Jest Right Page 4

  “Men look funny when they change,” Myst said. “I’ve seen them. All knobby and bony. Not smooth like women.”

  “So let’s not look,” Jess said diplomatically. The two of them turned away.

  “Okay,” he said after maybe two and a half moments.

  They turned back and looked. Magnus was in a form-fitting blue suit that covered him literally from head to toe. It covered his hands and feet, and also his face, with goggles for his eyes and a round snout for his mouth.

  “You look like a blue frog,” Myst said, laughing.

  “Thank you,” he said, his voice tinny. “Now let’s see how it works.” He strode for the pond.

  “But what if it’s porous?” Jess asked, alarmed.

  “It’s not.” He waded on into the pool, “It’s keeping the water out. I don’t feel a thing.”

  Then he disappeared into the water. His head reappeared in a moment. “Deep spot,” he reported, then swam on. Soon he was at the other side, clambering onto the bank.

  The suit worked. “Change and come on across,” Magnus called.

  “I’ll use a suit, tow you along, if you’d rather float,” Jess said.

  “Oh, I like swimming.”

  “Then let’s find suits.”

  They pawed through the pile of clothing, finding a nice tan suit for Jess and a pretty red one for Myst.

  This seemed almost too easy. That made Jess suspicious.

  “What are those colored fins?” Myst asked.

  Jess looked. “Loan sharks!” she said, horrified. “They’ll take an arm and a leg if you let them.”

  “Do we hafta let them?”

  Jess gazed at the circling fins. “No! But that means we can’t swim across.”

  “Bleep!” Magnus called. “Now we’re separated.”

  And that was surely mischief. What to do?

  Myst looked at Jess. “I’m taking you seriously, because of the game. But those sharks aren’t in the game, are they?”

  “What are you suggesting?” But Jess feared she knew.

  “That mad ram didn’t butt you. Maybe the sharks won’t bite you.”

  And maybe they would. Even a glancing bite that tore the clothing would be devastating.

  “I believe in you,” Myst said.

  Did Jess believe in herself? Her curse had messed her up all her life. Could she depend on it to mess up the sharks? Did she have the nerve to try?

  The child was gazing at her expectantly. So was Magnus from across the pond. This was her family. Fake, temporary, but more than she’d ever had since leaving her mother, who had been immune.

  “This had better work,” she said grimly. “Stay close to me.”

  “I will.”

  They forged into the water. Their suits kept them dry. The sharks oriented.

  “Come and get us, fish-faces!” Myst called to the sharks.

  Jess would have preferred that the child remain silent, but didn’t argue the case. She waded in chest deep and stood facing the sharks. She put her arms around Myst. Her heart was pounding. If she got the child bitten to death she’d never forgive herself, even if she herself no longer existed. But what else could she do? “Well? Make your move if you’re going to.” She was dreadfully afraid that they would.

  The sharks converged, each one racing to get the first bite. And veered off at the last moment, crashing into each other in their haste to avoid the woman and the girl. The closer they got, the more force the curse had, making them unable to take the proffered meals seriously.

  Well, now. Still fearfully nervous, Jess started swimming, Myst right in beside her. More sharks zoomed in, but sheared off. The curse was an effective shark repellent!

  In a few more strokes they reached the far side of the pool, where Magnus anxiously waited. He reached out to help them out of the water, while the sharks angrily flashed their fins. They had made it!

  “That was the bravest thing I ever saw,” Magnus said. “You just swam right through, daring them to attack!”

  “I was scared,” Myst said. “Even though I could’ve fogged out.”

  “I was terrified!” Jess confessed.

  Magnus spread his arms. The two of them got into them and cried all over him.

  “I guess we’re pretty happy,” Myst said, smiling through her tears.

  “I guess we are,” Jess agreed.

  Then they all had to laugh.

  “Who’s up for some kissing?” Magnus asked.

  “Yuck!” the child exclaimed, drawing away.

  But Jess took him up on it. “This may be a game to you, but it’s real to me.”

  He kissed her. Then he drew his face back a bit. “I feel the repulsion, but I also feel relief at your success, and admiration for your courage. You are some woman! I don’t have to try very hard, right now.” He kissed her again, more lingeringly.

  Then the curse regrouped, and he had to let her go. But it was heavenly while it lasted.

  “Wow!” Myst said.

  They looked around. The scene had entirely changed.

  The pond and fountain were gone, so was the pile of clothing, along with their own outfits which had been set beside it. Instead they seemed to be in the middle of a big hedge maze. They were surrounded by solid green walls of foliage with several openings. In the center was a glade where a white sheet or page had landed. On it was printed ANSWER.

  “Maybe it’s one of the pages from the other challenge,” Myst said. “It was supposed to be there, but it got lost.”

  That seemed to be as good a theory as any. “I wonder what the Question is?” Jess said, bemused.

  “That could be part of this challenge,” Magnus said. “We’d better find our way out before a ram or shark comes looking for us.”

  “What about our clothes?” Myst asked plaintively. “We don’t want to go about in swim suits.”

