Cube Route (6 page)

    “I have not committed to anything,” Karia said as she landed and folded her wings. “I hope you are not in trouble.”

    “You came because you feared I was in trouble? I may be, but not because of any immediate threat. I made it in to see the Good Magician, and he gave me a mission, but I don't know how to proceed with it.”

    “You made it in! I envy you.”

    “I think I have a stronger stomach for puns.”

    “That must be it,” the centaur agreed, smiling. “Meanwhile I regret to say that I seem to have lost the mirror you gave me after all.”

    “I'm sorry. It seems I can't give it away.”

    “What is the mission?”

    “That's awkward. You see, I can't tell you about it unless you join it, because it's supposed to be secret.”

    “I certainly won't join something blindly,” Karia said. “Centaurs are known for logic, not gambling.”

    “Yes, and I need a logical mind, because I'm not sure mine is up to it. I also need nine Companions, and all I have so far is one.”

    “Nine! Have you any idea how to get them?”

    “Very little. Except that he told me they would be suitably rewarded.”

    “Rewarded? In what manner?”

    “He didn't say.”

    The centaur shook her head. “We appear to be at an impasse. You can't tell me about it unless I commit, and I can't commit until I know about it, if then.”

    Cube hadn't anticipated this problem. That of course showed why she needed a good mind along. She wished for the moment that she had the ability of one of the louts in her home village, who could see from any part of his body. He had many points of view. That might enable her to get a different perspective. Then a bulb flashed brightly over her head.

    “I saw that,” Karia said. “You just had a bright idea.”

    “Yes. A logical idea. Let me try it on you.”

    The centaur shrugged, her front moving in a fashion Cube envied. Her own front would never bounce or ripple like that. “Let me have it.”

    “You were probably the person going to see the Good Magician before me. The questioner.”

    “The querent.”

    “Querent?”

    “A person who queries.”

    “Oh. Yes. You were the querent right before me, only you didn't get through, so then I was the next.”

    “True.”

    “So maybe there was just one mission, and whoever came with a Question would get it, in return for her Answer.”

    “That seems likely.”

    “The Good Magician told me that when I completed the mission, I would be beautiful. That I would get what I wanted.”

    “That is the normal course,” the centaur agreed, not quite evincing impatience at this rehearsal of the obvious.

    “But if you had made made it through, it would have been your mission.”

    “Agreed.” Karia was polite, but her tail was switching restlessly, causing little clouds of lightened dust to rise.

    “And maybe your problem would have been solved at the end of it.”

    “Perhaps.”

    “The Good Magician didn't tell me he would make me beautiful after I accomplished the mission. He told me I would be beautiful. My impression was that it would happen when I got there.”

    “The Good Magician's Services often do work out that way.” Now her mane was wavering, as her impatience worked its way forward.

    “So if you had done it, your problem would have been solved right there. Not because you had completed your Service, but because that is where the solution is.”

    Karia paused a third of a moment. “That is an arguable case.”

    “So if you go there now, you may after all have your Answer, despite not seeing the Good Magician. And that might be your reward for participating.”

    “That is by no means certain, but by no means uncertain. Perhaps there is an even chance.” Then the centaur made her decision. “I will join you. If you are correct, I will have my desire, and if you are incorrect I will still have what may be an excellent adventure.”

    “Wonderful! Now I can tell you all about it.” She proceeded to do that, and Karia listened and nodded.

    “Counter Xanth. Things are surely different there, and perhaps the laws of magic differ, so that our liabilities differ too. That might indeed cure me. In any event, it should be a remarkable experience.”

    “Only it seems I have to go there alone,” Cube said. “I wonder why I need Companions, when they aren't supposed to travel with me. That is, openly.”

    “I can answer that. In any trip there are likely to be occasions where a single traveler is balked or in danger. For example, you may encounter a crevasse you can't safely cross. Then you would bring me out of the pouch, and I would fly you across. You would do it when no one was observing, so my presence would not be advertised. Similarly, there may be tasks the others can perform at need, inconspicuously. We do not need to be traveling openly with you to be effective aids to your progress.”

