Knot Gneiss Page 2

  During their distraction, Wenda quietly made her way past them and out the far gate. She had found her way past the second Challenge. But she was sorry she had not been able to interact more positively with the children.

  “Two down,” she murmured with satisfaction.

  The path entered a kind of corral with an unpleasant smell. Wenda recognized it immediately, because it was of a forest creature: skunk. But she didn’t see any such creature there. There was only a central pole. How did that relate?

  Then she caught on. It was another pun. “Pole Cat!”

  Sure enough, the pole shortened and thickened into an odoriferous creature. But it was a lovely cat. This was surely a Challenge, but of what nature?

  She stopped before the cat. “Hello,” she said in mew talk. She knew all the forest dialects, of course. “Are yew my next Challenge?”

  “No,” the cat replied in the same language. “I am the Challenge, not a forest tree.”

  Wenda took stock. The cat had evidently mistaken her word. It was best simply to explain. “I am a forest creature, or I was before I married Prince Charming. I speak the forest way; I can knot help it, regardless of the dialect. I said Why Oh Yew, yew. Yew heard a tree. I wood speak the other way if I could, but I can knot.”

  The cat considered. “Now I understand. I apologize for my confusion. Let’s introduce ourselves. I am Pollyanna Polecat, Polly for short, and my talent is making others stink. That’s why I’m not popular.”

  “I am Wenda Woodwife. Or at least I was before I married and got real.”

  “Ah, that’s why you have a backside.”

  “Yes. I filled out behind when I won the love of a real man, Prince Charming. I dew knot have a talent, being of magical origin myself.”

  “I beg to differ,” Polly mewed. “You surely have a talent, or are developing one, from the time you got real. That’s how it works.”

  “Oh, I dew knot think so. I wood have noticed.”

  “Not necessarily. You must have a good one, at least potentially. The Good Magician has serious plans for you. He wants you to win through and ask your Question.”

  “He does?” Wenda asked, amazed. “I am just a regular girl now, with a simple question. I will probably have to serve as a scullery maid for a year.”

  Polly shook her head. “I doubt it. But you will surely find out for yourself.”

  “I suppose so,” Wenda agreed. “But yew say yew are the Challenge. How is that?”

  “My talent. I hate it. It ruins my social life. I came to ask the Good Magician how to fix it, but he wouldn’t answer.”

  “He wood knot answer?” Wenda asked, surprised.

  “He said he couldn’t use a smelly cat. Instead he made me a deal: serve for a single Challenge, where I might get my Answer without having to serve any more time. So naturally I agreed. And here I am.”

  “I dew knot understand.”

  “Just as your special words are inherent, so is my talent. The moment I get frightened or upset, I stink my companion. It’s a reflex. It makes it impossible to keep companions. Find me a way to nullify it, so I can maybe find me a tomcat who can stand me, and yowl happily ever after. That is your Challenge.”

  “That wood bee easy. Yew can use reverse wood to convert the stink to perfume.”

  Polly glanced at her. “There is something odd about the way you said that.”

  Wenda smiled. “Sometimes when I say ‘wood’ it really is wood. I always say ‘wood.’”

  “Oh. Yes. That’s it. But I tried reverse wood. It doesn’t work.”

  “It does knot work? But it reverses anything.”

  “It reverses in different ways. If I’m in cat form, it reverses me to pole form. If I’m in pole form, it makes me be cat form. In fact it keeps switching me back and forth. So I can’t use it.”

  “Oh, I see. I never had that problem. Let me think.” Wenda pondered. How could she get reverse wood to reverse the way it was needed? “There are different varieties of reverse wood. Maybee yew need to try others, until yew find one that reverses the right way.”

  “I’ve tried them all. None were right.”

  Wenda looked around. There in the corner of the corral was a little pile of wood chips. Reverse wood—she could instantly identify any kind of wood. The only reason for it to be here was because it was the answer. She just had to discover how it was the answer.

