Swell Foop (9 page)

"It controls the senior Demons." She coalesced into human female form again. "It has never been invoked in my memory. What possible pretext could there be to use that?"

"The Demon Earth has disappeared. We think he's been abducted. We need to rescue him."

"Rescue him! Good riddance!"

"His magic of gravity is fading. That will affect Xanth."

Dara's floating form abruptly sank to the floor, as if feeling gravity's effect. "I suppose that's true. But the Swell Foop—that's a really scary business."

And demons did not readily scare. "Will you help us search for the Ring of Earth?"

She sighed. "I suppose I have to. But I want you to know that this is not what's normally expected of a Designated Wife."

"Surely not," Che agreed. "We think it must be somewhere in the castle. I fear we shall have to search everywhere."

"Have you any idea how much idle junk is crannied away in obscure nooks?" she demanded rhetorically.

"I fear we are about to find out."

"Indeed we are. Well, let's get to it."

They got to it. They divided the castle into quadrants, and each of them—Dara, Wira, Zyzzyva, and Che—took a quad. This promised to be a horrendous bore.

Che had the rear storeroom. It was jam-packed. Fortunately the jars of jam were dated, and none of them were more than fifty years old, so he didn't have to open them. The first other thing he spied was a rack covered in fur coats. He lifted it—and discovered that it wasn't a dead rack but a live tree. It was growing the coats. It was a fur tree. But there was no Ring with any of the furs.

The next thing was a pot of paint. He picked it up, and it bubbled angrily, spattering hot drops on his hand. It seemed to be in a vile mood. He looked at the label: TEMPERA. That explained why it was so temperamental. But there was no Ring with it.

He found a dried flower. He sniffed it—and suddenly had an urgent call of nature. He galloped to the garden before he exploded.

A cloud appeared before him. "What's up, centaur?"

"You already know, Dara."

The cloud formed into a male figure. "I'm not Dara. I'm her son Dafrey. Humfrey's first son."

Che was surprised. "I took you for a full demon. Aren't you half mortal?"

"I've learned some illusion in the past hundred and fifty years. I can't really become a cloud. What are you doing?"

"I'm searching for the Ring of Earth. I could use some help."

"Sure. That promises to be interesting."

Dafrey accompanied Che back to the storage room. "Do you know what this is?" Che asked, showing him the dried flower.

"That's a begonia. It makes you have to go in a hurry."

"No wonder I had to hurry! I didn't recognize it."

They continued searching, but there was no Ring to be found. They returned to the kitchen to find the others there, similarly frustrated. "We could search for years," Zyzzyva said. "There's just too much junk here."

"This seems hopeless," Che agreed wearily. "It's too well hidden."

"Maybe you just need to think more like a Ring that doesn't want to be found," Dafrey said.

"Think like a Ring?"

"Yes. If you were a Ring, and you wanted to stay hidden forever, where would you hide?"

"Under the Good Magician's dirty socks," Wira said.

They all burst out laughing. Humfrey was notorious for being unable to keep up with his socks. His fourth wife was Sofia Socksorter, a Mundane woman he had married in an effort to get on top of that situation. But when she had eventually grown old and returned to Mundania, the socks had quickly gotten out of hand again. Now she had an afterlife as a sometime wife, but whenever she was off-duty the dirty socks piled up. There were piles that had lain seemingly undisturbed for decades.

Then, almost together, they began to sober. "I wonder," Che said. "Who would ever look under a dirty sock?"

"No one," Zyzzyva said. "Even a zombie would have trouble with the smell."

"I think we had better look," Dara said. "Let's spread out again, this time collecting only socks."

They did so. And in only another hour, Che picked up the last sock in the last crevice of the last chamber in his quadrant, and saw an earth-colored Ring.

Could it be? He picked it up. It seemed to be made of clay, but was well formed. "How can I verify it?" Che asked uncertainly. "It could be a mere incidental trinket."

"Father will know," Dafrey said.

They returned to the kitchen. "I may have found it," Che announced loudly.

In time ranging from two-thirds of a moment to one and a half moments, they were there. "That's it?" Zyzzyva asked, frowning.

"May I touch it?" Wira asked.

Che gave it to her. She tried it on her middle finger, and it fit well. "It's a nice Ring," she said, slipping it off and passing it to Dara, who had just popped in.

"That's it," the demoness agreed, squinting at it. "See, it says RING OF EARTH inside."

"But an imitation Ring could say the same," Zyzzyva pointed out.

"We'll test it, then. Put it on, Che." She handed it back to him. "But be warned: Once you don it, you won't be able to remove it until its task is done. That may be a burden."