    “That must be it. You make it so clear.”

    “I would be less than a proper centaur if I did not reason and express myself clearly.”

    “I am glad to have you along,” Cube said. “That leaves me only seven more to find, to make up the nine.”

    “Nine? That's interesting. That's the square of three. It must have significance.”

    “It must,” Cube agreed, seeing it. “Now if only--” She cut that off.

    “If only?”

    “No need to bother you with it.”

    “Is it relevant to the Quest?”

    “Not really.”

    “Allow me to be the judge of that.”

    “All right. It's that I had hoped to recruit another person, a man I met just before I met you, but I can't.”

    “A man. You are attracted to him?”

    “Does it show?”

    “Yes. A faint little heart leaked from you when you mentioned him. But he lacks interest in you?”

    “Yes. Because--”

    “I understand. That is why you want to be beautiful.”

    “Yes. Actually I wanted to be beautiful before I met him, but he added to the desire.”

    “There are other qualities than physical appearance.”

    “That men notice?”

    Karia nodded. “Point taken. Still, there are other reasons to undertake this Quest, as I have just learned. They should be sufficient to enlist him also.”

    “The demoness Metria asked him, and he asked if I was beautiful yet. That was answer enough.”

    “Perhaps not. It is true that men are governed mostly by appearance, but there is a mitigating factor here.”

    “There is?”

    “If you succeed in the Quest, you will be beautiful. He might want to be present for the occasion.”

    “I hadn't thought of that! Maybe he would.”

    “So I suggest we make an effort to recruit him, and perhaps in due course you will have your beauty and your man.”

    “It's a dream.”

    “Where is he?”

    “He said that everybody knew him in his area, but I'm not sure what his area is.”

    “The demoness Metria knows, however, since she spoke with him.”

    “That's right. I'll bring her out and ask her.”

    Cube brought out the pouch and reached in. “Metria.”

    A smoky-feeling hand caught hers. She drew it out, and in a fraction of a moment the demoness was with them. “But I just went in,” she said. “Why did you bring me out immediately?”

    “It has been several hours,” Cube said.

    “Impossible!”

    “Consider the position of the sun,” Karia suggested.

    “What are you doing here, horse-rear?” But the demoness looked at the sun. “It's evening!”

    “I joined Cube here, as agreed,” Karia said. “The flight took some time, during which she walked to this campsite. I have joined the Quest.”

    Metria shrugged, her shoulders lifting briefly off her body, then settling back into place. “Time has passed,” she agreed. “So that pouch is timeless. We aren't aware of it.”

    “Interesting point,” the centaur agreed. “So we shall be traveling without effort or loss of time in our awareness. It will seem like instant transport.”

    “Which is fine with me.” Metria faced Cube, her head rotating on her neck to an impossible extent. “So why did you haul me out?”

    “To find Ryver. We're going to try to recruit him after all. Where is he?”

    “I'll show you.” The demoness formed into a butterfly and flew upward.

    “Get on,” Karia said. “I will follow.”

    Cube got on her back and held on as the centaur flicked them both with her tail, lightening them, and leaped into the air. She followed the winged quarter of butter as it flew southward. Soon they were high in the sky.

    “You know, you lightened me before, when we crossed the river,” Cube said. “But I don't remember recovering my weight.”

    “It happens gradually. If you had exercised vigorously immediately after that, you would have sailed off the path.”

    “I'll watch it, after this.”

    A cloud formed ahead of them. “Oh, no,” Karia muttered. “That looks like Fracto.”

    “Like what?”

    “Cumulo Fracto Nimbus, the worst of clouds. All of us flyers know him. Theoretically he's a good cloud now, but you wouldn't know it when you have to get somewhere.”

    The butterfly looped back. “Fracto's playing games,” it said. “We'll have to dive under.”

    “But he'll wet on us,” Karia protested.

    “Not if we fly low enough, fast enough. It takes him time to get organized.”

    They dived down. Fracto saw them and darkened frantically, trying to work up a good rain in time to catch them. But all he could manage on such short notice was a light sprinkle.

