The Color Of Her Panties (4 page)

“I don't think that creature likes us,” Jenny whispered.

“But how can a bad creature be on a charmed bridge?” Gwenny asked, adjusting her spectacles to see it better.

“There aren't supposed to be any hostiles along the magic paths.”

“The charm may not work well against demons,” Che said.  “Or the magic of the bridge may be weakening.  We shall have to tell the Good Magician, so he can fix it.”

“But first we have to get to his castle,” Jenny said.

“And I don't think we're going to do it by crossing this bridge.

“There is a third bridge,” Che said, checking the map.

“I suppose the sensible thing to do is go to it.

Gwenny sighed.  “I suppose so.  But it is getting late.

They walked on west, leaving the glowering demon behind.  When they slowed, Che flicked them all, including himself, and they got lighter and faster.

They came to the third bridge.  It was narrow but looked solid.  Jenny stepped toward it.

“Wait,” Che said.  He took a stick and poked it at the planking.  “I was afraid of that.”

“Afraid of what?” Jenny asked.

“It isn't solid.  See, the stick pokes right through it without resistance.”

“But the map shows it!” Gwenny protested, upset.  “It's not supposed to be illusion.”

“It isn't.  It's one-way-going the other way.”

“But we have to go our way!”

“I am not certain of the mechanism of it,” Che said.

“I suspect that someone recently used it, and that it reverses after use, to allow the person to return, or just to be fair to the other side.  We just happened to arrive at the wrong time.”

Gwenny stamped her delicate little foot.  “Oh, this is so frustrating! Were I not the daughter of a chief, I would say something disreputable.”

“Perhaps Jenny could say it instead,” Che suggested.

“She's not royal, as far as we know.  What expression did you have in mind?”

“Big mice.  Maybe even-”

“Rats!” Jenny cried.

The bridge trembled, smarting under the disreputable expression.  Gwenny giggled, feeling better.

Nevertheless, they could not cross.  What were they to do?  All three bridges had been denied them, and the day was fading.

“Perhaps if I made us even lighter, we might walk down the face of the cliff,” Che said.  “We could not fall, or if we did, we would land so lightly we would not be hurt.”

“In that case we could just jump,” Jenny pointed out.

Gwenny considered.  “I suppose, if it's the only way.”

They stood at the brink, ready to be lightened.  Then a gust of wind came, followed by another.

“I just thought,” Jenny said, “if we are feather light, couldn't that wind blow us away?”

“Unfortunately it could,” Che agreed.  “I fear that our timing is wrong again.”

“But there has to be some way!” Gwenny exclaimed.

“We have to reach the Good Magician's castle.”

“Perhaps we can go around the Gap Chasm,” Che said.

“The map indicates that it ends at the water.”

“Then how will we cross the water?” Jenny asked.

“We shall have to fashion a raft or similar craft,” Che said.  “We should be able to do that in a day or so, if we can find suitable materials.”

“Oh, this is getting so complicated!” Gwenny wailed.

“I could summon a winged monster,” Che offered.

“No!  I have to get through this myself, or it doesn't count.  I mean, with your help and Jenny's, but not with adults or monsters.  Otherwise I won't have what it takes to be chief and might as well give up, and I absolutely refuse to do that.”

“We'll get through,” Jenny said reassuringly.

So they proceeded on west, and as the day expired they reached the shore of the sea.  They scrounged for food, and found a pie tree with an overripe cherry pie and a somewhat soggy chocolate pie.  It would have to do.

Che found a deserted shed, and some old pillows.  The shed seemed to have an old debug spell on it, because there were no bugs inside.  They made themselves as comfortable as they could for the night, the two girls lying down on either side of the little centaur.  “I don't mean to complain,” Gwenny said, “but somehow I never thought about the awkward little details of adventuring.  It's really more comfortable at home.”

“It's better than being a prisoner of the goblins,” Jenny said.  “I mean, when the Goblinate-”

“I know what you mean,” Gwenny said.  “Male goblins are brutes.  That's why I have to be chief, if I can. Then we'll try to be civilized.”

“I think it is my destiny to help you do that,” Che said. “I am supposed to change the history of Xanth, and I think that will happen if you become the first female goblin chief.”

