Xanth 29 - Pet Peeve Page 8

They spied a small boy doing something odd. His head did not seem to be quite even, but that wasn't it. He was standing by a small pond, gesturing.

  "Get a load of the brat."

  "Maybe he's lost," Goody said.

  "I'll ask." Hannah approached the boy. "Hello. I am Hannah Barbarian. What are you doing?"

  He looked up at her. "I'm Colt Human. I'm throwing snow fakes."

  "What a faker!"

  "But there's no snow here."

  "Snow fakes," he said. "They make people act unlike themselves. See the fish."

  Goody and Hannah stared. The fish were leaving the pond and walking upright on its bank.

  "How can that be?" Goody asked.

  "It's my talent. See." Colt blew a small white flake toward Hannah.

  A peculiar expression crossed her face and departed for parts unknown. "Oh, you dear child!" she exclaimed. She picked Colt up and half smothered him with kisses.

  Goody stared. This was totally unlike the barbarian warrior. She was acting like a fond mother.

  "Ooo la LA!" the parody exclaimed. "Honey Buns got sweet on the brat."

  "Ugh!" Colt said. "I thought it would make you go away."

  "Not till I run out of kisses." Fortunately that occurred soon, and she set the boy down.

  "That's a nice talent," Goody said. "Now we must go." He managed to catch Hannah's hand and urge her away.

  "Thanks," she gasped. "That was awful. Promise never to tell."

  "I promise. As far as I'm concerned, you've always been a heartless warrior."

  "Thank you. Now let go of my hand, or I may lose control and smooch you. The mood hasn't completely passed."

  Goody hastily let go. "I'm just glad he didn't blow that snow fake at me."

  They continued along the path. "Something occurred to me," Hannah said.

  "We're not making much progress on placing the peeve," he agreed, wanting to stay well clear of kissing.

  "That, too. But what I was thinking was that you're supposed to have a magic talent."

  "Magician Murphy said so. But I'm not sure."

  "We have been exposed to just enough danger to make me think that you could use more protection."

  "I do have a bag of old spells the Magician gave me."

  "Oh? What kind?"

  "Four spells."

  She nodded. "They're good ones. Not as good as one, two, or three spells, but better than five or six spells. But they can get cranky when old. Best to invoke them only at dire need."

  "That's my impression."

  "So maybe we should have your talent. That should be more reliable. I wish Deirdre were here."

  "Who?"

  "A girl I met whose talent was knowing talents. She could touch a person and know. But I haven't seen her in years. So we'll have to find it on our own."

  "But I have no idea what it is, or if it is."

  "So maybe we should discover that, before we get into something really difficult."

  "But it might be a mere spot-on-the-wall talent."

  "Is that what the Magician said?"

  "No. He said it was generally protective in nature. Not strong, but protective."

  "That's what we need. How can we find it out?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Idiots," the peeve said.

  Hannah glanced at it. "You have a notion, birdbrain?"

  "Ask the stupid dragon."

  "We have encountered only one dragon. The—" She paused. "Telepathic tunneler."

  "Telepathic," Goody repeated. "Vortex can read my mind."

  "And somewhere in your mind must be your talent."

  "I really doubt—"

  "Idiot," the peeve repeated.

  Goody surrendered. "We can try it. But how can we locate the dragon? He could be anywhere on or under the ground."

  "Idiot!" the bird said a third time.

  "By summoning him," Hannah said. "That's what he said."

  Goody remained doubtful. "How?" Then, before the bird could call him an idiot a fourth time, he got it. "Mentally."

  He focused. Vortex Dragon! This is Goody Goblin.

  Nothing happened.

  "Think louder," Hannah suggested.

  He concentrated harder. Then a faint response came. I receive you. It takes a while to reach you.

  "He answered!" Goody said. "He's coming here."

  "So the bird was right," Hannah said thoughtfully.

  "You're just now catching on, termagant?"

  "Maybe the parody wants to find a good home too," Goody said. "And knows it won't be easy."