    The sun was still shining. This was weather rainbows liked, and sure enough, a long colored bow wriggled up from the forest below and formed into a multi-colored arch. They flew right under it.

    Cube looked up as they passed. “Look! Fish!” Indeed, several pretty fish were swimming in the rainbow.

    “Rainbow trout,” Karia agreed sourly. “A pun.”

    Beyond the rainbow the rain was gone, but the wind was rising. Then more water fell from the cloud, as Fracto scrambled to catch up. “Oh, I don't like this,” Karia said. “I'm reaching my limited tolerance for puns.”

    “What is it?”

    “The winds of change.”

    “But we want a change, to get out of this weather.”

    “Not this way.”

    Then something struck Cube's shirt and dropped to the centaur's back. “That's a coin!” Cube exclaimed, surprised.

    “Many coins,” Karia agreed, as more struck them. Some were small, but some were large, and made brief painful dents. Some were silver, others copper or gold. “Ugh!”

    “Change,” Cube said, catching on. The centaur's exclamation wasn't entirely because the coins stung, but because of the pun. But she decided not to mention that, because puns could not be avoided. “Now I understand why you don't like them. Those sting as they strike.”

    “We had better land,” Karia said.

    “Not here,” the butterfly protested.

    “Why not?” Cube asked. “It looks like a nice quiet valley below.”

    “Because Demoness Pression hangs out there. You wouldn't like her.”

    “D. Pression?” Cube asked. “What's wrong with--oh, no! Depression!”

    “She makes you very sad,” the butterfly agreed.

    “I'll swerve to the side,” Karia said grimly. “So we won't land near her.”

    They avoided the hangout of the demoness and came to a wet landing in the forest.

    Karia glanced around as she shook off a few more clinging coins. “I don't like this.”

    “We'll have to stay on foot until the storm passes,” Cube said. “Where are we? I mean, apart from being on a rounded ridge in a thick forest.”

    “The winds of change did more than dump coins,” Metria said from the air. “They changed our location. Even I don't recognize this neck of the woods.”

    “Neck!” the centaur exclaimed, leaping off the ridge. “Another egregious pun!”

    Cube realized that the ridge did resemble a giant neck. Fortunately it wasn't moving, so whatever huge creature it might belong to was inactive. But there was swamp on either side, and it did not look healthy. “I think we had better stick to the ridge, regardless.”

    A gross bubble rose up through the muck and popped right before them, releasing ugly vapor. Karia had to step back to avoid it. “Ugh.”

    “I think Ryver is in this general direction, south,” Metria said, assuming her normal human form. Her dainty feet did not touch the ground, though when she walked she moved as if they did.

    They followed the ridge south. “Let me get off and walk,” Cube said. “No need to burden you when we're not flying.”

    “I could flick you light again, so there is no burden,” Karia said. “But it would help if you found a way through this thicket.”

    Cube jumped down and went ahead. It was indeed a thicket; there were a number of saplings growing close together. All of them oozed sap, so she avoided them and approached a larger trunk that radiated spoke-like branches. She put her hand on one and it came loose, to her surprise, becoming a suitable walking stick.

    “That's a pole tree,” Metria remarked. “It makes poles.”

    “Ugh,” the centaur repeated. But Cube was intrigued. She looked up, and saw that the general shape of the tree was like a huge chicken. Poultry. Another pun. No wonder Karia disliked it.

    They passed the pole tree and came to another. This one bore jugs on its branches. As Cube approached it swept its branches in what seemed almost like a courtly bow, and lowered a jug to her. It was full of what looked like cider. Surprised, she unscrewed the top and sniffed. It was cider! “Why thank you,” she said, taking a sip. It was excellent.

    “Ugh!” Karia said.

    “A gallon tree,” Metria said, her smirk extending somewhat beyond her face. “With gallons of liquid refreshment.”

    Cube finally caught the pun: gallantry. That was the way it had behaved toward her. She capped the jug and put it in the pouch; it would be good to have cider when she could relax.