Knot Gneiss

  Then they heard an odd puffing sound, interspersed by groud-shaking whomps. “That would be the Gap Dragon,” Jumper said. “I believe he will remember me. You are on good terms, Ida?”

  “Excellent terms,” Ida agreed. “My sister Ivy tamed him decades ago, and now he accepts me as well as her.”

  “A dragon?” Hilarion asked, drawing his sword.

  “No, please, no!” Ida said. “There is no need for that, and the dragon would simply steam you from well beyond sword range. Put it away.”

  He sheathed his sword, but did not look much reassured.

  The green dragon whomped into sight. He had six legs, stubby little wings, and a huge hot head from which jets of steam puffed. He was a steamer, rather than a smoker or a fire-breather. Wenda knew that steam was quite enough to cook a person. He whomped because his legs weren’t long enough for effective running, so he made snakelike curves up and down, moving forward section by section. It looked inefficient, but Wenda knew it wasn’t; the Gap Dragon could catch what he chose to, in the chasm.

  Ida went out to meet the dragon. She hugged the hot head without getting steamed. They did seem to be friends.

  Then she introduced the others to the dragon. “Jumper Spider, whom you know from last year; he is now the Prince of Spiders, and married to the Demoness Eris. Wenda Woodwife, who is now the wife of Prince Charming. Prince Hilarion, on a Quest to find his betrothee. Meryl Mermaid, looking for she’s not sure what. And Angela Angel, who needs to become a woman of substance.”

  The dragon nodded, accepting them.

  “And this is Stanley Steamer, the Gap Dragon,” Ida said, completing the introduction.

  “We are glad to meet you in peace,” Hilarion said, just a shade too politely.

  The dragon puffed out a harmless cloud of steam in acknowledgment. Wenda knew that it could readily have been extremely harmful, had they encountered the dragon as opponents.

  “We have an important mission here,” Ida continued. “I would appreciate it if you made sure that no one interferes with us while we are in the chasm.”

  The dragon nodded again, puffing out a cloud of steam. Wenda realized that they would be quite safe in the chasm.

  Now they oriented on the Knot, using Wenda’s awareness of it. They followed the chasm west, then found a smaller split to the north, and followed that. But night, closing early in the depths, caught up with them before they reached the Knot, so they camped, harvesting pies and milk pods for dinner.

  Angela was restless. “The approach of evening reminds me. Something happened last night that I don’t understand. I was gazing at the stars, when they seemed to jump about seven minutes forward in their arcs. Was I imagining it?”

  Wenda smiled. “You were not. You are not the only woman who ever showed her boyfriend her panties. Jumper and I had conjugal visits lasting that long. The rest of the party was put in stasis so as not to be disturbed. You were observant, noting the seeming jump of the stars.”

  “Well, I’m a Heavenly creature. I notice celestial events.” She smiled sadly. “I envy you your visits.”

  That gave Wenda an idea. “Jumper, do you think Eris would be willing to arrange—”

  “I believe she would,” he agreed.

  They said no more. But as they settled down to sleep under the stars, and Charming and Eris appeared, Wenda heard Angela’s surprised voice. “Beauregard! However did you manage to escape your chores in H*ll?”

  “I am a small-d demon,” he replied. “Eris is a big-D Demoness. She can freeze Hell over, if she chooses, and maybe H*aven too. And she did. They won’t notice the seven minutes I am gone.”

  “But why—?”

  “It seems your friend Jumper sent her a telepathic message. Something about conjugal visits. She likes to please him.”

  “But we’re not married!”

  “Not yet,” he said. “Don’t tell.”

  Then he must have done something naughty, because Angela squealed with guilty pleasure and ceased talking. She might lack substance in Xanth, but evidently could relate to the demon with no physical difficulty.

  In five more minutes things reverted to normal, except for the memories. Wenda had hardly noticed Charming’s activity, this time, though she was sure she had satisfied him. She had been distracted by eavesdropping on Angela’s affair. She knew she shouldn’t have, but hadn’t been able to help herself.

