Jumper Cable (9 page)

“That’s odd,” Olive said. “Normally all three Challenges are quite different.”

“This time it’s not the Challenges, but the people who are different,”

Phanta said.

That seemed to be it. They moved on.

They came to a donkey who was busy counting things. When it saw them, it counted them. “Five maidens and a big spider,” it said. “So it shall be noted.”

“What are you?” Phanta asked.

“A census burro, of course.”

Now there was more than one groan.

They came to a clumsy bird flapping around at the edge of the moat.

“What are you?” Phanta asked.

“Awk!” the bird exclaimed.

“I asked, what kind of creature are you?” Phanta repeated.

“And I told you,” the bird said. “I am an awkward.”

“A clumsy auk,” Maeve said, making a face.

They didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. None of these creatures seemed likely to help them get beyond the wall. An odd metal craft floated by on the moat. It lifted a metal arm to wave. “He-low, strangers,” it called metallically.

“Oh, for bl**p’s sake,” Haughty said, disgusted. “It’s a ro-boat, a floating robot. It could have carried us across.”

“Had we just found it,” Olive agreed.

“But it won’t help us with the wall,” Phanta said.

“We can spot puns forever,” Wenda said. “But my suspicion is growing that knot one of them wood help.”

“What are you saying?” Maeve asked.

“That we need to try something else.”

Then a bulb flashed over Phanta’s head. “Maybe we need to change the rules.”

“And what are yew saying?” Wenda demanded.

“I am saying that maybe we should stop finding puns we encounter, and start defining puns we can use. Ones that will help us.”

“Like what?”

“I do not know,” the ghost woman confessed. “But there must be something.”

That gave Jumper an idea. “Could there be a wall pun? Like a wall flower, or—” A lightbulb flashed over his head.

“What is it?” Phanta asked.

Jumper passed two of his legs across the surface of the wall. He found a shape. “A wall-rus!” he exclaimed.

The wall made a honking sound. A shape came out of it, a massive creature with flippers, a fishy tail, and two huge tusks. It plunged into the water. The wall-rus.

And it left a wall-rus–shaped hole in the wall, big enough for them to pass through. They had found the key.

They stepped through the gap. Jumper was the last. He was larger than the hole, but as a spider he was malleable, and he was able to squeeze through without discomfort.

They stood inside the wall, and inside the Good Magician’s Castle. They had navigated the third Challenge.

Hello, friends.” It was a woman they had not seen before, standing in shadows.

“Hello,” Jumper replied politely. “We have come to see the Good Magician.”

“Of course. I am Wira, his daughter-in-law. I will take you to him now.” She turned and led the way farther into the castle. Just like that, they were succeeding.

“Don’t you want to know who we are?” Olive asked somewhat plaintively.

“I already know you, Olive Hue. You and your friends have been expected.”

This ruffled Haughty. “Then why did you put us through those bl**ping Challenges?”

“This is protocol, Haughty,” Wira replied mildly. “The Good Magician needed to be sure your group had the required qualities for the mission he has in mind. Had you been balked, or given up, he would have known you were not.”

“Guessing stupid puns?” Phanta demanded.

“Assessing a situation and discovering its solution, Phanta,” Wira said. “We regret that more varied Challenges were not available at this

time; the Magician has to make do with what he has on hand. The querists largely select themselves, you see, as you did.”

“We just want to get our separate problems dealt with,” Maeve said.

“It’s largely by accident that we formed a group.”

“So it seems, Maeve. But perhaps it was fate. I wonder whether the fact that you are five winsome females and one rough male is really coincidence.”

“Yew can wonder, but we wood knot believe it.”

“Perhaps you will, in time, Wenda.” They entered a nicely lit room.

“Here is Humfrey’s Designated Wife, MareAnn.”

“Half Wife,” the woman said. She was about twenty-five and looked vaguely like a horse lover.

“Actually I’m 166, the same age as Magician Humfrey,” she said.

“Don’t look startled, Jumper; I’m not a mind reader. It’s just that I get this reaction a lot. We wives are spelled to maintain our ideal ages. In real life we’d all be long since dead. It’s a perquisite of working with the Magician of Information.”

“Yew dew knot look like half a woman,” Wenda said. “I look like that.”