  She went to pick up a chip. She had no concern about doing so because it was, after all, wood, and she could handle wood of any type. It simply didn’t affect her.

  She sorted through the pile, sensing the nature of the chips. Each was from a different tree, with its own flavor. One was subtly dissimilar. “I think yew missed this one,” she said. “Try it now.”

  “It won’t work,” Polly said dispiritedly. But she took the chip in her mouth, holding it in her cheek.

  “Now stink me.”

  “But you won’t like that. It will take hours for it to wear off.”

  “Dew it anyway.”

  So Polly let fly with a stink. It wasn’t a physical thing, but a feeling. She was supposed to feel stinky.

  She didn’t. She felt perfumed.

  Polly sniffed. “You smell good!”

  “Yes. Yew are reversed.”

  “But how—?”

  “I found the different chip. That’s all it took.”

  “But I tried all of them! None worked.”

  Wenda shrugged. “This one works. Now yew can go court a bold tom.”

  “Yes, I can!” Polly exclaimed. “Thank you, thank you! You have saved me and won the Challenge.”

  “Yew are welcome.” Wenda was pleased, though she did not think she had done much. Wood was her medium; sorting chips had been almost too easy. Maybe the Good Magician really did want her to win through. But why? What possible mission could he have in mind for her, that someone else couldn’t do better?

  She exited the corral. Three down.

  She had reached the moat, and the drawbridge leading to the castle. There stood Wira, the Good Magician’s favored daughter-in-law. “Welcome back, Wenda,” she said. “I’m so glad to see you.” That was literal, because though Wira had been blind most of her life, now she could see.

  “Yew just like girls with W names,” Wenda said, smiling.

  “That must be it,” Wira agreed. “This way, please; the Good Magician is expecting you.”

  Obviously true. “May I ask a question?” Wenda asked as they walked across the bridge.

  “About the relevance of the Challenges? Of course.”

  “That robot with the printed pun names—”

  “For this mission you need to be inventive. The Good Magician wasn’t sure how well you could think outside the box, because for most of your existence you lacked a brain.”

  “My head was hollow,” Wenda agreed without annoyance.

  “So it seemed that you just had to guess the puns in the names, but actually you needed to see beyond that. To change the rules, as it were. You did.”

  “I did,” Wenda agreed. She had been half afraid she had cheated. “And the quarreling children?”

  “More outside-box thinking. But also, the swing.”

  “The swing? It was dull. No wonder the children did knot bother with it.”

  “The swing at your castle is different.”

  “It does feel different. But how does that relate?”

  “It’s a Mood Swing. It changes your moods every time you swing on it. That’s why you became so changeable.”

  Wenda’s pretty mouth dropped open. “That’s why! I never suspected!”

  “You hadn’t had experience with regular swings before, so you didn’t know the difference.”

  “But that means all I have to dew is knot swing on it. Here I’ve come for an Answer that will cost me a year’s service, when I could have figured it out myself.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I have knot even asked my Question of the Good Magician yet. I coul
d just go home now, and avoid the service.”

  “Yes.”

  Wenda looked at her, realizing that something more complicated was afoot. “Yew would never make a mistake like that, Wira. Yew told me deliberately. Why?”

  “Because it’s a truly challenging and dangerous mission that only you can accomplish, and it would take you away from your husband for a long time. It seems unfair to inflict it on you, for such a simple Answer.”

  “So yew are messing up the Good Magician’s plan? I dew knot believe that either.”

  “He told me to tell you,” Wira confessed.

  “Why?”

  “Because this mission has to be voluntary. You have to want to do it, and nobody with any sense would want to. So you are free to go home now.”

  That was too much for Wenda to assimilate at the moment, so she reverted to the subject. “And the third Challenge?”

  “That relates to your developing talent, which makes you uniquely qualified for this particular mission.”

  “What talent?”

  “The talent of working with reverse wood.”

