Geis of the Gargoyle

  Gary looked around. “So this is why the city is hinged. So it can be shut down during madness storms, and readily restored after they pass.”

  “Yes,” Hanna agreed. “We suffer very few losses during the storms, and these can be repaired. So we are able to work well at all other times. Stone Hinge protects us both with and without the madness.”

  “This is very clever,” Iris said appreciatively.

  “Do the individual buildings have similar effect?” Gary asked. “That is, reducing the madness?”

  “Yes,” Desi said. “They ease the effect of the ambient background madness. But their effect is limited. They can't withstand a storm when not folded down.”

  Iris glanced sharply at him. “How did you guess that?”

  “I noticed that Mentia was reverting to normal. When I talked with her this morning, her eyes traveled around her face, and just now her face reversed itself. That's part of her regular craziness; she does such things without noticing. But when the madness is around us, she usually indulges in no such foolishness, not even unconsciously.”

  Hiatus nodded appreciatively. “Gary, you are smarter than the average—”

  “The average young human man,” Iris finished. She might have been a bit crazy in the madness, but was back to her sensible self here, as she had been in the palace. Hiatus had reverted to his somewhat vacant innocence, so had forgotten that they were trying not to speak of Gary's true nature.

  “Isn't the average young man interested in shapely young women?” Hanna inquired.

  “Yes, but sometimes a bit shy,” Mentia said, covering for him much as Iris had. “Would you believe that there are some who could see a maiden in the altogether and not immediately think of the stork?”

  “Yes,” Iris said, somewhat sourly.

  “I'm thirsty,” Surprise said. She left Iris and ran to the pool. She was back to her normal impetuosity. Gary had thought that her good behavior stemmed from her discovery of the limit of her talent, but now he realized that the surrounding madness could also have accounted for it.

  “Wait, dear!” Iris cried, pursuing her. “We don't know what kind of water that is. It might be enchanted, or poison.”

  “Actually it's a love spring,” Desi said.

  “A love spring!” Iris screeched. She made a grab for the child, but was too late; Surprise had already plopped down beside the pool and put her face to the water.

  “But it's the city supply,” Hiatus said. “So it must be pure.”

  Gary touched a finger to the water. “Yes, this is pure,” he agreed, excited.

  Hanna looked sharply at him. “How do you know?”

  Gary knew better than to give away his true nature. “I have a talent for reading water,” he said. “I know when it is pure. This is exceptionally so.”

  Surprise lifted her face. “Yes, it's scrumshus, for water.”

  Hiatus stared at Hanna. “You were having a little fun with us, not telling us that this water is good.”

  “Yes,” Desi said. “I have tried to have fun with you.”

  Hiatus grimaced. “There are different kinds of fun.”

  “This is a spring that is unaffected by the madness around it?” Iris inquired doubtfully.

  “Yes, it rises by the keystone on the island in the center,” Hanna said.

  “Keystone?” Surprise said.

  “Don't do any magic, dear,” Iris told her quickly.

  “Yes, the keystone is in the very center of Hinge,” Desi said. “As long as that's in place, all is well.”

  “Impossible,” Gary said. “This water is too pure to have percolated directly from the depths.”

  Mentia looked at him sharply. “What are you suggesting?”

  “I'm suggesting that there's a gargoyle involved.”

  “Oho! Let me check.” Mentia walked across the water to the little island in the center. There was a fancy fountain there, from which water gushed into the pool. “Right,” she called back after a moment. “There is a gargoyle here.”

  Gary dived into the water and swam in clumsy human manner to the island. The fountain had a high stone foundation surmounted by the fountain spout. He walked around it until he found a door. The door was closed, but opened outward when he tried it. Within, a short passage angled upward, curving. He walked its length, and finally saw what was in the center.

  “Some keystone!” Gary exclaimed. But he was hardly displeased. He had confirmed what he expected, and in the process made a wonderful discovery.

  It was a horrendous stone gargoyle, spouting water. A female. Gary gazed upon her hugely ugly countenance and stone contours, and was instantly in love.

