The Color Of Her Panties (14 page)

“Oh-and some folk will be dreaming Adult things,” Gwenny said.  “I wish there had been some other lenses.”

“Actually, these may be worthwhile,” Che said thoughtfully.  “You will face a difficult situation at Goblin Mountain.  If the daydreams of people indicate their real feelings-”

“You might be able to tell when they're not telling the truth!” Jenny said.

“But of course folk would tell the truth,” Gwenny said.

“Goblin males?” Che asked pointedly.

“Oh.” Because male goblins were just naturally the worst of folk, being the opposite of goblin females.  “But I wouldn't want to spy on anyone!”

“Now look, Gwenny, a chief has to know what's going on,” Che said.  “You know that goblin males are always conspiring to do mischief.  How long do you think you will last if you don't know what they're thinking?”

“He's right,” Jenny said.  “You will be chief over the meanest male folk, as well as the nicest female folk.

Maybe if you were an ordinary goblin girl, you could just be your nice self.  But that's not your destiny.  If you can't be mean, you'll have to be knowledgeable.”

Gwenny still looked doubtful, so they worked on her some more.  “You should practice using those lenses now,” Che said.  “So you'll be able to know folk's dreams and tell whether they're your friends or your enemies.”

“And so you won't blush when you see an adult dream,” Jenny added.

“But what can I practice on?” Gwenny asked without enthusiasm.  “The folk here are dreams.” Then she had a second thought.  “How was I able to see Jenny's day dream?  I mean, she's right here in dreamland, so how could she be dreaming?”

That set them back.  But then Che came up with the answer.  “We aren't dreams.  We're just visiting.  Our real bodies are lying in the Good Magician's castle.  So we can still have dreams, through those bodies.

That seemed to make sense.  So Jenny tried to make another dream, but she couldn't.  The more she concentrated on it, the more she paid attention to their here and now, rather than wandering to something else.

“Sing,” Che suggested.

Maybe that would do it!  So Jenny sang, imagining a pleasant landscape not at all like the graveyard here.  It worked!  Soon the landscape became real for her.  Then Sammy appeared in it, preferring it to the “reality” of this dream realm.  After a moment Che appeared in it too.

Finally Gwenny appeared.

Then they walked through the field of flowers toward the brilliant sunset.  And beside them walked some of the skeletons, who seemed surprised.

“But I'm not seeing your dream,” Gwenny protested… “I'm in it!“

“And so are the skeletons,” Che said.  “I think Jenny actually changed the scene here.”

So it seemed.  “I guess we'll have to practice outside the gourd,” Jenny said.  “But we might as well wait here where it's nice until we are recalled to reality.”

So they settled down for a nap, inside Jenny's dream.

Then Che had a notion.  “Jenny, if you are able to bring us all into your dream here, including the skeletons-what about the Good Magician's castle?”

“His castle?  But we're already there, really.”

“That's what I mean.  Can you dream us back out of the gourd, awake, so we don't have to wait here anymore?”

Jenny thought about it.  “Why, I really don't know.  My dreams always end when some outside disturbance interrupts them.  Just the way the gourd visions do.  Or when I stop singing.” That brought another realization.  “But I'm not singing now!  So why didn't this vision end?”

“Probably because this is the dream realm,” Che said.

“When we shift from one dream setting to another here, we have neither slept nor awakened; we have merely moved within the larger dream.  So your singing just facilitates that movement.  But what I'm thinking of now is whether you could make a dream of us back awake in the castle, and have that come true.  Because if that worked, you would be able not only to change dreams, but to get out of the dream realm on your own. That would be truly remarkable.”

“Why, I don't know,” Jenny said, intrigued.  “I suppose I could try it.”

“If it doesn't work, we'll be rescued anyway in a few more hours,”

Gwenny said.  “Still, I don't want to stay here any longer than I have to.”

So Jenny sang again.  This time she imagined the chamber in the Good Magician's castle, with the three of them lying on their cushions and looking into the gourds.  Then she had herself look away from the peephole-and she was there.  She quickly covered the peephole with her hand, then turned the gourd around so that she could not accidentally look at it again.

But the others remained locked to their gourds.  She tried to imagine them looking away, as she had done, but they did not.  Then she put her hand between Che's face and his gourd, and he snapped out of it.

“It worked!” he exclaimed.

But Jenny had a nasty thought.  “Suppose it didn't work? Could this just be a dream of us waking, and we didn't wake at all, but only thought we did.”

He put his hand before Gwenny's face, waking her.

“No, I don't think so, because I had not yet entered your reality dream.

I had not yet become distracted, so I was still in the flower valley.  I woke from there to here.”

