Yon Ill Wind (29 page)

He looked astonished.  “You want me to go with you?”

“Yes, if you will.  We need you.”

“But nobody needs me,” he protested.  “Nobody even likes me.”

“Perhaps because nobody knows you,” Willow said sympathetically.  “Are you mean-spirited?”

“No.  I am whatever I choose to partake of.”

“Is that your magic?” Mary asked.

“Yes.  If I see a rock, I can take its essence and become rock-hard.  If I see water, I can become liquid.  If I see a cloud, I can become light and fluffy.  But that doesn't help anyone else, and I still look plain and stuffy.”

Willow shrugged.  “So do I, among my own kind.  But I met a young man who thinks I'm beautiful, thanks to a love spring.  Maybe there will be something for you.”

“A love spring,” he breathed.  “What I wouldn't give to get dunked in one of those with a lovely girl!”

“Maybe it will happen,” Mary said, realizing that this was why Willow had been the one for this.  Her experience signaled what Adam's might be.  “Please come with us, in our floating house, and help us save Xanth.”

“Sure,” he said.

So they brought him out, and it turned out that there was no need to make him light, because he simply looked at a cloud and became foggy light.  He entered the RV and took a seat where one was available, beside Keaira.

“Any more people to pick up?” Mary asked Nimby.

Nimby shook his head.

“So our complement is complete at last!” Mary said, relieved.  “Now we can head straight on south and save Xanth from Happy Bottom.”

Nimby nodded.

“All the way south,” Jim called out the window.  “Are you fillies holding up okay?”

“We are getting hungry,” Chena said.

“Do you like pies?  We have a treeful.”

“Yes, those will be fine.”

So they passed out the pies remaining from the changed tangle tree, and the centaurs ate them as they flew.  The speed picked up.  They were on their way to their destiny.

David woke as the RV slid down toward the ground.

Was this boring flight finally over?  It had been interesting for a while when they picked up Willow, who was sort of pretty, and Modem was his own age, twelve, so had some common interests.  Modem had enjoyed the big stink the demoness made as much as David had, even if he had had to change it to roses to pacify the womenfolk.  He sneaked just as many peeks at Chlorine and the topless flying centaur fillies.  Oh, to be a few years older!  But Keaira was an adult young woman, well covered, and no raving beauty either, while Adam was not only adult, he was fat.  So once the novelty of flying in the RV faded, nothing much was left.

But now they were landing, and there might be some action.  After all, they still had to drive Happy Bottom to where she couldn't do any more harm, and she wasn't going to want to go.  He pitied the poor person who would have to wear the windbreaker jacket and try to herd her north.

Nimby, sitting beside Chlorine, turned his head to look at David.  Oh, no!  Did that mean David was the one?

Nimby nodded.

Nimby was eerie, but always right.  So David would have to do it.  But he wouldn't like it.

Nimby shook his head.

He would like it?  Why?  But Nimby merely smiled inscrutably.  He could be sort of frustrating that way.  Yet it did give David something to be interested in.  How could he like wearing the stupid jacket and trying to herd the stupid wind anywhere?  There must be something fun about it.

The RV touched down right beside the big pillow where Chlorine and Nimby had landed, at the beginning of the trollway.  They had come full circle, or whatever, and seen a whole lot on the way.  But what now?

Nimby had written some notes for Chlorine.  Now she read them off.  “ 'Keaira and David will have to herd Happy Bottom north,' “ she read.  “ 'He'll wear the windbreaker, and she'll keep the weather calm so they won't get blown out of the sky.' “

“Out of the sky?” Mom asked, her tone echoing the furrow David knew was in her forehead.

“ “They will be riding the winged centaurs,' “ Chlorine read.  “ 'And Willow will show the way, flying with them.' “

Suddenly it dawned.  He'd ride a bare-busted filly!  Up in the sky by himself, like a flying cowboy, and he could sneak all the peeks he wanted.  That would indeed be fun.

“But David can't go all alone out there!” Mom protested, as, of course, she would.  “Suppose he fell?”

Um; good point.  In the RV there was no chance of falling, because it was closed in.  But though he liked the idea of riding a bare-chested winged filly, his actual horse riding experience was small.  He might indeed fall, and if they were high in the sky at the time, that would be the end of him.

“ 'No, he will remain light,' “ Chlorine read.  It seemed that Nimby had anticipated all the questions.  “ 'Should he fall from his steed, he would merely float gently down.

The centaur would have ample time to catch him before he reached the ground.' “

Oho!  And how would she catch him?  By flinging her arms about him and clasping him to her bosom?  That was a risk he was prepared to take.  And Nimby was right about the floating; he had forgotten how light they all were.  So it was safe after all.

Dad had a more sensible objection:  “If Keaira goes with them, what of the weather here?  We'll be blown away the moment we lose her calm-weather protection.”

