“Would you change your mind if I looked like this?” She became a luscious young witch with restless brown hair and a prominent bosom trying to escape from an inadequate halter. He would hardly have recognized her, except that she wore the same conical hat.
He considered. “Are you of barbarian stock?”
“Of course not. I’m of witchly stock.”
“Then I think I wouldn’t change my mind”
She gazed at him a moment in perplexity. “You’re an oddity.”
“I’m a cyborg”
She sighed, putting a severe strain on the halter. “Maybe that explains it. Well, if you should get hungry for anything, I will still be here”
The mere sight of her made him hungry for something, but he was sure this was not the occasion for that. He regretted that Tess Tosterone had not managed to educate him further. “Thank you.” He moved on, leaving her shaking her head.
The path shortly wended its way to another shop. This was an array of large colored stones. In fact they were boulders. The sign said ENUFF stuff—rock&roll. The proprietor was snoozing behind a stone counter shaped like an upside-down funnel. He was a big tough-looking man who hardly seemed to need the softly shaped bed rock he lay on.
Cyrus paused, curious. Surely all this was here for a reason, but he couldn’t fathom what it was.
The man woke and jumped off his rock bed. “Hi, stranger! I’m Tuff. What can I sell you? I have stone galore, from the very best volcanoes.”
“I’m really not in the market for stone,” Cyrus said. “Though what you have here is pretty.”
“Are you sure? Any rock you buy, I roll into place for you. It makes excellent walls, foundations, statues. There’s an island almost surrounded by tuff statues, a marvelous sight.”
“Surely it is,” Cyrus agreed. “But I’m not here to build anything. I just want to see the Good Magician.”
“Suit yourself.” Tuff settled back into his snooze.
Cyrus moved on. Surely all this made sense in some fashion. Maybe as a cyborg he just wasn’t equipped to appreciate it.
He heard screaming and laughter ahead. A sign said beware the strip tide. He still didn’t get the relevance.
Then the path ended in an inlet of water, maybe part of the moat. It was filled with swimming bare girls who were screaming and splashing each other. Were they nymphs?
One spied him. “Hi! Who are you?”
“I am Cyrus Cyborg. I want to see the Good Magician”
She laughed. “Don’t we all! But we tried to swim across, and got caught by the strip tide. Don’t try it yourself, unless you want to join us.”
“Strip tide?” He remembered the warning sign.
“It’s a wave that strips whoever it catches. We’re all embarrassingly bare.” She eyed him, not seeming much embarrassed. “Still, we might have some fun if you joined us.” She glanced across the water, where some bare children played. “We’d have to banish the sea urchins for a while of course; Adult Conspiracy, you know”
But Cyrus remained a bit nervous about fun with women. Tess had shown him that he desired such contact, but he wanted to know more about it before getting bare with dozens of girls. Otherwise he would surely embarrass himself. “Thank you, but I think I can’t afford such a diversion at this time. I need to see the Good Magician”
She shrugged, flashing some interesting wet flesh in the pro cess. “Are you sure?”
“I am not at all sure. It’s a judgment call”
She eyed him somewhat the way the Witch had. “You seem remarkably candid.”
“I’m a cyborg,” he reminded her. “I don’t have much experience with human duplicity”
She nodded. “I like that. Most men are eager to deceive girls in my position.” She took a deep breath so he could properly appreciate her position. “I am Acro Nymph. I came to ask the Good Magician what my talent might be, and he told me I’d find out in the course of my Service for the Answer. It seems it’s somehow tied in with my name. I can quit any time I learn it, without completing my Service, since I won’t need the Answer if I figure it out for myself. But so far I’m baffled. So here I am, trying to tempt you into the water.” She frowned cutely. “Don’t do it. It won’t hurt you to be bare, but you will wash out of the Challenge and never get to see the Good Magician”
Cyrus hesitated. “As I said, I don’t properly understand duplicity. Why would you tell me this, if it is your job to prevent me from passing?”
