Knot Gneiss

  “But they have to, so the stork can deliver.”

  “Yes. There will be no delivery.”

  Wenda was appalled. “But I want a baby!” she wailed. “I love children!”

  “I am so sorry,” Rose said, hugging her. “But I can tell you that your fulfillment will come from friendship.”

  There seemed to be no help for it. Her hope for the future was doomed. Now she would have to go home and tell Prince Charming. She was not at all sure how he would feel about it. He had never commented on the prospect of children. Would he be disappointed or relieved? Neither prospect appealed to her.

  Her numbness was gradually fading into grief. She needed to be alone, before she dissolved into an orgy of explendiferous self-pity.

  Not yet, the Demoness Eris’s mental voice came. Ida wants you for the wedding party.

  “The what?” Wenda asked, confused.

  Maid of Honor. You can’t decline.

  “But I’m knot—there must bee hundreds of better—”

  “There are not,” Ida said. “You made this possible. You are the woman I want.”

  “I’m knot even dressed,” Wenda protested. Actually she was in the princessly dress Ida had lent her, but that would never do for a wedding. “I wood knot know the first thing about it.”

  Jumper transformed to manform and kissed her. “You will manage, I’m sure.”

  How could she tell them that she would just be a wringing wet blanket? How could she be properly happy for the happy couple, when all she wanted to do was weep for her own misfortune?

  Then she was at Eris’s hidden castle, dressed fetchingly in a forest green gown. Everyone else was there too. Looking around, Wenda saw the Good Magician Humfrey with his Designated Wife Rose of Roogna, the Maidens Taiwan, Japan, and Mexico, Princess Eve with Demon Pluto, Princess Dawn, and King Ivy with her consort Magician Grey Murphy. This was indeed a royal wedding.

  And beside Wenda were Meryl Mermaid and Angela Angel, hovering in fetching white dresses. “Bridesmaids,” Angela explained. Both of them looked genuinely happy. Wenda tried to stifle her jealously, knowing it was unjustified.

  Then she saw Jumper, in manform and in a uniform. “He’s the Best Man,” Angela said. “Hilarion asked for him.”

  “But he’s knot really a man,” Wenda protested weakly. “He’s my best friend, but for an occasion like this—”

  “He’s a prince, and Hilarion’s friend.”

  That did seem to cover it. Wenda realized that it was her own loss that was making her negative about other things. She would have to suppress that, at least for the duration of the wedding.

  She looked at the seated audience, and saw many other people, and a bird. That was Dipper, who had given up his place in the Quest so that Angela could join it. She wondered how he liked it in Heaven. Then she saw that he was perched on the shoulder of a lovely angel. He probably liked it very well.

  There was a brief confusion while things got organized. Wenda went to assist Ida, as that was what a Maid of Honor was for, but Ida’s twin sister King Ivy was already doing it. Wenda felt a bit out of sorts, apart from her private personal misery. She had had a royal wedding herself, when she married Prince Charming, but servants had arranged everything and she had been largely oblivious, transported by the moment. She wanted to be useful, but had little idea how.

  It is a figurehead role, Eris’s thought came. You represent moral support for the bride. All you need to do is stand there, look pretty, and smile.

  She had never before realized how hard it could be to smile! “But I dew knot look pretty,” Wenda said. “I am a hollow woodwife.”

  Not anymore. Your frontside is now decorously covered by your dress, but retains its impact. Covertly observe the male attendees.

  Wenda looked around, pretending a blank gaze. She saw several men’s eyes orienting on her front. Some were glazing.

  I can make your dress become translucent, if you wish, so that your bra shows.

  “No!”

  Just as well. Not only would they freak out, their popped eyeballs would bounce on the floor.

  “But my frontside did knot ever have that kind of power.”

  It does now.

  Wenda realized that when a Demoness made a gift, it was something to be reckoned with. “Thank yew.” What else could she say? If only that compelling appearance could encompass full functionality.

  Wenda, nothing is too good for you. Jumper has made it plain many times that without you, he would never have completed his mission, and would not have discovered me. I owe you everything.

