Knot Gneiss

  “But not just any fish. He’s the leader of the local school. He can help us if he chooses to. You must talk to him.”

  “I can’t go down there,” Wenda protested.

  “Sure you can. Just put rocks in your feet to weight you down.”

  “But I’d drown!”

  “I don’t think so. You’re made of wood now.”

  Wenda remembered it was true. As a woodwife she could talk, but without breathing. She was a magical creature. She had become accustomed to the state of being a real woman. Real women needed to breathe to better show off their bosoms. “Why does Theodore want to talk to me?”

  “I told him of our Quest, and how we need to make a landing here. I said you are our leader. He’s interested, but he must protect the lake.”

  “Doesn’t the Wailing Monster do that?” Angela asked.

  “It protects the surface,” Meryl said. “But the landing will be built up from below.”

  “Then I will talk to him,” Wenda agreed. “Except I dew knot know water talk.”

  “We anticipated that problem. Ted gave me a sea biscuit.” She held it forth.

  “A biscuit?”

  “It’s a linguistic accommodation spell. Like the gift of tongues you gave Jumper. This does it for the sea.”

  Oh. Wenda took it and chewed it up. “Is it working?”

  “Yes.”

  “How dew yew know?”

  “Because now we are talking sea talk.”

  “It seems just the same.”

  “The translation makes you hear it in your own tongue. Now weight your feet.”

  They foraged for suitable rocks, and fitted two into the hollow fronts of her feet. Then Wenda stepped off the edge into the water.

  She sank swiftly. She saw fish all around: a hammerhead chasing after several nailheads, a sawfish sawing a boardfish, piggish hogfish, a pole-like pike, a dangerously sharp swordfish, a little birdlike perch on a strand of seaweed, a crowned kingfish, several gold- and silverfish, a colorful banded rainbow trout, a sailfish sailing blithely along, a pair of skates sliding along a ledge, and a shining ray coming from a bright sunfish that illuminated the whole region.

  “The sea horse even let me ride him,” Meryl said, having no trouble speaking under water; she was after all a mermaid. She was flying, her wings propelling her smoothly through the liquid. “Ah, here we are.”

  They were at the bottom, before a large sleeping shell. A sign said WAKE SHELL. Meryl grasped it by two edges and shook. It woke and opened wide, repealing a dark tunnel.

  Oh. It was a pun on Shake Well.

  “This way,” Meryl said, swimming into the hole.

  Bemused, Wenda followed, walking carefully so that her feet did not lose their stones.

  They came to a chamber that looked like the aftermath of a bad battle. It was piled high with arms and legs.

  “What is this?” Wenda asked uncomfortably.

  “A loan shark’s den. He takes all the arms and legs people let him get, and stores them here.”

  Oh. She should have known.

  “Halt,” a deep voice said.

  “This is the bass,” Meryl murmured. Then, to the fish: “We have come to see Ted.”

  “Very well,” the bass boomed.

  Then they were before Theodore Sturgeon, a large beautiful fish. “I am Wenda Woodwife,” Wenda said. “I wood like to ask a favor of yew.”

  “You are a woodwife,” Ted said. “Not just an empty head.”

  “I am,” she agreed, realizing that her dialect came through in sea talk.

  “You care about nature.”

  “Yes, I dew.”

  “So why do you want to build a landing in our pristine lake?”

  “We have to, to make up for stealing a tourist boat.”

  “You are thieves?”

  “No. The goblins were after us. We took what was offered. Now we have to pay.”

  “You have a hard roe to hoe.”

  “Yew speak the sea dialect!” But how could it be otherwise? This was his medium.

  “Just as you speak the forest dialect,” the fish agreed. “So I know I can trust you. But I need your assurance that you will not despoil our unspoiled lake.”

  “All we want is to make a landing. We thought we wood dredge gravel from the bottom.”

  “Dredge!” Ted exclaimed, appalled. “Never! It chews up the bass something awful.”

  “Then maybe if there are rocks we can pile.”

  “There are volcanic rocks, fragments of old lava. But there is a problem.”

  There was always a problem. “What might that bee?”