“I’m a sucker for honesty. It forces me to be honest in return”
Cyrus ran her name through his data bank, and came up with a near match. “Acronym!”
“What?”
“It means forming words from the first letters, or first few letters, of other words. Maybe that’s your talent”
She frowned. “But can’t anybody do that? Just take any words and use their first letters? How would that qualify as a magic talent?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a bad idea.”
“I’m not sure of that. Maybe I just need to figure out how it applies.”
“I’ll ponder further,” Cyrus said. “Maybe it will come to me.”
“But if it does, you’ll be long gone from here and unable to tell me. What good would that do me?”
“None,” Cyrus said regretfully. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”
“That’s all right. I think you’ve given me part of the answer. I’ll mull it over. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” He gazed at the water, with its array of nymphs. “I thought there were supposed to be moat monsters.”
“There are, normally. But Souffle and Sesame Serpent took Serendipity to visit the Castle Roogna moat, leaving this one temporarily vacant.”
“Serendipity?” he asked, not finding that name in his data bank.
“Their new baby daughter, Serendipity Serpent. They found her in a gene pool, of course. Her talent is to spontaneously find things she’s not looking for. She’s really cute, if you like that type.”
“I’m sure she is. I’m just not keen on encountering moat monsters. It has to do with my physical health”
She glanced at him again. “You’re handsome. I’d like to kiss you. I promise not to drag you into the water. I’ll come out of it for the moment.” She swam to the bank and put her feet down, starting to lift her upper body out of the water. Much more flesh showed. Her chest was—
Cyrus’s vision blurred. His eyes were locked on her, unable to look away. “Something’s wrong,” he said. “My eyes are corroding.”
“Oh, bleep!” she said. “I forgot about that. Most men freak out at the sight of pan ties, but less experienced ones are susceptible to even bare flesh. Cover your eyes”
He put up a hand, cutting off the view. His eyes relaxed, though dangerous circular afterimages still stalked them. “That must have been it.”
“I’ll be there in a moment. Stay covered”
He heard water dripping from her bare body. The very thought of her touch got him all hot and nervous. “Please—I’m not sure I could—could handle your kiss. I need to proceed without such a distraction.” He half hoped she would ignore his demurral.
She stopped. “I understand. Good luck.” She splashed back into the water. “Bye, Cyrus.”
“Bye,
.” Yet he wondered: if this was a Challenge, why was she letting him go? In fact why had the Witch and Tuff the rock salesman been so ready to let him pass?
Cyrus uncovered his eyes and walked along the bank, seeking some way across. Wasn’t there supposed to be a drawbridge? He found none. Instead he located the Wave, the strip tide, rippling restlessly as if seeking more victims. Whenever it passed a girl, she screamed and seemed to be another stage barer, if that was possible.
He raised his hand again to break the threatening lock on his gaze that the screaming girls generated. He was fortunate that none of them was wearing pan ties, because that would have finished him. As it was, th
eir swimming and diving had him on the very verge of the brink of a freak, especially when their legs flashed up out of the water.
Could he plunge in and swim when the tide wasn’t there? Maybe if he did it right behind the Wave, so it would take time to circle around and pass this way again. Then he saw the Wave abruptly reverse course. It was unpredictable. So that was no good.
He noticed that the girls were very similar in appearance. In fact they seemed identical. Were there really that many nymphs—or was there just one, replicated by illusion to fillthe moat? Did it matter? One would be more than enough to embarrass him if she caught him naked in the water. Tess had clearly meant well, after her initial distrust of him; he had no guarantee the nymph did, despite her seeming candor. Maybe she was there not just to demonstrate the danger. Maybe she was the danger. The Challenge was to get across without being humiliated.
It was best not to risk it. He needed to find a way to get across without entering the water.
Then he thought of something. Enuff tuff stuff—sufficient to form a ramp or causeway across the moat, so that he could walk. That must be the key.