  “Easily resolved,” Magnus said. “These are general purpose outfits, remember? Just focus on what you’d rather be wearing.” As he spoke his own swim suit became a handsome suit similar to what he had before.

  “Oho!” Myst’s suit became a cute green dress, complete with green slippers. “These are better than what we had before.”

  Jess followed suit, as it were, and focused on an ordinary day outfit. But what she got was a clown suit. “Oops.”

  “It’s not taking you seriously!” Myst exclaimed, laughing.

  “Allow me,” Magnus said. He put a hand on the shoulder of her suit, and in three quarters of a moment it became a trim woman’s business suit.

  “Thank you,” Jess said, embarrassed. “My own effort is atrocious.”

  “As my assistant, you can call yourself Atrocia,” he said.

  “I will.”

  They picked a passage at random and followed it through the maze. Their feet left faint tracks in the dust on the ground. It soon came to an intersection as another passage crossed it at right angles. “Which one do we take?” Myst asked.

  Magnus shrugged. “Let’s go straight ahead. If that doesn’t lead anywhere, we can return and try one of the side branches.”

  That made sense. Jess reflected on how he was a sensible man. She liked that about him. But of course she liked everything about him, so maybe it didn’t count for much.

  They walked on. Soon the passage emerged from the hedge. Just like that they were through! “As mazes go, this isn’t much of a challenge,” Jess remarked.

  “And this is the third challenge,” Magnus said. “We must be missing something.”

  Beyond the hedge was a wall of doors. Each was closed and featureless except for a number: five, six, seven, and so on. They followed the wall, and discovered that it entirely circled the hedge, the numbers going from one to fifty.

  “It seems we have to pick a door to enter,” Jess sai
d. “But which one?”

  “That is the question,” Magnus agreed. Then he paused.

  Jess caught the same thought. “In the center of the hedge is says ANSWER. Could that be connected?”

  “It surely is connected,” he said. “In the challenges, everything counts. We just have to figure out how.”

  “But it doesn’t give an actual answer,” Jess said. “Just the printed word ANSWER.”

  “We’re still missing something.”

  “Maybe it’s under the page,” Myst said.

  “Could be,” Magnus agreed. “Let’s look.”

  They returned to the passage they had used. Now they saw that it was actually one of two that diverged at a sharp angle. Was the maze supposed to be solved from the outside? Then why had they found themselves in the center? Jess feared that they were missing more than a little. This whole setup did not seem to make much sense, and that was a troubling sign.

  “I’ll take this one,” Myst said brightly, stepping into the one they had not taken before. “You take the other. That way you’ll be alone so you can act mushy without bothering me.”

  Magnus and Jess laughed together. “We’ll do that,” he agreed.

  “You don’t have to,” Jess said as the child disappeared down the slanting passage.

  “We’re posing as a family, and it’s working pretty well,” he said. “I also find it a private challenge to get around your curse. I can see you’re a good woman, deserving of such attention.”

  “But I don’t want to be a burden on you.”

  “That’s part of your goodness. So unless you really don’t want it . . .”

  “I want it,” she breathed.

  “Then here’s a nice kiss and a naughty pinch, so as not to disappoint the child.” He did one to her mouth and the other to her bottom. She loved both. If only they could be real!

  “I know what you’re thinking. I wish I could do them for real, too, instead of faking it. I know I’d really like doing them, if that curse didn’t straight-arm me.”

  Just so.

  They moved down the passage. They came to the cross passage.

  “Boo!” Myst cried, jumping out.

  “Oh!” Jess exclaimed, putting her hand to her heart as if terminally startled.

  “Ah, you’re faking it,” the girl said. “I know you’re not serious.”

  And even if she had been serious, it would have seemed otherwise.

  “So they do connect,” Magnus said.

  “Sure,” Myst said happily. “It made a sharp turn and came right here.”

  “As long as we’re here, let’s see where the other passage goes,” Jess said.

  They followed the other passage, but it soon dead-ended, going nowhere. “There’s something about this,” Magnus said. “I can’t quite place it.”

  They returned to the intersection, and continued on into the center. There was the page. They lifted it up, but all that it said was QUESTION; there was nothing on the ground beneath. “Another dead end,” Magnus said, disgusted. “We’re getting nowhere fast.”

  “The page can be oriented either way,” Jess said. “It seems that ANSWER is the way it’s supposed to be, for what that’s worth.”

  “That is the message,” Magnus agreed. “Too bad we’re not smart enough to understand it.”

  “The prior two challenges were more physical than mental,” Jess said. “This one seems to be more mental.”

  They took the next passage to their right as they faced out of the center. This was curvaceous rather than straight, and had no intersections. It emerged outside, but also continued back into the hedge, where it finally dead ended.

  There were no other passages. They had traveled them all, what little there was of them.

  “There’s something odd about the shapes,” Jess said.

  “They’re numbers!” Myst exclaimed.

  “That’s what nagged me,” Magnus said. The straight lines, the angles, the intersection—the number four!”

  “And the curvy one, two,” Jess said. “But what do they mean?”

