The Sorceress Iris seemed somewhat out of sorts. Gary realized that it might have been polite to pretend some sort of interest in her, of the sort that he presumed a human man his seeming age and health would have. But there was just no denying the fact that she was not a gargoyle.
“The follies of the human folk seldom cease to amuse demons,” Mentia remarked as she glanced at the passion vines. “Would you like me to assume the shape of a gargoyle?”
“Of course not. We gargoyles never confuse any other creature for one of us. No others can hope to match our impressive ugliness.”
“To be sure,” the demoness agreed, still amused.
They followed the giant's footprints on into what seemed to be the very center of the Region of Madness, though Mentia explained that this could not be so, because the center was the Magic Dust Village. Nevertheless, the maddening effects remained, with the trees coming to resemble enormous sea monsters, and sometimes acting like them too. Iris had to use her illusion frequently to fend them off, and Hiatus was kept busy growing loathsome hairy excrescences on those branches that weren't daunted by the illusions. When both these measures failed, Mentia assumed the form of a tree-chomping huge-a-saur and crunched off their reaching limbs.
Still, they were glad when the jungle thinned somewhat, and they climbed through a moderate range of hills. The hills themselves resisted their passage, becoming mountainous and angling their slopes unexpectedly so as to cause the travelers to lurch into treetrunks or boulders and bash their own noses.
“I think I know of these hills,” Mentia said. “They're called the Poke-a-nose.”
At last they emerged onto a level plain. That was a relief, because their noses were pretty sore by this time. But they were wary, knowing that soon enough some new threat would materialize.
Here the trees were somewhat stunted, though the madness was frighteningly strong. Gary, who specialized in stone, discovered why: “There is hardly any place here for their roots to gain purchase. The ground is covered with chunks of stone.”
“Doesn't stone underlie most land?” Hiatus asked.
“Deep down it does,” Gary agreed. “But it is usually covered by layers of sand and soil, so that plants can get purchase. These seem to be artificially carved stones, perhaps parts of buildings that collapsed. Some seem to form ancient roads. So there just isn't much soil, and the plants can't make much progress. This is our fortune, because most of the plants here seem to be hostile.”
“I wonder,” Iris mused. “The trees and plants around Castle Roogna do their best to repel unfriendly strangers.
But it isn't malice; they were instructed to do that, to protect the castle. They also did their best to encourage any Magician to remain there. So maybe we simply don't properly understand these particular plants.” Then a nettle vine tried to curl around her ankle and yank her into the bed of nettles. “But I could be wrong,” she said as an afterthought.
“Whatever they were in the past, they must be different now,” Hiatus said. “Because the madness changes everything.”
Surprise found a stone in the general shape of a chair.
She crossed her eyes, and it quivered and started walking. The child jumped up onto it and rode in style for a while, until a leg tripped on an irregularity in the ground and the animated chair toppled, dumping her out.
They continued to follow the giant's tracks. The stones in the ground became larger, and some rose up above the ground, presenting ragged silhouettes. “These are definitely artificial,” Gary said. “I mean that they have been quarried and moved here. I begin to see the outlines of large buildings.”
“Then we must have found the ruins,” Mentia said.
“Maybe our quest is almost done.”
“That would be nice,” Gary agreed doubtfully. “But finding the ruins is only one step. We have to find the philter. And we have to try to find a way to save Desiree's tree. I don't see either, yet.”
Iris gazed ahead at the barren plain. “This is a wasteland, for sure. It seems to me that if the philter were here, it would be purifying water, and making an oasis or something. But all I see are more ruins.”
Gary had to agree. But what could they do, except search the ruins as well as they could, hoping to find what they sought?
“Now that's odd,” Mentia remarked, staring up at a particularly large stone set endwise in the ground.
The others looked too. Gary saw that it seemed to consist of two stones, connected at the top with a band of a different kind of stone. “Odd?” Hiatus said. “That's downright weird! Why prop two stones together like that?”
“To make an arch?” Iris suggested.
“Too narrow,” Mentia said. “Far too narrow. Those stones are right together, so that no one can pass between them, let alone have anything useful here.”
Surprise approached the stones. Then claws extended from her hands and she dug them into the stone and pulled herself up, climbing to the linked top. She inspected the connection. “Hinge!” she announced.
“A stone hinge?” Iris asked. “Ridiculous.” But she reconsidered immediately. “Yet that does look like what it is. A hinge made of stone, connecting the two big stones.”
“Why would a stone be hinged?” Hiatus asked. “It would take a giant or a pair of ogres to lift up one of these stones; they each are the size of small buildings.”
“And neither giants nor ogres go in for fancy construction,” Mentia said. “Only humans and termites do, as a rule, and termites don't ordinarily work in stone.”