  “It is the abode of the kraken. He does not like intruders.”

  She knew of the dread kraken weed, that could make large whirlpools just by waving its tentacles around. “Then we are lost,” she said regretfully.

  “Not necessarily. He might listen to you, because you’re a winsome wood nymph. He doesn’t get many visitors. I think he’s a bit lonely. All you have to do is persuade him.”

  Wenda quailed. “I’m afraid he wood eat me.”

  “He wouldn’t eat wood. Just flesh.”

  She had forgotten her reverted nature again. It had its advantages. “Then I will talk to him.”

  “But I think I won’t,” Meryl said. “Because I am flesh.”

  “Delightful flesh,” Ted agreed. “Stay and visit a while. We don’t get too many winged mermaids here.”

  Meryl smiled. “Do you get any?”

  “A winged merman once. Does he count?”

  “You must tell me more,” Meryl said eagerly.

  The sturgeon nodded. “I shall be glad to. But first let me send your friend on her way.”

  “Yes,” Meryl agreed. “Wenda, if you get lost, simply get your rocks off and float to the surface.”

  “But I have knot talked to the kraken yet.”

  “The coelacanth will take you there and introduce you. He has been around a long time.” Ted turned his head. “Seel! Are you dead? Rouse yourself.”

  Another large fish roused itself from a coffin-like alcove. “Reports of my extinction have been greatly exaggerated.” It swam close. “What’s a pretty wood half-nymph doing down here?”

  “I have to talk with the kraken,” Wenda said.

  “Take hold. Hang on.”

  She put her arms around the solid body. “Like this? Will it knot hamper yew when yew swim?”

  “The embrace of a nymph never slows me down,” Seel said gallantly.

  Wenda would have blushed if she were able to in this medium. So the fish was male. Every male liked nymphs. He was nevertheless doing her a favor. She hung on.

  Seel flexed his powerful tail and moved forward. In a quarter of a moment they were past the loan shark’s cache, and in half a moment they were out of the awake shell and forging through the lake. In three-quarters of a moment they came to a region of tumbled lava rocks. And in a full moment they were before the awesome kraken weed.

  “Who dares intrude on my domain?” the kraken demanded.

  “This is Wenda Woodwife,” Seel said. “Don’t eat her. She doesn’t taste good.”

  “Ha ha ha,” the weed said sourly. “Your humor is eons out of date, fishhead. Canth you come up with better?”

  “While yours is only a few centuries dated,” Seel retorted.

  “We need to make a landing by piling up rocks,” Wenda said nervously, being not absolutely sure krakens did not eat wood. “So we can pay our debt to the alien tourist authority and bee on our way. Will yew help?”

  “Why should I help?”

  That stumped her. Why should the weed care what she might want? Then a bulb flashed over her head. The water quickly extinguished it, but not before she caught its notion. “Yew dew knot get much respect,” she said.

  “I’m a big ugly rapacious weed. Folk fear me. They don’t like me.”

  “Yes. But yew can win respect. All yew have to dew is pile lava rocks up to make a landing by the e
dge of the lake. Then the tourist Bems will come. Yew can come to the surface and grab at them. Yew will knot catch them because they have no substance here, but it will thrill them to bee threatened by a fearsome local monster. You will bee a major attraction. Maybee as much as the Wailing Monster. How is that for respect?”

  The weed was impressed. “As much as the Wailing Monster?”

  “It could bee, if yew are ferocious enough. The dreadful kraken will bee known throughout the local worlds and attract more tourists.”

  The kraken considered. “I will do it. Show me where.”

  Wenda gambled that this was not a cunning ploy to get her in reach. “Take me in a tentacle, and I will show yew where.”

  The kraken wrapped a tentacle around her body. She pointed up, and the giant weed rose grandly toward the surface.

  They arrived some distance around the rim from where the Bemway touched. A horrendous snaky head rose from the water and eyed Wenda. It salivated, then launched toward her, jaws gaping.

  Wenda screamed, but slightly too late. The mouth bit down on her left shoulder. And jerked back, surprised. A front tooth had broken on her wooden frame.