  “But all I did was sort through the chips and find the one the Pole Cat needed. I understand wood, having derived from wood myself.”

  “No.”

  Surprised, Wenda looked at her. “I dew knot think I’ve ever heard you say that word before.”

  Wira laughed. “You do understand wood, and that’s important. But you did not merely sort the chips. Every chip of reverse wood has the capacity to reverse several ways. You fixed that selection, locking that chip into the manner you desired. That’s your magic: to guide reverse wood. When you did that, we knew you qualified.”

  “Qualified for what?”

  “The Good Magician will tell you. Remember, you have the right to decline. I recommend that you do.”

  Wenda shook her head. “I dew knot think that would bee fair. Yew gave me my Answer.”

  “Well, listen to what he says, then decide.”

  “I will dew that,” Wenda agreed.

  They entered the Castle Proper and came to a central courtyard. There was a lovely woman in overalls and gloves, with a bandanna on her hair. She wore a necklace of Rose quartz, with the quartz-sized beads alternating with pintz-sized beads. She was evidently the Magician’s Designated Wife of the month. He had five and a half wives, but wasn’t allowed to have more than one with him at a time, so they took monthly turns. “Rose of Roogna, this is Wenda Woodwife Charming,” Wira said.

  “Oh, I’m delighted to meet you,” Rose said. “You surely understand plants.”

  “I understand wood, anyway,” Wenda agreed cautiously. “And many of the plants of the forest.” She had heard of Rose, who had lived for centuries in Castle Roogna, until marrying the Good Magician. She grew magic roses.

  “That should be close enough. My world is roses, but I have encountered one I do not understand. Maybe you can help.”

  “I doubt I could tell yew anything about roses.”

  “Oh, I simply love the way you speak! It’s so woodsy. Here is the rose.” She showed a lovely plant with a single large red rose with blue polka dots. “I received it from a goblin who found it deep underground. I can’t make it grow, and fear it will die before I can clone it.”

  Wenda saw the problem instantly. “That’s knot a rose,” she said. “It’s carved wood, magically animated to resemble a rose.”

  “Oh!” Rose exclaimed, amazed. “It certainly fooled me.”

  “I think there’s an acceptance spell on it, so that people are dissuaded from questioning it. But I can knot be fooled by wood. That’s cut wood, so it will never grow. That goblin is playing an unkind joke on yew.”

  Rose considered. “Goblins do malicious things. I should have realized. Thank you, dear. I hope my husband can help you as much as you have helped me.”

  Wira reappeared, which was mildly startling because Wenda had not realized she had departed. “The Good Magician will see you now.”

  Wenda followed Wira up the dark winding stone stairway to the Good Magician’s dingy office. “Good Magician, here is Princess Wenda Woodwife Charming.”

  The gnomelike figure looked grudgingly up from his huge tome. “Thank you, Wira.” Then he focused on Wenda. “What, back again, wood nymph?”

  Wenda smiled. He was having his little joke. “Yew saw me coming, Magician. Yew even gave me my Answer in advance, so I could escape the year’s service. Yew surely have a reason, unless yew are becoming forgetful in yewr dotage.”

  He did something astonishing. He laughed. Then he got serious. “The service is to fetch an object and bring it here. Unfortunately it is a difficult object that others can’t readily handle. You will find it a challenge too. It is too bad we don’t have the man with the talent of Ease.”

  “Ease?”

  “Anything he tried became easy. But we had nothing for him, and let him go. Then we learned of this difficult chore. I do not like to admit mistakes, but that was a bad one. He could have fetched the object without difficulty. It will not be easy for you, but it will be possible.”

  Wenda was cautious, having been forewarned. “What kind of object?”

  “It is a knot of petrified reverse wood, buried for centuries, that was exposed when a new crack opened from the Gap Chasm. It terrifies anyone who approaches it. It must be taken to safekeeping before it falls into the wrong hands.”