Gary considered the matter. “Gargoyles don't work stone,” he said, “but we do appreciate it. I would say that this is one support for a fancy building. One stone is set deep into the ground, while the other rests on top of the ground; that second stone could be lifted to a horizontal position and connected to another stone column, here.” He touched a nearby pillar. “Other stones could be lifted similarly, and form a solid roof for the building. I see columns appropriately placed all around.”
“You do?” Hiatus asked. “I see nothing but lumps of broken stone.”
“They are broken, but they are in a pattern. See, here is another hinged column, and there is one whose hinged stone has broken off. This city has been destroyed by time and weather, but it once contained some marvelous buildings.”
The others shook their heads, not seeing it. But to Gary it was clear enough. He wished he could show them his vision of stone. But they weren't gargoyles.
They walked on through the ruins, but found nothing special. There might have been greatness here a long time ago, but it was forgotten now—and had been forgotten long before the madness overran it. And there was no philter they could find. They searched all day, but only succeeded in getting more tired and depressed. Even Surprise had become bored and passive.
In the center of the plain was a sodden pool. It was overgrown with disreputable weeds that hissed at anyone who tried to dip water, but Hiatus grew some truly loathsome shapes on them, and they shut up. This was as good a place as any to camp for the night.
This time Iris did not try to bother Gary, to his relief.
She did try to distract Hiatus, but Hiatus could think only of Desiree. She finally made herself a fancy pavilion of illusion and retired there with Surprise, who formed her own smaller pavilion within it.
Gary lay on his human back and stared up at the stars.
He was familiar with the constellations, having contemplated them many rimes over the centuries. But tonight something was wrong; he didn't recognize any of them.
Instead he saw a merman swimming through a field of grazing mice. The merman spied Gary watching and mouthed words at him: WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING UP HERE FOR, GARGOYLE?
“Where are the regular constellations?” Gary demanded.
“We are the regular constellations,” the merman retorted angrily.
“Not where I came from.”
“You are not where you came from, stone-heart.” And the merman and
mice glared. “You are from the dull side of the veil.”
Gary thought about that, and concluded it was true.
“This is the Region of Madness, so it figures that there are mad constellations.”
“You got that right, man-rump.”
“How long have you been here, fishtail?” Gary asked, responding in kind.
The merman mellowed insignificantly. Perhaps it had been some time since anyone had taken him seriously. “As long as the madness has reigned.”
“Then you must have seen these ruins back when they were a magnificent stone city.”
“How do you know about that?” the merman demanded.
“I'm a gargoyle. We admire stone. I wish I could see this one as it was in its greatness. Perhaps there were gargoyles here.”
“There were, along with all manner of other creatures. But it was doomed.”
“I wonder whether they had the philter,” Gary said musingly.
“The philter!” the merman exclaimed. “You're after that?”
“Yes, it's my quest. Do you know where it is?”
“Don't fetch it!” the merman cried, alarmed. “It's dangerous. Return to your own side of the veil.”
“So it was here!” Gary exclaimed. “And it must still be here, because it isn't mortal the way flesh folk are. I must have it.”
“Cease this disaster,” the merman said. “I'll not help you recover that thing.” And he swam away with such force that his tail stirred up the entire field of mice, and the scene blurred into blah.
But Gary now knew that his quest was not in vain. The philter was here among the ruins—if he could just find it.
Chapter 6
ANIMATION
In the morning the others were ready to give up the quest, except for Surprise, who was busily searching for colored pebbles, but Gary would have none of it.
“I know the philter is here,” he said.
“How do you know?” Iris asked disdainfully.
“The constellation told me.”
“The what?”
“The merman constellation I saw in the sky last night.
He saw the city before it was in ruins, and he said the philter was there. He told me not to fetch it.”
“A talking constellation?” Hiatus asked.
“Remember, we are in madness,” Mentia said. “These things happen.”
Iris sighed. “So they do. I seem to remember Bink saying something about talking constellations. But they weren't trustworthy.”“
“Except that this one was trying to prevent me from finding the philter. So it must be where I can find it.”
“Mad logic,” Mentia said. “It will do. But how shall we find it, since we've already looked and failed?”
“The secret must be in the stone,” Gary said. “I can read stone. I just need to find the right one.”
“You mean an obelisk?” Iris asked. “Something with writing on it?”
“Not exactly. I merely need a stone that has seen things at the right time.”
“What nonsense is this? Stones can't see anything!”
“Not the way we do,” Gary said. “But they do see, and they can be read by gargoyles. But the process is slow, and meaningless if the stone hasn't seen what is needed.”
“And what exactly is needed?” she demanded.
“The philter, of course. But it may be as hard to find a stone that has seen it as it is to find the philter itself. So I shall search for a stone that has seen the old city in its heyday. Maybe there will be a hint there.”
“Now look,” Iris said impatiently. “Hasn't every stone here been part of that city? So they all have seen it, haven't they?”
“But many faces of stone are turned inward; they see only what was inside the building, and perhaps only the back of whatever carpets were hung on those inner walls.