  “It is knot gneiss to bite visitors,” she reproved it. Then she turned to the rest of the kraken. “Did yew bring me here just to feed me to this ilk? I thought we had a deal.”

  The kraken made a weedy growl. A tentacle wrapped around the serpentine neck, squeezed it horrendously tight, and jerked the head off. This was evidently the kraken’s way of showing annoyance.

  Then two small heads sprouted from the severed neck. Six other heads rose out of the water to see what was going on. It was a hydra, a seven-headed sea monster.

  The eight heads surveyed the situation, then sank quietly out of sight. Wenda realized that if there was one thing that could make a fearsome immortal monster like a hydra back off, it was the kraken.

  “Thank yew.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to bother you,” the kraken said. “Maybe one of its scatterbrained heads got confused. So I reminded it.”

  “Yew did,” Wenda agreed, relieved. “The place is around the rim, to the south.”

  The kraken slid smoothly through the water. It might be a huge ugly tangled weed, but it was graceful in motion.

  They arrived at the site. Jumper, Hilarion, Ida, and Angela stood there, watching anxiously. Wenda waved.

  Soon she was explaining the deal. The others nodded; it made sense.

  The kraken set her down on the rim and got to work. In an hour it hauled a small pyramid of rough lava stones, piling them rapidly on top of one another. The landing was taking shape.

  Meryl reappeared. “I talked to the hydra,” she said. “It suffers from lack of respect too. It will put on its own show for the tourists. And Theodore too.”

  “Theodore wants to put on a show?” Wenda asked, surprised.

  “He’s a craftsfish. He does everything with style. But hardly anyone sees his talent while he remains below. So he will come to the surface and do some fancy leaps out of the water. The tourists should love it.”

  “Thank yew,” Wenda said. “Yew have really helped. The Bems should be pleased.”

  The Bems were. They arrived as the landing was getting its finishing touches, and the creatures put on their show. The sturgeon leaped high out of the water and splashed back in, the hydra hissed and lunged for them with several heads, the kraken threw myriad tentacles at them, and the Wailing Monster, attracted by the commotion, came running across the surface of the water, leaving its little round prints of wails behind.

  The Bems agreed it was a fine tourist stop. They expiated the charges against the party, and as a bonus gave them a pass to whatever connecting way they chose.

  Wenda was relieved. Was there a connection leading to the Good Magician’s Castle? No. She sighed, unrelieved.

  12

  FUN HOUSE

  They sat in the boat, with the brooding Knot in the center, slowly cruising nowhere in particular, and discussed it. “So what connection do we take?” Hilarion inquired.

  The others looked at Wenda. They expected her to decide. But she, sunk in a momentary funk, had no answer. All she wanted was to deliver the Knot to the Good Magician’s Castle, rather than traipse around tourist sites. Things kept getting in the way.

  Jumper stepped in. That was one big reason she had wanted him on this mission: he generally had an idea what to do. “Since we hardly know what offers, maybe we should simply watch the intersections and see what looks most promising.”

  “That makes sense to me,” Hilarion agreed, and the others nodded.

  “Thank yew,” Wenda breathed. It seemed so simple, once he had clarified it.

  They cruised along, watching intersections, which were plainly marked. The first one was not promising: HELL’S HOLE. It seemed to consist of towering flames, which lapped at the entry itself. “No!” Angela squeaked.

  “No,” Wenda agreed. It would be awful for any of them, but worse for an angel.

  They went by. The next intersection was labeled MONSTER’S APERITIF. “Why do I suspect that we would be the tasty delicacy?” Meryl murmured, gazing at the monsters crowding the sides, slavering their chops.

  They passed it by. But the next one hardly seemed better: GOOZLE GIZZARD. None of them were certain what it meant, but they didn’t trust it. The region looked swampy, with pairs of sparkling balls floating in the muck. Balls? Wenda suddenly realized that those were eyes. She hesitated to imagine what might lie beneath those eyes, but suspected it had many teeth and powerful jaws.

  The next was NEUTRON STAR. “Eris has mentioned things like that,” Jumper said. “We dare not go near. We would be squished down to the size of grains of sand.”