"A burden?" he asked, slipping it on his little left finger, where it settled comfortably.

"You now have dominion over all the land-bound animals—the creatures of the earth. That's a considerable responsibility."

"I do?" he asked, surprised.

"Test it," she suggested. "Give them a directive."

Smiling, he did so. "Bow down to my left forehoof."

Immediately Zyzzyva and Wira got down on the floor, facing his hoof. Dafrey got halfway down.

"You're teasing me," he said, embarrassed.

"No," Wira said. "I am compelled."

"So am I," Zyzzyva said. "And I am not pleased."

"But why doesn't it affect Dara? And what's Dafrey doing?"

"I am not a creature of the Earth," Dara said. "I am compelled only by the Ring of Fire, which is not here. My son is half human, therefore half land-bound, so he bows halfway. But you can test it more directly: Try to remove it."

Che did. The Ring, though not tight, absolutely refused to budge. It was locked on his finger.

"Are you going to let us up?" Zyzzyva inquired with more than a trace of annoyance.

Oh. "Yes, of course. Please rise."

They got up and dusted themselves off. But Che wasn't satisfied. "If the Ring of Earth gives its wearer such power, why didn't it affect Wira when she tried it on? Why didn't it stick to her finger?"

"Because it belongs to the one who finds it," Dara said. "For the duration. You accept the commitment of it by donning it. For Wira, it was just a ring."

"But a nice one," Wira said.

"I thought I was just looking for it, to bring it back," Che said. "It is really Cynthia's mission, to find the Swell Foop."

"And yours to help her," Zyzzyva said. "Let's go." She climbed onto his back.

"Uh, yes. Thank you, Dara, Dafrey, and Wira. I sincerely appreciate—"

"Oh, cut it short," Dara said. She slapped him on the flank. Startled, he bolted out the door, and was soon in the garden court, where he flicked them both with his tail, spread his wings, and took off.

"I'm not sure I like this," he remarked as he gained elevation.

"Too bad," Zyzzyva said unsympathetically.

Justin watched Breanna depart with King Xeth. He wasn't totally easy about this, because Xeth had once wanted to marry Breanna, but he chided himself for even thinking of having doubt. After all, there was no question of Breanna's loyalty to him or Xeth's to Zyzzyva. Maybe it was that ever since his conversion from tree to young man, Breanna had been with him, and he wasn't used to being apart from her. He had been a tree for so long that he was hardly comfortable with the man state, but she had supported him throughout. They were about to be married, and though she liked to pretend that she was forcing him unwillingly into it, he truly wanted it.

But now he had to find his own zombie and search for a Ring of Xanth. According to King Xeth, all the Ring zombies were here, so he had merely to choose one and go find the Ring. He hoped it turned out to be that simple.

He turned to the nearest zombie, who was not far gone as zombies went. He had met most of the zombies in the course of the past year, and come to appreciate their qualities, but did not know this one personally. He was not part of the Castle Zombie contingent. "Hello."

"Hullow," the zombie responded.

"I am Justin Tree. Who are you?"

"Unpun."

"Unpun, do you know where a Ring of Xanth is?"

"Yeth."

"Which one?"

"Ring of Ider."

This would require some finesse. "Please spell that."

"Eye Dee Eee Ay."

"Ah, the Ring of Idea. That will do. Take me there."

"Canth."

"Can't? Why not?"

"Complishated."

"It is complicated to explain?"

"Yeth."

Justin considered. The brains of zombies were notoriously poor, and simplicity was best. But he saw no ready way around this complication. "Then we shall just have to figure it out as we can. What makes it complicated to explain?"

Unpun started talking, with many confusingly slurred words. Justin focused, got clarifications on words, and managed to piece out the story.

Unpun was once a living young man with the talent of making puns disappear. He kept company with a young woman named Punny, whose talent was creating puns. They went everywhere together, their talents nullifying each other. They were not consciously controlled talents; it was just that wherever Punny went, puns grew in her wake. Wherever Unpun went, puns were destroyed. So as long as they were together, their wakes overlapped, and the pun ratio of Xanth was fairly constant. Of course some of her new ones got away, and he canceled some that had existed before, but overall there was no problem.

Then they encountered a bad situation. Justin was unable to clarify whether it was a dragon or some other monster. It attacked, threatening to gobble up Punny, because she was delectable, and Unpun tried to protect her. So it turned on him instead, and with one chomp killed him.

