Yon Ill Wind

  “No, this is my first time away from my community.”

  “But then how do you know the way to Castle Boogie?”

  “Castle Roogna,” Trenita said patiently, just like Mom.

  “Everyone in Xanth knows where that is. I have studied centaur maps, and of course, I know the way of enchanted paths.”

  “You mean like nobody can attack us on one?”

  “Yes, of course. But also where they go and where they stop.”

  “They stop?”

  Trenita smiled. “When you get where you are going. In this case. Castle Roogna.”

  “Is that a nice place?”

  “I am sure you will love it. It has an orchard where all manner of things grow, such as pie trees.”

  “Gee—even chocolate pies?”

  “Especially those. The royal children have insisted on them, and on bubblegum trees.”

  “There are children there?”

  “Yes. Princess Ivy and Prince Dolph grew up there. Of course, they're grown now, and married, and Prince Dolph and Princess Electra have their twins. Dawn and Eve. They are now five years old.”

  “Do they have magic talents?”

  “Of course,” the imp woman replied. “Every descendant of Magician Bink has Magician-level magic. Dawn can tell anything about any living thing, while Eve can tell anything about any inanimate thing.”

  “Gee—I wish I had a magic talent, even a little one.”

  Trenita shook her head. “Mundanes lack magic. You have to be delivered in Xanth to have it.”

  “Delivered?”

  “By the stork, of course.”

  “You mean it's literal here? Babies aren't born?”

  “Born?”

  “You know. From their mothers.”

  “Oh, borne. The storks deliver them to their proper mothers, of course, after they have been ordered.”

  “Ordered? You mean like from a novelty catalog?”

  “From a cat? A log? No, a message is sent to the stork.”

  “Gee, things really are different in Xanth! How do they send the orders?”

  “I must not tell you that; the Adult Conspiracy absolutely forbids it.”

  So things weren't so different. This woman was the size of a doll, but she was a typical adult. “Same as the bleep, huh? But why aren't children supposed to know?”

  “Because then they might summon storks themselves, and not take care of their babies.”

  Karen considered that. She knew of cases in Mundania where exactly that had happened. “But the words—why forbid them? They aren't babies. They won't suffer if children say them, will they?”

  “But others would suffer. Have you seen the burned foliage where harpies roost? Would you want human children to do that?”

  “Gee—I could burn things with words, if I knew the words? I'd love that.”

  Trenita sighed. “Well, the full name is the Adult Conspiracy to Keep Interesting Things from Children.”

  “That's more like it,” Karen agreed, vindicated.

  “Oh, I must direct your mother to the bridge over the Gap Chasm,” Trenita said. “Before she misses the turn.”

  “I'll do it,” Karen said eagerly. “Mom! Mom! Turn coming up.”

  “But we're approaching the ferry station,” Mom called back.

  “The ferry will be closed, because of the high winds,” Trenita said. “We must use the bridge.”

  “Makes sense, Mom,” Sean said, coming to life. He had been pretty quiet recently, maybe because now there was no sexy Chlorine to gawk at. “Wind blows clouds.”

  “Very well. I see a diverging lane ahead. But will it take us off the enchanted path?”

  “No, the paths to Castle Roogna are all enchanted,”

  Trenita said reassuringly.

  Mom made the turn. Karen returned her attention to Trenita. “What's it like, being an imp?”

  “Much like being human, I suspect. Did you find our hotel strange, when you used the accommodation spell?”

  “No, it was great. Especially that magic mirror with the historical pictures.”

  “It was showing you the Magic Tapestry of Castle Roogna. You will be able to see the original there.”

  “Gee! That and a chocolate pie tree will be about as good as candy and TV at home. Did you eat fun stuff when you were a kid?”

  Trenita smiled. “Of course. And my mother, Quieta, disapproved.”

  “Did you have lots of pretty gems to play with?”

  “No just the sparkles of morning dew that my mother made. It was only more recently that my father became mayor and had to supervise the making of more permanent kinds of gems.”

  “How did Ortant get to be mayor?”