  “Now it is coming together. The word ANSWER is in the center, as if designating the maze itself. And the maze spells out the number forty-two.”

  “But what does that mean?”

  “I’m still working on that.”

  “But don’t we already have the Question?” Myst asked. “Like which door to use?”

  Magnus and Jess stared at each other, mutually chagrined. “We had the Question,” Magnus said.

  “And forgot it,” Jess said.

  “We’ll try Door Forty-Two,” Magnus said. “But I don’t think we’re quite there yet. Why is that the right door?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “And we’d better figure it out, so we know we’re not wrong. This challenge is so devious I don’t trust it not to pull a fast one.”

  “Fifty doors,” Jess said. “Why isn’t number forty-one the right one? Or number forty-three? what’s special about number forty-two?”

  “My folks were talking once,” Myst said. “They said that the adventures of Xanth are numbered by the Muse of History. When Aunt Astrid and Aunt Fornax fetched us from the future, that was number thirty-nine. when the Goddess Isis made the Orb, that was number forty. when Hapless met Merge, and they got married so they could make a family for me, that was number forty-one. And—”

  Both Magnus and Jess were following intently. “And?” Magnus asked.

  “Maybe it’s not relevant,” Myst said, made nervous by their attitude.

  “It’s relevant,” Jess said. “What is Story number forty-two?”

  “That’s Fibot. When my siblings went to help crew it. And—” She broke off, realizing what she was saying. “And that’s where we want to go! Fibot!”

  “So that must be the right door,” Magnus said. “Now at last it’s making some sense.”

  “Pretty crazy sense,” Jess said.

  “Xanth sense,” Myst said.

  “Xanth sense,” Magnus agreed. “Lets go open that door.”

  “But will it put us in that story, instead of our own?” Jess asked worriedly.

  Magnus considered. “More likely it’s just a signal that we’ve figured it out, and the fire boat can come. This is all a challenge, remember, not reality.”

  “A game,” Jess agreed. “Like our little family here.”

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  They hurried back out of the maze and to Door Forty-Two. Then Magnus paused. “And would number forty-three be our own story? Maybe—”

  “We’re already in our own story,” Jess said. “Where we figure out how to find Fibot. Let’s not overthink it.” She was concerned that they might throw away what they had gained.

  “Okay,” he agreed. He put his hand to the knob and turned it.

  The door pushed open. There stood a woman a middling age. “Congratulations, folks,” she said. “I am Wira, Magician Humfrey’s daughter--in-law. I will take you to the Designated Wife of the Month, Rose of Roogna.”

  Jess remembered that Wira pretty much ran the castle, because she was always there while the wives switched out every month. They followed her through the halls and galleys to a garden.

  A garden?

  A garden. A woman, also of middling age, was watering a bed of white roses. She was in green jeans with a white apron and brown cogs, and her hair was tied up in a loose bun.

  “Mother Rose,” Wira said. “The querents are here.”

  The what’s?

  “Those who come to query the Good Magician,” Magnus murmured, sensing her confusion. “To ask him a Question, and get his Answer.”

  Oh.

  “What’s a—” Myst started.

  Jess nudged her. “Us.”

  “Oh.”

 
The woman straightened up to look at them. “Oh, I forgot! I’m not dressed for company.”

  “I’m sure they prefer informality,” Wira said diplomatically. “They are Magnus, Jess, and Myst, an ad hoc family. They just navigated the challenges.” Then, to the three: “This is Rose of Roogna, Magician Humfrey’s Designated Wife of the Month.”

  “What kind of wife?” Myst asked, confused.

  Wira smiled. “When the Good Magician went to Hell to rescue his wife, he wound up with more than he had bargained on: all his former five and a half wives, who had faded out over the centuries. It’s the kind of bargain one finds in Hell. Since by Xanthly custom a man is supposed to have only one wife at a time, they take turns. Rose was originally his third wife. This happens to be her month.”

  “Thank you for that clarification, dear,” Rose said graciously as she brushed dirt off her apron. “But of course they’re not interested in such mundane details.”

  “I am,” Myst said. “I know about funny families. You must be pretty old.”

  Both Magnus and Jess opened their mouths to caution the child, but were already too late.

  But Rose laughed. “Oh, it’s good to encounter a child again! Yes, I am old, dear. Four hundred and fourteen years, to be specific. But we all use youth elixir to keep us at our preferred ages, so I am at present about forty-five.” She glanced at the others. “Wira will take you to the sitting room for refreshments, while I finish watering my roses and get cleaned up and changed for company. I apologize for forgetting.”

  “Please, no apologies,” Magnus said. “We did not mean to intrude.”

  But as they turned to go with Wira, they discovered she was gone. She must have had other business to attend to, not realizing that they would be moving on.

  “Oh, dear,” Rose said. “I am confusing things again.”

  “That is quite all right,” Magnus said. “We will be happy to help you water the roses.” He glanced at Jess and Myst, who nodded.

  “Your manner,” Rose said. “I feel your magic.”

  “My talent is verisimilitude. That is—”

  Rose put up her hand. “I know the word. You make things come together so they are believable. That’s a fine talent.”