  “Easy, Gary,” Mentia murmured. “Don't say anything we all might regret.” She seemed quite sane and sober now.

  She meant that he should not announce his own nature, lest the illusion folk of Hinge overhear. He wasn't sure why anyone else should care that he was a transformed gargoyle, but he respected the demoness' caution. He nodded.

  The female gargoyle saw them. She closed her throat, shutting off the flow of clean water. “Hello, strangers,” she said. “Are you real or illusion?”

  “A bit of both,” Mentia said quickly. “We are not necessarily what we appear to be. I, for example, appear human, but I am a demoness.” She changed to the form of a striped green cloud for a moment, illustrating her nature, then re-formed as human. “But apart from that we are real, being two members of a party of five visiting the stone city of Hinge.”

  “That is a relief,” the gargoyle said. “It's been so long since I've seen any but illusion folk.” She twitched her whiskers. “I am Gayle Goyle.”

  “I am D. Mentia.”

  “And I am Gary Gar.”

  Gayle's eyes fastened on him. But before she spoke, Mentia did. “We prefer to leave it at that, for now. No further introduction is needed.”

  Gayle nodded, though her eyes had narrowed. “Perhaps that is best. But I would ask of you one favor. I dislike being fooled by illusions. Would you touch me, Gary, so that I can verify that you are tangible?”

  “Gladly,” Gary said. He stepped forward and put one human flesh hand on one of her stone lion paws.

  The touch sent a thrill through him. Not only was she real, she was desirable by the standard of his species. And he knew that she recognized his nature through his touch, for gargoyles did know their own. And he knew she liked him.

  Do not let them know your nature.

  She had spoken to him in his mind! He hadn't realized that gargoyles could do that. But of course it had been centuries since he had encountered another of his species.

  He might have forgotten.

  It is this intense magic that enhances my nature. Do not trust the illusions.

  Hanna appeared. “Ah, there you are. Meeting the gargoyle.”

  Gary removed his hand, reluctantly. “Yes. I wanted to be sure she—it wasn't more illusion.”

  “To be sure the water really is pure,” Mentia added.

  “The two of you would not be standing apart from each other if this spring retained its original nature,” Hanna said with a smile.

  “Love elixir doesn't affect demons,” Mentia said a bit primly.

  “This spring might. There is very strong magic here.”

  Now Gary became aware of it: an aura like that of the madness, but worse. He had been so interested in the gargoyle that he hadn't realized that part of the magic of their touch stemmed from this.

  “But you said this was a safe circle,” Mentia said.

  “Strictly speaking, it's a safe to us,” Hanna said. “Are you conversant with the principle of a magnifying glass?”

  “Oh, you mean the magic disk that sets fire to things?” Mentia asked.

  “The same. Its magic focuses the light of the sun into a very small, hot center. But it takes light away from the region around that center. So that region is in shadow. Similarly the center circle of Hinge takes magic from most of that area and puts it in
the focus island. That makes the circle safe for most folk during storms, but the island is dangerous.”

  “Not for me,” Gayle said. “It has little effect on animate stone, and I can purify what remains, purging myself.”

  The demoness looked at the illusion. “So you make your safe haven by dumping the extra magic where it doesn't hurt anyone,” Mentia said.

  “Yes. This is the keystone of our defense,” Hanna said.

  “Gayle has been here for the past several thousand years, loyally purifying the water.”

  “Well, it's the geis of the gargoyle,” Gayle said modestly. “Someone has to do it.” She wiggled an ear. “Now if you don't mind, I must return to work, for the magic is building up. It is pretty strong here.”

  That was perhaps the understatement of the millennium!

  The strength of the magic here was appalling, and Gary knew that only the fact that he was a gargoyle himself and Mentia a demoness enabled them to survive it without going utterly mad. In fact, if he didn't get away from it soon, his human body would succumb anyway. He couldn't be sure what would become of him then. “By all means,”

  Gary said. “I congratulate you on your constancy.”

