“I will serve his time too,” Willow said.
“No you won't!” Sean protested. “You would never have gotten into this trouble if you hadn't stopped to help
me.”
“I'm not sorry. The memory will be worth it.”
“The memory of the love you will no longer have?” Chlorine asked.
“Yes. The love spring did it, but I know he is worthy of it.”
“Sean?” David asked incredulously.
“I'll serve my own time,” Sean said.
“But then you would have to stay in Xanth,” Chlorine pointed out.
He glanced at her. She was still absolutely lovely and sexy, but he no longer cared. “So?”
“So if you have to stay anyway, why not stay in love with her?”
Sean was astonished. She was right. “Maybe take the potion after the Service is done,” he said, looking at Willow. But she demurred. “If we are not to marry, it would only be torture,” she said. “And I know you have business in your own world. I am native; I will serve the time for us both. This is the practical thing.”
She was right, too. Yet it wasn't fair.
They were now at the RV. “I think Willow will be with us for a while,” Mom said briskly. “The rest of you show her the RV, while Jim and I discuss something outside.”
Sean was not sure that was good news, but there was nothing to do but go along with it. “Come, Willow—we'll show you our magic moving house.”
“I have seen it from afar,” Willow said. “I do not mind where I am, as long as I am with you.”
Chlorine shook her head. “If this is what a love spring offers, I'm going to find one when I'm ready to marry.”
“You should,” Sean agreed. “It's total.” That was the understatement of the day.
Chapter 12
COMPLICATIONS
Mary got Jim safely out of earshot of those in the RV. “That girl,” she said.
“With wings,” he agreed, as if he didn't know her concern.
“They can't be together.”
“Mary, they can't be apart, either. They're in love.”
“You know what I mean. He's going to want to sleep with her—and she'll let him.”
He nodded. “This is the nature of young love.”
“You're not taking this seriously!”
He looked at her. “On the contrary, I'm being realistic.
I have heard about those love springs. They will not be denied. When animals get into them—”
“Jim, we're not animals!”
“In certain respects, we are. When it comes to—”
“Don't be impossible. What are we going to do?”
“Mary, he's seventeen, and she's about the same. That's old enough.”
“It's not old enough!”
“How old were we when—”
“Thirty-one and twenty-nine.”
“Our second marriages,” he reminded her. “How old were you the first time you had sex?”
“Don't be uncouth.”
“Sorry. The first time you tried to signal the stork?”
“That has no relevance.”
“Doesn't it? I was seventeen—Sean's age. How about you?”
“Fifteen,” she answered reluctantly. “But I didn't enjoy it.”
“It's allright only if you don't enjoy it?”
“That's not what I mean. That girl would love to—”
But she had to stop, because he had already shot down that approach. “Anyway, it was different in our day.”
“Yes, we were teens. Now we're mature fogies whose sexual energies are diminished, so we can safely condemn contemporary teens for having our past urges.”
“I didn't say that.” Then she made a counter sally.
“Did you bring the girl into your house and tell your parents?”
He laughed. “Think I was suicidal? They were just like us—as we are now.”
That stung, but she plowed on. “Are we to give them space in the RV to—to share a bed? With David and Karen knowing?” That concept finally set him back.
“Point made. But let me play devil's advocate a moment. There is no passion quite so strong as unrequited or unconsummated love. Isn't it possible that if we provide them with Mundane antistork devices and let them indulge their passions, they would get over that aspect and be able to make a more rational decision when the time comes to separate?”
“Did our indulgence cause us to reconsider marriage?” she asked evenly.
He raised his hands in a surrender gesture. “No, I liked you even better after than before.” He pondered a moment.
“We have not had long to observe them, but it is my impression that they have not yet indulged—”
“They were alone less than ten minutes.”
“Plus their bath in the love spring. They resisted temptation because they knew the relationship had no future. I think that must have been mostly Willow's doing, because Sean never showed all that much maturity in decisions before. She strikes me as—well, as a woman who would be worthy of him, in other circumstances, wings or not.”
“No question,” Mary agreed, surprisingly. “She's a sensible and generous person. What little I have seen of her so far, I like very well. But the fact is that they are not for each other, being of different realms and different species, and Xanth is stricter about babies out of wedlock than the real world is. But as you say, young passions are strong. How long could they hold out, if we put them constantly together?” “Fifteen minutes?”
“So what do we do?”
He sighed. “We move Willow in with Karen or Chlorine, and Sean with David. We keep company with them constantly. But I'm going to feel like a jailer.”
“It is necessary.” Then, satisfied with her victory, she kissed him.
“I'll take that as a promise for the time we get alone,” he said.
“To be sure.”
They returned to the RV. It was crowded, because there were now nine people in it, counting the demoness, plus the pets. At least the big chick had returned to his governess; they and the dragons would remain on the mesa until the winds abated. This had been the most remarkable menagerie she had encountered, even in imagination. She was privately amazed at herself for taking it all in stride. But what else was she to do? She was a long way from her specialty of archaic Mundane languages.
Jim took the wheel, and she the front passenger seat.