“I can change local reality to revert the moving house to normal,” Modem said.  “Then it might not blow away.”

But he didn't look certain, because they could see the ferocious dusty wind beyond the oasis of calm.  There were even phantasms forming around the edges of the calm region, making grotesque gestures to signal what they'd like to do to the folk in the RV if they could just get close.  Of course, it would just be illusion, mostly, as long as they kept the doors and windows closed, but even illusions could be pretty bad.

But Nimby had an answer for Chlorine to read:  “ “The present local reality must remain as it is, because soon the house will need to travel again, and no one must leave it.

The centaurs will not be here to make it light again.  Modem's local reality is the main force holding back the magic dust.' “

David could see that Chlorine was startled as she heard herself read that.  “You mean Modem's doing more than just keeping the lightness lasting and the inside big?” Then she read the next answer, already in her hand.  “ 'Yes.  His magic reality preempts the malicious magic fostered by the dust.' “

“It does?” Modem asked, surprised.

“I guess your magic is more potent than you know,” Dad said, with a typical Dad smile.

“ 'It is,' “ Chlorine read, “ 'Because the magic dust is enhancing it.  Thus the dust of madness has the ironic effect of canceling itself, in this limited instance.' “

“Gee,” Modem said, pleased.

David was, of course, too good a person to be jealous of the importance of anybody else's role, but he did experience a certain discomfort that an ignorant person might choose to interpret as jealousy.  So he mentioned a legitimate concern.  “If the RV, uh, house stays light, won't it just blow away, like Dad says?”

“As Dad says,” Mom said in her obnoxious English teacher way.  He had tried to break her of that, but without much success.  Parents were slow learners.

But this time fat Adam had an answer.  “I can assume the properties of Xanth's heaviest rock, and be ballast.”

“You can?” Keaira asked, evidently impressed.

“Oh, sure,” Adam said.  “When I'm cloud-light, I'm like a fat balloon.  When I'm fruity, I'm like a fat apple.

When I'm solid, I'm like a fat boulder.  That's why folk don't like me.”

“I think it's a great talent,” Keaira said.

“You do?  I think your talent is the greatest.  You can be always in sunshine, or have it rain when you want it to.”

Keaira blushed.  “Thank you.”

“You mean you care what I think, even though I'm fat as a pumpkin?”

“Fat pumpkins are the handsomest,” she said, still blushing.

This was getting disgusting.  Time to break it up before they actually got mushy.  “Well, let's get busy,” David said.  “Who rides who?”

“Who rides whom,” Mom said.

David ignored it, as he would any other crude remark.

“Which bare-boobed filly is mine?”

“David!” Mom exclaimed, as Karen stifled a titter.

“Sorry,” he said.  “Which bare-boobed centaur?”

Mom looked as if she has swallowed a poop-flavored prune, but this time she held her tongue.  Good.  Maybe he had made his point.  Of course, there'd be bleep to pay when she finally got him alone at home, but maybe she'd forget by then.

Chlorine read her next note.  “ 'Chena.  She thinks you're cute.' “

David was flabbergasted.  “She does?”

Nimby nodded.  He should know, since he could read minds.  No wonder he knew David would enjoy the ride!

Meanwhile Mom looked as if her prune had turned into a stink horn, but again she stifled her comment.

“And take some reverse wood,” Chlorine read.  So they made two small bundles of two sticks each, and David took one while Keaira took the other.  They were bound together by duct tape so they wouldn't come apart accidentally, but of course, they could be ripped apart if they were needed.  Then whatever threat they encountered would be reversed.  “ 'But use the wood only in an emergency,'” Chlorine read, “ 'because it will nullify the centaurs too, reversing their magic lightness.' “.

For sure!  If David had to use his wood, he'd strip the tape to prime it, then hurl it like a grenade.  Then it would affect only what he threw it at.  He could make like Superman, nulling enemies galore.  Pow!  You 're reversed!  He tucked the bound sticks into his belt.

They got out of the RV.  All except Adam, who looked out just long enough to spy a solid metallic rock.  Then he assumed the qualities of that rock, and became hard and heavy.  Keaira tapped her knuckle against his shoulder, verifying it, almost skinned a joint, and smiled with acknowledgment.  Adam looked as it he were about to float away despite being boulder-solid.

With Adam's change, the RV was firmly planted, and the two centaurs no longer had to hang tightly on to the ropes.  Chlorine gave the jacket she had been wearing to David, and explained to them what Nimby had written.

“Fine,” Chena said, smiling.  “Get on my back, David.” There was something perky in her attitude, as if she really did find him cute.

He adjusted that jacket, which remained pleasantly warm from its contact with the beautiful woman, and smelled faintly of—of what?  Of a commercial swimming pool.  Of course—chlorine!  The chemical used to purify the water.  Only now it was like perfume.

