Yon Ill Wind (17 page)

They came to the cave.  It looked like a rathole, so small that even the imps had to crawl into it.  They set down their burdens and returned to the village.

Midrange watched, as did Woofer and Tweeter.  They weren't fit for carrying, but they could still help.  When the humans returned, each animal showed some of them to a new pile.  That way the imps didn't have to carry the piles to the staging region; they could be picked up directly from the buildings.  When the imps saw that, they increased their efforts to get their wares out on the steps.  There were barrels of beryls, each gem of which was a miniature barrel that would cause anyone who invoked it to bare all.  Men liked to give these to innocent women, the imps explained.

There were lapfuls of lapis, which would cause people to wee-wee unexpectedly; Midrange presumed those were for unfriends or those with certain bodily complications.  There were pails of fire opals, which were little 0-shaped pails that would safely carry fire.  There were chairs loaded with citrines, which were gems that caused folk to sit, and if they then took up a la-trine, they would sing, and more.

There were collections of topaz, which were toe-shaped candies, yellow, peach, white, and blue.  There were tiger eyes, through which one could catch a view of a tiger.  In fact, there were so many kinds of gems that Midrange lost interest long before assimilating them all.

“What kind of goofy creature are you?” an imp demanded.

Midrange stared at the imp, who was no larger than Midrange himself.  “You must be Olite,” he remarked in animal language, not expecting to be understood.

“How did you guess, caterwaul?” the imp asked rudely. “Now, get your carcass out of my way so I can set these 0-nix stones down where your fat rump is.”

Onyx.  To be sure.  Midrange got out of the way.  It was good to know that not all the imps were sickly sweet in the manner of Quieta.

As David came to pick up the collection here, two more imps passed by.  “You know.  End, those huge humans have really helped us,” one said.  “Too bad this is only the beginning of Xanth's mischief.”

“You're right, Asse,” the other replied.  “They have enabled us to save our wares in time, for which we are deeply grateful, but the fate of the rest of Xantb' seems worse.”

“I hope that when we emerge from our safe cave, enough of Xanth remains to make existence worthwhile,”

End said, his tone suggesting that he doubted that would be the case.

The two walked on, checking the various houses to make sure all the goods had been taken.  But Midrange was bothered by their imp-lication.  This wasn't the whole job?

Then what was the point?  He didn't like thinking that they had taken all this trouble to accomplish nothing really significant.

So he ran after David, with whom he could communicate most readily.  The boy was just setting down his last load, as dusk became darkness.  “Meavid!” he said.

David saw him and picked him up.  “What's with you, hero?” he asked, stroking his fur in the way he tolerated.

“Merouble.” Confound this clumsy human speech!

“Trouble?” David asked.  “I thought we just took care of it.  Now we're going to use the accommodation spell and join the imps in their safe cave and wait for the madness to pass.”

Midrange wasn't sure of that.  But he couldn't get through to the boy fast enough, even if he knew exactly what the problem was.  “Meimby.”

“Ask Nimby?  Okay.”

At that point Nimby approached.  He always seemed to know when someone wanted to talk to him.  The imps say there is danger for all Xanth, he thought to Nimby, who could read minds.  What is it?  Can we help?  Tell David.

Nimby wrote a note and gave it to David.  “There is danger!” David cried.  “And we can help.”

Chlorine approached.  “There is more danger?” she asked.

David gave her the note.  She read it and sighed.  “Then I suppose we'll have to tell the others, though I fear this will lead to complications.”

David nodded.  “I guess this isn't great for you, huh? It's more work with the duffers.”

Chlorine tousled his hair.  Midrange saw the effect it had on the boy; if Sean was three-quarters-smitten by her beauty, David was half-smitten.  “Really, I don't mind.  But how did you know to ask Nimby about it?”

“Midrange told me.”

Chlorine looked at Midrange with mock severity.  “So you're the one!” She tousled his fur too.  And he, too, loved it.  There was just something about a stunningly beautiful woman with a nice personality, even if he knew it was all an enchantment made by a donkey-headed dragon.

And the truth was that this was the best adventure Midrange himself had ever had.  It had everything:  a dragon, a damsel, peril, magic, mystery, and madness.  What more could a bored tomcat desire?