  “Oh, my,” Angela murmured, adjusting her halo, which had somehow been nudged askew. “What an experience! They will never let me back into Heaven now.”

  “Do you even want to return?” Wenda asked.

  “No. I just want to be with Beauregard, even if it d*mns me to H*ll.”

  “I hope you succeed,” Wenda said sincerely. Meanwhile, she was glad that the Demoness had elected to provide Angela with a bit of illicit joy, in case she didn’t make it to substance.

  The other three members of their party seemed unaware of what had happened, though they surely suspected. This was an unusual Quest, at least in this respect.

  They slept at last, and the remaining night was uneventful. Wenda hoped they would reach the Knot next day, and that they would be able to move it. But she feared it would not be easy.

  In the morning they handled morning chores and resumed travel into the narrowing gorge that was the Gap offshoot. Wenda understood already that getting a boulder out of this would be a chore. Would they be able to roll it along the path up the face of the cliff?

  At last, as the crack narrowed almost too much to allow them passage, they reached it. Wenda knew it, because she saw the other members of the party getting frightened. That could only be caused by petrified reverse wood.

  “I seem to be in the grip of an unfamiliar emotion,” Hilarion remarked.

  “It is fear,” Wenda said. “We are approaching the Not. It petrifies all who come near it.”

  “Weird. I always wondered what fear felt like. I can’t say I like it.”

  “Nobody does,” Ida said.

  “I forgot,” Wenda said. “We will need reverse would—a lot of it.”

  “I thought you said the Knot was made of reverse wood,” Angela said.

  “Petrified reverse would. That changes its qualities. Its substance will feel like rock—actually much like nice—”

  “Gneiss,” Jumper murmured.

  “Thank you. And its effect is fear rather than reversal. So I will have to clothe the Not in reverse wood, to change its effect on the rest of you.”

  “That will surely help,” Meryl said tightly. She was looking somewhat green about the gills, despite lacking gills. Nobody liked being afraid.

  “First we must locate the would,” Wenda said. “I have no idea where any would be. I really should have anticipated this problem.”

  “Stanley Steamer will know,” Ida said.

  Wenda turned to Meryl. “Please, would you fly to Stanley and ask him where there is reverse would?”

  “I’m afraid he’ll steam me,” Meryl said.

  “He won’t,” Ida said. “He knows you now. It is the nearby Knot that is making you afraid.”

  “Of course,” Meryl agreed nervously.

  “I can ask him,” Angela said. “He can’t steam me.”

  “We’ll go together,” Meryl said, evidently relieved to have company.

  The two winged females flew off down the crevasse.

  “You wait here,” Wenda said. “I will go to check the Not. It does not affect me.”

  “Which is why this is your Quest,” Jumper said appreciatively. “The Good Magician always knows whom to send.”

  “He does indeed,” Ida agreed. She too was plainly fearful; she was not immune.

  Wenda walked on around the bend in the cleft and came into sight of the Knot. It was a massive boulder that seemed almost to glint with stony malice. She was not afraid, but she was definitely wary. This was physically inert, but not emotionally passive. It would mess them up if it could. It was her job to make sure it could
not.

  Beside it stood the wagon, stout enough to support the Knot. Somehow the Good Magician had managed to get it there.

  She stood before the boulder. Now she could see the curling grain of it. It had indeed been part of a huge tree before getting buried eons ago. Surely a tree like no other. She could feel its lingering power radiating out to infuse the very air with fear, horror, revulsion, and other benumbing emotions. Had she not originated as wood, she would indeed have been petrified.

  “Well, Not,” she said boldly, “I am here to move you to a safe place.”

  It responded with an added blast of malevolence. It understood her!

  This set her back, but she was determined not to let it gain any advantage. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Not,” she said. “You can draw in your invisible fangs and let us transport you, or you can extend them and force us to nullify you. Either way, you will be moved.”

  The answering blast was so fierce that she knew it would never relent. The Knot was definitely not nice. In fact, it might not be much of an exaggeration to call it an evil artifact.