  Trenita smiled reminiscently. “My grandfather had once been ambitious. Then my grandmother died, and he lost his ambition. He got caught by an alligator clamp, which was slowly chewing off his leg, until a big ugly ogre named Smash roared it off. It occurred to my grandfather that if a creature that horrendous could do such a favor for one so small, the least he could do in return was to become worthwhile. So he resumed his ambition, and worked hard, and lived up to his name.”

  “And became Important,” Karen said, liking it. “That's nice.”

  The RV slowed. “That bridge is too small,” Mom said.

  “No, it is the right size for whatever uses it,” Trenita said. “Unlike the invisible bridge or the one-way bridge. Just go on it.”

  “Maybe I'd better hold you up so you can see forward,” Karen said. “This is getting scary.”

  “Yes. Let me stand on your shoulder.”

  Karen lifted the imp carefully, until she stood on her right shoulder, holding on to a hank of her hair. “What pretty red,” Trenita remarked, and Karen felt unreasonably pleased.

  Dad had been snoring in the back, with the three pets.

  Now he woke. “Hey, don't drive into the chasm!” he exclaimed, alarmed.

  “Go back to sleep,” Mom retorted.

  As the RV nudged cautiously toward the footpath-sized bridge, the perspective changed, and it became apparent that the structure was wider than it had seemed. In fact, it was also more solid. By the time they drove onto it, it seemed quite sufficient.

  “Magic is weird,” Sean muttered.

  The Gap Chasm had been impressive by day on a cloud.

  It was awesome by night on a bridge just wide enough for the vehicle. There was a faint glow below, hinting at its depth, and darkness around the edges that seemed to loom twice as close the moment her eyes turned elsewhere.

  Then the glow and the darkness clarified. Ahead was a dead end, with nowhere to go but into the dark depths.

  The RV squealed to a stop. “The bridge is out,” Mom said, her voice deceptively calm.

  “No it isn't,” Trenita said. “That's illusion. The bridge is enchanted, and will not harm you as long as you stay on it. Just drive on.”

  Mom hesitated, understandably. Karen sympathized, that was one frighteningly realistic drop-off. “Remember the fake goblin roadblock,” she called.

  “True,” Mom agreed. The vehicle nudged forward.

  As the front wheels crossed the brink, the illusion disappeared. The bridge was back. But it curved to the side.

  “There's no curve!” Trenita cried. “The bridge is straight.”

  “Thank you,” Mom said grimly, driving straight.

  “Illusions can kill you,” Sean said, shaken.

  “If you heed them,” Trenita agreed.

  Now a huge dragon face formed ahead. Its mouth opened, showing gleaming glistening glittering teeth. The most noxious possible smoke surged out to encompass the RV. It coalesced around the vehicle, becoming bloodstreaked slime.

  “I wish the enchantment was effective against illusion,” Trenita said.

  “Oh, I don't know,” Karen demurred mischievously.

  “We can have some fun with this. Sean?”

  “Gotcha,” Sean agreed, catching on. He came to join her.
>
  They faced out the window. “Hey, slimeball!” Karen called. “Whatcha eating tonight?”

  “How about fried worms and day-old squished caterpillars?” Sean inquired.

  The slime quivered. It might be illusion, but it heard them. That was the great thing about Xanth: even the inanimate had feelings. Even things that didn't exist could hear and react. Karen had sort of figured it would be that way, and it was good to be back in form with Sean.

  “I should have known you were a dragon without guts,” Karen said. “Just slimy smoke.”

  “Pretty puny effort, if you ask me,” Sean agreed loudly, “I thought at least we'd see a decent show.”

  The slime became guts. They were gruesomely realistic, oozing juices and slip-sliding over each other. Karen was on the verge of nauseated, but she controlled her reaction.

  “I've seen better guts on a drunk,” she declared.

  “On a drunk pig,” Sean agreed. “This sure is a boring place. Maybe the next illusion will have some oomph to it.”

  The guts became a roaring furnace. This illusion was angry now. Good. Karen faked a yawn. “Booring,” she said.