Chlorine went to find the adult members of the family.  Jim Baldwin was just returning from his final load of gems.  She intercepted him.  “Excuse me, please—'' She realized that she didn't know how he preferred to be addressed.  “Mundane Father—”

He smiled.  “Call me Jim.”

That made it easier.  “Jim, I have learned that there is more danger.  Not just for the imps, but for all Xanth.  David asked Nimby.  Nimby didn't volunteer it, because it wasn't to us personally.  But—“

“We were able to help the imps, but helping all Xanth is surely beyond our power,” he said.  “We need to use the accommodation spell now and join the imps in their safe cave until the storm passes.”

“The imps are afraid that there will not be much left, after it passes,” she said.

“I'd better talk with Nimby.  The way the wind is rising, we can't delay about a decision.”

“I know where he is.” She led him back to David, Midrange, and Nimby.

“Nimby, what's this about danger for all Xanth, and how does it concern us?'' Jim asked.

Nimby had already written a note.  He gave it to Jim.

“’The storm is unique because it is foreign,' “ Jim read.  “ 'It will continue to grow in strength, and the magic dust it spreads will devastate all of Xanth if not stopped.

Those who live underground, or take cover there, will survive, but those who remain on the ground, in the water, or in the air will suffer grievously.  Most of the vegetation will be blown away.  What remains will be a paltry remnant.  But it is possible for this party to ameliorate it, if we take immediate and effective action, at some risk to ourselves.' “

“Some risk?” Chlorine said.  “But I'm supposed to get you safely out of Xanth.”

“We negated that when we turned back from the border,” Jim remarked wryly.

The other members of the family had assembled during the reading.  “Dad, we have to take that action,” Sean said.

“Yeah,” Karen agreed.

He looked at Mary.  “Yes,” she said grimly.

“But that probably means danger,” he said.  “Nimby surely isn't fooling about 'some risk.' And we're already tired.”

“And all the other folk of Xanth face possible extinction,” Mary said.

He faced Nimby.  “What can we do?”

Nimby was already writing another note.  Jim read it.  He looked at Chlorine.  “It seems we shall have to split up,” he said.

“But I must see you safely out of Xanth!” Chlorine repeated.  “That's my mission.  I can't leave you until then.”

“Nimby believes that you will not be able to accomplish that mission until Xanth itself is secured,” Jim said.  “So it seems we shall have to take the risk.  You must go with Nimby to fetch the windbreaker; we must go to Castle Roogna to get help in enlisting Fracto Cumulo Nimbus in the cause of saving Xanth.”

“Wow!” David exclaimed.

Chlorine was amazed.  She looked at Nimby.  He nodded.

“Well, it will be your fault if I fail to complete the Good Magician's service,” she said.  “I certainly hope you know as much as you think you do.”

Nimby nodded again.  He was so sure he knew, when obviously he couldn't know everything.  That was about the only aggravating thing about him.

Then he wrote another note.  It said:  I know what is going on in Xanth, not what will happen.  I know that Fracto and the windbreaker can save Xanth, but not whether they will.  I know the best way to achieve these things, but not whether they will be achieved.  I do not mean to be aggravating.

And how could she be mad at him?  He was making her beautiful, smart, and healthy, and helping her have the greatest adventure of her life.  “I'm sorry for what I thought,” she said, for of course, he had made her nice, too.  She knew she wouldn't much care about his feelings in her natural state, but she was glad to be the way he had made her.  She felt so much better about herself this way, and not just because of the way others saw her.  She owed Nimby everything.

“Then so let it be,” Jim said.  Chlorine suspected that he, too, was beginning to enjoy this adventure, which was surely quite different from his ordinary life in drear Mundania.  “We shall drive to—” He glanced at the note Nimby had given him.  “Castle Roogna.  We should be able to make it by morning.”

Mary took his arm.  “You have driven enough, dear,” she said.  “I will drive there, while you get some necessary rest.”

Karen stared at her.  “Mom!  You can drive the RV?”

“Stop teasing me, you little bleep,” Mary said with a third of a smile.  Unlike the others, she actually said the word “bleep”; it wasn't a Conspiracy expurgation.

“But how will we find our way there, without Chlorine and Nimby to tell us?” David asked.