Punny was distraught, but nothing she could do could bring him back to life. She could not create puns consciously, and even had that been possible, what pun would suffice for something as unfunny as this? So she did the next best thing: She brought Unpun's body to Castle Zombie and begged the Zombie Master to zombie him, so that he could have at least half a life. The Zombie Master did so, but Unpun could no longer make puns disappear. There seemed to be no fixed rule with respect to talents and zombies; some zombies kept their talents, some had partial talents, and some had none.

"I wonder why that is," Justin remarked musingly. "One would think that the process would be consistent."

"Don'th know."

"Could it be that some are fresher than others? How long were you dead before getting zombied?"

"Threee daysh."

"So have any zombies of that duration of death retained their talents?"

"Yesh, a numberr."

"So that's not it. Does the nature of the talent have bearing?"

"Noo."

"But there must be some reasonable rationale."

"Nooo."

Justin gave it up, frustrated; this was, after all, peripheral to his quest. "So what happened after you became a zombie?"

It turned out that Punny did not want to continue without Unpun. For one thing, there was now no nullification of all the puns that grew in her wake. She had to keep moving, or they soon surrounded her, making life unbearable for her and anyone near her. She had depended on Unpun to keep them under control, and now they proliferated impossibly. For another, she loved him, and had no joy of life alone.

"But why didn't you stay with her, as a zombie?" Justin asked. "She did not have to be denied your company."

"Nooo," Unpun said, pained.

It turned out that when Unpun lost his life, and his talent, he also lost his sense of humor. He did not find it funny, being a zombie, and he did not feel like laughing at anything. But Punny was increasingly surrounded by puns. He could not get close to her without stepping on them. Every time he touched one, it forced him to laugh, and it really hurt him to laugh. He couldn't endure it. So he was unable to approach her.

"That's an intriguing reversal," Justin remarked. "Zombie fleeing maiden."

But Unpun did not appreciate that form of humor, either.

The regular folk of Xanth normally took puns in stride, and even expected to encounter a certain number regularly. But the density around Punny was far too intense for anyone who wasn't a masochist. Punny lost her friends; the stench of bad humor was just too much for them. Finally Punny fled Xanth, seeking refuge on Ida's moon Ptero. She left her body in a safe place for the duration, and her soul went to reside in one of the few places where puns were welcome in any concentration. There she remained, patiently awaiting rescue from her fate.

"That is certainly interesting," Justin concluded. "But I remain uncertain how it explains why you can't guide me to the Ring of Idea." For that was, after all, the point of this association.

Unpun explained, slowly and confusingly, and finally Justin understood. Punny's job on Ptero was to safeguard the Ring of Idea, so that it would be there when it was needed. That meant that the Ring too would be surrounded by puns. Unpun would be unable to approach it, or even to direct anyone else to it, as long as it was in Punny's possession.

"But why did she take that job, then?" Justin asked, righteously perplexed. "She surely didn't have to. Didn't she know that would prevent you from guiding anyone to it when the need came?"

"Yesh."

As usual, it was necessary to question further, slowly unraveling the details. It seemed that Punny wanted Unpun to recover his sense of humor, so that both of them could be happy again. The only way he could possibly do that was to be returned to full life. That could be accomplished by the holder and wielder of the Ring of Idea. So Punny made sure to be there when the holder came, so she could ask him to do that for Unpun.

"The Ring of Idea can do that?" Justin asked, amazed. "It can restore you to full life?"

"Yesh."

"That is amazing. I never heard of life being fully restored after death. What an idea!"

"Precishly."

It took Justin a moment to assemble that thought. Restoring life after death was a fantastic idea, so it fell in the province of the Ring of Idea. "And that is why you know where the Ring is!" Justin exclaimed, finally making the connection. "Because you know where
she
is. Yet you can't guide me there."

"Yesh. Yesh," Unpun agreed.

"What an irony!"

"Yesh."

"But you know I do have to find it, and you surely want me to succeed."

"Yesh."

"So we shall just have to figure out how you can help me get that Ring."

"Yes," Unpun agreed. But the zombie did not look confident.

Justin pondered half a moment. "First, of course, we shall have to travel to Castle Roogna."

"Noo."

"No? Why not?"

"Bad direchion."

"But that's where Princess Ida is."

"Nooo!"

"It certainly is. Breanna delivered our wedding invitation there only a few days ago. We would have heard if she had moved."

"Noo."

"But I tell you—" Justin broke off, catching on. "You can't guide me there! So you had to protest when I called out the correct route."

"Yesh," Unpun agreed, abashed.

"Very well. We shall go to Castle Roogna. You know it's best, don't you?"