Gwenny sat up.  “Are we out?” she asked, blinking behind her spectacles.

“I think so,” Jenny said.  “Except-oh, no, I forgot to include Sammy!”

“Sammy's here,” Che said, turning the cat's gourd around.

“But when I pictured this chamber, I didn't picture him in it!  So he should be missing.  Why isn't he?”

“Because this is real,“ Che answered.  “What you pictured of the rest of us had no relevance; we must enter your dream ourselves.  You pictured me, but I wasn't there in your dream.”

“But you had to be, because I woke you!”

“No.  You were in it-and since your dream was of reality, you saw reality.  You may have forgotten to imagine Sammy here, and he may not have come in by, himself, but since this is not a dream but reality, he, was  here.

“I suppose you're right,” Jenny said, her head spinning because surely if it were just her imagination, Sammy, would not be here.  That seemed to be the proof of it.  But, she wasn't quite sure.

Then her uncertainty found another focus.  “But the lenses!  Did they come through?”

Gwenny removed her spectacles, which were back on her face, here in reality.  She looked around.  “I can see everything!  Better than before.  Only no dreams.”

“That's because none of us are daydreaming at the moment,” Che said.

Then Gwenny's gaze fell on the cat.  “Now I see a chocolate mouse!” she said.

“Sammy does like them,” Jenny said.  “So he must be dreaming of one now. So the lenses do work here.”

“Well, let's go down and surprise the others,” Gwenny said, delighted.

“They think we're still locked into the gourd.

“That's right!  “ Che agreed.  “We may be the first to have found a way to escape the gourd by ourselves.  Actually, Jenny's the only one who can do it, but it remains a valuable discovery.  We can never be trapped in the gourd, if she's along.”

“Then we had better remain friends with her,” Gwenny said, laughing.

Jenny picked Sammy up, and they headed out to surprise the others in the castle.

Mela's legs were really getting tired as they neared the top of Iron Mountain.  She had never used them, this hard before, and she wished she could rest them.  Legs were so inefficient, compared to a tail!  But this was the route to the Good Magician's castle, according to the map, so she just had to suffer through.

Finally they reached the top.  It was bare; trees just did not seem to grow well on solid iron.  Not even ironwood.

But the view was terrific.  They could see Xanth spread out all around them.

But that did not help much, because they couldn't actually see the Good Magician's castle.  From this vantage, one part of Xanth looked much like another.

It did not even seem to be a very good place to camp for the night, yet they were too tired to make the arduous trip down the west side on this day.  What were they to do?

“I wish I had a nice soft moss bed to lie on,” Ida said.

“I wish I had a nice hardwood pallet to lie on,” Okra said.

“I wish I had a seawater pond to float in,” Mela said.

Smoke formed before them.  It swirled and became a female figure.  “Are you travelers in distress?” she inquired.

“Oh, hello, Metria,” Mela said without enthusiasm.

“I'm not Metria, “ the demoness said.

“Well, whoever you are, we aren't looking for trouble, and we hope you will go away.”

“I'm Dana, the Good Magician's wife.  I have no soul, but I try to emulate a souled person by doing a good deed every day, if I can find one to do.  I thought perhaps I could help you in some way.”

Mela did not quite trust this, but did not want to annoy the demoness, because that could lead to worse mischief.

So she tried to avoid disagreeing directly.  “I had thought the Good Magician was married to the Gorgon.” Mela had recently been told otherwise, but she distrusted the source of that information.

“He now has six wives, counting MareAnn.  We take turns with him, while the others remain in Hell.  This is my month of delight.”

“The demoness Metria did say he had married other wives,” Mela agreed.

“But she also said that he was once a king.  I find such things difficult to believe.”

“Oh, yes, he was the king of Xanth when I married him.  I had a soul, then, but knew I could get rid of it only by marrying a king.  Now I wish I had a soul again, though I blush to confess it.” She turned an attractive pink.  “But please, if there is any good deed I can do for any of you, let me do it, so that I can pretend to have a soul.”

Mela exchanged two glances with Okra and Ida.  “As a matter of fact, we were making some wishes.”

“Oh, I thought I heard something like that!  What were they? “

“I wanted a seawater pond to soak my tail in.”

Dana gestured.  A depression appeared in the iron surface, filled with water.

Mela dipped a toe cautiously in it.  “oooo!  It really is salt!“ She converted her legs to tail and plunged in.  It was wonderful.

Soon Okra had her hard pallet and Ida had her soft moss.

All three made sighs of satisfaction.

“How can we thank you, Dana?” Mela inquired blissfully.

“Oh, no,” the demoness protested.  “You must not thank me!  This is my Good Deed for today.  I feel almost as if my soul is back.

