Faun & Games Page 9

  “Or of fauns,” she agreed. “Actually there may be several regions of each type, because of the time.”

  “Time?”

  “Time is geography, so there are limits.”

  “I don't understand. Will I have to exchange a service in order to find out what that means?”

  She laughed. “No. We are in the process of exchanging our services now. It is to my interest to facilitate your search for the dear horn, and you can surely do that better if you understand our system. I had forgotten for the moment that you are from Outside. Have you noticed something about me?”

  He glanced at her. “Only that you somehow seem younger than I took you for. I was probably distracted by your-there are aspects of you that resemble a generously endowed nymph, and-”

  She laughed again, making those aspects shake. “I think I might even guess which aspects you mean. But you are not imagining it. I am growing younger. I was foaled only twenty years before we met, so even a small distance to the east makes me noticeably younger.”

  “How can that be? Is there youth elixir in the airs”

  “No. It's the direction. When we travel into the From, we become younger. If the dear horn is very far in this direction, not only will we be in ogre territory, I will be too young to take you there. I would regret that, because then we could not complete our agreement “But how can that be? East is a direction, not a time.”

  “Perhaps that is true where you come from. Here east is From, or what you might call the Past. It's all the same to us, of course, but I suppose it might seem odd to outsiders.”

  “Are you saying that if we go one direction, we get younger, and if we go the other direction, we get older?”

  “That is exactly what I am saying. So I am able to go twenty years east, from where we meet, and seventy years west. For reasons of vanity I prefer to remain mostly in the early maturity section. Neither extreme youth nor extreme age appeal to me particularly.”

  He was amazed. “Does this apply to us too?”

  “I should certainly think so. Do you feel yourself getting younger.

  “No. But I wouldn't notice five or ten years, and neither would Imbri.

  We're both two hundred years old.”

  “You are that age where?”

  He was nonplussed. “Why, here, of course.”

  “But you must be five or six years younger than you were. See, I am becoming a teen, and younger.”

  He looked at her again. Indeed, now her breasts were smaller, her flanks were less solid, and she had acne on her face. Her mane, which had been loose, was now bound into a pony tail.

  He checked himself. “No, I remain much the same faun as ever. But I would be only a hundred and ninety or so, instead of two hundred. I would have to go a long way back to get really young.”

  “So I gather. How far can you go in To?”

  “Into what?”

  “The future.”

  “Why, I don't know. It depends on how long my tree lives. Perhaps four hundred years.”

  “You are a long-lived species!”

  “Well, we draw our vitality from our trees. If my tree should be chopped down, I would fade out right then.”

  “I see. So you should have a wide range of geography, here on Ptero.

  That is surely an advantage, in case your faun is long removed.”

  Forrest suffered a revelation. “The Good Magician must have known!

  That's why Imbri and I are the same age, and both long lived. So we can search farther, together.”

  “That does seem to make sense. Every person's territory is limited by her life span. That is not usually a problem, but I confess that at times I do wonder at what must be beyond my territory.” She was now smaller, with no chest development, and her mane was in pigtails. “I hope it isn't much farther.”

  Imbri, who had been walking with a removed expression, looked at her.

  “Not far now, I think. The glow is stronger. But it is still flickering. I don't want to pause, lest something happen to it.”

  “ But we may have to pause,” Cathryn said. “We are approaching the edge of equine territory.” There was the sound of hoofs, and two adult centaurs came into sight. The hide of one was dark, with a spiral pattern of spots like thickly clustered stars. The other was the opposite, with a white hide speckled with black dots. Both carried bows. “Ho, ladies,” the dark one called. “Are you aware that you are near the boundary?”

  Forrest saw that the land ahead did change. They had been walking through a fairly level open forest, the kind that hoofed creatures preferred, but before them was a tangle of oddities.

  “Yes, thank you, Alpha,” Cathryn said. “These folk are from Xanth, on a mission to locate the dear horn, which it seems is in the adjacent territory.” Then she turned to the others. “This is Alpha Centauri, guardian of the boundary. His name got mangled by a passing galaxy, but he is nevertheless one of us.”