“I am a half wife, not a half woman,” MareAnn said. “I was Humfrey’s first love, but for reasons which seem trivial in retrospect I elected not to marry him until much later, by which time his quota was almost used up. I take my full month’s turn, as do the other wives. That spreads out the burden.”

“Burden?” Olive asked.

“He is not the easiest man to live with. He does get grumpy.”

“I wood settle for a grumpy man, if he loved me,” Wenda said wistfully.

“Perhaps that will be the case,” MareAnn said. “Have some horse chestnuts.” She proffered a plate.

“They won’t make us hoarse?” Phanta asked.

MareAnn laughed. “No, these are merely nuts in the shape of horses, from my chest of nuts.”

They nibbled on nuts, making small to middle-sized talk. Wira had disappeared.

Then Wira reappeared. “The Good Magician will see you now,” she said. “In the courtyard.”

“Knot in his office?” Wenda asked.

“The party wouldn’t fit. The courtyard is much nicer anyway. This way, please.”

They followed her there. She was right: the courtyard was pleasant, with paths winding through flower gardens. “The Magician must like flowers,” Wenda said appreciatively.

“He hardly notices them,” Wira said. “The wives and I like flowers.”

“Wives and querists can be a pain in the *,” a gnomish little old man grumped, appearing ahead of them.

“In the what?” Olive asked.

“Asterisk,” Maeve murmured. “Emphasis on the donkey.”

“Good Magician, meet Maeve Maenad,” Wira said.

“A maenad with a mind?” Humfrey asked. “Ludicrous.”

“See, he likes you already,” Wira murmured, preempting Maeve’s furious retort.

“Well, I’m not sure I like him. He—”

“What is your problem, maenad?” Humfrey demanded. Maeve opened her mouth. A wisp of steam came out and her wax teeth started to melt. She had learned to talk with them in, but there were limits.

“He means what brought you here,” Wira said. “Your Question.”

Oh. “I need to escape the stork. I was tricked into sending a signal, and—”

“And yours, woodwife?” he asked curtly.

“I want to bee a whole woman, so I can have a normal—”

“Yours?” he asked Haughty.

“I need to get rid of my nightly alter ego, Hottie.”

The Magician turned to Olive. “Yours?”

“I want to be able to keep my imaginary friends.”

He turned to Phanta. “Yours?”

“To be able to control my ghostly state.”

“And yours, spider?”

“I want to go home.”

“All will be granted. There will be a price.”

“A year’s ser vice,” Olive said.

“A mission. All of you will participate. Agreed?”

“H**l no!” Haughty said. “I have other business to attend to.”

“So do I,” Phanta said. “These are nice people, but this is a temporary association.”

“Ad hoc,” Olive agreed.

“For this purpose only,” Maeve translated. “Getting to this castle.”

“But we have to serve for the Answer, or he might knot solve our problems,” Wenda reminded them. “We might as well serve together.”

“First we need to know the mission,” Jumper said.

“Background,” the Magician said grumpily. “The Demon Pluto lost a Demon bet and lost so much status he was reduced to a Dwarf Demon, no longer considered parallel to the others. He was so angry that he hurled himself madly about and crashed into the cable connecting the Mundane Internet with the magical Outernet, severing it. Now there is no contact between the two, and folk are getting annoyed. It is imperative that it be restored. But it will not be easy to repair. Only someone with the ability to span both magical and mundane realms can do it, by first drawing the several portions together, then reconnecting them. That is you, Jumper.”

Jumper jumped, surprised. “Me!”

“Half your legs are positive, and half are negative, so you can straddle the Internet and Outernet without getting fried. That is why you must do this job. When you accomplish it, the flux that hooked you out of your realm will be abated, and you will be able return to it at will.”

“That makes sense,” Jumper said.

“But what about us?” Haughty demanded. “We’re not spiders, and we have nothing to do with Demons, whether dwarf or otherwise. In fact, it might be dangerous to mess with one.” The others nodded in agreement.

“More background,” the Magician grumped. “There is a suspicion that the crash into the cable was not entirely accidental. Pluto may have taken it out in a fit of rage, or worse, cunning.”

“Cunning?” Haughty asked.

