"I think this is your scene," Karia said diplomatically. "We should enter the pouch."
Cube had been hoping for the centaur's support, but had to agree. Outsiders weren't supposed to know she had company. Also, Ryver would never even look at Cube if the filly's fine bare breasts were in view. She held out the pouch, and Metria stepped into it, and then Karia put in a fore-hoof and slid inside. Cube was essentially alone.
She approached the house and knocked on the door. She thought it might squish, but it was as hard as ice without being cold.
The door opened. There stood Ryver. "But you're not beautiful!" he said.
Cube suppressed a wince. "But I may be, in due course," she said as evenly as she could manage. "I have a case to make. May I come in?"
"I suppose so," he said, not quite graciously. "At least your legs have improved."
"My legs?" Then she remembered that she was still wearing the sheer stockings Sofia had given her. The female members of her party had not noticed, but the man did. "Oh." She didn't care to explain.
"And your dress looks better."
Cube realized that the underclothing Sofia had given her was causing aspects of her front and back to be more evident, and the dress was cooperating. She was less unshapely than usual, though hardly shapely. "Thank you."
"I lost your mirror."
"It returned to me. It seems I can't give it away after all." She entered, and took a seat on the water bed inside. It was the only furniture; evidently there was no woman's touch. Which meant there was no woman in his life. How wonderful if she could become that woman! When she got beautiful. Then she wouldn't just sit on the bed.
She cut off that thought, as it was premature if not downright unrealistic. "I am not beautiful now, but I will be if I complete the Service for the Good Magician."
Ryver touched a wall and drew a ribbon of water from it. "Come back then."
"I need help performing the Service. I need several assistants. I thought you might like to be one."
"Why?"
"It could be a good adventure."
"I suppose. But I could do that by myself."
How much was it safe to say? "This one might be special."
"How?"
It was not getting easier. "I am not supposed to tell you, unless you become part of the Quest."
He shook his head. "Look, the deal was that you would look me up when you were beautiful. You're only about a tenth of the way there. I don't want to go on a Quest with you."
Why had she bothered to come? But she was here, so she had to argue her case. Anyway, shallow as he might be, she liked him. "When the Quest is complete, I will be beautiful. If you are along, you will be the first man to see me that way. Does that intrigue you?"
He considered, his eyes now focused on her legs. "If you get beautiful all over, you should be able to get any man you want. Why go to the trouble of recruiting me?"
She had probably lost the case. So she had no reason to hold back. "Because I need nine Companions and I wouldn't want to reward any of the local yokels in my home village with my beauty, and you are the only other man I've met who seems halfway decent. Maybe it wouldn't work out with you, but I thought it would be nice to try."
"You know how I turn to water."
"That's your magic. It's a nice talent. I think it would be useful when we need water or have to deal with it."
"If you were beautiful, you wouldn't think so."
So that was it! He had been shunned by beautiful women, so distrusted their motives. "No matter how beautiful I may become, I'll always be plain old me inside. I'd still like you. I still have your water ball." She brought it out.
"It seems like a lot of work for a long shot."
"The Good Magician said my associates would be suitably rewarded. I don't know how, but does that help?"
He rolled the water ribbon into a ball, then bounced it on the clear floor, pondering. "Okay."
"You are committing to the Quest?"
"Sure. What is it?"
She told him.
"You know something?" he said as she concluded. "I like it. But don't expect me to pay any attention to you before you're beautiful."
Obviously he lacked the diplomatic touch of the centaur. But by similar token, he could be trusted, because he spoke his mind bluntly. He lacked subtlety. At such time as he got interested in her, it would be unfeigned. That counted for something. "No attention," she agreed, putting away her ball.
"And you say I have to ride in that bag?"
"The pouch, so no one will know I'm not alone. That will not be arduous; it seems that its occupants are not conscious of the passage of time."
"And that demoness is one, and there's a centaur filly?"
"Yes, D. Metria and Karia."
"Centaurs. They don't wear much."
There was no way around it. He would see Karia soon enough and often enough, on the Quest. "She is bare breasted, yes."
He licked his lips. "Who else is going?"
"Why, I don't know. I hadn't thought that far ahead."
"Let's discuss it. As a group."
So he wanted to see the bare-breasted filly right now. He was a typical man. Cube brought out the pouch and reached in. "Karia."
A hand caught hers. Then the centaur was there, her hoofs on the shiny floor, facing Ryver. His eyes were already beginning to glaze.
"You must be Ryver," she said.
He found his tongue. "And you must be Karia."
The centaur's feet left the floor. Oops--she was drifting off. "Hey!" Cube called. "Come back here."
Karia snapped out of it. "Did it happen again?"
"Yes. I forget to tell Ryver about it."
"About what?" His eyes remained fixed in place.
Cube realized that he hadn't noticed the way the centaur had been carried away by the mention of her name. He had been too distracted by her front.
"About my condition," Karia said. "When I hear my name spoken by someone else, I get carried away. So I must ask you not to speak it in my presence."
"Speak what?"
