Man From Mundania

  “You never did,” she agreed ruefully. “I did, when drunk. But this has given us the key. What could your talent be?”

  “Sobering drunk women!” he quipped, laughing, still not quite believing.

  “More than that, I think. You denatured their whole pool!”

  “But if that really is a magic spring, I could no more nullify it all than I could—”

  “Nullify the goblins' hate spring,” she concluded.

  Grey thought about it. “Nullifying magic springs? That couldn't be, because it did make you drunk.”

  “Before you got into it. It didn't make you drunk. Once you applied your will to it—and just now to me—you countered it, instantly. Magically.”

  He nodded. “When I set my will to it. But is it possible that something else changed those springs? Maybe Ivy dehanced that hate spring; I mean, if she can enhance, maybe—”

  “Ivy wasn't here for the wine spring,” she reminded him. “And don't accuse me of doing it! I have no talent; my magic is in my nature, changing between my component species. Maybe some day the nada will develop talents, as the centaurs did. No, you did it. Grey. Your talent must be making magic springs harmless.”

  “But I'm Mundane! How could I have a, talent?”

  She shook her head. “I don't know. Grey. But considering what the Muse said and what happened here, I'm pretty sure you do. And that means—”

  “I can marry Ivy!” he exclaimed jubilantly.

  “Yes. If Queen Irene thought this was a good way of denying you without actually saying no, she made a mistake, because now she can't say no!”

  “All we have to do is escape the Wild Women and get together with Ivy and Electra, and everything's okay,” he said, a trifle ruefully. He knew they weren't safe yet.

  Indeed, a Maenad was coming toward them. The Wild Women knew where they were but had been too dazed by the loss of their wine to organize.

  “I can change form and slide through the thicket,” Nada said. “But I wouldn't leave you here alone.”

  “That one coming here doesn't look wild anymore,” he said. “Maybe they're tame when not drunk.”

  “Tame Maenads could cost you your marriage, too,” she said, squinting at the woman's perfect proportions.

  “Maybe I can climb a tree, and you can go for help.”

  “Wild Women can climb.”

  “Let's just see what she wants. Maybe it's not an ultimatum,” he said without much confidence.

  The Maenad came close. “Magician!” she called. Her speech was clear, now that she was sober.

  Grey was too surprised to speak, but Nada took over.

  “What do you want with the Magician?”

  “I'm no—” Grey started, but she elbowed him in the belly.

  “We did not know your nature when we pursued you,” the Maenad said. “We apologize, and beg you to restore our wine spring. We will do anything you desire.”

  “The Magician has all he desires,” Nada said, her elbow poised to jab him again if he protested. Grey kept his mouth shut.

  The Wild Woman looked at Nada's bare form appraisingly. “Indeed we can see that, serpent-woman. But if there is anything else he desires—food, an honor guard, servants—”

  Nada considered. “The Magician was only visiting Parnassus. He has no need of your services. I will try to prevail on him to restore your wine spring, but I can not guarantee success. The best I can promise is that if you do not annoy him further, he will not do anything worse to you. If he is so inclined, he may see to your pool.”

  The woman fell to her knees. “Oh, thank you, thank you! We are but shadows without our wine! We would be unable to fight the Python.”

  Nada nodded. “The Python. Is he near?”

  “He was following us up the path before we caught your scent. He must have taken the other fork, for there was the scent of live girls there.”

  Both Grey and Nada jumped. The dread Python—going after Ivy and Electra?

  “We must be on our way,” Nada said. She turned her face to Grey. “Magician, if you will at least consider their wine spring—”

  Grey was uneasy about this deception, but realized that she was trying to get them out of this without having to fight. “Very well, serpent-girl,” he said gruffly.

  They drew themselves out of the tangled brush and followed the unwild woman back to the spring. “Understand, if the Magician restores your wine, and you then get drunk and wild and become troublesome to him, I can not be responsible for his temper,” Nada warned them.

  “We will stay far away from him!” the women promised in chorus.

  Grey stepped up to the spring. If he really had denatured it, then he should be able to restore it. If he had not been the one responsible for what had happened, then he hoped that whatever was responsible would play along.

  How should he go about this? Well, if it had been his will that did it to this pool and the hate spring, maybe his will could restore it. So he concentrated on the water, which was now quite clear. He willed for it to be restored, and for the pale rose color to return, since that was evidently the signal of its potency. Be wine again!