Dad lifted him up and set him behind Chena's lovely white wings, which were folded but remained a bit out from her body.  Then Dad did the same for Keaira, putting her on Crystal.

“Remember, you are very light,” Chena told him, turning her head and the upper part of her torso so she could look him in the eye.  That meant, unfortunately, that he had to meet her gaze, because he didn't want to give away what he really wanted to peek at.  It was frustrating.  “So you must hold firmly on to my mane.”

“Mane,” he repeated dumbly.  Her hair flowed down from her head, and somewhere became the mane, but he wasn't sure where.

“In front of you.  And try to wrap your legs around my barrel, if they will reach.”

“Barrel.” When she turned back to face the front, he could look—but now nothing was in sight.  That was doubly frustrating.

“Take hold,” she said, as she spread her wings.

Then, finally, he did.  His hands found grips in the shorter hair of her mane at the base of her human portion.

She pumped her wings, and leaped, and sailed into the air.  It seemed remarkably easy, until he remembered that she had made herself almost as light as he was, so that she weighed almost nothing.  The motion of her wings was mainly to move her, rather than to lift her.

But though he could see the full beautiful sweep of those wings, he couldn't see the front of her torso.  Here he thought he would have his best chance yet to peek without obstruction or discovery, and instead it was no chance.

“Bleep!” he muttered.

“You might consider looking across at Crystal,” Chena murmured.

She knew!  Boys were not supposed to blush, but he was afraid he was doing so.  But it was a good suggestion.

“Thanks,” he said, and looked.

He was rewarded by a splendid view.  Crystal's wings were pumping gracefully, and her front was completely open to view.  She was also slightly better endowed than Chena.  In fact—

Then Crystal looked their way, and he had to wrench his gaze away.  He couldn't peek if someone was watching him peek!

So, frustrated anew, he looked around elsewhere.  To the other side was Willow, who flew readily in her dress because it was cut to leave holes for her wings.

Now that they were all airborne.  Willow flew close.  Crystal approached from the other side, so that they could talk to each other.  “Nimby wrote me a note explaining how to do it,” Willow said.  “Happy Bottom is like a giant puzzle, with alternating bands of wind and cloud around her center.

We have to find our way to the center, where her eye is, so David can use his jacket to push it.  Wherever the eye goes, Happy Bottom goes; she can't help it.  So we'll just keep pushing her north to the Region of Air, where Fracto will try to tame her.  The problem will be finding her eye, and staying with it.  She may try some tricks to hide it or move it away from us.  David has to push in the right place, or it won't work, and Keaira has to stay near him so he has calm weather.  I'm the only one who is free to explore.  But if I go outside the fair-weather zone, I'll be in trouble, so you need to stay reasonably close to me while I search.”

“Gotcha,” David said.

“We shall do our best,” Keaira agreed.

Willow flew on ahead.  There was a solid-looking vertical wall of cloud, moving rapidly from west to east.  It reached down almost to the ground, and up almost to the top of the sky.  “Boy, she's a big b—bleep,” David said, awed.  He knew Happy Bottom was a hurricane now, even if she had been a mere tropical storm when she entered Xanth; she had intensified.  “Can one little jacket move all that?”

“The center is much smaller,” Chena said.  “And calmer.  Nimby says.”

“Oh.  That should make it easier.” But he wasn't quite sure it was so.

Willow flew back.  “There's a hole in the wall!” she cried, excited.  “Maybe we can get through it.”

“Can't Keaira make it calm wherever we go?” David asked.  “So we don't need to look for holes?”

“Perhaps,” Willow said.  “But it's better to go in without disturbing the ill wind's cloud banks, so she doesn't notice us.  The moment she becomes aware of us, she could start fighting us.”

“But she's just a storm!” he protested.

“So is Fracto,” Chena reminded him.

“Oh, yeah.” Here in Xanth even inanimate things had awareness.  It was certainly better not to make Happy Bottom aware of them.

So the two centaurs followed Willow through the fleeting gap in the clouds.  It closed in after them; they had made it just in time.  Now they were between two walls of cloud, and the one ahead was moving faster than the one behind.

David remembered something about hurricanes, because he had seen their patterns shown on Miami radar.  They alternated cloud bands with air bands, and most of the action was in the cloud bands.  They got smaller toward the center, but also fiercer.  “If we just keep going straight through them,” he said, “we'll find the center.  We can't help it.  There's nowhere else it can be.”

“I hope so,” Chena said doubtfully.  “It can be hard to tell direction, in the middle of fog and rain.”

For sure!  But soon another gap opened up ahead.  They plunged through it.  But this one closed up before they completed their passage, and suddenly they were caught in grayness.  Keaira's controlled weather kept the winds from them, but rain sluiced down from above, drenching them.

He heard the rain pelting the centaur's wings, and Chena dipped until she flicked herself and resumed level flight.