  “Thank you.” She sent one more glance his way, then opened her mouth wide and resumed spouting.

  They walked out of the fountain enclosure and closed the door. Then Gary swam across the pool while Hanna and Mentia walked across it.

  “What did you see?” Hiatus inquired.

  “A gargoyle,” Mentia replied, assuming gargoyle form.

  “Big and ugly, spouting water. Nothing to interest any of us.” The form fuzzed slightly, as if not quite true.

  “To be sure,” Iris agreed. “So Gary was correct: that is what keeps this water pure. Otherwise it would be extremely risky for any of us to drink from it.”

  Gary emerged from the pool. He realized that he felt different. He was of course excited by the discovery of Gayle Goyle, but it was more than that. The magic had diminished. It had indeed been intense, and now was ordinary. But there was still something else.

  “You swam in your clothing,” Iris remarked tartly.

  “You're all wet.”

  Oh. That was it.

  “Well, get out of those things,” Iris said. “You'll catch new monia, which can proceed on into middle monia and even old monia if neglected.”

  “Yes, let's see you in the altogether,” Mentia said, rolling her eyes right over the top of her head.

  “We are already all together,” Gary protested. He knew that human folk were supposed to be clothed.

  “I will clothe you in illusion,” Iris said. “You can strip off your wet things under it.”

  A barrel appeared around him. It wasn't real, for he could pass his hands right through it, but it looked solid. He stripped off his clothing beneath it. He had to admit that the clothing had become uncomfortable. In his natural state he never used clothing, so he tended to forget about it.

  Iris stooped to pick up his fallen, sodden things. “No fair peeking!” Mentia said, her eyes stretching out from her face in the manner of a snail's.

  The Sorceress turned her face away from the base of his barrel, frowning. It occurred to Gary that she might indeed have been about to peek. She was back to normal too, in this reduced magic circle, which meant she was looking for the excitement and irresponsibility of youth. Yet she also was acting like a mother who had raised a willful daughter, insisting that wet clothing be changed. If the madness increased, she would become more like the daughter and less like the mother. And perhaps the madness was increasing, because he could see that the storm was intensifying beyond the rim of the circle.

  Indeed, a sharp gust of wind cut across the circle. It passed through his barrel as if it weren't there and chilled his flesh in toward the bone. He shivered, which he realized was his human body's reaction to the discomfort.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Mentia said. “You need a warm blanket.” She dissolved into vapor, and the vapor formed into a bright polka dot blanket, and the blanket slowly sank toward the ground, then undulated sinuously and moved toward him. It came up under the barrel and wrapped itself around his cold bare torso. One fold of it tweaked his behind. He would have protested, but realized that the blanket really was comfortingly warm.

  “Then we won't be needing the barrel,” Iris said, disgruntled. The barrel vanished, leaving him in the blanket.

  “But we shall have to get this clothing dry.”

  “We have a sun screen,” Hanna said. A small square screen appeared, glowing faintly. Desi picked it up and set it right at the edge of the safe circle.

  “A sun screen?” Gary asked, perplexed.

  “Where do you think the sun goes when it's not on duty?” Desi asked rhetorically. “It retires to its sun house constructed of sun blocks, and drinks sundaes from sun glasses. We borrowed the pattern of one of its screens, is all; the sun will never miss it.”

  “You can borrow things from the sun?” Hiatus asked, as surprised as the others.

  “We illusions are not as limited in imagination or performance as are you non-illusion folk,” Hanna said. “This is of course an illusion copy of the screen.”

  The blanket around Gary opened a mouth. “How can an illusion screen dry real clothing?”

  “This is a pretty strong illusion,” Desi said.

  This made sense to Gary, who remembered how Iris' illusion lamp had made real light.

  Iris shrugged and brought the clothing to the screen. She held up Gary's limp shirt, stretching it out flat.

  The sun screen brightened. In fact it became so bright that it was difficult to look at it. So Gary looked at the shirt instead. Steam was rising from it.

