
hostile, just odd. Well, that was better than being pursued by monsters.

 She saw a large cake resting on a rock
sculpted in the form of a voluptuous woman. By it was a sign saying eat me, and
in smaller print, cheese cake. Clio distrusted this, but she really liked
cheesecake, and it reminded her how hungry she was getting, so she decided to
try it. She broke off a small piece and tasted it. It was delicious.

 Then she sneezed, and sneezed again and
again, helplessly. The remaining cake flew out of her mouth; she couldn't help
herself. It was awful.

 Finally the fit passed. Her eyes were
watering. The sneezing fit had come without warning, and just at the wrong
time. She had lost her cake.

 Then as her eyes cleared she saw the
small print more accurately. It said sneeze cake. She should have known.

 Not far beyond was another sculptured
rock bearing another cake. This rock was in the form of a marvelously muscular
man, and its sign said eat me-beef cake. She passed it by without pausing; she
was no longer hungry.

 She spent the night on the back of a
tree the shape of a frog: a tree frog. It was comfortable, and the sides were
steep enough so that nasty creatures on the ground would have trouble getting
at her as she slept. That left only the flying bugs to worry about. Actually
there weren't many, because the tree frog's tongue snapped out and hauled any
that ventured close in to its mouth. But in the morning it decided to change
its location, and jumped. She fell to the ground, hurting her leg. She had to
windback so she could slide gracefully off just before the jump.

 She found pie trees and fresh streams,
so was able to eat and drink as she continued south. Whenever a monster spied
her and attacked, she wound time back so she could avoid it. She didn't like
doing that, but when it was a choice between shortening her life or dying
immediately, it seemed warranted.

 In due course she
reachedMountParnassus. This was a huge double-peaked mountain extending far
into the sky. She had no idea where the Muses might be, so simply would have to
climb to the top and hope she found them along the way.

 The north peak was closer, so she
started up that. There were a number of paths that separated, ran parallel, and
joined, so it was easy to find her way; she simply took whatever branch was
headed uphill at the moment.

 Then something huge appeared. It was
the largest serpent she had ever seen. Its head was half the size of her body,
with a jaw that could surely open a mouth capable of swallowing her whole. She
stared at it half a moment, horrified, then tried to turn to run away-and could
not, for the giant eye had caught her gaze and held her immobile.

 “Wh-what-?” she asked, her
mouth unable to get more words out.

 “I am the Python,” the
serpent hissed. “I am the passion and nemesis of all the female gender. I
roused desire in the first woman, and made her ashamed of her ardor, yet she
could not deny it. I will possess the last woman to ever exist. Bow down before
me, you helpless creature, for I am about to do you the favor of consuming
you.” He slithered forward, holding her gaze.

 Clio finally acted. She wound the scene
back until the snake was out of sight, then quickly dodged to another path and
hurried along it, away from the horror. It wasn't just the thought of being
swallowed whole, it was the dreadful compulsion of the reptile's speech. He had
stirred a feeling in her that she had never had before, an urge to be possessed
in some unknown manner. She had to get away from that!

 Then the Python appeared before her.
How had that happened? She should have left it behind.

 “I know your location and nature,
innocent girl,” he hissed. “You can't escape me.” His terrible
gaze transfixed her again; she could not move. “No woman can escape me,
for I am desire itself. Come to me, my delicious morsel.”

 Clio wound the scene back again, and
fled. This time she ran down the slope, to make better speed. But soon the
Python appeared before her once more. “I love to play with you,
morsel,” he hissed. “But I wonder how you manage to slip my noose? Ah-you
possess an unusual magic talent!”

 And the serpent was telepathic! That
explained how she was hearing him talk, and why she was feeling those awful yet
alluring feelings. He had read her talent in her mind, and learned what she had
done.

 She could not continue winding back and
being caught again. She had to find a way to escape him permanently. What could
that be?

 “There is no way,” the Python
hissed. “You are destined to be mine, for you are a mere female. All
females are mine.”