"Yesh," the zombie agreed faintly.

But at that point Justin discovered another problem. "We need to get there quickly. Walking will take days. But what else is there?"

"Nozing."

Justin looked around. His seventy-seven years as a tree had given him a certain insight into the vegetative realm. He spied several orange-yellow cloudberries that must have fallen from passing clouds. They weren't vegetables, of course, but he had seen them before. "These may do."

"Whath?"

He went to pick up two of the berries. "If we eat these, they will make us float like clouds. Then we can float to Castle Roogna."

"Noo."

"Now Unpun, you know we have to get there," Justin said reasonably.

"Wonth worrk."

"Won't work? Why not?"

"Winnd wrongg."

Justin looked up. Sure enough, the clouds above were moving in the opposite direction they needed to go. "Why, you are correct, Unpun." He didn't want to add that he had assumed the zombie would not be very smart, because most weren't. That was because of their rotten brains.

"I nnew a punn would noth do."

And a cloudberry was a pun. Unpun had seen right through the humor, having no sense of it, and caught the flaw in the plan. They would have to find another way.

Justin looked around again. This time he saw hoofprints. He had developed a fair eye for prints too, as many creatures had passed by his tree in the course of those decades. He recognized these: "Peek," he said.

"Whath?"

"I see the hoofprints of Peek. She's a ghost mare. She and her family passed my tree many times. They are nice ghost horses. I'm sure they'll help."

"Where?"

"Oh, those prints are fresh. They are close by. I'm sure they'll hear me if I call." He put his hands to his mouth and called: "Pook! Peek! Puck! It is I, Justin Tree, in man form."

In three-quarters of an instant three pooka appeared: the ghost horse family. All of them had chains wrapped around their barrels. The chains were necessary to keep the horses solid, since they were ghosts. Pook was the stallion, shaggy and wild-looking. Peek was his mate, with beautiful eyes. Puck was their colt, much smaller and cuter; it would take him centuries to grow.

"Hello, ghosts!" Justin said cheerily. "Remember me from my days as a tree? Breanna of the Black Wave made me change back to man form, and we expect to marry soon. But first I have an errand to do at Castle Roogna. I would be much obliged if you would carry me and Unpun Zombie there."

They hesitated, understandably, so Justin explained. "We need to fetch the Ring of Idea, to help save Xanth from a loss of gravity. To do that we must see Princess Ida, and visit her moon of Ptero. So it is essential that we reach Castle Roogna rapidly."

The three ghost horses shared a glance. Then Pook nodded. They would help.

"Thank you," Justin said. "Unpun, you may ride Peek. I shall ride Pook." He went to the pooka stallion.

"Buth I donth know how," the zombie protested.

"Have no concern," Justin said. "You would never be able to stay on a ghost horse without its consent, and you will not be able to fall off if one agrees to carry you. Peek is very nice; she will safeguard you."

Still Unpun hesitated, until Peek shot him a pretty-eyed look; then he went to her and climbed awkwardly onto her chains. Justin did the same with Pook. He expected the chains to be uncomfortable, but they weren't; they made a reasonable saddle.

Suddenly the two ghost horses were off like the wind, which was not surprising, considering their nature. Little Puck raced along behind them, every so often kicking up his hind feet. Justin had no trouble remaining mounted; Pook was indeed keeping him secure. That was one advantage of riding a magical beast.

But even at the speed of the wind, their travel was not instant. The landscape of Xanth passed around them, field and forest, hill and dale, country and village, plain and lake. They passed individual settings so quickly that they did not have time to move; they seemed like a series of pictures, frozen flashes. Surely the rapidly moving horses seemed like mere blurs to those they passed.

Pook angled his head so as to send a one-eyed glance back at Justin. Oh—he wanted to know more about their mission, and the news of the day, in exchange for the ride. It was customary.

"It seems that Cynthia Centaur went to the Good Magician Humfrey to inquire whether her offspring would breed true to the winged centaur line," Justin said as Peek and Puck drew closer to listen. "The answer was affirmative, but the Service required entails the saving of the Demon Earth, who it seems has been abducted, surely by some other Demon. The only way to accomplish that is to obtain the Swell Foop, which is a—" He hesitated. "Actually, I don't know what it is or what it does or how it works. But it is surely a very powerful instrument, as it requires the massed effect of all six Rings of Xanth to locate and control it. Thus Cynthia is being assisted by Che Centaur, and by Sim the Simurgh's chick, and by Breanna of the Black Wave, and myself. We are on five separate missions to obtain the Rings."