“I don't know about the history of Xanth, but I'll do my best to change the history of the goblins!” Gwenny said.

“The goblins are a significant part of Xanth.”

They lapsed into silence, and then into sleep.  But Gwenny was uneasy.

She had no certainty that she could even manage to become chief, at her tender teen age, or that she could do the job thereafter.

In the morning, shivering, they ate more aging pie and set about making a raft.  The map indicated a copse of deadwood trees nearby, and sure enough, there was enough deadwood lying around to make several rafts.

But how were they to tie it together?  There seemed to be no suitable vines, unless they wanted to try to hack some from a tangle tree.  They knew better than that!

But Jenny had an answer.  She addressed her cat.

“Sammy, we are looking for some nice, strong, safe vines that are close by.  Do you think you can find-”

Sammy bounded away.  “I'll follow him,” Jenny said, hurrying after.

There was a swirl of dust before Gwenny.  She retreated, not trusting it, but it followed her.  “There's something here,” she said.  “I think it's magic.”

Immediately Che came to join her.  “That's a dust devil,” he said.  “But there's no dust.  So it's probably a demon.”

A face appeared at head height on the swirl:  two round eyes made from vortices of dust, and a mouth formed from a wriggling dust snake.  “No, a demoness.  What are you tankards up to?”

“What?“

“Cups, glasses, containers, bottles, mugs-”

“Goblets?  “

“Whatever.

“Nothing interesting,” Gwenny said, hoping the demoness would go away.

There was no point in correcting her about the distinction between a goblet and a goblette, or in reminding her that there was only one goblin in this party.  They had enough problems without having them complicated by a supernatural creature.  Demonesses were supposed to be less worse than demons, being mischievous rather than mean, but their mischief could be formidable.

More of the form appeared.  Smoky hair sprouted and curled downward.  A larger swirl of dust became a voluminous skirt.  There was nothing between the skirt and the head, but they were evidently connected.  “I don't believe that.  You seemed most eager to get across the Gap.”

Gwenny caught on.  “That horrible demon blocking the way!  That was you!”

“Of course.  That path is enchanted.  A real monster couldn't be on it, but since I mean no harm and the menace was illusory, no problem.  I just wanted to see what you'd do.”

“Gee, thanks,” Gwenny said sarcastically.

“You're welcome.“ Sarcasm was of course wasted on demons.

Jenny returned, realizing that something was happening here.  “A demoness?” she asked.

The dust coalesced into a rather shapely figure of a woman.  “Metria!”

Che and Jenny exclaimed, almost together.

“You know her?” Gwenny asked, surprised.

“She pestered us when we were coming to Goblin Mountain,” Jenny said.

“She pretended to be Nada Naga, and talked to Prince Dolph.”

“Well, a winged centaur foal traveling with goblins and an outsized elf girl on the back of a sphinx was interesting,” Metria said defensively.

“Well, we're dull now,” Gwenny said.

“I doubt it.  Why are three young folk traveling alone, when they are under the protection of the winged monsters?”

“Because we're trying to learn to be independent.”

“And what would a long-haired goblin woman have to do with any of this?”

“She's my mother,” Gwenny said shortly.

“So your mother left Goblin Mountain to come to the centaur family, and next day you three depart alone, going in another direction.  You say that's not interesting?”

Gwenny realized that Metria would not be denied.  “If we tell you what we're up to, will you leave us alone?”

“That depends.  Let's make a different deal:  if what you tell me is interesting, I'll tell you something interesting.”

Gwenny looked at Che.  “Is that a good deal?”

“It probably is,” the centaur said.  “I understand that Metria always honors her deals, and always tells the truth.

But that often the deal doesn't turn out the way the other party thinks it will, and often the truth is not what he, wants to hear.”

Metria shot him a glance.  “Even little centaurs are entirely too intelligent.”

“However,” Che continued, “it will be necessary to obtain her commitment to privacy, because our mission is of a private nature.”

Metria grimaced.  “That ruins half the fun of it.  But secrets are more interesting than what everyone knows. I'll agree.”

“Very well,” Gwenny decided.  “I'll make that deal.”

For she realized that if their story bored the demoness, she would go away, and that was what they really wanted.