  “For sure,” Sean agreed. “Let's make faces at each other, Karen; that'll be scarier.”

  “Anything would be scarier,” she agreed. She put her fingers in her mouth and pulled it wide as she stuck out her tongue.

  Sean pretended to gouge out his own eyes and hand her an eyeball. Karen accepted it and popped it in her mouth.

  She made a burpy swallowing sound. “Yuck! It's raw.'“

  Neither of them looked again at the illusion outside.

  “It's gone,” Trenita murmured.

  “Right,” Sean agreed. “Our act is so bad there's nothing that can stand it.” He smiled at Karen. “Nice going, twerp,”

  “Thanks, bleephead,” she replied as he returned to his seat.

  “That was interesting,” Trenita remarked. “I never saw anyone drive away an illusion before.”

  “It's Mundane talent,” Sean said. “Nobody can stand us, in our normal state.”

  Trenita laughed. “You nevertheless have your appeal.”

  The RV reached the end of the bridge and pulled back onto solid land. Trenita returned to her side of the seat.

  Karen felt something relax; she had been really tight, knowing that if the illusion had succeeded in scaring or confusing Mom, they could have plunged into the dreadful abyss. But they had driven it away.

  But she was not yet relaxed enough to sleep, despite the lateness of the hour. So she asked the imp something that was bound to be boring. “Why is it that all the men imps have punny names, like Ortant or Atient, while the girl imps don't?”

  “Because the men are the ones who need the reassurance of meaningful names,” Trenita replied. “We women already know our worth, so choose pretty names instead.”

  “It works for me,” Karen said, and snoozed off.

  When she woke, dawn was threatening, and the RV was approaching a thick forest. Sean was asleep in the backseat, while Dad was up front with Mom. Tweeter was perched in her hair, and Woofer was on the floor by Sean.

  So the night was done, and Mom must be good and tired, but they had to be close to where they were going.

  She looked out the window. Massive tree branches swung down to block the way. Karen blinked and rubbed her eyes. Had she really seen that?

  “Tell them you have come to save Xanth from the ill wind,” Trenita called.

  Mom rolled down her window and spoke those words.

  The branches swung out of the way, and the RV drove on.

  “The guardian trees are very protective of the castle,” Trenita remarked. “But they feel the effects of the magic dust.”

  Now they came into a lovely orchard—and sure enough, there were pie trees galore. “Castle Roogna!” Karen cried.

  “We'll have chocolate pie for breakfast!”

  That woke David. “Wow,” he said, gazing out.

  The castle came into sight. It was just about the- most beautiful building Karen had ever seen, framed by the morning sunlight so that it glowed, with sparkles radiating out. It had a moat and wall and turrets and cupolas and pennants and just everything a castle should have.

  “Ooooo,” she breathed appreciatively.

  “'Ooooo,” David mimicked her mockingly, but his heart wasn't in it, because he, too, was impressed. They had seen so much of the jungle and illusion of Xanth that this was a wonderful change.

  The drawbridge was up, but now it lowered, and a girl in blue jeans ran out. She was slender and pigtailed, maybe about sixteen years old. Obviously a serving girl.

  “Hi!” she cried as she reached the RV. “You must be the Mundanes. Welcome to Castle Roogna. I'm Electra.”

  “Yes, we are the Mundane family,” Mom said. “We understand that we can help save Xanth from the ill wind, if someone in the castle can tell us where to go and how to do it.”

  “Sure. Come on in,” Electra said. “You must be tired after being in that moving house so long.”

  “We are,” Mom agreed. “But we're in no shape to enter a royal castle. If someone can come out and give us directions, we'll be on our way.”

  “Oh, no, you must come in,” the girl cried. “King Dor insists.”

  “But we're grimy and rumpled and dirty,” Mom protested.

  “And hungry,” David called. He would.

  “Sure,” Electra agreed brightly. “We'll get you nice and clean and fed.”

  “And we have three animals with us,” Mom said.

  “They are welcome too,” the girl said enthusiastically.

  She looked back to where a nondescript young man was approaching. “There's Dolph now; he'll tell you.”