“Wouldn't it be nice if souled folk did good deeds too!

Mela said.  “If we can't thank you, at least we can hope to see you again soon, when we reach the Good Magician's castle.”

“Oh, you are going there?  Do you know the way?”

“We have a map, but it hasn't been easy to find the route.

“I will come again tomorrow morning and show you the best route.  That will be my good deed for that day.”

Then the figure turned smoky, clouding up.  “Oh, I forgot; this is my last day!  At midnight I must exchange with my successor, the Maiden Taiwan.  oops, I mean the Matron Taiwan; she's not exactly a maiden anymore.  Or maybe Sofia.  I will not be able to guide you.”

“Well, it was a nice thought,” Mela said.  The feel of the salt water on her tail was so good that nothing could upset her at the moment.

“I know,” Dana said.  “I'll have Metria do it.”

“But Metria is full of mischief,” Mela objected.

“ True.  But she is bored, and if I tell her that you will be doing something interesting, she will help.”

“Something interesting?  Such as falling off the mountain?“

“ No, nothing like that.  But if you are to appear at my husband's castle, you will have to put something on.”

“Something on?”

“All three of you,” Dana said firmly.  “The Matron Taiwan will insist on it.”

“But I'm a merwoman' “ Mela protested.  “I never wear clothing.”

“And I'm an ogress,” Okra said.  “Ogres don't wear clothes either, except for special occasions.  Fur suffices.”

“Dana's right,” Ida said.  “I understand that all human folk wear clothing, so they probably expect it in others.”

“The matron is very concerned about protocol,” Dana agreed.  “You are not nymphs; you cannot run around bare bottomed.  So I will have Metria guide you to the pantry.”

“The pantry?” Mela asked.

“That's where you start.  Well, I must be off; I have only half a night to make Humfrey deliriously happy.”

She disappeared.

They made a meal of Ida's magic sandwich, which expanded enough to feed all three of them, with enough left over for another meal.  Then they slept comfortably on or in their respective gifts from the demoness.

At the first crack of dawn, the Demoness Metria appeared.  “Up, you lazy bones!  We don't have all aurora!”

“All what?” Mela asked sleepily.

“Sunrise, daybreak, cockcrow, dawn, grief-”

“Grief?” Okra asked.

“Morning!” Ida exclaimed.

“Whatever,” the demoness said crossly.  “Dana told me to get you to the pantry if I wanted to see something interesting, so let's get on with it.”

They got off or out of their assorted sleeping places, which promptly disappeared.  Mela flexed her legs, which felt marvelously restored after the night's rest in tailform.

They snatched another bite of magic sandwich, then followed Metria down the steep iron path to the west.

In due course they arrived at the pantry.  This was a huge tree in the shape of a pan.  Metria opened a door in the trunk, and they walked into the interior, which was one big chamber.  All around its circular wall were displayed its hidden fruits.

“Panties!” Ida exclaimed.  “How marvelous!”

“We have to put on panties?” Okra asked, not pleased.

“Yes.  This should be most interesting.”

They walked around the circle, gazing at the assorted panties.  Mela had been diffident about this matter, but found herself getting interested.

She had never dreamed that there could be such an array to choose from.

There were panties of every type and description, from blah to fantastic and all the shades between.

But something nagged her.  She finally put her mental finger on it.  “Why should this be so interesting?” she asked the demoness.

“Because of the- Oh, you mean you really don't know?

“I really don't know.  But I'm sure that you must have good reason to be interested, and that may not be what interests me.”

“Indubitably.”

“In what?”

“In doubt, suspicion, distrust-” Metria paused.  “Hey, wait!  I had it right the first time.  It means not to be doubted for even a tiny instant.”

Had Mela not been a fair-tempered creature, she might have thought of being annoyed.  “Thank you.  What is that not-to-be-doubted-for-a-tiny-instant reason for your interest?  “

“Last year Good Magician Humfrey was dickering for his wife with the Demon X(A/N)th, and to get her back would have to answer a question that couldn't be answered.  That put him in a picklement, as you might imagine.  But he managed to wangle a compromise, so didn't have to answer the question.”

“Which wife?” Okra asked.  “Dana?”

“No, Rose of Roogna.  You don't know her.”

“What has any of this to do with me?” Mela demanded, mentally dousing her temper in chill seawater to keep it from warping.

“Why, it has everything to do with you,” Metria said, “You are the central figure.”

“I am?”

“Or maybe your center is to be figured.  The greatest mystery of Xanth is about to be solved.”

“Something I'm doing will solve a mystery?”

“Yes.  It will answer the unanswerable question.  That's why it's so interesting.”

“What question?” Mela demanded.