“My father, Gouty Goblin, just died, and I have to try to be the first female goblin chief of Goblin Mountain.  But I can't see very well without spectacles, and I'll never get to be chief if the other goblins know that, so I've got to get contact lenses instead.  I'm going to ask the Good Magician where I can get them.”

“The first female chief,” Metria said.  “Does that mean your tribe of goblins will start acting civilized?”

“Yes.”

“I can see that there will be no entertainment there. But of course you may not win the chiefship, in which case the goblins will continue to be interesting.”

“Yes.”

“That must be what Che Centaur is fated to accomplish: getting you to be chief.  That certainly would change the history of Xanth.”

“Yes.  Now what do you have interesting to tell?”

The demoness made an expansive gesture.  Her arms seemed to jump from one position to another in a series of placements, instead of smoothly the way mortal arms did.  “Only that there is another group of three traveling to see the Good Magician.  They are Mela Merwoman, Okra Ogress, and Ida Human.  Only the other two don't know yet that Ida is to be part of their party.”

“Mela Merwoman,” Che said thoughtfully.  “Isn't she the one who-?”

“Yes, the color of whose panties represents the Question the Good Magician couldn't answer.  It seems the time is coming for her to don them.  She doesn't know this, of course; she's entirely innocent, which is a paradoxical appellation to apply to such a brute.”

“Such a what?”

“Animal, beast, critter, freak, monster-”

“Creature?”

“Whatever,” Metria agreed crossly.  “How come you didn't stumble over 'paradoxical appellation'?”

“I am a centaur.  Such vocabulary is natural to me.”

“Well, I stumbled,” Jenny said.  “What does it mean?”

Metria was pleased.  “It means that this is the only way in which Mela is innocent.  When it comes to males, she oops, just how old are you?”

“Fourteen,” Jenny said, just as crossly as Metria had been before.  “I haven't joined the Adult Conspiracy.”

Metria looked her over.  “But you're about to.  It isn't just a matter of age.  After all, mice grow up and join in a matter of weeks.”

“But why should Mela Merwoman's excursion be of interest to us?“ Che asked.

“Well, she isn't, of course.  Your kind has no interest in panties, and the girls already know about them.  But Okra Ogress is of interest to Jenny Elf.”

Jenny was startled.  “She is?”

“Yes.  Aren't you aware of the rationale behind your arrival in Xanth?”

“It was an accident.  I was trying to catch Sammy, and we wound up in Xanth.”

“It was no accident.  You were chosen to come here. Someone had to be Jenny in Xanth, and you were the one.”

Jenny was flustered.  “I don't understand.”

“There were two finalists:  a foreign elf and a local ogress.  The elf was chosen, so you were guided through the hole in Xanth, and the ogre girl was dumped.”

“Chosen?” Jenny asked, bewildered.

“Someone wanted a Jenny here, so she was brought.

That's why the Muses were so interested; they hadn't done it.

“But then the ogress-”

“Had to take whatever name and role were left over.

So Okra Ogress is a minor character, and not too pleased about it.  It should be interesting when you two meet.”

“When we meet!” Jenny exclaimed, appalled.

“Maybe it will happen at the Good Magician's castle. Ida, of course, is even more remarkable, in a weirder way. So the future of that trio is a good deal more intriguing than your future.  With that interesting news I leave you.”

Metria faded out.

“You were right,” Gwenny said.  “We don't like her truth.  Who wants to meet an ogress?”

“Nevertheless, we learned something unexpected,” Che said.  “When I started to ask about Mela Merwoman, I was thinking of the way she kidnapped Prince Dolph, intending to marry him when he came of age.  But Metria told me something of which I had no inkling; it must be known only to the demons.  Now at last we know the Question the Good Magician could not answer.”

“But that's such a simple Question,” Gwenny said.

“Any magic mirror could answer it, just by looking ahead.”

“There must be more to it than we know,” Che said.

Then they both looked at Jenny, who was oddly silent.

“You don't have to meet any ogress, Jenny,” Che said reassuringly.

“It isn't that.  It's that I didn't know I was chosen.  That someone else got excluded.  I didn't mean to do that.  I thought it was just an accident, my coming here.”

“You didn't exclude anyone,” Che said.  “You have no responsibility for that.”