Pet Peeve
By
Piers Anthony
Contents
Chapter 1 - Finger
Chapter 2 - Parody
Chapter 3 - Spring
Chapter 4 - No Man's Land
Chapter 5 - Bounce
Chapter 6 - Robot
Chapter 7 - Go-Go
Chapter 8 - Zombie
Chapter 9 - Eve
Chapter 10 - Factory
Chapter 11 - Campaign
Chapter 12 - Gwenny
Chapter 13 - Recruits
Chapter 14 - Coordination
Chapter 15 - Battle
Chapter 16 - Lost Things
Chapter 17 - Trust
Chapter 18 - Roland
Chapter 19 - Peve
Author's Note
TOR BOOKS by PIERS ANTHONY
THE XANTH SERIES
Vale of the Vole
Heaven Cent
Man from Mundania
Demons Don't Dream
Harpy Thyme
Geis of the Gargoyle
Roc and a Hard Place
Yon Ill Wind
Faun & Games
Zombie Lover
Xone of Contention
The Dastard
Swell Foop
Up in a Heaval
Cube Route
Currant Events
Pet Peeve
THE GEODYSSEY SERIES
Isle of Woman
Shame of Man
Hope of Earth
Muse of Art
COLLECTIONS
Alien Plot Anthonology
NONFICTION
Bio of an Ogre
How Precious Was That While
Letters to Jenny
But What of Earth?
Ghost
Hasan
Prostho Plus
Race Against Time
Shade of the Tree
Steppe
Triple Detente
WITH ROBERT R. MARGROFF
The Dragon's Gold Series
Dragon's Gold
Serpent's Silver
Chimaera's Copper
Orc's Opal
Mouvar's Magic
The E.S.P. Worm
The Ring
WITH FRANCES HALL
Pretender
WITH RICHARD GILLIAM
Tales from the Great Turtle (Anthology)
WITH ALFRED TELLA
The Willing Spirit
WITH CLIFFORD A. PICKOVER
Spider Legs
WITH JAMES RICHEY AND ALAN RIGGS
Quest for the Fallen Star
WITH JULIE BRADY
Dream a Little Dream
WITH JO ANNE TAEUSCH
The Secret of Spring
WITH RON LEMING
The Gutbucket Quest
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
PET PEEVE
Copyright © 2005 by Piers Anthony Jacob
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
This book is printed on acid-free paper.
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Anthony, Piers.
Pet peeve / Piers Anthony.—lst ed.
p. cm.
"A Tom Doherty Associates book." ISBN 0-765-30408-2 (acid-free paper) EAN 978-0-765-30408-7
1. Xanth (Imaginary place)—Fiction. 2. Quests (Expeditions)—Fiction. 3. Magicians—
Fiction. 4. Goblins—Fiction. 5. Robots—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3551.N73P47 2005
813'.54—dc22
2005041936
First Edition: October 2005
Printed in the United States of America
0987654321
1
Finger
It all started when the stranger gave Goody Goblin the Finger. Goody was annoyed, in fact he was furious, but was far too polite to show it or return it.
That was of course his curse: he was so civil that other goblins couldn't stand him. A goblin male was supposed to be obnoxious, foul mouthed, and disreputable, the crap of the earth. The niceness in the goblin species was confined to females. But those pretty, sweet, and obliging goblinesses generally preferred brutally manly males. It was a fair division of types. Goody came across like a girl.
Oh, he had tried to overcome it. He had even gone to the Good Magician nigh a score of years ago for a way to abate the curse. Magician Grey Murphy had shown Goody that he knew the bad vocabulary when Goody sat on a curse burr. But thereafter he had avoided curse burrs, and so did not curse, and his problem remained. He lacked even the inclination to be crude or mean spirited. Worse, he no longer had even the desire to change; he was satisfied to be the way he was.
He looked at the Finger. It was in a small box with a cushioned bottom. It appeared to be a human center digit, firm and healthy, severed neatly at the base. Along the side of the box was printed MAKE ANYONE MAD—GUARANTEED. GIVE THEM THE FINGER.
It certainly seemed to work. Goody had been mindlessly enraged to receive it, for no discernible reason. There must be a curse associated with it, a spell that oriented on the person who accepted the box. He didn't even know the stranger, in fact had hardly seen him; the rage came regardless.
What was he to do? He couldn't keep the Finger, because its very nearness irritated him unmercifully. He didn't need to look at it; he knew it was there, and that made him boil.
Well, who said he had to keep it? He set the box on a fence post and took a step away.
In a moment something poked him in an infuriatingly private place. He leaped, whirling, coming perilously close to uttering one of those curse-burr words.
It was the Finger, floating out of its box. It had followed him and goosed him. Its direct touch was thrice as worse as its boxed presence. He was so angry that he felt steam rising from his head. This was no good; he couldn't handle such raw emotion; the heat would soon cook his face.
He went back and fetched the box. The Finger obligingly floated into it and lay quiescent. Now it was only normally obnoxious.