The centaur turned around, facing away from him. "Do not speak my name in my presence."
"Karia?"
"Snap out of it!" Cube cried.
Because the centaur's rear was in view, instead of her front, this time Ryver saw her hoofs leave the floor. "A bad spell," he said.
"A side effect, yes. I wish to be rid of it. That is why I am undertaking this mission."
Cube remembered to bring out the demoness. She put her hand back in the pouch and spoke her name, and in half a moment Metria was out. "What have I misfired?"
"Have you what?"
"Absence, confusion, miscarry, overlooked--"
"Missed?"
"Whatever," Metria agreed crossly.
"One freakout and one carry-away."
"What and what?"
"Ryver saw Ka--the centaur's bare front, and spoke her name."
The demoness's buxom front turned momentarily bare, but she wasn't facing Ryver, so no damage was done. "Got it. So did he sign up?"
"Yes."
"So where are we going next?"
"We are about to decide."
Metria nodded, her head coming briefly loose from her neck. "Who else do you know who might be useful?"
Cube pondered briefly. "No one."
"The Good Magician didn't give you a list of names?"
"No list."
"Then let's go to Castle Roogna," Ryver said.
Metria glanced at him, her décolletage lowering just enough to catch his full attention. "Why there?"
"Because we have to go somewhere, and I've never been there, and this is a dandy reason to go."
Karia glanced back over her shoulder. "He may have a point. Castle Roogna is the human capital of Xanth, and the folk there surely would know of others who might be good for such a Quest."
"But we can't tell anyone about it," Cube protested.
"We can't tell the specifi
cs, but we, or rather you, can speak generally of wanting company for a private adventure."
"But that's where the king lives! I wouldn't dare go near him."
"Just go to the castle," Karia recommended. "You don't have to approach the king."
Cube dreaded it, but realized that this was probably her best course. "I'll do it," she agreed.
Chapter 4
Princesses
They considered, and concluded that Karia should not carry Cube to Castle Roogna, because the royal folk there were all Magicians or Sorceresses and would be too apt to catch on that she had a secret mission if she traveled that way. So Cube walked along an enchanted path, taking another day. She really didn't mind, because itwas her Quest and she had always liked doing things for herself. Demoness, centaur, and man were in the pouch, relaxing, or whatever it was for folk who had no passage of time. At least they weren't having a party while Cube did the work, she trusted.
The journey was uneventful, because she stayed strictly on the path and the only folk she passed paid her no attention. She realized that that was one big reason the Good Magician had approved her for this Quest, but still it rankled slightly. If Ryver walked along, juggling water balls, he would be noticed, and he was handsome enough so that girls would notice him. Just as Cube had noticed him, despite knowing that he was not the most intelligent or sophisticated man. If Karia trotted along that same path, every human and centaur male would notice her bouncing breasts, lovely face, and flowing mane. She might think that her rear was her prettiest aspect, but a human man would not see that at all if he were approaching her; his glazing eyes would be fixed on her front. And the demoness Metria--she was a conscious flirt and tease, compelling male attention whenever she wanted it, which seemed to be most of the time. Even if she traveled as a floating cloud of smoke, others would notice, especially if she spoke and confused a word.
So Cube was nice and safe, having no attributes to attract the notice of others. Her discontent was ameliorated somewhat by the fact that by the end of this quest, she would be beautiful. Then she would be the one impressing women and attracting men by her mere presence. The magic of a fair face would make people like her and trust her, and the magic of a luscious body would make men desire and love her. The content of her character would have no relevance. There was no power like beauty. Oh, how she ached to possess it!
The day's walk gave her time to ponder other things. She had three of the nine Companions she needed. Wherever was she going to find six more? It had been a challenge to recruit the first three from the people she had met, and now she would have to seek among strangers. There might be a reason for it to be nine--three squared--but it was one daunting task to achieve.
Two young men approached, traveling along the path the other way. Their eyes oriented on Cube's legs, flicked to her face, and promptly returned to her legs. They walked on by without comment.
That reminded her: those stockings made her legs nice. That made her partway noticeable. She would have to remove them.
She sighed and sat on a conveniently placed bench. She lifted one leg and drew off one stocking, then the other. A squirrel was watching from a low branch, but he lost interest when the stockings were off. Now her legs were dull again, like the rest of her. The new underwear made her body a bit less objectionable, but far from interesting; that could stay on. She tied the stockings together and stuffed them into the pouch. Maybe the time would come when she could afford to wear them again. Or when she wouldn't even need them to make her legs sightworthy. There were women who could freak out men simply by changing their stockings as she had just done, and she would love to do that sometime.
She smiled briefly as she resumed walking. It had been nice having Ryver look at her legs as she sat on his bed, and the two who had just passed her. No man had ever done that before. It was just a hint of how things would be when she got beautiful. How she yearned for that day!
A sign said CASTLE ROOGNA--TOMORROW MORNING. She was just as glad, as she preferred to come to the castle fresh, and not have to worry about where and how to spend the night.