  There was a rumble and shake. Then the blue snout poked out of the ground. And a pink one. This time there were two dragons.

  "Double trouble," the parody said.

  The second dragon was similar in size and configuration to the first, but the colors differed: pink head, brown and green body, blue legs.

  "This is my dragon lady, Vertex," Vortex said, making his thoughts sound as speech.

  The parody opened its beak. Both dragons glanced at it. The bird changed its mind.

  "You know what we want," Hannah said.

  "Of course," Vortex said. "But this is not easy. We also want something."

  "Bargaining," Hannah said. "Fair enough. What do you want?"

  "This too is not easy."

  "Then it's a fair exchange. What do you want?"

  "A construction robot."

  Both Goody and Hannah were taken aback. "That sounds like something in Mundania," Goody said.

  "It is on Robot World, among the Moons of Ida," Vortex explained. "My beloved wishes to make a safe nest, but this is a new world for us, with unfamiliar dangers, especially for little ones. We lack the resources to forage effectively and simultaneously make the nest. But a robot could make a better nest than we could, faster. When it is done, we can trade the robot to other dragons, and be well off."

  "But isn't a robot a machine?" Hannah asked. "Something mechanical?"

  "Exactly. It has no feeling, just a program. It does what it is told, within its specialty."

  "Like Anne," the parody said.

  "Any what?" Hannah asked, then caught herself. "The girl."

  "Not like Anne," Vortex said, reading Goody's memory. "She is a living, feeling, and beautiful human girl whose smile pacifies peeves and stuns males. A robot is dead matter, without emotions or expressions, and neuter."

  "Not so, dear," Vertex said. "The robots of Robot World have gender, the males designed for brutework and the females for cutework, and their programs may have programmed feeling. They may have positive can-do and negative can't-do indications on their face-plates. We shall need a female construction robot so she won't mess it up."

  "Just so," Vortex agreed, disgruntled. "That's what we require."

  This was becoming complicated. "Where can we find these robots?"

  "He told you, BB brain! Ida's moons."

  "I don't think I am familiar with those."

  "Magician Grey Murphy's wife's sister Ida has a moon, and the moon has moons," Vortex explained patiently. "Each one farther into alternate dimensionality than the last, where all creatures who exist or might exist reside. One of these is Dragon World, our origin; another is Robot World."

  "Go to Castle Roogna and ask for Princess Ida," Vertex said. "She will get you there."

  Goody remained borderline confused, but at least now knew where to go. "I will try," he said. "And bring back a female construction robot for you, if this is feasible."

  "That seems adequate," Vortex said. "Now I shall fathom your magic talent. This may require deep reading and invocation of buried memories, which could be uncomfortable."

  "So hold his hand, heathen vixen! Haw haw haw."

  A wisp of steam curled above Hannah's head.

  "We shall have to silence that interference," Vertex said. She glanced at the parody, and it stiffened into something like a statue.

  "Wait, we can't hurt the peeve," Goody said.

  "It is merely in a state
of suspended awareness," Vortex said. "Vertex will release it when my business with you is done."

  Oh. "Thank you." He lifted the inert bird from his shoulder and set it carefully on a low branch of a nondescript tree, where it remained without protest. "It should be safe here, out of danger," he said.

  The dragon approached. "Now make yourself comfortable, for you may lose consciousness of your surroundings."

  Goody found a tree trunk to lean against and settled down. "Ready, I suppose, I think. This is comfortable and convenient, and I am relaxed and at ease."

  "You're repeating yourself," Hannah said.

  "I am? Am I?"

  The barbarian stared at the tree. "No wonder! That's a tautolotree. It makes you repeat needlessly, or say what's already obvious."

  "Tautology," Goody agreed. "Repetition."

  "Stop it!"

  "It doesn't matter, for this purpose," Vortex said. "Just sit there and let your mind go blank."

  "I am blank," Goody agreed. "My mind is either empty or not empty." He let his gaze go unfocused, twice.