  “But I dew knot want everything, or even anything. I just like yewr company.” In fact she wished she could be alone with the Demoness, and pour out her broken heart to her.

  I know. And I like yours. Eris paused. Oh, I was not looking. Now I see what is bothering you. Wenda, that’s awful! Come, I will take you on a tour before you dissolve into a sodden lump.

  “But the wedding is about to happen.”

  I will put it on Pause. Only the Demon Pluto will notice, and he will not interfere.

  Wenda realized that this was readily within the power of the Demoness. “A tour?”

  Eris took her hand. A distraction, and we can talk.

  Suddenly they were flying up, up, and away, out of the palace and the subterranean enclave. Up into Xanth. Now Eris assumed her human form, a lovely lady garbed as another bridesmaid, still holding Wenda’s hand.

  “This is Xanth,” Eris said, no longer needing to confine herself to mental communication. “A marvelous magic land. And here is Mundania, relatively dull but it does have its points. They are two of a huge loop of worlds connected by Ida’s moon.”

  Somehow the scene had shifted, and they were flying over a spherical planet, rather than the peninsula-shaped world that was Xanth. There above it floated a maturely handsome male figure. “Snooping, Eris?” he inquired.

  “Touring,” Eris answered. “Demon Earth, this is my friend Wenda Woodwife of Xanth. She is a nice person.”

  “Very nice,” he agreed, contemplating Wenda’s frontside.

  “This is the home world of the Demoness Venus,” Eris said, as the scene shifted to a cloud-covered planet.

  “Thank yew for getting the Demon’s eyes off me.”

  “I am long accustomed to avoiding such attention, though normally a Demoness finds it a useful distraction.”

  “I think I wood knot bee a good Demoness.”

  Eris laughed. “And the home of the Demon Pluto.” This was a smaller, colder planet. “Considerably warmer below the surface, where Hades is. I believe Princess Eve is learning to like it.”

  “She wood,” Wenda agreed, remembering how smoldering Eve could be when she tried.

  The Demon Pluto appeared. “Amazing what a blast of petrified wood can do,” he remarked as his gaze fixed on Wenda’s frontside. Obviously he was seeing through the material of the dress.

  “And this is my home world,” Eris said as the scene changed again, leaving Pluto behind. It was a dark cold planet, far away from anything. “You can see why I maintain my alternate residence in Xanth. Jumper prefers it.”

  “Yes.” But Wenda was bothered by something. “Are all males going to bee staring at my frontside?”

  “Yes, when they’re not staring at your backside. But you will get used to it. They are wired to focus on certain things. It is the nature of their gender. Without that fixation, women would not be able to control the violent foolishness of men.”

  There was truth there, but it reminded her of another aspect. “I love Prince Charming, of course,” Wenda said. “And I am glad to please him, any way I can. He really likes my—my front and backside. But sometimes I wish he was interested in more than my—my body.”

  “You wish he were more like Jumper.”

  “Yes!” Then Wenda reconsidered, embarrassed. “That is—”

  “I understand. Jumper is a spider, but he is a more rounded person than most straight human ma
les. You came to know him well, and that spoiled you for ordinary men.”

  “That may bee so,” Wenda agreed. “Sometimes I wish that Charming had other interests than …” She trailed off, not wanting to seem disloyal. After all, Charming had made her a princess, and provided for all her material needs.

  “He needs social rounding,” Eris agreed. “It will not come naturally. He will have to be trained. I am not sure how to arrange that.”

  “Maybe Jumper wood know.”

  “Jumper.” And there he was, floating in space with them, still in his wedding suit. “How can Prince Charming be trained to be interested in more than a woman’s frontside or backside?”

  “Encourage him to cultivate new interests.”

  “What interests, beloved?”

  “Well, children, for example.”

  “He has been trying!” Wenda said, bursting into new tears. “But that will bee slow. First the storks have to bee alerted, and they refuse to bee rushed.” She took a breath, then blurted out the rest of it. “In fact they will knot come at all, for me.”