 A new emotion entered the fray:
annoyance. The reptile was belittling her nature, and she wasn't at all sure he
was telling the truth. That prompted her to try again. This time she wound the
scene well back, almost to their prior encounter. Then she dodged to the side
and ran north, along a level path around the slope of the mountain. By the time
the snake realized she hadn't gone where she had gone before, she would be too
far ahead to catch. She hoped.

 She came to a wine-red pool. Around it
sat a number of buxom bare girls. They stared at her, startled. They were long
of leg, small of waist, full of bosom, cute of face, and had wild long hair
flaring from their heads and bouncing on their shoulders. Every one of them
looked like man's desire.

 Then they leaped up. “The maenads
feed today!” one cried, and started toward her.

 Clio did not like the sound of this.
Normally pretty girls were nothing to fear, but these ones had pointed teeth,
and the wildness of their hair extended to their blazing eyes. That made her
nervous, so she wound the scene back and took another path. But she heard a
slithering sound, and realized that the Python was coming down this trail. She
was caught between the bloodthirsty maenads and the hungry snake.

 Then she realized that she might be
able to make something of this. Instead of doing another windback, she turned
and ran back toward the wild women in real time. She knew the Python was
following, and gaining on her; he could slither with remarkable swiftness. But
she had a plan.

 She rounded a turn. There were the
maenads, charging toward her. She ran right into them, dodged, and past them,
surprising them. She ran on toward their colored pond.

 Meanwhile the Python was the next to
come upon the maenads. “So the snake intrudes!” a maenad screamed.
“Get him!”

 Clio risked a look back. The maenads
were swarming over the reptile, clawing at him with their bare hands. He in
turn was writhing and snapping. It seemed to be a fair battle.

 Meanwhile, Clio was left alone, and for
once she hadn't had to use the windback. She kneeled by the pond and scooped up
a palmful of its water. She sipped it.

 Water? This was wine! It was delicious,
but very strong. It went right to her head, making her feel wild.

 A maenad appeared, coming from the
other direction. “Who are you?” she demanded, baring her teeth in
what was definitely not a smile.

 “Just a visitor. I was thirsty, so
I paused here to-”

 The maenad screamed and pounced. She
actually leaped through the air, her hair flaring dangerously, and caught hold
of Clio, bringing those teeth down for a bite of her shoulder. The pain was
awful.

 Clio wound back the scene, meanwhile
thinking fast. She did not want to speak falsely, but it was clearly unsafe to
tell the truth to a maenad, who regarded all other creatures as prey. It would
be better to divert the bloodthirsty girl.

 So when she resumed normal activity,
she answered, “Did you know there's a fight with the Python?”

 The maenad was horrified. “And I
missed it? Where?”

 Clio pointed. “Down that path. You
won't miss it.”

 The maenad set off at a run that made
all her flesh ripple. It was remarkable how young and sweet she looked, yet how
vicious she was. Soon she disappeared around a turn. Clio trusted that she was
not too late for the fight.

 She was alone again, but surely not for
long. Other maenads might be appearing, and she couldn't divert them all. She
also couldn't drink much more of this wine; it made her feel too much like a
maenad.

 A bulb flashed. Maybe she could be
a maenad, just long enough to find her bearings.

 She removed her clothing, keeping only
the snug nymph bark that gave her shape. She looked at her reflection in the
pool as it stilled. Yes, she looked a lot like a maenad, except that her teeth
were not pointed and her hair wasn't as wild. So she fluffed out her tresses,
and would try to keep her mouth closed. She wadded up her clothing to make it
seem like a tattered chunk of something dead and carried it in her hand. Then
she walked on up the mountain, following the most direct path. More than one
maenad saw her, but took her for one of them, especially when she chewed on her
chunk of tatter.

 When she was well clear of both maenads
and Python, she unwadded her clothing and donned it again. It was badly
rumpled, but that couldn't be helped. No one was seeing her anyway; the height
of the mountain seemed to lack both people and wildlife.

 At last, tired, she reached the top.
There at the apex grew a mighty tree with rich green leaves. She was so hungry
that she plucked a leaf and chewed it, and it did help; it made her feel
remarkably healthy. Maybe there was Healing Elixir in it.