A woman was walking the other way on the path. She looked about sixty-two and had a grandmotherly aspect. She also looked a bit lost. Cube had sympathy for lost folk. "Hello. I'm Cube. Is there any way I can help you?"
"Yes, thank you, my dear," the woman said with a Mundane accent. That explained a lot. "I am Sally Graham, and I have been trying to find my way home. I was on my way home from work, there was a crash, and then I found myself here. Now I have no idea where home is."
Cube knew Sally was never going to return to her Mundane home. She would have to find her place here in Xanth. But she didn't want to say that directly. "What do you do?"
"Well, I work at the newspaper--"
That was no good. "I mean, what else? That you really like?"
Sally smiled. "I make cookies all the time and give them to people. In fact around home they call me the Cookie Lady."
Cube smiled. Now she knew the place for this person. "There's a river north of here. It's called the With a Cookee River. Cookies of all kinds grow along its banks. But I understand that sometimes it gets dry, and then the cookies wilt and aren't much good. But maybe if there were someone to take care of them--"
"I must go there," Sally said. "Where is it?"
"You're on an enchanted path. It seems to have signs identifying where you wish to go. Just follow those signs and you should find the river in due course."
"Thank you so much." Sally hesitated, then broached what she evidently took to be an awkward subject. "This region--it seems extremely odd to me. Some of the things I've seen--"
"This is Xanth. It's magic."
"Then I'm not losing my senses?"
"Not at all. Magic happens all the time. Most of it is frivolous, but some is serious. Maybe you will be able to make magic cookies."
"Magic cookies! Now there's an idea. Do you think it would be possible to make fortune cookies that always speak the truth?"
"I don't know, but it seems worthy to try. Maybe you can do it."
"I will find out. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome," Cube said as the woman walked on. She hoped she had directed her well. It was nice to be able to help a person in distress.
As dusk approached she came to a campsite. No one was there. She considered bringing the others out of the pouch, but decided it was best not to disturb them, since they were not aware of any delays. The dull parts of the route were for her to bear by herself. So she would spend the night alone. It wasn't as if the experience were new to her.
Then a man came by. "Hello," Cube said.
"Just stopped for a drink," he said, going to the stream and throwing himself down to take in the water.
"But it's getting dark."
"I live close by. My talent is commanding; I can make anyone do anything, within reason. But it works only once a day, and I've already used it today. So I want to get home." He moved on down the path.
So much for that. She kept meeting men, and kept being brushed off by them. She hadn't even had the chance to exchange introductions. If only she looked better!
Would the man have lingered longer if she had been wearing the stockings? She brought them out of the pouch and considered. If she donned these, and sat with her knees lifted...No, she was right for this Quest as she was, highly ignorable. She put the stockings back in the pouch.
She picked a potato pie from a pie tree, and an eye scream stick, which screamed faintly as she took it. But the milkweeds had no pods. Well, she could drink water from the streamlet that cut across one corner of the camp. She also had potable water Sofia had packed. She fetched a cup from the shelter shelf. Then she remembered the jug of cider, and reached into the pouch. "Cider," she murmured, and her finger found its eyelet. She drew it out and poured herself a cup. It was just beginning to turn, which gave it a pleasant tang. Of course it made her turn around several times as she drank it, but that was part of
the fun of it.
Overall, it was a good meal. Still, it would have been better if there had been someone to share it with. Someday, she trusted, there would be.
She checked for pillows, but there were only green ones, not properly fluffy, and no proper bedding. This camp must get a lot of traffic, using up its facilities. But maybe Sofia Socksorter had anticipated this too. Cube reached into the pouch. "Pillow."
Something nudged her fingers. She hauled it out: a wonderfully big soft pillow, scented faintly of new-mown hay. She reached in again. "Blanket." She caught a corner and brought it out, similarly nice. She had not been overly impressed by Sofia at first, but her appreciation was growing. The woman surely made a very comfortable home for the Good Magician.
She brought out Ryver's water ball and stared into its liquid center. It made her feel closer to him. It didn't care that she was not yet beautiful.
She slept well. It was as if the path's enchantment extended to sleep itself, so that no bad dreams or restlessness intruded. She could really get to like such traveling, if only she had compatible company.
In the morning she set out for the castle, refreshed. The path curved pleasantly, and she found herself curious about what was beyond the next turn or hill, though of course all she had to do was keep walking and she would find it. Then she almost collided with a man going the other way. "Apology," she said.
"My fault," he said. "I was looking through things and not watching where I was going."
"Through things?"
"My talent," he explained. "I make solid things appear like quartz, so I can see through them. Like this." He gestured at a tree.
Cube looked. The tree was now transparent, and she could see right through it. "That's a marvelous talent!"
"Now all I need to do is find a nice woman who thinks so," he said, and moved on.
He hadn't recognized her as a woman. That dampened her outlook, though it was hardly the first time.
She walked on, and soon she saw the highest turrets and pennants of the castle. It was surrounded by a large orchard, which turned out to have an enormous variety of magical trees and bushes. One section seemed to be an extensive graveyard. She paused by it, wondering who was buried there.