  “To be sure,” Alpha agreed gruffly. “But this is a bad section to cross out. The puns have completely overgrown it, and are horrible.”

  The other centaur spoke. “You are visitors from Xanth proper?

  You will be returning there in due course?”

  “Yes, within a month,” Forrest replied.

  “I am Vision Centaur. I would like to exchange a service with you.”

  “Well, I don't know if we have anything to exchange.”

  “Surely we do. I have a message I would like you to deliver to certain parties in Xanth.”

  “I can do that,” Imbri said. “I can visit almost anyone in Xanth, in my capacity as a day mare.”

  “In return I offer my service in helping to protect you from an incipient attack.”

  “Attack?” Cathryn asked, concerned.

  “I'll make that deal,” Imbri said. “What is the message?”

  “It is for Jenny Elf and Chief Gwendolyn Goblin. It is that if they will seek out a special type of tick, the gene-tic, they can use it to cause their myopic gene to recede, that is, to become recessive. That will render their sight normal, so they will no longer need to use spectacles.”

  “But this is great news for them!” Imbri said. “They will not be able to perform a return service for it.”

  “Creatures of Xanth proper are not necessarily bound by our conventions.

  I merely wish them to have the information.”

  “I will deliver the message to them,” Imbri said.

  “Thank you. Now I suggest that you make a detour, because your present course is not wise.”

  “I don't dare deviate, lest I lose the glow,” Imbri said. “I must go straight ahead.”

  Cathryn sighed. “Then we shall accompany you. We don't have time for a gallop poll on the issue. Perhaps my staff will help.” In her hands appeared a long stout pole. “If that is not sufficient, perhaps my talent will avail.”

  “You have a magic talent?” Forrest asked, surprised.

  “Oh, didn't I mention that? My talent is blankets. They can be very useful on occasion.”

  Forrest did not comment. It was interesting that a winged centaur had a magic talent other than flying, though of course as a might-be she wasn't limited by the conventions of ordinary creatures of her kind. But nice as a blanket could be on a cold night, he doubted it would be much help against horrible puns.

  Alpha looked into the sky. “Oh, no! I fear the dragons are staging a border raid.”

  “Precisely,” Vision said. “I saw them from afar.”

  Cathryn followed his gaze, alarmed. “I'm too young to use my bow effectively.”

  “Then you and your friends had better flee From or To,” Alpha said. “Vision and I will cover your retreat.”

  Now Forrest heard the beat of a number of heavy wings. “Dragons raid equine territory?”

  “Yes,” Alpha said tersely. “They have a taste for equine flesh. Of course we just dissolve and reform when eaten, but it's an exceedingly uncomfortable process.” He unslung his bow
and nocked an arrow. “I will hold them off. Flee-and stay out of the air.”

  “How can we outrun flying dragons?” Forrest asked Cathryn.

  “It's a matter of moving out of their time range,” she explained, looking worried. “If they are young dragons, we can move From and force them to become too young to fly well. If they are mature dragons, we flee To, hoping they will become too old to fly well.”

  “Unfortunately it is a mixed squadron,” Alpha said, squinting into the sky as dark shapes appeared. “Some will follow effectively, regardless.”

  “I will make a security blanket,” Cathryn decided.

  “You are too young to make a really effective one,” Alpha warned her.

  “I know. But it must do.” She gestured, and something spread out from her hands and floated above them. It slowly settled, covering all of them except Alpha. Forrest realized that her talent was not precisely what he had understood.

  I will defend the outer perimeter of the blanket,” Alpha said, aiming his first arrow at the first dragon. “Stay low, and perhaps it will suffice.”

  “ The glow is flickering,” Imbri said. “I am going on.”

  “I recommend against this,” Alpha said grimly. “Attila the Pun passed by here recently, and left a disgusting trail. It is simply not safe. I suggest that you fly over this section, or run around it, after the dragons depart. Especially since you are quite young, here, Cathryn, and your friends look inexperienced.”

