Man From Mundania (43 page)

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Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Princesses, #Magic, #Epic, #Fantasy fiction; American, #Xanth (Imaginary place)

BOOK: Man From Mundania
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tured it, then he should be able to restore it. If he had not

been the one responsible for what had happened, then he

hoped that whatever was responsible would play along.

 

How should he go about this? Well, if it had been his

will that did it to this pool and the hate spring, maybe his

will could restore it. So he concentrated on the water,

which was now quite clear. He willed for it to be restored,

and for the pale rose color to return, since that was evi-

dently the signal of its potency. Be wine again!

 

Was there a flicker of something? He squatted and

touched the water with one finger, willing the color to

 

intensify.

 

Immediately the water turned a rich red.

Alarmed, he straightened up and stepped back. What

had he done? That was too much color!

 

A Maenad scooped up a palmful of water and sipped it.

Her eyes went round. "Blood!" she exclaimed.

Oops! Grey looked at Nada with dismay.

"Blood?" another Wild Woman asked. Then several

more scooped up sips. "Blood!" they agreed. "Blood-

flavored wine!"

Grey edged back. If they could get a running start—

 

' 'Oh thank you, Magician!'' the Maenad spokesnymph

exclaimed. "This is so much better than before! Now we

can satisfy both our thirsts at once!"

 

"Quite all right," he said benignly. Then Nada took his

arm, and they walked back down the path.

 

The Maenads, jubilant, clustered around the pool, guz-

zling the water as if there were no tomorrow. They paid

no further attention, to the two visitors.

 

Grey was almost floating, not because of their escape

but because of this vindication of his magic. He had tried

to turn the pool pink, and when that was slow he had tried

for full red—and with his touch it had gone all the way!

No one else could have known what he was thinking, so

it had to have been his own effort. His own magic. He did

have magic!

 

But the riddle remained: how could he have a magic

talent when he was Mundane? Everyone agreed that no

Mundane had magic. Could everyone be wrong?

 

"We had better get back to Ivy and Electra," Nada

said. "I don't like the sound of that Python going after

them!"

 

The Python! Grey was tired, but that abruptly passed.

"I'll run! You get small and get into my pocket! We've

got to get there as fast as we can!"

 

"Right you are. Magician!" she agreed with a wan

smile. She held his hand, leaned over his arm (oh, that

body!), and became a snake spread across his hand and

forearm. He lifted her to the breast pocket. Then he began

to run.

 

He had no idea what he would do if he encountered the

Python. He just knew he had to get there before Ivy did.

 

Then, abruptly, he stopped. How could he be sure of

finding Ivy and Electra quickly? He had only a vague no-

tion of the layout of this mountain and its bypaths, and

Nada had no better knowledge. They could blunder about

for hours while the Python caught and gobbled the girls!

 

Nada's snake head poked out of his pocket, question-

ingly. "We need a guide," he said. "Someone who knows

every wrinkle of this mountain, so we can go directly to

 

 

 

 

Man from Mundania
       
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198
       
Man from Mundania

 

the most likely place, and get around the Python if we

 

have to."

 

The snake head nodded, but without full conviction. He

 

knew why: where could they get such a guide on such

 

short notice?

 

The answer was obvious: one of the Maenads.

Grey turned about and marched back to the blood-wine

 

spring. "Ahem."

 

The clustered Maenads jumped. "Oh, Magician, don't

change your mind!" the spokesnymph cried. "We have

done nothing more to annoy you!"

 

"I want a guide," Grey said. "Someone who knows

 

this mountain perfectly."

 

"We all know it, Magician! If this is your demand, we

must accede. Choose one of us to serve." And the Mae-

nads lined up, setting their jaws, each obviously hoping

 

he would not choose her.

 

This was no good! He needed a willing one, who would

do her honest best. "Ah, er, a volunteer. Someone who

wants to do it, to help me find my friends."

 

They burst into cruel laughter. "Magician, none of us

want to help anyone! We are wild, bloodthirsty women!

We are tame only for the brief time it takes to lure an

unwary man close enough for the pounce, when he takes

us for succubi." There was more laughter; they found such

 

an error hilarious.