  Jumper was taken aback. “You can’t get a baby?”

  “She can’t,” Eris said. “She learned at the Good Magician’s Castle. She is devastated.”

  “But Wenda, you care so much for children. You want to adopt every orphan child you see.”

  His sympathy just made her cry harder.

  “So all she has is Prince Charming,” Eris said. “And he pays more attention to her body than to her personality. How can she change that?”

  Jumper considered. “Shortcut it.”

  “I dew knot understand.”

  Jumper faced her seriously. “Wenda, you have a palace, with servants, and a husband who needs new interests. You have an excruciatingly caring nature. But you can’t have children of your own. Your situation is ideal.”

  “For what?” she demanded, tearfully frustrated.

  “For being den mother to a group of orphan children.”

  Astonished, Wenda could not speak. She did like children, and had seen some along the way she had wished she could help. But she had been too busy with the mission. Now she was about to have much more time. Too much time! But if she gathered in some children who needed a home, that would not only fulfill her, it well might get Charming involved. Now her future situation was opening out before her, and she was thrilled.

  “How would she find children?” Eris asked.

  “The Save-a-Tooth Tiger would surely know of a number. You could ask—”

  They were in front of the tiger’s den. The tiger appeared. Wenda opened her mouth.

  “Yes, as it happens I do know of a number of orphans,” the tiger said. “Ones with special needs, or character problems stemming from neglect or abuse, so they are unadoptable. They lose teeth too. It would take a very special person to handle them.” The tiger focused on Wenda with disturbing insight. “And you are that person. Set up your castle, childproof it, warn your husband, and when you are ready I will bring them.”

  “Oh, thank yew!”

  “Thank you. This is a challenging but highly worthy endeavor.”

  They were floating above Eris’s buried palace complex. “There is one more thing I should show you,” the Demoness said. “But it requires a violation of the natural order. For this I must kiss you.”

  “Kiss me?”

  Eris brought her close and kissed her on the mouth. And Wenda was seeing pictures from her future.

  The first orphan child arrived, a baby boy with a club foot. It was a perfectly formed club, serviceable at need for defense, but ordinary folk did not want him. Wenda picked him up and kissed him, and he smiled for the first time since he had been orphaned.

  The second orphan arrived, a blind baby girl. Wenda hugged her and whispered in her ear, and she too smiled for the first time.

  The third arrived. She recognized him: Alex, the boy who could not express emotion. She had met him on Planet Comic, but there had been nothing comical about his condition. “Oh, Alex,” she said, hugging him. “I am going to make you laugh and cry.” And seeing briefly ahead along his timeline, she saw that it was true. She wasn’t sure how she did it, but she did it. Love and commitment constantly applied had impact, even in a case like this. For Alex felt emotions; he merely had been unable to express them.

  Then there was a middling small collection of babies, gazing adoring at Wenda as she read them a story. She did that at the Social Circle, for which she now had ample use. She brought new children there first thing, and they immediately became sociable because of its magic. The odd thing was that they tended to remain that way after leaving it. All the children generally got along well together.

  The Mood Swing, which had started Wenda’s adventure, remained next to the Social Circle. The children, knowing its nature, loved it too. Their moods were highly changeable anyway, and this merely added to the fun. Sometimes they tried to trick a newcomer to swing on it, then laughed gleefully as the mood changed. Thereafter the newcomers liked it too. The children were such good sports.

  Prince Charming, at first diffident, began to get into it. He told a story of adventure and derring-do that pleased the boys and one or two of the girls. Encouraged by that success, he told more stories, and soon it was a regular thing.

  As the children grew older, Charming held classes in martial arts and dragon slaying for the boys and a few of the bolder girls. They loved it. One never knew when one might have to slay a dragon.

  As time continued, Charming filled out emotionally and became the man that Wenda had hoped for. He still liked her front- and backside, but now they could talk about more than bodies or children. “Thank you, Wenda, for fulfilling my life,” he said. “I never knew what I was missing, until you brought the children. You are twice the woman I took you for, and twice what I ever deserved.”