  “If you're sure …” Mom said doubtfully.

  Trenita spoke up. “She's sure. That's Princess Electra. And Prince Dolph.”

  “Princess?” Karen squeaked.

  “Certainly. I should have recognized her by her description. She's very informal. And that's her husband. Prince Dolph. I made the connection when I heard his name.”

  Mom had evidently heard and adjusted in the smooth way of her kind. “We shall be glad to come in, Electra.

  But we do have important business, so can't stay long.”

  “Yes, the Good Magician sent Grey Murphy to attend to it,” Electra said. “He will talk with you as soon as you're ready. Come on; I'll show you where.”

  They piled out of the RV. Karen lifted Trenita carefully down to the floor, and then to ground outside; the imp lady had made it clear she appreciated such no-fuss assistance in the giant human realm.

  “Oh, an imp lady!” Electra exclaimed happily.

  “I am Trenita Imp of Erial Village,” the woman said formally. “I guided the Mundane family here. I will not be able to return immediately, so I hope it is not an imposition if I remain for a few days.”

  “Oh, no, it's great having you,” Electra said. “We have lots of space, and you won't take up much of it.” She turned to the prince. “Dolph, why don't you give Trenita Imp a ride to the magic mirror, so she can tell her village she's safe?”

  The young man became an imp-sized centaur. “Get on my back, and I'll carry you there,” he said.

  “Thank you so much,” Trenita said. Karen lifted her to the creature's back, where she got a good handful of mane to steady herself.

  “But don't get fresh with me, because my wife would screech,” Dolph said, smiling.

  “I will not!” Electra screeched after them. Then she broke out laughing, and the rest of them joined in. Princess she might be, but she was obviously a fun person.

  “If you don't mind my saying, you are the happiest Princess I have met,” Mom remarked.

  “Thank you,” Electra said happily.

  They followed her to the castle. Karen looked longingly back at the pie trees, but realized that they would have to wait, though she was suddenly ferociously hungry.

  As they approached the moat, a
horrendous green head rose out of the water. Karen screamed, and the others stepped back. “Oh, that's just Soufflé,” Electra said.

  “Castle Roogna's moat monster and baby-sitter; he loves children.” She raised her voice. “It's okay. Soufflé; the Good Magician knows about these Mundanes.” The monster nodded and disappeared back under the water.

  They crossed the drawbridge and entered the castle. It was huge, with stone passages leading in assorted directions. There were tapestries on the walls and thick rugs on the floors. Karen loved it at first sight.

  “Right this way,” Electra said, stepping into a side passage. In a moment they were in a nice bathroom, with sinks and mirrors and all.

  “We really should change our clothes,” Mom fussed, “if we are to meet royalty.”

  “We already met it,” Karen reminded her.

  “Wash your face and get your hair done,” Mom snapped. But her tone had no edge.

  Soon they were reasonably ready. They returned to the main hall, where Electra waited. “The King and Queen will see you now,” she said. “Then you can have breakfast.”

  Karen was glad of that, and knew the others were too.

  They entered a spacious hall. There were a number of people there. “How are we supposed to address them?” Dad whispered urgently. “We don't wish to give offense, but—”

  “Just speak when spoken to,” a voice said beside them, startling them. Karen looked, but there was only a vase.

  There turned out to be no difficulty. The King was striding toward them, with Trenita Imp on his shoulder.

  “Hello, Mister. Baldwin,” the King said, extending his right hand. “I am King Dor. We are very glad to see you.”

  “You can say that again,” the voice said. This time Karen was sure it was the vase. There must be something in it.

  Dad shook hands with the King. “Thank you, your majesty,” he said. “We—”

  “Oh, just call him Dor,” the vase said. “Everybody does.”

  The King smiled. “I should explain that my magic talent is speaking to the inanimate, and having it answer. At times it gets rather impertinent. But the vase is correct; we prefer informality, especially since our business is urgent and vital to the welfare of Xanth. Standing on ceremony takes too much time.”

  “Thank you—Dor,” Dad said.