Yon Ill Wind (13 page)

She was begging to be persuaded.  What would clinch it?  Sean had an inspiration.  “Let's ask the pets.” Before anyone else could speak, he addressed the animals.  “What do you guys have to say?  Do you want to stay here in Xanth longer?”

All three nodded.  But that wasn't necessarily enough.

He needed a good, solid argument for turning back.  “What do you know that we don't?”

“Woof,” Woofer said.  He tried again.  “Woimp.”

“Something about the imps,” Sean said.  “The ones running the hotel?  Quieta?  Ortant?”

“Woof.”

“Ortant.  He's not what he seems?”

“Woof.”

“Something bad?”

“Woof.  Woof.”

They were zeroing in on it.  “Something good?”

“Woof woof woof.”

“He's more than the innkeeper?” Chlorine asked, catching on to the mechanism.

“Woof.”

A lightbulb flashed above Chlorine's head.  “I remember now.  He's the mayor of the village.”

“Woof!”

“The mayor!” Mom exclaimed.  “I had forgotten.”

“The most important imp is always the host for guests,” Chlorine said.  “Because they feel that hospitality is the most important function of a village.  I had forgotten too, I didn't pay proper attention in Centaur School, or I would have realized right away.”

“But surely the mayor should have been supervising the business of clearing out the village,” Dad said.

“Meow.”

David looked at Midrange.  “I guess so—after taking care of the visitors.”

“Yes,” Sean said.  “Ortant and Quieta were off in the village when Dad and I went down at night.  They thought we were safe asleep, so they were getting back to their business.  Without bothering us about it.”

“Such courtesy is rare in Mundania,” Dad said.  “Yet it begs to be returned in kind.”

That did it.  “We must go back,” Mom said decisively.

“Can we get there in time?” Dad asked.  “It will be evening, and that's when they have to be done.”

“Nimby?” Chlorine asked.

Nimby nodded.

“And you,” Mom said to Chlorine.  “This will be extending your job.  We don't have the right to—”

“I'm happy to,” Chlorine said.  “This has been more fun for me than anything.  And I like the imps too.”

Sean was very glad to hear that.  Now he would get more time with Chlorine—maybe a lot more time.  So she could practice whatever she wanted on him.  Like maybe progressing beyond the verbal interplay.

Dad slowed the RV, getting ready to turn it around.  “I hope we don't regret this,” he said.  But he didn't look regretful.

David was glad they were going back.  This magic world of Xanth took some getting used to, but he was getting there, and it certainly was more interesting than Mundania.  He knew that eventually he'd be back in dreary school, but at least he'd have a good subject for the How I Spent My Summer report.

Now they were heading into Xanth instead of out of it, and the winds were stiffening.  It was bound to be a long, hard drive.  That made him thirsty, as long drives always did.

He saw a sign.  APPLE COLA RIVER.  “Hey, Dad—how about stopping to get some of that apple cola?”

To his surprise.  Dad listened.  Maybe Dad was thirsty too.  He pulled to the side.  “Everybody get out and get anything done you want, because we won't be stopping again soon,” he said.

Oh.  That was fair warning.  They piled out and found assorted bushes.  Then David got a jug and went to dip out all the apple cola he could.  That was one of the good things about Xanth:  the way things were literal.  If the sign said apple cola, the river was made of it.  Just as that river of blood in the mirror/Tapestry had been genuine hot led giant blood, so copious it flowed for miles in a river down to the sea.  This river sparkled with its effervescence, and sure enough, it was apple-flavored cola.  He drank several cups of it before he left, so as to keep the jug full.

He turned to return to the RV, and saw a fire.  A series of small flames was traveling along the ground between him and the others.  He wasn't worried, because they were little enough to step right over, but he wondered how they had come about.  So he paused to look.

They were ants.  Little red ants.  “Fire ants!” he exclaimed, catching on.

“Wouldn't you know it,” Sean said.  “I found some block parents.” He gestured, and David saw several stone blocks in the shape of people.  That figured.

“Hey, look what I found,” Karen called from the other side.  “Laughing flowers.”

They looked, but didn't hear any laughing, though she stood in a patch of pretty flowers.  “Where?” David asked.

“Here.” She picked a funny red one and brought it to him.  “Smell it.”

He smelled it—and burst out laughing.  The curious thing was that he hadn't intended to; it just happened.

“What's so funny?” Sean asked suspiciously.

“Smell,” Karen said, handing him a funny blue flower.

Sean sniffed it—and guffawed.  Then looked as surprised as David felt.  Then he smiled.  “I get it:  these are scents of humor.”

“Yeah,” Karen said, satisfied.

Woofer came running up.  “Woof!” he said urgently, pointing his nose toward the vehicle.

“Time's up,” Sean said.  “We have to get back in before Dad takes off without us.”

They hurried back to the RV, because Dad didn't bluff when he was in a hurry.  The RV was already starting to move, slowly.  Of course.  Mom wouldn't let him actually leave them behind, but they got the message and ran the last fifty feet.