  “So be it,” she said with regret. “I think you understand me despite a certain problem I have with some words. As you may have guessed, I am a former wouldwife, made whole by love and fulfillment, but I retain my ability to work with would. That includes immunity to your power, though ordinary reverse would can affect me. So you can’t terrify me with your ambiance.” She turned and walked away, feeling the virtual heat of its ire against her back. It was like a muzzled dragon, desperate to express its devastating internal fire. That was really too bad, because she had to respect wood this powerful. She would much rather have worked with it than against it.

  She rejoined Jumper, Hilarion, and Ida, who were holding grimly firm against the horror of the Knot’s radiation. “It is the Not, and it doesn’t want to be moved, but the only power it has is the aversion it can generate in others.” She paused an instant or two, struck by a question. “I wonder why it objects? Surely the Good Magician will give it a good home, and appreciate its special nature.”

  “It doesn’t want to be caged,” Ida said. “The Good Magician will keep it out of mischief.”

  Ah. That did make sense. “I told it we were going to move it regardless. I don’t think it can stop us.”

  “I am wary,” Jumper said. “The inanimate can be perverse and sometimes surprising. We shall have to be careful.”

  “We shall have to be,” Ida agreed. “We can feel its ugly power from here. It may try to drive the rest of us off, so that you won’t be able to cope alone.”

  “It is already trying,” Wenda agreed grimly. “But the reverse would should nullify that.”

  “Can we be sure of that?” Hilarion asked. “It is my understanding that reverse wood can have different effects, not necessarily reversing things in ways that might be expected or wished.”

  “I think it will work,” Wenda said. “Because the Not has only one power, petrification, so that’s all that can be reversed.”

  “But what about the rest of us?” he asked. “We have multiple aspects.”

  “I had not thought of that,” Wenda said. “I hope you will be able to cope.”

  “We shall have to,” he agreed bravely.

  There were things to like about this prince. If Wenda hadn’t already been safely married, she might have found him interesting.

  “I have an idea,” Ida said. “We might use my carpet. That could float it out of the chasm.”

  That was an intriguing notion. “You don’t mind walking?”

  “I am here to help the mission. I can walk, especially at the slow pace likely when transporting the Knot.”

  “Then let me see if that will work,” Wenda said.

  Ida brought out the rolled carpet and gave it to Wenda. Wenda carried it back to the Knot. “You will get a ride,” she told the boulder.

  The Knot radiated a fresh burst of ire.

  Wenda spread out the carpet, and put it against the base of the Knot. “Now just a little roll, and you will be on it.” She pushed against the Knot.

  To her surprise, the Knot rolled just enough, landing squarely on the carpet. Could it really be that easy?

  “Up,” Wenda told the carpet.

  It lifted, but the Knot did not come with it. Wenda peered closely. To her horror, she saw that the Knot had burned a hole in the carpet. It had been ruined. “Oh!”

  There was something odd radiating from the Knot. After half a moment, Wenda realized what it was: mean-spirited laughter.

  “Bleep!” she muttered. The Knot had won this one.

  Wenda returned to the others. “It burned the carpet,” she said. “I am sorry, Ida. I did not know.”

  “It was my idea,” Ida said graciously. “I did not know either. It was worth trying.” There was no hint of blame in her tone.

  Meryl and Angela returned. “Stanley Steamer’s okay,” Meryl said. “He’s a winged monster, as I am. We were able to converse.”

  “I think he even likes her,” Angela said. “He thinks she has a beautiful tail.”

  “He does think that,” Meryl agreed, blushing.

  “Well, you do,” Hilarion said gallantly. “And that’s not all.” He had learned how to gaze at her bare front without freaking out.

  “But about the reverse wood?” Ida inquired tightly. The baleful ambiance of the Knot was still affecting her.

  “He has a cache,” Meryl said. “He told us where it is.”

  “It seems he doesn’t like to encounter reverse wood,” Angela said. “It messes him up. We’re not clear how, but it annoys him something awful. They all seem to be of the same variety. So he has packed away all the chips of it found in the chasm in a secluded grotto he never goes near.”