So he couldn't leave it behind. He would have to give it away to someone. But how could he do that? That would be unkind, and he was not that sort of person. He did not care to voluntarily annoy any person.
There was a swirl of smoke. "You look like a goblin with a catechism."
"A goblin with a what?" Only belatedly did he think to wonder why and how a swirl of smoke could talk.
"Annoyance, quandary, bother, imbroglio, bafflement, nuisance, confusion, vexation, trouble, snag, pickle, muddle, enigma, pother, dilemma, flaw—" The smoke coalesced into an electrifyingly exotic female human shape. "Well, don't just let me go on forever! How many alternatives do you want?"
"I don't understand."
She frowned, her scant attire drooping to proffer naughty glimpses fore and aft. "You're supposed to suggest the word I'm looking for. Now shall we try again? Aggravation, perturbation, mystery, kink—"
"Problem?"
"Whatever," she agreed crossly. "Who are you?"
"Goody Goblin. So called because—"
"My turn. And I'm the Demoness Metria. I have a slight problem with vocabulary, but I'm more than sexy enough to make up for it."
He was catching on. "I have a problem with vocabulary too. I don't like to use bad words."
She eyed him, her eyes expanding to twice their normal size. "But you're a male goblin! Isn't that a Gordian kn
ot?"
"A what?"
"Poser, heresy, perplexity, asymmetry, irony—"
"Paradox?"
"Whatev—no, wait, that's not quite it. Puzzle, absurdity, contradiction, stupidity—"
"Oxymoron?"
"That's it!" She put on the frown. "I mean, whatever. How can you be a male goblin without cussing?"
"It's not easy, but I have learned to live with it."
"But that wasn't what summoned me. What's that you're holding?"
"A boxed Finger."
"Fascinating! Let me look at it." She reached for the box.
Goody suffered a moment of sinful temptation. Fortunately his better nature prevailed. "You would not care for this."
"I'll be the epicure of that. Give it to me."
This time he refrained from challenging the wrong word. "I would like to, but it wouldn't be kind."
"You little twerp, stop teasing me!" She snatched the box from his hand.
There was a pause, if not pregnant, at least gravid. Then the demoness exploded into a noxious fog. "You gave me the Finger, you bleepity bleep!" The nearby foliage wilted with the heat of the language.
"Well, I tried to warn you."
"Take it back!" The Finger flew through the air and smacked into his hand.
Goody was outraged. "You outrageous—" But words failed him, as they were all well beyond his comfort zone.
Metria re-formed, wearing a different but no less revealing outfit. "Outrageous what?"
"Manure, ordure, dung, feces, stool—"
"Turd?"
"Whatever," he agreed crossly. She had come up with a word he would not have used, but which did fit the situation.
"Now at last I understand the nature of this thing," she said. "It infuriates whoever receives it."
"Exactly. That's its magic. I need to be somehow rid of it, without being unkind to some other person."
She contemplated him, her eyes remaining normal this time. "You are a wonder, Goody Goblin."
"I'm an outcast among my kind. But that's beside the point. What am I to do?"
"Obviously you need to go see the Good Magician Humfrey. Toodle-oo." The demoness faded gracefully out.
He sighed. The problem seemed intractable. Therefore he would have to take it to the Good Magician. Of course that would cost him a year's Service or equivalent, but he did have time on his hands (not to mention the Finger), and a sadness on his soul that could use the distraction.
He set out immediately. There was no point in delaying; he wanted to be rid of the Finger as soon as possible. He knew the way to the nearest enchanted path, and that would lead him safely to Humfrey's castle.
He was in such a hurry that he started a group of bunnies. They hopped out of his way, Jacks and Jills. He could tell because the Jack rabbits wore little trousers, and the Jill rabbits little skirts. It seemed they had been on their way up a hill before he so rudely interrupted them. They were highly annoyed.
Which was surely the fault of the Finger. Its proximity made him behave crudely. He held up the box, to show them the cause, but that made them glare worse.
Goody sighed. He walked away, not trying to explain further. Now he had even more reason to get to the Good Magician's Castle rapidly.
Soon he reached the enchanted path that went the way he was going. That was one of the qualities of such paths, of course: they were not only safe, they were convenient. As he stepped onto it, he encountered two human people just stepping off it. One was a young teen girl with dark brown hair and large deep brown eyes; the other was an older teen boy with tousled light brown hair and shallow brown eyes. They were obviously siblings. Both were twice as tall as Goody, being normally human proportioned.
"Here's another fine mess you've gotten us into," the girl was complaining. "This isn't the path we're looking for."
"But you picked it," the boy protested. "You know my talent."
"Your talent is failure," she retorted. "You always get the wrong answer, make the wrong decision, or pick the wrong path. So I chose the opposite direction—and it's still wrong! How can that be?"
"Well, your talent of dumb luck didn't fix it."
At that point they spied Goody, who was politely waiting for them to pass. "Oh, a goblin!" the girl exclaimed, appalled.
"There must be hundreds more right behind him, all bent on foul mischief."
