Geis of the Gargoyle (3 page)

"We are the Wolf clan," the lead female said, changing to human form.
 
"I am Virginia Wolf."

"You-werewolves!" Gary exclaimed, surprised.

"We still are wolves," she said.
 
"We were wolves yesterday and will be so tomorrow."

"I mean you change form," he said, flustered.

She looked around.
 
"We do? Where?"

"Right here."

"Here, there, everywhere; what's the difference where wolves are?" More wolves were assuming human form.

"I mean you're magical.
 
You're not true wolves."

Virginia shook her head.
 
"Never cry wolf," she cautioned him.

"She's teasing you," Mentia said.

Gary was catching on to that.
 
"I'm the gargoyle who purifies -the Swan Knee water.
 
I want to get a better way to honor my geis from the Good Magician."

"We suspected as much," she said.
 
"Otherwise the dog pack wouldn't have let you through.
 
But you know you have a long road to run."

"I do? How far is it?"

"Several days plus the Gap Chasm."

"The what?"

"You don't know about the Gap Chasm?"

"I've never been south of the border," he said, nettled.
 
"What's this about a gap?"

"It's a big crevice across Xanth," she explained.
 
"It used to have a forget spell on it, so nobody remembered it, but most folk know about it now.
 
You look too heavy to fly far, so maybe you can't get there from here."

Gary turned to Mentia.
 
"You didn't tell me about this!" he said accusingly.

"That wouldn't have been entertaining," she retorted.

"And what's this about several days?"

"You didn't ask."

"I'll never get this done before it rains!"

"That's why you built the dam."

She had him there.
 
"Still, if I can't cross the chasm-"

"I have an idea how to do that."

He was frustrated, but decided to go ahead.
 
Maybe it was still possible.
 
The notion of returning to his dry riverbed to wait for more Mundane sludge to come through was appealing less, for some reason.
 
"So will you let us through?" he asked Virginia.

"We might as well.
 
We don't want dirty water either.
 
It would mess up our apparel."

"Your apparel?" he asked blankly.

"We are underwear wolves," she explained.
 
"We're training to crowd out the regular monsters under children's beds, and get a cushier life-style."

He realized belatedly that what he had taken for a specialized costume on their human forms was actually underclothing.
 
In fact Virginia was wearing panties.
 
It was a good thing he wasn't human, or he would have freaked out, because that was the magic of panties.

They resumed their bounding.
 
They made good time, but the distance stretched farther, and night caught them.

"Do gargoyles sleep?" Mentia inquired.

"Only when we're bored."

"Are you bored?"

"No." Frustrated, but not bored.

"So let's keep moving.
 
I know the way."

Gary was glad to do that.
 
They bounded on through the darkness.
 
There were surely predators of the night, but they evidently elected to leave the demoness and the gargoyle alone.
 
The result was that as morning came, they were just arriving at what looked like a stall fashioned into a house.

"What is this?" Gary asked.

"A stall fashioned into a house."

"I mean what are we doing here?"

"Arriving."

Demons could get exasperating on occasion.
 
"Is this going to help us cross the chasm?"

"No."

"Then why are we-?"

"The occupants may help, however," she clarified.
 
"Houses don't seem to care much about chasms, but the centaurs do."

The door opened.
 
A winged centaur filly about nine years old peered out.
 
"Eeeek," she screamed.
 
"An incredibly ugly monster!"

"Oh be quiet, Cynthia," the demoness snapped.
 
"It's only me, Mentia, Metria's worse aspect."

"But Metria's safely married and no longer doing mischief abroad," the filly protested.

"I know.
 
It's disgusting.
 
That's why I'm abroad." Mentia assumed human form.
 
"A demon broad.
 
Tell Chex I could use a favor."

In a moment a mature winged centaur emerged, tying her damp hair back; she must have been interrupted as she washed it.
 
"Metria has a split personality?" she inquired.

"Emotional havoc can do that," Mentia said.
 
"I couldn't stand her half-souled loving attitude, so I fissioned off.
 
Now I'm in charge of the mischief.
 
But I got distracted by this ugly brute, so I'm guiding him to the Good Magician's castle.
 