He returned to the stone shop. “I’d like a fair quantity of your wares, if you please. Enough to cross the moat.”
“That’s a big order,” Tuff remarked.
“How may I obtain it?”
Tuff considered. “I’d trade it for one really good snack. I haven’t eaten since dawn. But none of this bland nothing that passes for food; I want something with a kick”
Aha. “How about a knuckle sandwich? I understand it’s a real bash in the mouth.”
“That’s the kind,” Tuff agreed.
Cyrus walked back to the Sand Witch Shoppe. The witch was back in her old homely form. Maybe that was just as well. “Hello, Witch.”
“You again? I thought you were doing a void dance.”
“A what?”
“A void dance. It’s what folk use to get out of trouble or avoid anything else, such as ugly old witches.”
“Avoidance,” he echoed. It was a pun.
“So what do you want?”
“I’ll take a knuckle sandwich. What do you require in return?”
“I’m bored as bleep. I’d trade it for one good laugh”
What would make a witch laugh? That was a challenge indeed. His mind sifted through the humor section of his data bank.
And found something. He fetched a stick from beside the path, then used it to beat madly at the path.
“What are you doing?” the witch demanded.
“I’m beating the path,” he explained. “So that you are truly off the beaten path.”
“That’s crazy!” But in half a moment her expression changed. “It’s crazy enough to be funny. Oh, no—I think I’m going to laugh.” She struggled with herself, but the laugh surged up and finally burst out, hurling her back against her shoppe wall. Piled sandwiches fell off the shelf, half burying her. “Ha- ha- ha! Ho- ho- ho!” Her form seemed to be changing back to young and full, as she lost control.
Cyrus doubted that it was really that funny, but this was a Challenge, and the witch was probably keyed to laugh at any reasonable attempt. “So if I may have that sandwich now..”
One foot lifted from the pile, bearing a sandwich. The foot was on a marvelously bare and well formed leg. He squinted to focus only on the sandwich and accepted it. “Thank you.” He shut his eyes until he could turn away from the leg.
The sandwich was shaped like a big fist with protruding knuckles. Cyrus kept it well away from his face. He carried it back to Tuff’s domain. “Here is your knuckle sandwich.” He handed it over.
The man took it and lifted it to his mouth. The sandwich leaped forward and smashed into his face. “Hoo!” Tuff exclaimed, licking off a spot of blood from his lip. “This one’s smashing.”
“As represented,” Cyrus agreed, bemused.
Tuff had at the sandwich. The next time it tried to smash him, he met it with open mouth, and chomped down on a knuckle. The sandwich didn’t give up, but every time it jabbed, it encountered the stony teeth again, and lost another joint. Finally it was gone.
“Great stuff,” Tuff said. “I haven’t had one of those in years. Really punches me up.”
“You’re welcome,” Cyrus said.
“Now you want stone for the moat,” Tuff said, getting back to business. He bent forward, put his hands on an orange boulder, and heaved. The stone rolled onto the path. Tuff heaved again, keeping it going, until at last it rolled into the water of the moat with a satisfying splash.
“Eeeek!” the nymphs screamed cutely in unison.
“Sorry about that, Acro,” Tuff said, looking at several of the nymphs without freaking out.
“Are not,” they chorused. “Did it on purpose.”
“Well, sure, but it’s part of the Challenge.” Tuff turned about and walked back to his shop.
The nearest nymph looked at Cyrus. “So you’re figuring it out.”
“I seem to be, yes,” he agreed.
“I want to come with you. I think you’ll figure out the rest of my riddle, in time”
Could she do that? “You’d freak me out.”
“I’d put on new clothing, silly,” she said. “I promise not to freak you out unless you ask me to. May I join you?”
Cyrus suspected he should say no, but it was difficult to do. “Yes, if you’re sure.”
“Thanks! I’ll meet you at the far side.” She and the other nymphs swam away.
Tuff returned with another boulder. “She’s a nice girl,” he remarked as the stone splashed into the water. “A man could do worse.”