  She just smiled and gave him twice the attention he had ever hoped for. She knew he was not referring merely to her sides.

  As more time passed, the children grew into impressive little princes and princesses. Charming took them on state visits to other kingdoms, and so did Wenda. Sometimes Jumper and Eris’s son visited, and sometimes Hilarion and Ida’s daughter. Sometimes Anima, the daughter of the rejuvenated Bink and Chameleon, whose talent was animating the inanimate. The only apparent difference between them was that Charming and Wenda’s adopted children were more varied and sensitive to the concerns of others. Everybody remarked on it; these children were special, and they did not mean their physical or mental handicaps.

  At last the first orphan, now tall, handsome, and dashing despite his club foot, had to depart to marry his princess. “I owe it all to you, Mother Wenda,” he said. “We all do. You saved us from oblivion. You have the kindest heart we ever knew. We will never forget.” Then he kissed her.

  The kiss ended as Eris drew away. “But you must not tell,” the Demoness said. “Lest I be charged with a Violation. Keep it to yourself, and live your life fulfilled.”

  “I will,” Wenda agreed, dizzy with the revelation of her wonderful future. “Thank yew so much.”

  “It is what a friend is for.”

  They were back at the wedding. “I do,” Princess Ida said. Then King Emeritus Trent made a pronouncement, and Ida kissed Prince Hilarion. This time it did not coruscate, but it was a fine effort regardless. For that moment, Ida’s moon orbited both their heads, seeming satisfied to do so.

  No one had missed Wenda, if she had even been gone, physically.

  There was another brief confusion as the folk organized for the next stage, which involved a giant wedding cake. Ida approached Wenda. “Thank you so much for your support,” she said breathlessly. “I would have been so nervous without you.”

  “Yew are welcome,” Wenda said, blushing, for she knew her support had been more apparent than real. She was glad that Hilarion and Ida had finally found each other, but also glad that she had found herself. Those needy children—she could hardly wait. She knew she wou
ld not be lonely anymore.

  But you will visit me often, and I will visit you, Eris thought.

  Yes, of course. Her secret memory verified it. Friendship counted.

  Author’s Note

  I have written many novels in my day, more than 135. The Xanth series alone now is thirty-four novels, with some corollary games, choose-your-own-ending books by others, a sadly out-of-date Visual Guide to Xanth, and possibly a Xanth movie. In fact this novel is well into the second magic trilogy of three cubed, though it is uncertain whether a trilogy of magic trilogies will ever be completed. That would be eighty-one novels. If I continued to write one novel a year, that would take me until age 121. I rather doubt that’s feasible in Mundania. But there are only four to go to complete the alphabet in Xanth novels, and that might happen.

  I was writing this novel, using the open source Xandros distribution with the OpenOffice word processor, and it was going well, though my time is more limited than it was because my wife’s illness—she had what amounted to heart surgery, and is also being treated for polyneuropathy, which is a deadening of the limbs—caused me to take over many of the household chores, like making meals. Then I was tested for bone density, and to my surprise it indicated that I had lost calcium in my bones and was in danger of a hip fracture. I have lived clean, stayed lean, and exercised vigorously most of my life, but it seems this is a complication of the underactive thyroid gland I do have. So I had the expensive medication Reclast to restore calcium to my bones. I’m on Medicare, and Medicare covers Reclast, but the marvel of bureaucratic obscurities refused to cover it for me unless I first fractured a hip or suffered similarly unpleasant complications. This I was for some reason unwilling to do, so I paid for it myself.

  Some medications have side effects. This one might bring flu-like symptoms. You know about understatements, like “Some assembly required”? Well, I would rather have had the flu. At least it would have been over in a week or so. Those side-effect symptoms wiped me out. I got violent shivers, my sweat soaked my pajamas at night, I lost my strength so that just getting to my feet was a chore, and a tortoise could have kept pace with my walking velocity. My skin got sensitive so that just combing my hair made me react. The best I could do was sleep much of the day. My fever lasted eighteen days, gradually fading.