 “Did you see what I saw?” Dad asked as they pulled back onto the trollway.  “The fly-fishing?”

“What is noteworthy about that?” Mom asked.  She was sitting up front now, her normal place when they didn't need special instructions.

“They were frogs with fishing poles—casting for flies.”

Mom laughed musically.  “And you mean that literally, of course.”

“Of course.”

“And do you know what I saw?” Mom asked in turn.

“What did you see?” Dad dutifully inquired.

“A thim bull.”

“A thimble?”

“A thim bull.”

“A thin bull?”

“A male bovine in the shape of a thimble.”

Dad laughed.  “Grazing on pins and needles?”

“Of course.”

David decided not to try to tell what the kids had seen, because it simply wasn't remarkable, in this magic land.

“It's good to see them enjoying it,” Sean murmured.

David realized that he was right.  The parents had been somewhat tight and terse recently, but now they were getting into the spirit of Xanth.  That was an excellent sign.

David looked around.  The animals were snoozing.

Karen was fiddling with the deck of cards.  Sean was sneaking peeks at Chlorine's legs, where her skirt rode up carelessly high.  Chlorine herself was looking out the window.

But then he saw her eyes flick back, and he realized that she knew Sean-was looking at her.  She was showing her legs on purpose!  Now, that was really interesting.

But all this left nothing much for David to do.  He could play solitaire, but he was tired of that.  So he considered Nimby.  Nimby was one pleasantly weird character.  Really a donkey-headed dragon in the shape of a young man who never spoke.  So would he—

Nimby turned to face him.

Could Nimby read his mind?  Suddenly David wasn't bored at all.  This could get really truly superinteresting.

Can you?  he thought.

Nimby nodded.

Gee.  But he'd better test it.  What am I thinking of now?

He imagined a really ugly cartoon face.

Nimby brought out his pad and pencil—they just appeared from nowhere—and drew the ugly face.

Gee, again.  So they didn't have to speak to Nimby; they could just think their questions to him.  But maybe it wouldn't be smart to announce that.

Nimby looked questioningly at him.

Because people like to keep secrets, David thought loudly.  Like Sean's looking up under Chorine's skirt, getting a real charge from her legs, but he doesn't want anyone else to know.  And she's letting him do it, and SHE doesn't want him to know.  So I guess you can pick up on that… He paused, and Nimby nodded.  But you better not let them know, because they'd both be embarrassed to death.  Because they're both adults, or close to it.  I guess it's like that Adult Conspiracy that stops us kids from saying words like “bleep.” Nobody's supposed to know anything.  I guess if you peek into their minds, you'll see I'm right.

Nimby paused, then nodded, looking surprised.  David was pleased; he had taught the man who knew everything something.

And Nimby nodded again.

David realized that he didn't have to work to project his thoughts; Nimby could pick them up at conversational level.  But if he could read everybody's mind so well, why did he seem so, well, innocent?

Nimby wrote a note and handed it to him.

David read it.  I am aware of what is happening around me, but there is so much that I don't think to do it unless guided.  There are so many thoughts that I usually pay no attention.  I also have trouble comprehending human motivations and emotions.

David couldn't resist giving some more advice.  If Nimby wanted to seek mature human perspectives and motives, he should peek into Dad's and Mom's minds.  If he wanted hot adolescent thoughts, Sean was the one.  For naive childish attitudes, Karen would do.  But for a central, sensible viewpoint, David himself was the best source.

Nimby nodded, accepting it.

But David was really curious about one thing, and maybe Nimby would give him the answer.  He could appreciate why Sean wanted to see under Chlorine's skirt, as David himself found that intriguing.  He really did want to see someone's panties.  But why was Chlorine letting him see?

Nimby wrote a note.  She has not been beautiful long, and wishes to ascertain exactly how beauty works and what its limits are.  So she is practicing on Sean, who is the closest approach to an ordinary man to which she has current access.  She believes that what works on him should work somewhat similarly on other men.

Yes, it should.  So it was really a scientific experiment on her part; she didn't really care for Sean.

Nimby wrote a note.  Scientific?

He didn't know about science?  Okay, David would tell Nimby all about Mundane science, if Nimby would tell David exactly what he and Chlorine did overnight in their room at the imp hotel.

She slept.  I sat up and watched Xanth.

What, no mush?  No Adult Conspiracy stuff?  David wasn't sure he believed that.

Chlorine has little romantic interest in a dragon ass.

A what?

My natural form.  She seeks human interaction.

Nimby didn't have to sleep?

My type doesn't sleep.

But Nimby was in human form now.  Wasn't he as least a little interested in what Chlorine looked like with her clothing off?  David was only twelve years old, but he'd just love to see Chlorine bare naked nude.

I fashioned her present form, and mine.  I can in any event see her natural body at all times, as I can those of everyone else.  This has no novelty for me.

Evidently not.  But with such powers, why did Nimby hang around a dull family like them, and never speak?