But the Gap Chasm's in the way, and he's too solid to fly, so-"

Chex gazed at Gary.
 
"Why you're a gargoyle, aren't you?" she asked.
 
"We seldom see your kind here."

"That's because most of us are purifying the waters flowing in from Mundania, according to our geis," he explained.
 
"But now if I can find a better way-"

"Of course," she agreed immediately.
 
Centaurs, he remembered, were very bright.
 
"And you need to fly across the Gap Chasm.
 
I can certainly help you to do that."

"You can?" he asked, amazed.
 
"But my weight-"

She turned and flicked him with her tail.
 
Suddenly he felt light-headed and light-bodied.
 
He flapped his wings experimentally, and sailed into the air.
 
She had made him so light that he was able to fly!

"Thank you," Mentia said.
 
"Some day I shall fail to do you mischief, when I have the chance."

Chex smiled.
 
"That seems a fair bargain.
 
We do need clean water.
 
In any event, we winged monsters have to help each other."

Mentia rose into the air.
 
"I knew that," she said.
 
Then, to Gary: "Move it, monster.
 
You don't want to be over the chasm when her magic wears off."

"Just how big is this crevice?" he asked.

"You'll see."

They flew south as the sun made a nest of colors to the east and lifted itself out of the clouds.
 
Suddenly an enormous chasm opened out below.
 
It was so wide and deep that a few of the pink morning clouds were nestling within it.
 
Gary could not see to its base; that was still shrouded in night.
 
But he felt new urgency to get across it; already he was feeling heavier.

They landed beyond the Gap on what the demoness assured him was an enchanted path: only folk on legitimate business could use it, and while they were on it, they would be protected from monsters.

"But I'm a monster!" he protested.

"You have to be a nice monster for now.
 
Can you stand it?"

"I was never a nasty monster.
 
Just an ugly one."

"So you'll have no problem.
 
We'll soon reach the castle."

"It will be good to get this done with."

She glanced sidelong at him.
 
"There's a detail or two I may not have mentioned."

"The last detail or two related to the distance and the Gap Chasm.
 
I hope these aren't as bad."

"No, not as bad," she said, smiling.
 
"Worse."

"Worse! Why didn't you tell me, you crazy creature?"

"Thank you.
 
I thought it would be more interesting this way.
 
You see, you don't just walk into the Good Magician's castle.
 
You have to struggle past three challenges.
 
That's because he doesn't like to be disturbed by folk who aren't serious."

"If I had known that-"

"To be sure," she agreed so sweetly that flakes of crystallized sugar formed on her surfaces.

He tried to get a grip on his unruly emotion.
 
"What's the other detail?"

"The Good Magician charges."

"Charges?"

"One year's service for each Question he Answers."

"One year!" he cried, outraged.
 
"That's ridiculous!"

"To be sure," she agreed even more sweetly.
 
Cloying syrup oozed from her pores.
 
"Well, this path leads right to it, so you can't get lost.
 
I have to be going now, to realign with my better half.
 
Bye."

"Now just a long moment!" he said.

But she had already faded out.

GOOD
 
MAGICIAN

Gary gazed at the castle.
 
It looked ordinary, being pretty much like his mental image.
 
There were walls and turrets and pennants and the rest of the usual.
 
But it differed in one significant respect: the moat was dry.
 
The drought must have affected this region too.
 
That was sad.
 
No castle was worth much without water.

D.
 
Mentia had said that there would be three challenges.
 
She was slightly crazy, but she seemed to have been truthful when she wasn't omitting key details.
 
So he would be prepared.

There seemed to be a drawbridge to the side.
 
He bounded toward it, because that was surely better than descending into the caked gunk at the bottom of the defunct moat.

The vegetation closed in with thick brambles.
 
His stone hide couldn't be hurt by brambles any more than by the bites of dogs, but he didn't like getting his finish scratched, so he followed the path that offered.
 
It curved away from the castle, but surely would return to find the drawbridge.
 
It took him into a small forest of cane of all colors, a rather pretty scene.

He came to a glade.
 
There an armored warrior was laboring to harvest some of the canes, looking somewhat tired and sweaty.
 
Perhaps it was someone doing a service for the Good Magician.
 
Maybe he could learn more about this situation.