Isle Of View (6 page)

“No one ever does,” Electra agreed heartily. She ducked as a bold heart came at her head, and was caught in the rear by another.

She still held the big heart that had hit her chest. It was oddly passive now, though she wasn't holding it hard. She realized that her electrical nature might be affecting it. That heartened her, because it might offer a solution to this challenge.

Her magic talent was electricity. She was constantly building up a charge, and could discharge it all at once by delivering a hefty shock to some monster or gradually as when she made an electrolytic environment for the Heaven Cent. She had heard that hearts used electric pulses to time their beats or something. Maybe these wild hearts were just out of control, and so were attacking anything in the vicinity. If she could put her hands on them and use her electricity to get their pulses even, maybe that would tame them.

She let the big heart go. It floated away, passive, beating steadily, seeming at peace with the world.

She watched for the next, and when it zoomed in she grabbed it. The thing tried to slip out of her grasp, but she clutched it to her. It was hot, and it almost burned her, but she knew it was only heartburn. In a moment, as her hands retained contact, the heart became passive. Then she let it go, and it floated peacefully away. It was working!

“What are you doing, 'Lectra?” Nada called from the moat.

“I'm making a better pace for these hearts,” Electra replied. “They're wild because they're out of control.”

“You're a good pacemaker,” Nada agreed, watching the orderly hearts floating away. “Don't break any!”

“We don't want any broken hearts,” Electra agreed as she caught another. She doubted she could ever be a heart-breaker.

Finally every heart was tamed. Electra was a little sad to see the last one drift contentedly off, but she knew it was only heartache. She had surmounted the second challenge.

She went to the moat and washed off the blood. She hoped the tame hearts found good bodies to occupy, because they seemed very warm and friendly and would probably do good service if treated well. She couldn't blame them for being wild, when they were cast out into the world alone.

They emerged from the moat and walked on. Nada's dress was now as wet as Electra's, because she had had to wash it, but it still looked ten times as good on her as anything Electra had ever worn had ever looked on her. They came to an arched gate and went through it, into the castle. There was a long narrow hall ahead.

But there was something oozing from the far gate. It looked lumpy and red and sticky, as if a thousand wild hearts had been squished and dumped in a sodden mass. Was this where the hearts had come from? No wonder they had been wild!

Nada sniffed. Then she reached down and put a finger to the mess, and tasted it. “I thought so: strawberry.”

“You mean it's edible?” Electra asked, amazed. “We're supposed to eat our way through it?”

“I hope not! Strawberry jam is horribly fattening.”

“That wouldn't stop me. I can't put on weight no matter how much I eat. That's my problem.”

“That's not your problem!” Nada flared. "You're beautifully slender!''

“I'd trade my figure for yours anytime!”

“If I eat any of that jam, you won't want my figure,” Nada said. “I'd be so fat I could roll without pulling in my arms or legs.”

Electra tried to picture that, and found it hilarious. But it didn't come out as a healthy laugh, or even a girlish giggle, just a foolish titter.

She dipped a finger and tasted the jam. “No, this isn't strawberry, quite. It's too metallic. Not hayberry either. And look—those aren't exactly berries. They're moving around.”

Nada peered. “You're right! Some are bigger than others, and they're sort of square. They keep nudging up to each other and stopping.”

“Until something else gets out of the way,” Electra added. “Only things seem to be much better at getting into the way than out of it.”

“And the total effect is one of absolute gooey crawl,” Nada said. “Not one berry can get where it's going before all the others do, so they are all made maddeningly slow.”

“I think I tasted something like this, once, hundreds of years ago,” Electra said. “It was a kind of berry growing in a circle, a—a traffic circle. The berries just kept rolling around and around it until they wore out.”

“Those must have been crazy berries!”

“Traffic berries. They're always moving around, except when they get stuck in—”

“Traffic jam,” Nada concluded. “And this is one big mess of jam!”

“Yes, it's awful. How can we get by it?” They watched the jam ooze its way onward. “There's no help for it,” Nada said reluctantly. “We'll just have to slog through it. I hope I can take a bath at the other end.”

Electra sighed. “I'll go first. I have less to lose.”

“No, you don't! You have more to win.” Nada stepped into the jam.