  But Imbri was already forging into the pun region. So naturally Forrest and Cathryn had to follow.

  “This is very bad judgment,” Alpha called after them. Forrest was sure he was correct.

  “Well, at least the dragons won't attack us within the pun strip,” Cathryn said. “They don't like it any better than we do.”

  Forrest heard the bow twang behind them. Alpha or Vision was firing at a dragon. Could puns really be worse than dragons?

  There was a rustle ahead, and something thumped past them. It looked like a man, except that it had only one arm-and one leg. Then it turned its head toward them, and Forrest saw that it had only half a head, with one eye and half a mouth. “Et ut f y ay!” it screamed in half syllables.

  Cathryn raised her staff. “No, you get out of our way, half brother,” she retorted. Her threat must have been effective, because the thing ran away. Forrest saw as it retreated that it was half-reared, too. Now they passed a sign saying MALL. It was an open section winding through the tangled puns, with shops along the sides. The central strip was clear and firm, so they ran along it rather than across it, making better time.

  Then Imbri started pulling at her clothing. Forrest's feet felt confined. He just had to get them out of the sandals.

  “Oh, no,” Cathryn exclaimed, ripping off her backpack. “A strip mall! “

  Forrest realized that that made sense, in a pun strip. He took off his sandals and backpack and felt free. Meanwhile Imbri had stripped to complete nudity, and now looked exactly like a nymph. It wasn't so bad; they held their things and ran on along the strip.

  Another truncated figure ran by, going the opposite direction. This one was female: a half sister. But while the half brother had been sliced vertically, so that he had to jump rather than run, this one was halved across the middle. She had two nice legs, and was topless. Forrest wondered how the other half of her got along.

  But his brief distraction caused him to misstep. Suddenly his foot was in a fish-shaped blob of jelly. It slid out from under, causing him to fall on his rear. He saw that Imbri had taken a similar fall. They were no longer wearing their magic sandals, so their feet could take bad steps. “We'd better get off the strip and get dressed again,” he called. “We need to run safely.”

  Imbri agreed. They scrambled off the strip and donned their things. He was surprised to note that she put her upper clothing on before her sandals. But of course she wasn't really a nymph, however she might look; she was a mare. When she was in girl form, she evidently adopted the conventions of girls, and didn't like to show her whole body. Yet it was a beautiful body. Human beings had funny attitudes.

  But again his distraction caused mischief. Suddenly he was struck a blow on the foot. He looked, and discovered that he had tried to put on a sock instead of his sandal. The sock had punched him. Or rather, socked him. He tossed it away and found his sandal instead.

  “We must keep moving,” Cathryn said behind him. “We're off the mall strip, but not out of the comic strip. These abysmal puns will ruin us if we don't get clear of them soon.”

  Forrest massaged his struck foot, agreeing. Then he got up and followed Imbri, his steps more confident now that they were protected by the sandals.

  They passed a big turtle. “Hey, watch where you're going!” the creature snapped. It was of course a snapping turtle.

  “My apology,” Forrest said politely, though they really hadn't gone that close to it.

  They passed a big tree with a bee sitting on its lowest branch. Suddenly Forrest felt his eyes watering.

  “A bay-bee,” Cathryn cried. “It makes you cry.” Again, he had already discovered that.

  Now he was stumbling despite his sandals, because the ground was getting marshy from the tears of those who had gone before. He lurched past a large plant and almost tripped over one of its square roots. “A polynomial plant,” Cathryn said. “Attila really did his worst this time.”

  Then several creatures charged toward them. Their bodies looked human, but their heads were closed fists. On some the thumbs were on the right, and on others on the left. All of them looked vile.

  “Knuckleheads!” Cathryn said. “They're not the smartest creatures, but they're mean. Run!”