“Good point,” Jim said.

Quieta had joined the group.  “We really appreciate the way you helped us complete our task in time, at the expense of your own freedom to leave Xanth,” she said.

“We have not known how to repay you, but now perhaps we can.  We shall provide a guide.”

“But then that person won't be safe in the sanctuary cave,” Mary protested.

“She will be safe at Castle Roogna, perhaps, especially if you succeed in saving Xanth.  Here is my daughter Trenita.” A younger imp woman stepped forward.  She looked to be in her mid-thirties.

“Then we are constrained to accept your kind offer,” Jim said.  “Now I think the madness is closing in; you must close your cave, and we must be on our way.”

So they bid a second parting to the imps, who Chlorine suspected were just as glad not to have to entertain the family in the sanctuary cave, and went their ways.  The Baldwin family piled into their traveling house and moved off, Mary at the wheel, with Trenita Imp lifted into the seat next to Karen.  Chlorine and Nimby saw them off.  It looked as if the vehicle were stretching and twisting like a giant caterpillar, but she knew that was just the effect of the madness.

Then she turned to her companion.  “So how do we find this windbreaker?” she asked.

He wrote a note:  It is one of the possessions of Sending. We must obtain it from the ambitious program.

“Sending!  The one we just messed up to rescue the Mundane pets?  We're doomed.”

Not if we approach him properly.  Sending is rational.

“So how do we approach him?”

We must bring him a suitable gift, and answer his twenty questions.

“Twenty questions?  I may be smart, now, thanks to you, but I'm not sure I could answer that many without a stumble.  What happens if we miss one?”

We become two of Sending's artifacts.

“Nuh-uh, Nimby!  I already have an assignment, and after that I'll have to go home and become dull again.  I can't get locked into slavery for some cold machine.”

But I can answer the questions.

“Oh.  If you're sure.  How do we get there?  It was a long fast ride in the Mundane moving house, and I don't think we could walk that far tonight, even without the interference of the madness, not to mention the wind.” For the wind was rising again, blowing her skirt up and about, and trying to tangle her hair enough to form a pack of snarls.

Now that Sean wasn't here to goggle at her legs, she found this inconvenient.

Nimby led the way to the side of the road.  “But if we go beyond the enchanted limit, monsters can get us,” she said.  But she knew Nimby was aware of that, and wouldn't lead her into danger.

There was a big puff of cotton caught in a tree.  No, it was cloudstuff, she realized.  Maybe some of the cloud that made the Gap Chasm ferry had detached and drifted here.

Naturally Nimby knew where it was.  So she helped him wrestle it out of the snags of the branches and twigs.

But the small cloud wanted to float; they couldn't get it down to the ground.  Then Nimby boosted her up onto it.

She fell into its bowl-like surface, her legs in the air, her skirt halfway to her head.

Nimby climbed up on the other side, and rolled into the cloud bowl.  He, too, landed mostly upside down, but his trousers left him decorous.

“No fair,” she said.  “When I climbed in, I showed my panties to the sky.  You didn't show anything.  And you probably saw my panties, too.”

Nimby nodded.

“And you're not even embarrassed,” she said severely.

He nodded again.

“Or freaked out.” Now she was annoyed.  But then she realized that he was, after all, only a dragon, who didn't see human beings as prospects for anything social.  Why should he care about panties?

She got herself in order and poked her head over the edge of the cloud.  It was still floating, and the wind was blowing it north along the highway at increasing velocity.

So they were being carried in the direction they wanted to go.  Obviously Nimby had known that this would be the case.  The trollway was bare, and the trees along the sides of it seemed to be shifting colors, textures, and natures, because of the distortion by the intensifying madness.  But they also channeled this gust of wind, so that the cloud was floating straight along the channel, and still gaining speed.

“Well, if we're going to float there, let's get some shielding from the wind,” she said.  She took handfuls of the cloudstuff at the rim and shaped it up into higher walls, and then all the way into a dome over them.  The material gleamed faintly, lighting the interior with a gentle yellow glow.  It was fun to work with cloud, because it was so soft and pliable.  “Just the way a woman is supposed to be,” she said as she finished the job.  She didn't have quite enough material to make the dome complete, so she fashioned a round window in the top, through which they could view the stars.  Now they shared a spherical chamber, and apart from a certain bounciness, it was hard to tell that it was moving.