 

This wasn't getting anywhere. If he pushed his luck,

they might forget their fear of him, and that could be awk-

ward. But he still needed that guide.

 

"Well, er, maybe if one of you can pretend to be tame

for this one task, in return for an, er, reward." He didn't

know what reward he could sincerely offer, but was sure

that none of them would do it unless either threatened or

 

rewarded generously.

 

"Help someone for hours?" the spokesnymph de-

manded. "Impossible!"

 

But one Maenad came forward. "I—I might."

The spokesnymph shot her a withering glance. "That's

right, Mae! You're always the last to rip out a gobbet of

flesh. It's almost as if you don't really like hurting folk!"

 

"That's a lie!" Mae cried fiercely. But her attitude sug-

gested that it wasn't. It seemed there were misfits even

among the Wild Women.

 

"Very well," Grey said briskly. "Come along, Mae.

Can you smell the trail of a normal woman?"

 

"Yes, very well," Mae agreed.

 

"Then sniff out the trail of the two young women who

were with us before. We want to reach them before the

Python does."

 

"They took the other fork," Mae said. She set off at a

run, her bare bottom twinkling.

 

Grey watched for a moment. Then the snake wriggled

in his pocket, reminding him that he was not here to watch

twinkling bottoms. Embarrassed, he lurched into his own

run, following Mae.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 11 • Python

 

•vy hated to see Grey go, but the Maenads were

coming and there was no time to argue. She saw him col-

lide with Nada, and Nada changed into her snake form

and disappeared, apparently hanging onto him. Well, at

least he would have competent help? She dreaded what

would happen to him alone.

 

Electra was already running up the path, her walking

stick jumping. Ivy enhanced her own stick, and it practi-

cally propelled her along the same route. If only their party

hadn't gotten divided, maybe they all could have hidden!

 

It worked: the Wild Women went charging up the other

fork, attracted by Grey's foolish yelling. But now what was

he going to do? He didn't have the first notion about sur-

vival in Xanth!

 

She remembered the magic mirror. But she had as-

sumed that she would be in the middle of whatever trouble

occurred. If she used it, she would have to explain that

the one in trouble was somewhere else, and by the time

help got there, it might well be too late. Oh, what an awful

 

pass this was!

 

"Nada will help him!" Electra said, divining Ivy's con-

cern. "She can become a pretty big serpent and hold them

off. And Grey—there's something about him."

 

"I had noticed," Ivy said, smiling briefly. Electra was

 

200

 

Man from Mundania

 

201

 

right: Grey had gotten through some phenomenal scrapes,

such as with the goblins, despite his ignorance of magic.

 

"And he has a talent!"

 

Ivy paused. "What?"

 

"The Muse—she said she couldn't tell us about his tal-

ent, but it wouldn't be long before we knew. That means

he does have one!"

 

Ivy was amazed. "Why—so she did! But what could it

be?"

 

"Maybe something he needs right now, 'cause she

didn't say he was going to be in real trouble. Maybe he

can make Wild Women fall in love with him—"

"That's very reassuring," Ivy said sourly.

Electra was embarrassed. "I mean, maybe, that is,

he would not love them—who would love a Maenad?—but

if they—well, maybe something else, like turning into a

dragon."

 

"Maybe." Ivy felt light-headed, thinking about the

prospect of a talent for Grey. That meant they could marry!

 

They stopped climbing, as it was obvious that the Mae-

nads were not coming this way. Grey's ploy had worked,

but now it was hard to know what to do. If they went back

too soon they might run into the Maenads, but if they

waited too long and Grey needed help—oh, this was aw-

ful!

 

Then their problem was solved, in a worse way. They

heard a quiet rustling down the trail. Something was com-

ing up, and it didn't sound like Grey.

 

In a moment the huge head of a monstrous serpent

rounded a turn. It was the Phython!

 

"Run!" Ivy cried.

 

But the great baleful eyes of the creature caught them

both before they could act. They stood transfixed, unable

to move or even to speak.

 

The head was so big that the jaws could take in either

one of them without difficulty. The sinuous body was ob-

viously able to digest them. They were this serpent's prey!

 

"Aaaah, young women!" the Python hissed, seeming

to speak. "My favorite repast! But first you must worship

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