  Nothing changed. But he had seen that phenomenon in No Man's Land, so knew better than to assume that nothing was happening. He was merely resting here, thinking.

  Then the scene faded, to be replaced by the interior of what he recognized as a goblin mound. Huge goblins were running here and there, doing mysterious things. No, they were normal goblin size; he was small. He was a goblet, a baby goblin.

  His nurse was busy at the moment, changing his diaper, so he cast about for mischief. He saw a little fire ant in a niche, so he caught it on a piece of cloth and dropped it on the nurse's toe.

  "Eee-yow!" she screeched, almost smacking her head on the ceiling as she leaped. The fire ant had given her a hotfoot! Gory giggled so hard he almost fell off the table.

  Of course he got away with it. Even if the nurse suspected, she couldn't punish him, because he was the chief's son. He could cuss her out in language that made her faint, when he got old enough to learn how to talk.

  So he was a normal goblin male originally.

  And the son of a chief.

  Locate the time he changed.

  He was a chief's son? So he was; now he remembered. He had buried that memory because he was ashamed.

  The scene shifted. Now he was older but still a goblet, able to walk and talk but not to do anything manly, like punching out a visitor. There was tension in the air; the adults were afraid. That made Gory afraid too.

  An invisible hand took his. An adult was lending him strength, somehow. The fear receded, and he was able to study the situation as if separated from his small body.

  The mound was being raided! The goblin guards were being killed, and the women were being hauled into closed chambers where they screamed piercingly. Gory found it hilarious, the way they sounded. The goblets were being rounded up separately.

  "They're after loot, rapine, and hostages," Gory's nurse said.

  "We've got to hide you, because you're worth more than all the others combined."

  Of course. He was the chief's son.

  "There's no escape; the mound is surrounded. Only one ploy remains. We'll have to fix it so they won't recognize you."

  Not recognize the chief's son? Impossible! He was the meanest goblet in the mound, and everyone was proud of him.

  She fetched a packet from a high shelf and emptied its powder into a cup of water. "Quick, drink this, Gory," she said.

  "Why, you dopey cow?" he demanded rebelliously. He didn't like anyone telling him what to do, even for his own safety.

  She didn't argue with him. She pinched his nose, tilted his head back, and when he opened his mouth to breathe, poured in the fluid. He choked, but swallowed most of it.

  Whet she released him, he opened his mouth to cuss her out properly, but the words wouldn't come. "If you please," he said politely, "what was in that water?"

  "Powdered reverse wood. That makes you behave the opposite of your nature. You are now the meekest goblin in the mound. Remove your clothes."

  Ordinarily he would have told her where she could go with such a directive. Not that he objected to the act; he liked to run through the girls' dorm naked, freaking them out. Once he was grown, that should be twice as much fun. But now he was unaccustomedly modest. "Please, I would rather not, lest it be unseemly."

  "Then conceal yourself and change into these," she said, handing him a pile of clothing.

  He obliged, for it would not have been nice to disobey the nurse, who meant only the best for him. The clothing was horrible: panties, slippers, and a dress. But he donned it meekly enough.

  Then the nurse redid his hair, putting a ribbon into it. "You are no longer Gory Goblin, chief's son," she said. "You are Goody Gobliness, a common girl. Remember that; your safety depends on it."

  Then foreign goblin men burst into the chamber. "Haa!" they cried. "A wench and a brat!"

  They hauled the nurse into another room, where she duly screamed. Goody they hustled to a chamber with other children, then ignored them all.

  After that, the raiders settled in. The older goblinesses became their servants and the younger ones their screaming partners. Goody did not know what was going on, but was glad to avoid it. He stayed with the girls, and never let on to anyone that he was not the same as them. In due course the boys were taken away as hostages, leaving only the girls.

  A few days later a counterattack wiped out the raiders. The chief returned. Now at last it was safe for Goody to reveal his identity. At first the chief laughed uproariously to learn how his son had outwitted the enemy. But when it became apparent that the boy's nature had changed, he was disgusted.

  Reverse wood! No wonder he's so nice!