  They ran toward what looked like a hanging curtain made up of thin slices of wood. “Avoid those!” Cathryn cried. They tried to duck down under it, but as they did, they slid into deeper swamp and got bogged down.

  “I can't see!” Forrest cried.

  “Those were Venetian blinds,” Cathryn said. “They made us-”

  “I get it,” Forrest said. “How do we get our vision back?”

  “I think I saw some see weed. If we can find that-”

  They blundered about, making big splashes. “You won't find it that way,” a voice came.

  “Who are you?” Forrest asked, hoping it wasn't a knucklehead. “I am the anonymous turtle you passed without notice. I can direct you to the see weeds, though I haven't seen them in days.”

  “Then how can you do it?” Forrest demanded.

  “I have turtle recall.”

  That did seem to make sense. “What do you want in exchange?”

  “Something nice to recall. I'm tired of recalling abysmal puns.”

  “I'll do it,” Imbri said. “I will give you a dream of sweet turtle doves.”

  “Bear to your left. You were headed for the see-an-enemy, which is more trouble than you would care for at the moment. Keep going. There: the see weed is right before you.”

  Forrest couldn't see anything, but in a moment he heard a pleased exclamation from Imbri. Then she came to him, and touched him with the see weed, and suddenly he could see again. She touched Cathryn. Then she went to do her service for the turtle.

  But more B's were flying by. One stung Cathryn. “Well, you took long enough to get to it,” she said crossly. “In fact you didn't do it at all! You just stood there stupidly while your friend fetched the see weed.”

  “Well, yes, I suppose-”

  “Not that you ever were much of a creature,” she continued. “I don't know why I'm even bothering to help you in your stupid quest. You-” Then a second B stung her. “Oh, you wonderful friend!” she exclaimed, suddenly hugging him. He would have liked it better if she had been at her mature stage. “You're just so great to have around.

  I don't know how I ever survived without you.”

  Then something stung Forrest on the leg. He looked down and saw it was a tic marked TAC. He pulled it off, but it was already having it
s effect. He was realizing how to manage things better. Those B's were from a Have; their stings made folk B-have differently. One must have been a B-little, and the other a B-friend.

  A third B was already stinging Cathryn. She pushed Forrest away.

  “B-gone!” she exclaimed.

  “Tell it to the B's,” he told her. “Loudly.”

  Comprehension crossed her face from upper right to lower left. She turned to face the remaining milling B's. “Begone!”

  The B's buzzed rapidly away, heeding the voice of authority.

  Cathryn turned back to him. “Oh, thank you. I really didn't mean those things I said; it was just that-”

  “You got stung,” he said. “Fortunately I got bitten by a tactic, so I figured out what to do.”

  Imbri returned. “The turtle is satisfied,” she reported. “Now we must move on; the glow is flickering again.” She plunged on ahead.

  They followed-and suddenly they were out of the comic strip, and the dreadful puns were gone. Ahead of them was a tree twisted into the form of a pretzel. “We are in ogre territory,” Cathryn said nervously.

  Shapes loomed in the sky. “And the dragons are still hunting us,” Forrest added, just as nervously.

  Cathryn Centaur glanced at the sky. “I'll throw a blanket of fog,” she said, raising her hands.

  “You can make another kind of blanket?” Forrest asked, surprised. “Not just security?”

  “Yes. My talent is blankets, not just one kind. But I'm only about eight years old now, and it won't be very big.” From her hands poured patches of mist, which spread out and sank around them. Unfortunately it sank too low, so that their heads poked out, and the dragons spied them. “This is the best I can do,” Cathryn said. “We'll have to duck down in order to hide in it.”

  They ducked down. The blanket of fog closed over their heads, concealing them from the air. Unfortunately it also made it hard for them to see their way.

  Then there was a great thudding sound. “An ogre!” Cathryn whispered, frightened. Forrest realized that as a child she was much more fearful of monsters than she would have been as an adult.

  He poked his head cautiously up through the top of the cloud blanket and peeked at the sky. The dragons were circling, looking for their prey.