Immediately she slowed to a crawl. She tried to move her feet, but there was always something in the way. The jam wouldn't give her any chance to get anywhere. “This is no good!” Nada gasped. “I can't move!” Electra reached out to take her hand. “I'll pull you out.” But though she did pull, Nada remained stuck in the traffic jam.

“There has to be a better way!” Nada said. “I'm just getting caught worse!”

“Change into a small snake, so I can lift you out,” Electra suggested.

Nada did so. She became a garter snake, whose garters had nothing to attach to. Electra closed her hand carefully about the body and pulled, but the snake's tail was hopelessly caught. She just couldn't get free. Finally she changed back to human form, so that she could stand on her own without getting in deeper.

Electra put her hands to her head and ran some current through it, making her brain strain. This enabled her to force out an idea. “Maybe if we could get the jam to go somewhere else,” she said, “and leave us here.”

“But that's the problem,” Nada objected. “It can't move anywhere very fast.”

“The traffic berries in it can't move fast,” Electra said. “But maybe the whole thing can—if it wants to.”

“But what could make it want to?”

Electra fished in her knapsack. “I saw something in my calendar about a festival or something.” She pulled out a battered copy of a Xanth calendar and leafed through it. “Yes, here it is! A jamboree!”

The traffic jam quivered.

“But isn't that—” Nada started.

“Yes. It will occur in the Gap Chasm.”

The jam began to move. It slid slowly, then more swiftly out of the hall, carrying Nada along with it. Soon it was going at a respectable speed. Electra grabbed onto Nada again, and hung on, and the jam moved onward so rapidly that it lost cohesion and let her feet go.

A moment later they watched the jam sliding on across the moat. There was no question: it was headed for that jamboree. Electra had guessed right; no jam could resist something like that.

“Didn't you make a teeny fib?” Nada asked. “There's no party at the Gap!”

Electra showed her the calendar. “I didn't say it was a party. I said it was a Jamboree. And here it is.” She pointed to it.

“The month of Jamboree,” Nada said, “But—”

“Right here in the calendar,” Electra agreed. “It occurs in the Gap, just as it does everywhere else in Xanth at the same time. The traffic jam is sure to find it, in due course.”

Nada shook her head. “I suppose that jam wasn't going anywhere else fast anyway,” she said, resigned.

“But we are—quick while the passage is clear.” She hauled Nada along into the castle. The naga woman let herself be towed, deciding it wasn't worth further protest.

The passage ended in steps that led to a door, and beyond the door was Ivy. She was in a yellow dress that complemented her pale green hair. She was Nada's age, but not as luscious. In that respect she fell more or less between Nada and Electra. “Oh, how wonderful to see you two again!” she exclaimed, hugging each in turn. “Why didn't you tell us you were coming?”

Both Nada and Electra stared at her, caught between astonishment and outrage. Then Ivy's mouth quirked, and in a moment all three were lost in girlish laughter.

“Well, come on,” Ivy said as they subsided. “I think Grey's had time to research the Answer now.”

Electra nodded. There was reason for the challenges. Not only did they discourage those who weren't really serious, they gave the Magician time to get the necessary information. Few folk knew this, but Nada and Electra were Ivy's closest friends and were privy to some pretty formidable secrets.

Grey Murphy was in the upstairs chamber with the Book of Answers. There were those who claimed there was no such book, but that was just because they hadn't seen it. It had answers to every question; the only problem was figuring out how to read them and understand them. Grey had been working on it for three years now and was getting better, but he still had to scramble at times.

“We'll dispense with the year of service,” Grey said with a smile. “Ivy says her friends are exempt, or else.”

“We thought as much,” Nada agreed with an answering smile. “Are you ready for our Question?”

“I think so. But I'm afraid you won't much like the Answer. Are you sure you want to ask?”

“Yes,” Electra said. “We don't have much time.”

“Very well. Ask.”

“Where is Che Centaur?”

Grey stared at her. “What?”

“She said, 'Where is Che Centaur?' ” Nada said. “You know, Chex's foal.”

“But—” Grey looked baffled.

Nada frowned, managing to look beautiful at the same time. “What's the matter—did we ask the wrong Question?”

“I just researched the problem of your betrothals!” Grey exclaimed.