“He may have been embarrassed by his demotion, so he severed the cable to prevent news from circulating. It is already known in Mundania, but not yet in Xanth. He is pretending to remain a full-status Demon. Repairing the cable would enable the news of his humiliation to get through to Xanth. So he may wish to prevent the cable from being repaired.”

“And he’ll chew up anyone who tries,” Maeve said, picking right up on the violent aspect.

“And even a Dwarf Demon is still a lot more than any mortal creature can handle,” Olive said. “So it will be dangerous.”

“All the more reason for us knot to participate,” Wenda said.

“Jumper will not be able to do it alone,” the Magician said. “That is why he will need a supportive group.”

“But we’re no such group!” Phanta protested. “We’re just innocent helpless maidens.”

“With your help, it is possible,” the Magician said.

“How do you know this?” Maeve demanded.

The Magician looked down his nose at her. This was a nice effect, because the maenad stood half again as tall as the gnome. “I am the Magician of Information.”

“But you’re up against a Demon,” Olive said cannily. “They don’t follow mortal rules.”

“Precisely, maiden. Therefore I rely on the Prophecy that covers this situation.”

“Prophecy?”

“The one Jumper carries with him. I believe it implies that he should emulate the Ogre.”

“It doesn’t say that,” Jumper protested.

“It says in part, ‘Like the ogre.’ Because there is Demon involvement I am not sure, but resembling the ogre seems indicated.”

“I’m a spider, not an ogre!”

“You can, however, emulate his situation or action.”

“What kind of a Prophecy is that?” Maeve demanded. “It’s just confusing advice. We don’t even know which ogre.”

“There is only one ogre who ever did anything notable,” the Magician

said. “Because ogres are justly proud of their strength, ugliness, and stupidity. That is Smash Ogre, who through a fluke of parentage was not sufficiently stupid, and thus managed to accomplish something. He actually won the respect of the Night Stallion, the lord of the dream realm. He has to be the one.”

“I’ve heard of him,” Olive said. “But he’s old.”

“He is sixty-five years old,” the Magician agreed. “But still alive. Your first step will be to visit him and find out what to emulate. Then do so. This will enable the group of you to accomplish the mission.”

“If we survive the Demon,” Olive said. “It’s not worth it.”

“You will have a basis to judge whether it is worth it,” the Magician said. “I have arranged for the temporary solutions.” He lifted a box containing six small vials. “Each of you will drink one potion, and your problems will be solved for the duration of the mission. When you accomplish it, the solutions may become permanent. If you do not, they will dissipate, and you will face the same fates you do at present.”

“You are saying,” Haughty said, canny in her turn, “that we can start the mission, but opt out any time if we change our minds?”

“I am saying that,” the Magician agreed. “However—”

“There’s always a however,” Olive murmured.

“—not only will you lose your solution, you will cause the others to lose theirs, because only the complete party can accomplish the mission.”

“The others wood knot like that,” Wenda said.

“What could they do about it?” Phanta asked.

“We could tear you apart,” Maeve said, removing her wax teeth to show her points.

“Not if I turned ghostly,” Phanta said.

“Not if I flew away,” Haughty said.

“Not if I bit your head off,” Jumper said.

“Not if I imagined a dragon friend to protect me,” Olive said. Wenda was troubled. “I dew knot want to dew any of those things. I just want to bee a real woman instead of a hollow shell.”

There was a brief embarrassed silence. “We were just discussing it,”

Olive said after half a moment. “We’re not thinking of doing it.”

“Then it seems the mission is on,” Jumper said.

“Take your solutions,” the Magician said. “Then I will fill you in on the details.”

“Details?” Haughty asked suspiciously. “I don’t trust this.”

“Mainly that there will be two additions to your group, to match the number in the ogre’s original group, in case that is the nature of the emulation. You must maintain that number throughout, because the auspices indicate that only the complete group of eight can succeed in accomplishing the mission.” The Magician frowned. “I repeat: it is imperative that the mission be accomplished.”

“Additions?” Olive asked.

“Two more girls.”

A glance circled around one and a half times. “Girls are harmless,”

Phanta said.

“As long as they do their part,” Olive said.

Maeve cut to the chase. “Who?”