The others were arranged all around the main section of the vehicle. Sean and Willow were holding hands, while David and Karen were eagerly questioning them about everything, especially love springs. “If David and I fell in a love spring, would we fall in love?” Karen asked.
“Yuckk!” David cried.
But Willow had an answer. “I think not, because you are not party to the Adult Conspiracy. But you might quarrel less.”
“Were you nekked together in that pool?” David asked.
“Yuck!” Karen said, for nuisance value.
“Yes, naked,” Sean answered. “We washed each other's backs. And that's all we did.”
That last was for Mary's benefit, she knew. She appreciated it.
“Except for kissing,” Willow said.
Jim nudged the RV forward. He circled toward the demon tunnel. The passengers opened the Windows and waved to the roc and dragons, who napped a wing and snorted smoke or fire into the air, respectively, in response.
It had indeed been a good joint effort, and successful. But there was more to do.
Mentia floated out through the metal in the unnerving way she had and stretched her arms impossibly wide to indicate the outline of the tunnel entrance, which was otherwise invisible. Jim steered for it, and the vehicle seemed to sink into the solid-looking rock. Then the surface of the ground closed overhead, and Jim turned on the headlights to illuminate the curving tunnel. The demoness, caught by surprise again (really)?, was shown in phenomenally full breasted nudity, sans panties, of course, but recovered after too l
ong a moment and formed a tight dress around her voluptuous torso.
“A man could get to like Xanth,” Jim murmured in a tone just loud enough for her to hear.
“Oh?” Mary said in a tone just loud enough for the demoness to overhear. “Suppose she became a raving monster?”
Mentia obligingly became a raving monster, with spikes at every joint and enormous dripping fangs.
“I've been set up,” Jim muttered, as Mary and Mentia laughed.
The drive down was slow but uneventful; the phantasms did not reappear. When they emerged from the base it was evening. “Do we have time to camp for the night?” Jim called to Chlorine in back.
She checked with Nimby. “Yes, if we don't mind the - madness.”
“We'll stay in the RV,” he said. “But we'll forage outside for food, et cetera.”
“Cetera?” Willow asked.
“He means natural functions,” Sean said.
“Isn't everything natural?”
“Poop,” David said, then paused in surprise. “Hey, I got the bad word out! No bleep.”
“The madness is overriding the Adult Conspiracy,” Mentia explained.
“But don't let it go to your head,” Mary called severely.
“Well, I wouldn't want it to go there,” the boy retorted.
“What a mess,” Karen agreed. “But are you sure your face isn't made of it?”
“What's on my face?”
“Nothing. That's the way you look all the time.”
Things were getting back to normal. Mary was pleased to note in the rearview mirror that Willow was blushing.
Definitely a refined creature. If only Sean could meet someone like her in Miami!
Nimby directed them to a reasonable place, and Jim parked the RV. “Pee break!” David cried, reveling in the newfound freedom from bleeping.
They got out and spread out, accomplishing their various purposes, and Mentia found a good pie tree. Mary would have preferred something more nutritious, but had pretty much given up on that particular fight in this realm.
Pies were simply too abundant and convenient and popular.
Then they set up the RV for the night, and neither Sean nor Willow made any objection to Mary's bedding assignments. They did indeed comprehend the risks of doing otherwise. They settled down for sleep.
Which wasn't ideal. Because of the presence of Chlorine, Nimby, and Willow, their beds were all full, so that she and Jim had to sleep in the front seats. Jim simply slumped down with his pillow against the door and zonked out, but it took her longer to settle down. And naturally she heard something.
Someone was stirring in the RV. The sound was slight, suggesting that whoever it was didn't want to disturb anyone else. Was it a toilet call? The children had been cautioned not to go out alone, because Xanth really was dangerous, especially at night. The spell on the RV provided considerable security, but that was no good outside.
Mary was about to inquire, but decided to keep quiet.
It wasn't that she was a snoop, but she did want to know exactly what was going on. There was too much about this magic land that was disturbing in the best of times, and the dust of madness made it worse, and night made it worse yet, and the addition of that winged girl, however nice a person she undoubtedly was, made it even more so.
She loved Sean, without doubt; the human signs were all over her. But that was its own complication. Was she getting up, to go out for a solitary flying session, or to be alone with Sean? There was little doubt what the two would do, if they got alone together. So maybe Mary should follow them out, just making her presence known, and scotch that at the start.
The side door opened, amazingly quietly, and closed.
Someone had exited the RV. Who? She thought by the sounds that it was just one; there had been no whispered dialogue. That argued against Sean and Willow. Then who was it? And why?
There was a light tap at her window. She jumped, caught by surprise. The person, far from hiding, was signaling her!
She looked. It was Nimby. Oh. He followed his own rules, and certainly wasn't bound by theirs. But what then of Chlorine? If Nimby and Chlorine wanted to indulge themselves together, it certainly wasn't Mary's place to oppose it, as long as it wasn't in sight of the children. But Chlorine hadn't left her bed; Mary could recognize her particular pattern of breathing.