  Then HORROR HAREM, with a nice enough looking palace and cloaked figures walking through its gardens. “There might be girls there,” Hilarion said.

  “We’re not going there,” Ida said tightly.

  “Eris wouldn’t let me,” Jumper agreed. The others were unified: no.

  There was MOSQUITO DELIGHT. It seemed to be another giant swamp, with islands of trees, seemingly pleasant enough. “I would surely find many bugs to bite,” Jumper said. “But I doubt the rest of you would be comfortable.” They agreed to let that go.

  And SLIME MOUND, with a mountain of slime quivering. It was halfway pretty in its glistening greenish yellowish fashion, and slurped eagerly in their direction, but they decided not to risk it either.

  Then came FUN HOUSE. They slowed, considered, and took that exit. Fun was something they had been short of recently. Even if it didn’t help them deliver the Knot, it might be a place to relax.

  It led into a pleasant yard girt by trees, bushes, and walks. But there was no structure.

  They paused, remaining in the boat. “How can it be fun if there’s no house?” Meryl asked.

  “Maybe someone will see us and come,” Wenda said uncertainly.

  “Maybe it’s along one of these walks,” Jumper said. “This may simply be the landing place.”

  “I will explore the paths from above,” Meryl said.

  “I’ll help,” Angela said.

  The two girls flew up, hovered over the paths, then split and flew away.

  “It occurs to me that we were perhaps too trusting of the Bems,” Hilarion remarked. “They gave us free passage to a site of our choice, but did not actually say we would like it or benefit from it.”

  “I was making an effort not to voice a similar sentiment,” Ida said.

  He smiled wryly. “It seems unfortunate that we can’t agree on something more positive.”

  “Maybe you can,” Jumper said. “Let’s discuss this when our winged friends return, hoping to evoke some suggestion we can find useful.”

  “After making sure they have no notion of Ida’s talent,” Wenda said. “This approach may seem devious, but may bee more promising than trusting further to the good will of aliens.”

  Hilarion and Ida exchanged a glance, nodd
ing together. The young prince and the older princess seemed to be finding similarities of perspective despite their dissimilar natures, and their talents meshed nicely.

  After a while Angela and Meryl returned. “The paths simply loop around in a seeming maze,” Meryl reported.

  “They don’t go anywhere,” Angela agreed.

  “So it seems that whatever is here for us, needs to be found,” Jumper said. “I think we should discuss prospects, and check out any promising ones. What do you think?”

  “Could it be underground?” Angela asked.

  Wenda saw Ida getting ready to agree, but hesitate. She knew why: they had had enough of underground challenges.

  “Did you see any portals, like the one on Reverse World?” Jumper asked.

  “No,” Meryl said. “So whatever is here is invisible.”

  “Now that might be the case,” Ida agreed.

  Wenda realized that it would be the case. She kept silent.

  “I was being facetious,” Meryl said. “I just meant that this seems to be an empty park.”

  “But maybe invisible makes sense,” Angela said. “If they didn’t want strangers spotting it.”

  “It makes sense,” Ida agreed.

  “But how could anyone have fun in a house they can’t see?” Meryl asked.

  “Well, if it was a maze,” Angela said. “Like finding your way in darkness, except that it’s not dark, just invisible. That could be fun.”

  “Yes it could be,” Ida agreed.

  “But what would be the point?” Meryl demanded. “Just navigating a maze for its own sake isn’t much. There needs to be a reason for the challenge.”

  “There could be prizes,” Angela said. “Maybe things we really truly want, that we can have if we just solve the maze.”

  “Solving the maize,” Wenda agreed.

  “What do we really truly want, apart from getting this awful Knot delivered so we can relax?” Meryl asked.

  “What about your winged merman?” Angela asked.

  That set Meryl back. “I would do an invisible maze for that,” she agreed.

  “So maybe that’s a prize,” Angela said, smiling.

  “Perhaps it is,” Ida agreed.

  Wenda saw that this was taking shape. “Maybee we should make wishes, each of us, then see whether we can find them as prizes.”