  “How did he do that, if touching it messes him up?” Jumper asked.

  Meryl smiled. “He explained, in gestures. Sometimes elves, gnomes, goblins, trolls or other manlike crossbreeds stray into the chasm and he catches them. If he’s not too hungry at the moment, he gives them a choice: get steamed for a future meal, or carry a chip to the grotto. Most of them decide to carry the chip, despite its effect.”

  “Maybe it reverses their personalities,” Hilarion said. “Goblins and trolls hate to become nice folk.”

  Angela shook her head. “We got the impression it was more complicated than that.”

  “Well, let’s find out,” Wenda said. “We shall go to fetch the chips.”

  “How did he find them all?” Hilarion asked.

  “One of the folk he made a deal with was Chris Cross, whose talent was to search an area and catalog everything there,” Meryl said. “So Chris located all the reverse wood in the Gap Chasm. Now others are carrying it to the cache, bit by bit.”

  “That sounds like a fair amount of would,” Wenda said.

  “There’s quite a pile, we understand,” Meryl said. “We may need some way to haul it.”

  “I will fetch the wagon,” Wenda said. She walked back to the Knot and took hold of the handle of the wagon. It was wood throughout, which she appreciated. She understood wood, even if she could no longer pronounce it correctly.

  The Knot had no eyes, but somehow it managed to glare at her. It knew she was making progress despite its victory over the carpet.

  She hauled the wagon to the others. It was heavy, and she was breathing hard. “Let me help you with that,” Hilarion said, taking the handle. She realized that he had been looking at her chest. What was it about hard breathing that attracted men’s attention?

  Meryl and Angela flew ahead, showing the way. Hilarion and Jumper took turns hauling the heavy wagon. The way was bumpy, but manageable.

  In due course they reached the grotto. It was indeed secluded, hidden by a tangle of vines. They would have missed it entirely had the winged girls not known exactly where to look. As it was, they had to maneuver the wagon over a ledge to enter.

  They entered the grotto. There was the reverse wood: a goo
d-sized mound of chips and branches. It looked like an ordinary brush pile, but Wenda knew it wasn’t. She had never before seen this much reverse wood in one place.

  “Well, let’s load it,” Hilarion said. He stepped forward and picked up a fair-sized branch. And paused, dismayed.

  His clothing hung loosely in some places, and stretched tightly in others. What had happened to him?

  “You’re a girl!” Meryl exclaimed, astonished.

  “Oh, no!” he/she exclaimed, glancing down at a front that was fully as full as those he had been viewing on Meryl and Wenda. Apparently he/she wasn’t completely thrilled to have one of his/her own.

  “Maybe I had better load it,” Meryl said. She flew to the pile and picked up a small branch. “Oops.”

  For she was now a winged merman, with broad shoulders, a flat chest, and a masculine midsection that caused Wenda to avert her gaze.

  “I think we now have a notion what kind of reversal this particular variety of reverse wood accomplishes,” Jumper said.

  “But it should be a temporary effect,” Ida said. “Only when we are actually touching it. We can load the wagon, then avoid direct contact. It is not an unbearable situation.” She marched forward, picked up a branch, turned male, put the branch on the wagon, and let go. Sure enough, he/she reverted to female.

  Angela tried to help, but was unable to touch the wood, let alone pick any of it up, so she was not changed.

  That showed the way. They fell to with a will, piling the reverse wood on the wagon. Wenda was unaffected, being immune to the effect of reverse wood. “I wood knot have asked this of yew, had I known,” she said as she placed the last chip. And paused. “What did I just say?”

  “You are back in the forest accent,” Jumper said. “The wood reversed your dialect.”

  “But I’m immune!” she protested.

  “But the Good Magician’s language spell isn’t,” Ida said, catching on.

  That explained it. When Wenda stood away from the wood, she could no longer say “wood” correctly. “So when there’s not a gender to reverse, it reverses what it can,” she concluded. “I can live with that. I do not have to touch it at the moment.”