“All she wants is for me to figure out her magic talent.”
“Well, sure, but she’s still worthwhile. I’d have taken her, had she been interested. The nights get lonely. There must be something about you.” He went back for another boulder.
Cyrus was afraid he was getting in trouble, without even meaning to. Tess had been attracted to him, and it seemed the Witch also, and now Acro. Sure, he had been created handsome, but was that all that women cared about? Could this have any bearing on his destiny? If so, he really needed to sort it out soon.
In due course the boulders formed a ramp across the moat. “There you are,” Tuff said as the last one splashed into place. “Good luck.”
“Thank you.” Cyrus stepped carefully from boulder to boulder, crossing the moat without touching the water. The Wave hovered, as if hoping he would fall in so it could pounce, but he disappointed it. He had navigated the first Challenge.
“Congratulations,” Acro said as he stepped onto the inner bank. She was now garbed in blouse, skirt, and slippers, none of which detracted from her appeal. However, it was now possible for him to look at her without his eyeballs locking up. “I’m not allowed to help you with the other Challenges, but I will cheer you on.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to kiss you?”
“I am not sure. That’s probably why you shouldn’t do it.”
“I don’t think I quite understand.”
“It might make my mind freak out, so I would not be able to pass the remaining Challenges.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. That’s very logical.”
“Robots are supremely logical. I’m half robot.”
“What’s the other half?”
“Barbarian. That makes me ill-equipped to handle civilized things, especially women.”
“You are fascinating”
He assumed that was a compliment. “Thank you”
He looked ahead. He was in a kind of garden swarming with ants. They were large and looked aggressive.
He stepped forward. Immediately the ants formed a line, lifting front legs with weapons: little spears, clubs, swords, and whips. “I don’t like the look of this,” he muttered.
“They won’t let you pass,” Acro said. She was standing near an ant, but it ignored her. “This is the next Challenge”
> He had gathered as much. He suspected that the little weapons would be most painful to his ankles. In fact some ants had little buckets of fire. Those would be fire ants.
That gave him an idea. Were the others of individual types? Maybe if he identified them, they would let him by. It was the kind of intellectual challenge the Good Magician was known for.
He moved toward the closest ant.
“Halt!” its tiny voice cried. “I will defend my domain to the death!”
“You’re a Warrior Ant,” Cyrus said.
“True, and you shall not pass, intruder.” The ant raised its spear threateningly.
He had identified it, but it still would not let him pass. Had he figured it out wrong? He sifted through his memory bank. Endless information was there, but he didn’t know how to adapt it to this situation. He had to use the thinking portion of his brain.
What had he not done? Often in Xanth things had to be taken literally, and with a groaning admixture of puns. Was he supposed to make the ant laugh, as he had with the witch?
Then a bulb flashed. That always startled him, though it was a standard effect when someone got a sudden bright idea. There was a pun of sorts. “You’re a Defend Ant,” he said.
“O bleep, he got it,” the ant swore. “I have to let him pass.” It stepped aside. “Pass, jerk.”
“Thank you.” Cyrus stepped past.
But immediately there was another ant in the way. “Didn’t you get the message, idiot? We don’t want you here.”
“What message was that?”
“I sent you an a-mail. You lacked the courtesy to answer. You shall not pass”
A-mail. That would be the ants’ version of e-mail. But where was the pun? “I’m sorry, I didn’t receive it.”
“The bleep you didn’t, rogue! It’s right there in your pocket”
Cyrus looked. There was a small note tucked into his breast pocket. It must have gotten there magically; a-mail was surely like that. He took it out and read it. GO AWAY. FAILURE TO ACKNOWLEDGE THIS CORRESPONDENCE WILL NOT ALTER ITS IMPORT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Correspondence. New he got it. “You’re a Correspond Ant.”
“Bleep,” the ant said, as ungracious as the fi rst. “Thought I had you.” It stood aside.