“The question the Good Magician couldn't answer.”

The temper was definitely fraying.  “And what is that?”

“The color.”

“The what?”

“The color of your panties.”

Mela digested that.  “The Good Magician can't tell the color of my panties?”

“That's right.”

“But I never wore any!”

“That's what makes it such a challenge.”

“But that's not a fair question.”

“Yes it is.  Because you are about to don panties, and they will surely have a color, even if that color is transparent, and then there will be an answer.”

“But surely he already knows that color, since he knows everything.”

 “Ah, you see it is more complicated than that.  The Demon X(A/N)th did not want to free Rose, so he planned to change the color you chose, to make Humfrey's answer wrong.  He has the power to do that sort of thing, and Humfrey could not oppose it.  But the cunning mortal managed to get around it with a plea bargain, and so the question remained unanswered.

Not that it matters; now it is merely a curiosity.  But I am very curious.  That's why I brought you here.”

“To find out what color my panties will be?”

“That's right.  I've never had the answer to an unanswerable question before.”

“Then maybe I won't don any panties!”

The demoness shook her head.  “They'll never let you into that castle bare nude.  You look way too much like a woman.  You have to choose.”

Mela sighed.  She did want to find a good husband, which meant she had to see the Good Magician, and if getting panted was part of the price of that, then she had to do it.  Even if it gave the demoness satisfaction.

Besides, she was really quite intrigued by the variety of panties offered.  The right panty might do wonders for her midsection, and possibly even enhance her chance of catching a husband.

So she lifted a panty from its hook and flattened it against her.  It was plain white.  “I don't think this does much for me,” she said.

“That's no way to judge,” Metria said.  “You have to put them on.  Take them into the changing chamber.” She indicated a curtained region in the center of the pantry.

“I don't need a chamber,” Mela protested.  “I can try it on right here.”

“No you can't,” the demoness said.  “That's not the way.”

“Yes I can.” Mela bent forward and lifted a foot.  But:  the moment it approached the panty, the material wrinkled and writhed away and got all twisted up.  She couldn't get her foot in it.

So with ill grace she stepped into the chamber.  Then the panty behaved, and she was able to put first one foot and then the other in.  The garment fit her perfectly, and she realized that this was part of the magic of the pantry.

All of its wares would fit any woman who came here.

She stepped outside.  The other three were now seated on stools in a semicircle.  “Turn around,” Metria said.

“Why?”

“Because that's the way it's done.  If you're going to model panties, you have to do it properly.”

“Suppose I don't?”

At that point the panty started twisting up again, and uncomfortable wrinkles pressed into her tender flesh.  So she turned around.

“Oh, they look much better now,” Ida said.  “Your bottom looks so much more interesting.”

This, too, did not fully please Mela.  She had been under the impression that her bottom had always been sufficiently interesting.  But she spied a set of angled mirrors, which magically showed her from behind as well as in front, and had to admit it was true:  her midsection was enhanced by the panty.  There was a certain glossy mystery about it now.  Was this the mystery that was about to be solved?  She wasn't sure that she liked the notion of the attention of all Xanth on her posterior.  But she also wasn't sure she didn't like the notion.  It depended on the panty, and her mood.

Still, plain white was not her favorite color.  She would try on something else.

She retreated into the changing chamber and removed the panty.  It hung limply, depressed about being rejected.

She took it out and hung it back on its hook.  Then she took another panty.  This one was lustrous black.

In a moment she was in it and doing her turn before the little audience.

“That's nicer,” Okra said.  “It makes your bottom ripple when you walk.”

Mela checked the mirror, and saw that it was true.  Her walk was definitely more intriguing than it had been.  Still, she hoped to do better.

She tried a lovely sea green panty.  That was better yet, for the currents of the ocean seemed to flow across it as she walked, but it still lacked something.

“Enough with the simple stuff,” Metria said impatiently.  “Let's see some fancy pants.”

“Then you pick them out,” Mela said shortly.

“Gladly.” In a moment the demoness brought a shimmering peacock blue silk panty oversewn with a golden net.  Within the net hung glowing fireflies.  Mela was amazed; she had not realized that anything this fancy existed.

She put it on and stepped out.  The room lit up.  “oooh, I like it!” Ida exclaimed.

Mela was tempted, but now was getting into the delight of panting.  There might be even better panties coming.

She would find the very best panty for her, and that was the one she would wear.  After all, if the fate of the Good Magician Humfrey had once depended on what she wore, she owed it to Xanth to choose carefully.

The next panty was royal deep purple satin, embroidered with woven golden ribbons edged with golden threads hung with little golden bells.

With each step she made music, and when she twirled she tintinnabulated.

“You what?” Metria asked.