  Then Iris dropped it. “Oh!” she cried. “My hands are getting scorched!”

  “Fortunately it's already dry,” Hanna said, picking up the shirt. “Come and put it on, Gary.” She stood at the edge of the circle, holding the dry shirt up.

  “And how can an illusion pick up a real object?” the blanket asked.

  “We're pretty strong illusions, now, too,” Desi said, picking up the undershorts. She held them before the sun screen, which brightened again.

  Gary walked to Hanna. “Ooo,” the blanket said. “That magic is strong at the fringe! In fact, it's dangerous. I tell you this in utterly sincere sanity.”

  “But the shirt is warm and dry,” Hanna said, holding it out. “Let me put it on you.”

  Gary stood before her, with the blanket sliding down somewhat, and she set the shirt on him, passing it over one arm and then the other. Her hands were firm and gentle.

  The shorts were dry. Desi brought them over. Hanna took them and helped put them on him. “This is weird,” the blanket said, floating away.

  Finally the trousers were ready. Gary insisted on putting them on himself. They were warm and dry too.

  Mentia reformed in her usual image. “What is going on here?” she demanded. “How can you two illusions be physical? A stronger illusion is merely a clearer, more detailed one, not a physical thing.”

  “Note that we are standing near the fringe of the circle,” Desi said. “The storm has intensified the magic, and it is now more powerful outside the circle than any normal person can handle. So strong that it even lends the semblance of substance to some illusions.”

  That seemed to make sense. But now Gary remembered how Hanna had massaged him in his room in the palace.

  Her hands had felt quite solid then. Also, the covers of his bed had been supported by her body when she was sleeping there in the morning. She might have been on autopilot, but shouldn't her substance have faded then? The illusions were capable of some solidity even when they weren't at the fringe of a storm.

  Mentia went to stand at the fringe of the circle. She put an arm out into the madness beyond. “It is stronger outside,” she said soberly. “But not nearly as strong as in the gargoyle's chamber.”

  “Nothing matches that strength,??
? Hanna said. “It, too, varies with the ambient magic, but it is always by far the strongest on the surface of Xanth. It enables the gargoyle to purify highly enchanted water. Thus we make a virtue of excess: the magic we don't want in the main circle helps provide the water that makes the circle safe.”

  Meanwhile Hiatus was gazing out at the city. “It is really strange out there,” he said.

  The others looked. Indeed it was strange. All the buildings were now affected by the madness. They had been compacted by the folding process, but were swaying and twisting in the winds of the storm. Their colors were shifting constantly, and some were stretching and bobbing as if pulled or banged by a giant unseen hand. Snow was flying in one section, mounding up on and around the structures, burying them in green, red, yellow, and plaid. Ice was forming in another, coating the stones so thickly that they scintillated. But elsewhere the swirling clouds seemed to be producing black and white sand, which outlined the sharp angles of the stones, making them stand out in stark relief.

  The storm swept right up to the edge of the circle, but was unable to penetrate it. The stone structures seemed to be the pedestals supporting an invisible dome that arched over land, pool, and island, marked by the sudden change in the aspect of the storm. The rampaging winds formed themselves into a kind of funnel, broad at the top, narrow at the bottom—and the tip was right at the island. Within the funnel was the color of madness, too compelling even to look at for more than an instant, while outside it was the calm of the protected area.

  “This construction truly is a wonder,” Iris murmured appreciatively. “I never dreamed that such a city ever existed.”

  “Naturally not,” Desi said. “Hinge is excluded from the realm of dreams. Dreams are mad enough already, without being fouled up by storms of madness.”

  “How long do these storms last?” Hiatus asked.

  “Not long,” Hanna said. “This one is already waning.”

  “I don't see it raining,” Hiatus said.

  “You are so clever,” Desi said, making an illusory effort to look appreciative. “The storm is diminishing.”

  “Oh.”

  “Soon we will be able to restore the city and return to more comfortable surroundings,” Hanna said.