There is a geis on me to be silent until I have accomplished my mission.

Oh, like a knightly oath.  David could see that.  Still, keeping constant company with a beautiful creature like Chlorine, didn't Nimby get even a little curious about what human love and bleep was all about?

I would like to learn about human emotion, yes.  It does intrigue me.  So far it does not seem very logical.

Well, that was because he was analyzing it instead of feeling it.  He was being like a teacher in school, who could make anything deadly dull in an instant.  Kids fell asleep in Sex Ed class, after all.  In real life people had emotions.

They cared.  They got all heated up about some stupid ball game, and they really got excited about boy-girl business.

Maybe Nimby should try that, sort of really get into the feel of it.

I lack the emotion of the human kind.  How can I experience the feelings humans do?

Well, he might try tracking David's own emotion for a while.  David would do his best to feel things strongly, so Nimby could get the idea.

Thank you.  I shall do that.

Now I'll think through science, David thought.  The way I see it, it's the Mundane way of doing what you folk in Xanth do by magic.  Maybe they're the same, in the end, just different ways.  Do you know what a lever is?

And so they communed, as the RV zoomed on, and Karen played her cards, and Sean and Chlorine played their little games of show and look.

Somewhere along there it began to rain.  At first David thought he was imagining it, but then he was sure:  the rain was colored.  Red, green, blue, and yellow drops struck the windows.  Was this normal?

Yes, for Xanth.- This storm is raining heavily ahead, so that by the time we reach the next river, it will be flooded.

The Trolls are about to shut down the trollway as unsafe.

But we have to get to Imp Erial today, to help them move their stuff.

I will be able to guide you safely there, if you ask me.

“We'll sure do that,” David said aloud, forgetting himself.

Karen looked up from her cards.  “Do what?”

“Nimby says we're headed into a bad storm, and the river will flood, and the trolls will shut down the highway.”

“We can't afford to get detoured now,” Dad said.  “We have to go on through.”

“Nimby can show us how,” David said.

“If this is a magic storm, he may have to,” Dad replied grimly.

The rain intensified, exactly as Nimby had written.  Dad slowed; he had to.

Nimby wrote a note.  Stop here.

The road was not flooded, but Dad obeyed.  Nimby got out, assumed his dragon form, and trundled into the rain.

“He will return, I'm sure,” Chlorine said.

And in a moment Nimby did.  Clenched in his donkey jaws was a branch with leaves and several fat bright cherries.

“Cherries!” Karen exclaimed happily, reaching for them.  But Nimby held them away, shaking his head.

“Those look like cherry bombs,” Chlorine said.  “Only they're bigger and fresher and clearer than any I've seen before.  I'd better hold them.” She took the branch and held it carefully, while Nimby reverted to his human form and got back into the RV.  He was, of course, soaking wet, so Mom came back and bustled him into the lavatory for another change of clothing.  Mom just couldn't help mothering folk.

“Cherry bombs grow on trees?” David asked, as the vehicle started moving again.

“Everything grows on trees,” Chlorine said.  “Except people, and sometimes they do too.” She sat down, and her extreme care with the cherries caused her to forget how her clothing was positioned.  Twigs of the branch snagged on both blouse and skirt.  David saw Sean swallow.  “But these must be a special variety.”

“Why can't I eat a cherry?” Karen asked rebelliously.

She got that way when balked.

“Because they're cherry bombs, stupid,” David informed her.  “They go boom.” He felt enormously superior.

“Boom?”

“Yes, they explode when dropped or thrown,” Chlorine said.  She managed to unsnag her skirt and then her blouse, the material fell back into place, covering what it was supposed to.  David heard Sean resume breathing.  That exposure had really been by accident.

Actually, it had been a pretty good view.  David had begun to get interested in such things only in the last few months, and suspected he would be more interested in the next few months.  Chlorine's body was fascinating.  But so was the notion of cherry bombs growing on trees.  “Does anything else do that?” he asked.  “I mean, explode?”

“Certainly.  Pineapples, for instance.  They're more dangerous than cherries, because they're larger.”

Nimby emerged, dressed in more of Sean's clothes.  But it seemed Sean didn't care; he was too busy watching to see if any more twigs snagged anything.

“Exactly what variety of cherry bombs are these?”

Chlorine asked him.

Nimby wrote a note.  No one else seemed to notice how his pad and pencil appeared from nothing when he needed them, and disappeared similarly when he didn't.  He handed the note to David.

“ 'These are new, clear cherry bombs,' “ he read aloud.

“ 'Much more powerful than the regular kind.  We will need them for the river.' “

“Nuclear cherry bombs!” Sean exclaimed.  “I'll bet they're powerful!”

Then David noticed a PS to the note:  When you saw inside Chlorine's blouse—was that emotion?

David smiled.  Yes it was, of a sort.  But to fathom the full effect of it.  Nimby should have peeked into Sean's mind.  Because if David got slightly warm, Sean would be a furnace.  And considering Nimby's apparent age, he should be reacting like Sean.