"Which means there is only this one, and he's all right," the girl said. "I think. So let's ask him how to find our way."
"He won't know."
"Which means he will know. Maybe my talent led us to him." She faced Goody. "Hello, goblin. I am Song Human, and this is my brother Ownlee Human. We're lost. Will you help?"
"I am Goody Goblin. I really don't think I can help you, because—"
Song smiled at him. She was twice as pretty when she smiled, and he felt his knees turning spongy. Girls had that effect on him; he wasn't hardened against their blandishments. "But I'll try."
"How did we get lost, when I chose the opposite direction my brother chose?"
Goody was old enough to have had some experience with opposites. "There may be a reason, but it is complicated to explain."
"Don't you dare talk down to me!" Song snapped, the snaps echoing faintly off the nearby tree trunks. "I'm a grown woman."
Goody was taken aback. "But—"
"I know I look fourteen, but I'm really eighteen."
He hesitated, but she threatened to smile again, so he lurched into his explanation. "The opposite of a wrong is not necessarily a right. It may merely be another wrong. There may be only one right path, but many wrong ones."
Now she did smile. "Oh, I see! We took one of those other wrongs."
"So it seems. Where are you going?"
"To the Good Magician's Castle."
"Why so am I! Do you have a problem for him?"
She laughed, and that had much the effect her smile did. "Oh, no. We just happen to live nearby."
"We took a walk," Ownlee said. "But then when we started back—"
"I understand," Goody said. "If you don't mind traveling with a goblin, I'm sure I can lead the way there. I don't have any magic talent, so my directions are not confused."
"Oh, thank you, Goody!" Song exclaimed. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. He felt like floating, but managed to keep his feet on the ground.
They walked along the enchanted path. There was just room for the three of them abreast. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you going there?" Song asked.
It was impossible to mind anything about her. "A stranger gave me an ugly thing, and I need to find out how to get rid of it."
"What thing?" Ownlee asked.
"I would rather not say."
"Oh, please," Song pleaded.
Goody melted further. "But I must warn you, you won't like it." He held up the box.
Both humans peered into it. Song screamed in shock and Ownlee burst out laughing. "Someone gave you the Finger!" he chortled.
"Ownlee!" Song said severely. "That's disgusting."
"Yeah," her brother agreed, smiling. His smile was not nearly as evocative as hers.
Soon they reached the vicinity of the Good Magician's Castle. "We have to get off here," Song said. "But the next intersection is the Castle, marked by the Memorial."
"The Memorial?" Goody asked.
"Gravestone," Ownlee clarified. "Where other folk croaked."
"Ownlee!"
He was making a social mess, but Goody understood. "I'll watch for it."
"It encourages a person to mourn the tragedies of others," she explained. "It's very sad."
"I'm sure it is."
"You have been such nice company," Song said.
"For a goblin," Ownlee agreed.
Song bent down and gave Goody a hug. "Thank you for showing us the way." Her hair tickled his shoulders, smelling of colorful flowers amid new-mown hay.
By the time he recovered his perspective, the two were gone and he w
as walking on down the path. Song reminded him of a gobliness, pretty and nice, though larger. But that thought brought back his sadness, and he had to walk quickly to leave the mood behind.
Yet the mood stayed with him, and intensified. He couldn't escape it.
He spied the memorial stone. Suddenly he realized what was happening: the stone was causing him to mourn others. The closer he got to it, the worse it was. The grief up close was overwhelming. But then he got past it, and the awful feeling faded.
There ahead was the Good Magician's Castle, surrounded by its moat. He approached it, hoping the Challenges would not be too bad. He came to the drawbridge, which was down.
There was a sign: BEWARE THE LINE OF SIGHT. Goody shrugged; what was there to fear from a line of sight?
But as he sought to cross the bridge, he became aware of something sharp. There was a row of eyes along its rail, staring cuttingly at him. He couldn't get close without getting sliced.
This was evidently the first Challenge. The Line of Sight. How was he to get by them so he could cross the bridge without getting cut?
He looked around, but saw nothing to be used to shield himself from those swordlike beams. Could he wait until dark, and sneak by them? No, because they seemed to glow; they would stab through the darkness and get him. He had to tackle them now.
He pondered, and considered, and cogitated, and thought. He came up with nothing. Go-Go would have thought of something, but she was gone.
Go-Go. Suddenly he was sad again. It tended to happen when he thought too much. This was not the time to be distracted by recurring grief.
Or was it? He hated this, but realized that it just might be the answer.
He faced the Line of Sight. "I have something to tell you," he observed, and saw several eyes wince at the implied pun. That was a good sign. It meant the eyes could hear and understand him, even if they lacked ears, and that they had emotions. That was what he needed.
"I am going to tell you about my beloved wife, Go-Go Gobliness. But first I have to tell you a little about me. You see, I am Xanth's only polite male goblin. It's like a curse; I simply am not inclined to use harsh language. That got me banned from my tribe, and other goblins don't like me."