  Naturally petrified wood would frighten people. “But if no one dares approach it, how can wrong hands get it? And what could they dew with it?”

  “Goblins could rope it from a distance, or drop stones on it to chip flakes away, which they could carry at the ends of long poles, and fling into neighboring villages to terrify the inhabitants, making them easy to rob, rape, or kill.”

  “How could I approach it, to carry it? I am knot brave. I wood bee as frightened as anyone.”

  “Not so. I remind you that this is petrified reverse wood. It has changed its nature, and now frightens rather than reverses, but you would relate to its fundamental nature. It will not affect you.”

  “Oh. Then I could carry it quickly here, before the goblins learn of it.”

  “No.”

  “I dew knot understand. Why woodn’t I carry it?”

  “Because it weighs, in Mundane terms, about a hundred and fifty pounds. You could not lift it, let alone carry it. You will have to use a wagon.”

  She was beginning to get a notion of the challenge of it. “Still, if I had a wagon—”

  “The intervening terrain is rough. You would have to navigate the wagon through the Gap Chasm, bring it to ground level, then haul it through trackless jungle. Goblins and others would catch on long before you completed the mission.”

  Wenda made a sudden decision. “I’ll dew it. Give me the wagon and the address.”

  “You are aware that you don’t actually have to do it? You haven’t asked your Question, and I have not Answered.”

  “It needs to bee done.”

  “Then we shall have to do something about your accent, so you can be anonymous. Wira will delve in the cellar and give you a potion to eliminate it.”

  “A potion will dew that?”

  “Yes. It will cause you to say ‘do’ instead of ‘dew,’ for example. We got it from a couple who needed a favor, GenEric and GenErica.”

  “Who?”

  “A boy and girl who had the talent of substituting things that would still do the job. In this case, it will make you substitute other words that will suffice, even though they are not the original ones.”

  “Substitutions will make me anonymous?”

  “Yes, essentially. Your forest accent is a giveaway to your nature. Then no one need know your identity, unless you tell them.”

  “But why wood I need to bee anonymous? I am already thoroughly unknown.”

  “Less so than you might think. For one thing, you’re a princess, ever since you married Prince Charming. People notice princesses. For another, you were
part of the party that repaired the gravity cable from Mundania. There are those who remember. For this purpose, you must become an anonymous protagonist.”

  “A what?”

  “A person at the center of a narrative. A viewpoint character. One who sees what is happening, without necessarily governing it.”

  That was still too complicated for her to comprehend. But at that point Wira reappeared. “Here is the potion.”

  Wenda didn’t wait. She took it and drank it. It tasted like thickened water, and had no apparent effect. “I do not think it’s working,” she said. Then paused, startled. Then tried again, using more of her words. “I would not do that to you. It would not be fair.”

  The Good Magician nodded. She was ready for the mission. At least in this respect.

  2

  COMPANIONS

  Wenda petaled her bike along the enchanted path toward the dread Gap Chasm. She had a compass the Good Magician had lent her that pointed toward the Knot. She planned to go find it, then decide how to move it. The Good Magician said the wagon would be there when she needed it, and she trusted that.

  Several people came running toward her, along the path. She drew the bicycle aside to let them pass. They looked distressed, as if fleeing something. But what would they have to flee, on an enchanted path? It was guaranteed safe.

  So she asked a woman as she ran by. “What are you running from?” It still surprised her to hear herself say “you” instead of “yew.”

  “The flees!” the woman gasped as she fled onward.

  This did not seem to make a lot of sense. “What are you running to?” she asked the next man.

  “The Isle of Cats and Dogs,” he puffed as he went by.

  This still did not clarify it much.

  “What’s at the Isle of Cats and Dogs?” she asked the next person.

  “Flee bags!” she responded in the breeze of her passage.

  Wenda finally put it together. Flees must be bugs that made people run away, even if there was no life-threatening danger, and they could be stopped by flee bags. It was another of the dreadful puns Xanth was made of.