Nimby beckoned. What could he want? Well, she would find out. He was a strange one, and she knew he was really a dragon, but she had no fear of him. Had he wished to do them any ill, he had had countless opportunities. Certainly he wouldn't find her a romantic object—not with Chlorine there. So it was something else.
She opened the door carefully and got out, closing it as carefully behind her. Then she turned to face Nimby.
“Yes?” she inquired in a low whisper.
For answer, he became the donkey-headed diagonally striped dragon. This time she noticed two things she hadn't noticed before; either she had been unobservant, or he had changed. She suspected the latter. One change was that his scales were glowing, outlining him in the darkness so that she had no trouble seeing him. The other was that the scales in his center portion were formed into the shape of a saddle.
“You want me to ride you?” she asked.
The equine head nodded.
He surely had a reason. He seemed to know everything that went on in the vicinity. So he must know something now.
The head nodded again.
“Why, you can read my thoughts!” she exclaimed.
Another nod.
So he had known she was awake and listening, and had come for her. But why? Was there some danger?
One more nod.
And they could alleviate it? By taking action now?
Nod.
Then they had better get busy. She approached him and climbed into the saddle. It was surprisingly comfortable.
There were projecting scales in front that served as perfect handholds, surely by no coincidence. Even some below for her feet to rest on. Nimby was the perfect mount.
The pastel pink stripes turned red. “Why, Nimby, you're blushing!” she murmured. “Because I complimented your status as a mount.”
Embarrassed nod.
Then Nimby moved. Mary had had her youthful fling with horses, so had a fair amount of experience riding.
Nothing fancy, but she was competent. Nimby's gait was odd—then less odd—and finally exactly like that of a good horse. He was accommodating her memory of riding. He was certainly easy to get along with.
They got up speed. Mary strained to see where they were going in the darkness—and then Nimby's eyes glowed brightly, sending out beams of light as if they were headlights, showing her everything ahead. “Thank you,” she murmured, patting a scale. No wonder Chlorine kept company with this versatile creature. And he had made Chlorine look the way she did. He was really a remarkable entity. Just how powerful was his magic?
For a moment the dragon seemed nervous about something. Mary looked around, but saw nothing dangerous, and knew that Nimby wouldn't let anything bad approach.
She returned to her chain of thought. No, potent magic wasn't necessary to explain Nimby. He was making the most of his shape-changing and mind-reading abilities, so seemed much more talented than he perhaps was. Possibly he drew on the mental powers of the person he was with, thus enhancing his abilities. That would explain a good deal. He was probably a very specially talented animal, who became more than that when associated with a human being.
Nimby seemed to relax. And now he reached his destination. There was a big old dead tree with a splintered trunk. The wood looked firm and dry, not rotten despite its evident age. In fact, it looked a bit like those two pieces of reverse wood that Chlorine had reported using to nullify that nuisance machine that had captured Woofer and Tweeter.
Nimby nodded.
“Reverse wood?” she asked, startled. “You brought me here to fetch reverse wood?”
Nod.
Mentia
appeared. “What are you two up to, in the dead of night?” she asked. Then she spied the tree. “Oops—I can't touch that!” She vanished.
“And as a Mundane, I can handle it without suffering reversal of my magic,” Mary said. “While you might be in trouble. Very well; how much do you need?”
It turned out that he needed a bundle. She pulled fragments from the tree and bound them together with a vine, then held the bundle in her arms as Nimby carried her back toward the RV. Then she laid pieces of wood in a large circle around the RV, spaced only a few feet apart. That should be one insidiously effective defense perimeter, she thought.
Nimby nodded.
Mentia reappeared. “Deadly,” she remarked.
They finished the job and returned to the RV. Before she climbed back in, Mary kissed one donkey ear. “It's nice to have you looking out for us,” she said. “Even if it is just to help Chlorine complete her assignment.” The ear blushed.
Mary settled back in her seat, and Nimby resumed his human form and rejoined Chlorine in back. No one had missed them. This time Mary went right to sleep.
At dawn the others didn't even notice the circle of wood, but Mary saw that enormous tracks came directly toward the RV, touched the circle, and became hopelessly confused. Probably a hungry land dragon had sniffed them out, but been balked by the reversal of its nature or magic.
Nimby must have seen it coming, and quietly taken the measure required to abate the menace. To protect Chlorine—and her mission. It was really Nimby the Good Magician had sent them, in the guise of sending Chlorine.
Mary gathered up the wood and tied it back into its bundle. Now it neutralized itself, as it did when in its original tree trunk, but its potential remained. She stacked it in the RV for future use. .
Now Chlorine consulted with Nimby to see what route they should take where, to get the windbreaker where it would be most effective. To their surprise, he did not recommend the trollway. Instead it turned out that they would have to seek the help of a number of individuals scattered across the area. The first was Modem.
“That looks a lot like a Mundane term,” Jim remarked.
“Surely coincidence.”
They found a gas guzzler and refueled, then set off on a tortuous trip through the forest until they came to an isolated shack. The windows were boarded over, but not because it was deserted; the family was battening down for the terrible storm that was building. The RV stopped beside it.