The walls facing outward may see only alley streets or things piled up before them. I need a stone face that has seen the whole city, or enough of it to enable me to see it too.”
“You to see it too?” she asked skeptically. “Because of this mysterious writing on it?”
“Oh, there would be no writing on it, unless some human person did that. I read the stone itself.”
Iris threw up her hands. “I give up! This is beyond madness.”
“I am not certain of that,” Mentia said sensibly. “Gargoyles do know stone, as they know water, and Gary is speaking in the manner of one who knows whereof he speaks. Gary, just how do you read stone?”
“I look closely at it, and refocus my eyes until I can see the images behind the surface. Then I interpret them.” He paused. “Oh, I am not sure I can do it in this human body! I keep forgetting its limitations.”
“And its potentials,” Iris muttered from the edge.
“The thing to do is to make the attempt,” Mentia said seriously. “Then we shall know whether this is viable.”
“But if I don't have a good stone, I won't learn anything useful,” he protested.
“For testing your potential, useful information is not necessary. If you find you can read stone in this form, then we shall search out the most knowledgeable stone on the plain.”
“Why yes!” he agreed. “You are remarkably sensible, Mentia.”
She made a grimace that extended off the side of her face. “It is not by choice, gargoyle. Once we get this mission accomplished, we can leave this madness and I can revert to normal.”
“You're a demoness,” Hiatus said. “Why haven't you popped away already?”
The grimace floated entirely away from her face, leaving it without a mouth. Nevertheless, she spoke without difficulty. “Because the madness also reverses my natural irresponsibility. It would not be proper to desert you folk in your hour of need, so I am not doing it. I assure you that this attitude distresses me almost as much as my better half's acquisition of a conscience. I might as well have stayed with her.”
“Conscience is madness to a demon,” Gary agreed.
“But I must say that I like you better this way, and am glad for your present company.”
“But she's not even being seductive!” Iris said, annoyed.
“Exactly,” he agreed.
“What a nuisance,” Iris muttered.
“Nuisance!” Surprise said, her eyes crossing. She had found a handful of pretty colored pebbles. Now these floated up to form a pattern in the air.
“But that's not a nuisance,” Iris said. “Those are nice stones.”
“That is the nature of the nuisance,” Mentia said. “Surprise suffers as I do, becoming more responsible. Borrow one of those little stones to test your ability, Gary.”
“This one,” Surprise said. A fragment of granite in the shape of a smiley face left the formation and jumped to his hand. “I like it.”
So Gary held the stone and focused on it, seeking the message within it. His human eyes lost their focus, then recovered it in a different style. He read the patterns on the surface of the stone, evoking the rock pictures.
“Maybe if you cross your eyes,” Surprise suggested.
“Nothing here but recent events,” he said. “Because this is a chip from a larger piece, and before it chipped away all it saw was the other stone around it. Once it landed on the ground, it saw plants growing and bugs foraging, and the silhouette of the column from which it had fragmented. Nothing of interest to us.”
“But you can read it!” Mentia said. “That's of interest to us.”
“Why so I can,” Gary agreed, startled. “So it is.”
“So now we must find some stone that has seen something significant. That can pierce the veil of time.”
“Yes. But there's a great deal of time and space to check. This may be slow and tedious.”
“I've had enough of slow and tedious!” Iris snapped. “This whole adventure has been unconscionably dull. Can't we find a way to speed it up?”
Mentia looked thoughtful. “It occurs to me that we have a bottleneck. Gar
y is the only one of us who can read the rock pictures. If we could find a way to help him do it faster—”
“How?” Iris asked eagerly.
“I'm not sure. But I wonder whether it might be possible to animate the pictures Gary describes, so that we could all see them. Then we could all join in the search.”
“Animate?” Hiatus asked. “But which of us has such magic?”
“Iris does,” Mentia said. “Her enormous power of illusion can make anything appear.”
“But my illusions don't make things actually exist,” Iris said. “They are just as I see them, rightly or wrongly.”
“But if Gary can give you a detailed enough description of what he sees, so that you can translate it to illusion, that should do the job. We know it isn't real—at least, not real today. But if we can in this manner see what has happened in the past, and where someone may have left the philter—”
“You are making sense,” Iris said. “Very well. You find the perfect stone, and I'll try to relate closely enough to Gary so that I can readily translate his images to illusion.
But remember: here in the madness my illusion tends to reverse, so I'll make some mistakes before I get the full hang of countering it.”
Gary wasn't sure he liked this, but the notion did seem sensible, so he couldn't object.
“Let's practice on that pebble,” Iris said. “You saw plants growing? What kind?”
Gary peered into the stone again and described the plants. At first completely different plants appeared, as Iris got caught by the madness, but she muttered a nasty word and tried again. In a moment similar plants were growing around them, in large size, because that was the way the small pebble had seen them. Then the bugs came by, assuming ever more precise detail as Gary corrected Iris' impressions.