  But it's not the talent.

  It seems to be connected, though. Do a slow talent search.

  Goody moved forward through his life, growing up despised, being tacitly exiled, and finally being upset because of the nasty Finger. His original self would have loved the Finger!

  Then he opened his eyes back in the present. Hannah was holding his hand. She was the one who had given him strength and courage during the flashback.

  "Are you back?" she asked.

  "Yes, thank you." He glanced at their linked hands. "But I thought you didn't want to—"

  She let go. "I didn't want to give the bird the satisfaction. But it was clear you needed support, and that was the only way to give it. So, as a friend would—"

  "A friend," he said, liking it. "It really helped. Did you see what I saw?"

  "Yes, when I was in contact with you. You had a rough time as a child."

  "I hate the memory."

  "Of what happened to you?"

  "Of what I was originally. Those women—they were being—and I laughed, though at that age I didn't know the details, just that they were suffering."

  "You are not what you were," she agreed. "You are now as nice as you were mean."

  "And I don't want to change back."

  "But your talent—they didn't find that."

  "Yes, we did," Vortex said. "We just had to analyze the subtle indications near the present. It seems to be related to your infiltration by the reverse wood. At first it reversed your personality. Now it is extending to your body."

  "My gender!" Goody exclaimed, alarmed. "I don't want to turn into a girl again."

  "Not that. This affects your interaction with your environment. We don't properly understand it yet, perhaps because it is as yet weak, but with time and practice it will surely strengthen. It helps protect you."

  "Without Hannah's protection, the parody would have gotten me killed several times over. I'm not aware of any power of my own."

  "Your talent has not yet been evoked. But perhaps we can do that now. We have reviewed its parameters, and—"

  "Its whats?"

  "Values, scale, compass, measure, connection, degree, limits—"

  "Boundaries?" Hannah asked.

  "Whatever," Vortex agreed without
ire. Actually his words had been accompanied by the thought concept, so Goody had garnered a working comprehension of it. "It has variable application, depending on circumstances. It's fairly sophisticated, but as yet weak. Perhaps we can demonstrate. Strike at him with your weapon."

  She shook her head. "If I do that I'll cut him in half."

  "Feint, then, or use a harmless weapon."

  "I won't faint!"

  Goody realized that she had picked up the sound without all of the meaning, being illiterate. "Make a pretend strike."

  She fetched a pillow from a nearby pillow bush. "I'll bash you with this. I'll score, but it can't hurt you."

  Goody stood before the tree. Hannah swung the pillow at him. It shied off without quite touching him.

  "That's odd." She wound it back and tried again. The second time it seemed to bounce back a bit, without quite touching him.

  "Something wrong with this pillow," she said. She fetched a weed stalk instead, and poked it at him. It seemed to push back in her hand.

  "Weird." She fetched a light stick and rapped at his shoulder. The stick came back at her with similar light force.

  "It is repelling the weapons," Vortex explained. "Bouncing them back in the direction they come from. It seems to be related to the reverse wood, reversing the thrust."

  "A bounce!" Goody said. "It really is there."

  "Let me make one more test," Hannah said. "I will try just to nick you lightly." She drew her sword.

  Goody was distinctly nervous about this. "I'm not sure this is wise."

  She brought the sword down on his shoulder. It bounced back, just missing her own shoulder. "I felt it!" she said. "A force reflected it. You are protected!"

  "I suppose so," Goody agreed, amazed.

  "It is getting stronger with practice," Vortex said. "Now that it has been evoked."

  "So I really do have a protective talent," Goody said in wonder.

  "You really do," Vortex agreed.

  He went to fetch the parody from the branch of the tautolotree. "About time, you numskull," the bird complained. "It's been a while, bonehead."

  The others laughed. "What so funny?" the peeve demanded. "Where's the humor?" But no one would explain.

  6

  Robot

  They set out for Castle Roogna, on the way to Robot World. They cut across to intercept an enchanted path. By the time they found it, it was getting late, so they stopped at a campsite that was convenient.