“Now let's get comfortable,” she said, and shaped two pillows for them.  “We can just lie here until we get there.

I'm sure you'll know when that is.”

Nimby nodded.

They floated comfortably along.  But the novelty soon wore off.  Chlorine would have slept, but it was early in the evening, and anyway, she had snoozed while riding in the traveling house.  So she was wide-awake, and becoming bored.

“Nimby, exactly what are you?” she asked.  “I mean, I know you're a donkey-headed dragon who knows what's going on, and you can make me beautiful and yourself handsome.  But I never heard of any creature like you before.  Where did you come from?  What did you do all day?”

Nimby's pad and pencil appeared.  He wrote a note, and gave it to her.  She read it aloud.

“ 'I am a special variety of monster.  I contest endlessly with others of my kind for status.  We live only for games, whose rules are somewhat arbitrary and stringent.  If we violate them, we lose the game.  Some games are brief, while some take centuries.' “

She looked up.  “Centuries!  Your kind must live a long time!” Nimby nodded apologetically.

She resumed reading.  “ 'Status is indicated by the delimiters.  Ordinary status is parentheses, and the next stage is brackets, and braces, and angles, though for convenience we usually just use parentheses.'“

She broke off again.  “You must lead the dullest life imaginable.  Nimby!  No wonder you came to share an adventure with me.  It's bad enough being a donkey-headed dragon, but to be limited, I mean delimited in braces— you poor thing!” She tossed aside the note, which dissolved into a wisp of smoke and disappeared.

Nimby nodded.  Oddly, he looked more relieved than limited.  But Chlorine remained bored, and it was obvious that Nimby's background was even more boring.

So she made a decision.  “Nimby, back when we first got together, I said I would teach you romance, when the right time came.  I think that time is now.  We have a lot of adventure behind us, and probably a lot more ahead of us, but right now we have none.  Since we can't be sure that everything will work out for the best, we might as well make the most of what offers right now.” She glanced at him.  “Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?”

Nimby shook his head.

She laughed.  “You can read my mind, but you can't understand what I'm thinking, because you're really a striped dragon with a donkey head and you don't understand human emotion.  Well, because I know what you are, there can't be anything serious between us, no lasting relationship, just as there couldn't be with young Sean Mundane, though it was fun having him watch me, though the past few hours he ignored me, even when I came perilously close to exposing my—” She severed that unpleasant thought.  “And you will surely never break my heart and make me cry.” Though, oddly.  Nimby did seem to look sad at that point.  “But I do appreciate what you are doing for me.  Nimby, and I think it only fair to repay you in my fashion.  So I'll show you how to act, as if you were really a handsome human man and not a laughably weird exotic creature.  Who knows, the information might come in handy sometime.  And maybe it'll be fun.” She glanced at him again.  “Do you understand anything yet?”

He shook his head.

“Well, you will find out.  I am going to show you how to summon the stork.  Too bad it's not for real.  But we'll pretend it is.  Now I think I have practiced enough with Sean to know what turns a man on.  If I can turn you on, I'll know I'm getting there.  Are you ready?”

Nimby looked doubtful.

Chlorine smiled.  “So we're starting from neutral.  Good.

Now, since you can't speak, I shall have to speak both our parts.  But you can perform the actions for yourself.  It's all like a play put on by the Curse Fiends, and we know we don't mean any of it, but it may be interesting anyway.

Whatever I say I'll do, I'll do, and whatever I say you'll do, you'll do.  Understand?”

Nimby nodded, still dubiously.

“You say with masculine boldness, 'What is your name, pretty girl?' And I flutter my eyelashes demurely and reply, 'Chlorine, handsome man, and what is yours?' And you say, 'I am Nimby.  I'm a dashing dragon of a man.  I have come to take you away from all this.' And I say, 'Oh, sir, how romantic!  I think I will kiss you.' And I do.” She turned to face him, as they lay side by side within the bowl, and kissed him firmly on the mouth.  Despite her artificial dialogue, she was getting into it, and the kiss felt real.  For one thing.  Nimby was kissing her back, so he did understand that much.