It was Nada and Electra's turn to stare. Then both burst into laughter. “We never thought of that!” Electra cried.

“That's next week's problem,” Nada added.

Grey brushed his hair-colored hair back and looked sheepish. It was a fairly easy expression for him. “I guess I was too busy with technicalities. I just assumed—” He shrugged. “This presents a problem.”

“You mean you don't know where Che is?” Electra asked, “because you were checking into our triangle problem? I guess that's a problem, all right.”

“Maybe the mirror knows,” he said. Most magic mirrors were fairly transparent, but some were brighter than others.

He rummaged in a drawer and brought out a hand mirror. “The problem with this one is that it has to be questioned in rhyme, and the format's limited, and it isn't always quite current.” He pondered for a moment, then addressed it: “Mirror, mirror, in the desk, is Che Centaur picturesque?”

“That query is grotesque!” the mirror responded, matching the rhyme. But a scene showed on it, of the little centaur tied, hobbled, and guarded by goblins.

Nada, Electra, and Ivy stifled similar exclamations of horror. He had been stolen by goblins!

“But there are several goblin tribes,” Nada said. “There're the goblins of Mount Etamin that my folk war against—”

“And the goblins east of the Element of Earth,” Electra added.

“And the Goblinate of the Golden Horde,” Ivy said with a shudder.

“There are goblins all over Xanth,” Grey said. “There are references to them in many of Magician Humfrey's papers. Most of them live well underground. But the mirror showed a surface scene. That limits it somewhat.”

“Can you ask the mirror to be more specific?” Electra asked.

“No, it will only answer a given question once. Also, this could be from several hours ago. I'm afraid I'll have to research it in the Book of Answers.” He looked glum.

“How long will that take?” Electra asked, concerned.

“Probably several more hours. It's not the sort of Answer I'm good at finding, yet.”

“But Che's in danger now We can't wait several more hours!”

Nada leaned toward him, her wet dress clinging and heaving in the way that no dress ever did on Electra. “Isn't there some other way, Grey?” she breathed.

“Find a way,” Ivy said quickly. Her mouth was momentarily grim. One might almost have thought she didn't want Nada having to ask him any more questions.

“What?” Grey seemed distracted for a moment. Nada's dresses tended to have that effect on men, even when dry. It was a good thing her pink panties weren't showing, Electra thought, or he would have been unable to speak at all. “Oh, yes. Maybe the ghost writer.”

“Who?” Electra asked.

“He's a ghost doing his year's service for an Answer,” Ivy explained. “But he's very shy, and doesn't speak or show himself to others. So when he has to communicate, he writes.”

“But how would a ghost know about something like this? Isn't he tied to his place of death?”

“No, this one is able to travel,” Grey said, “because he's not associated with any one locale; he can operate anywhere. He moves very quickly, so may be foggy on details, but he should be able to give us a general notion.”

“Well, ask him, then,” Electra said impatiently.

Grey frowned. “He may not answer.”

“But if he's doing service—”

“He's nervous about goblins,” Grey said. “It seems that the Goblinate of the Golden Horde caught him and cooked him in a pot. That's how he died. He hasn't been the same since. He says it was a bad review. Writers don't like bad reviews.”

Electra was able to appreciate that. She wouldn't have cared to get potted like that herself.

“So we don't like to push him, where goblins are concerned,” Ivy said.

Electra looked helplessly at Nada. What were they to do?

But Nada had a notion. “Is he here now?”

“In the castle, yes,” Grey said. “I can call him. But—”

“Tell him I'll let him kiss me, if he can tell me where Che is,” she said. “And give him a good view. I mean, review.”

She had been right the first time, Electra thought. Nada's dress clung to her tightly, except where it was forced to jump the gap across her heaving bosom. If the ghost floated close enough to kiss her, he would get the best view available in Xanth.

“That might encourage him,” Grey said. He looked into blank air. “Ghorge—” He paused, evidently waiting for the ghost. “We would like to know which goblins have captured Che Centaur. Nada Naga, the woman with the—” He hesitated, his eyes traveling across wet assets and valley-hurdling cloth, until Ivy made a frowning ahem. “The amazing, uh, dress, she, er, will let you kiss her, if you answer.”