  Was there a flicker of something? He squatted and touched the water with one finger, willing the color to intensify.

  Immediately the water turned a rich red.

  Alarmed, he straightened up and stepped back. What had he done? That was too much color!

  A Maenad scooped up a palmful of water and sipped it.

  Her eyes went round. “Blood!” she exclaimed.

  Oops! Grey looked at Nada with dismay.

  “Blood?” another Wild Woman asked. Then several more scooped up sips. “Blood!” they agreed. “Bloodflavored wine!”

  Grey edged back. If they could get a running start—

  “Oh thank you, Magician!”' the Maenad spokesnymph exclaimed. “This is so much better than before! Now we can satisfy both our thirsts at once!”

  “Quite all right,” he said benignly. Then Nada took his arm, and they walked back down the path.

  The Maenads, jubilant, clustered around the pool, guzzling the water as if there were no tomorrow. They paid no further attention, to the two visitors.

  Grey was almost floating, not because of their escape but because of this vindication of his magic. He had tried to turn the pool pink, and when that was slow he had tried for full red—and with his touch it had gone all the way!

  No one else could have known what he was thinking, so it had to have been his own effort. His own magic. He did have magic!

  But the riddle remained: how could he have a magic talent when he was Mundane? Everyone agreed that no Mundane had magic. Could everyone be wrong?

  “We had better get back to Ivy and Electra,” Nada said. “I don't like the sound of that Python going after them!”

  The Python! Grey was tired, but that abruptly passed.

  “I'll run! You get small and get into my pocket! We've got to get there as fast as we can!”

  “Right you are. Magician!” she agreed with a wan smile. She held his hand, leaned over his arm (oh, that body)!, and became a snake spread across his hand and forearm. He lifted her to the breast pocket. Then he began to run.

  He had no idea what he would do if he encountered the Python. He just knew he had to get there before Ivy did.

  Then, abruptly, he stopped. How could he be sure of finding Ivy and Electra quickly? He had only a vague notion of the layout of this mountain and its bypaths, and Nada had no better knowledge. They could blunder about for hours while the Python caught and gobbled the girls!

  Nada's snake head poked out of his pocket, questioningly. “We need a guide,” he said. “Someone who knows every wrinkle of this mountain, so we can go directly to the most likely place, and get around the Python if we have to.”

  The snake head nodded, but without full conviction. He knew why: where could they get such a guide on such short notice?

  The answer was obvious: one of the Maenads.
r />   Grey turned about and marched back to the blood-wine spring. “Ahem.”

  The clustered Maenads jumped. “Oh, Magician, don't change your mind!” the spokesnymph cried. “We have done nothing more to annoy you!”

  “I want a guide,” Grey said. “Someone who knows this mountain perfectly.”

  “We all know it, Magician! If this is your demand, we must accede. Choose one of us to serve.” And the Maenads lined up, setting their jaws, each obviously hoping he would not choose her.

  This was no good! He needed a willing one, who would do her honest best. “Ah, er, a volunteer. Someone who wants to do it, to help me find my friends.”

  They burst into cruel laughter. “Magician, none of us want to help anyone! We are wild, bloodthirsty women! We are tame only for the brief time it takes to lure an unwary man close enough for the pounce, when he takes us for succubi.” There was more laughter; they found such an error hilarious.

  This wasn't getting anywhere. If he pushed his luck, they might forget their fear of him, and that could be awkward. But he still needed that guide.

  “Well, er, maybe if one of you can pretend to be tame for this one task, in return for an, er, reward.” He didn't know what reward he could sincerely offer, but was sure that none of them would do it unless either threatened or rewarded generously.

  “Help someone for hours?” the spokesnymph demanded. “Impossible!”

  But one Maenad came forward. “I—I might.”

  The spokesnymph shot her a withering glance. “That's right, Mae! You're always the last to rip out a gobbet of flesh. It's almost as if you don't really like hurting folk!”

  “That's a lie!” Mae cried fiercely. But her attitude suggested that it wasn't. It seemed there were misfits even among the Wild Women.

  “Very well,” Grey said briskly. “Come along, Mae. Can you smell the trail of a normal woman?”

  “Yes, very well,” Mae agreed.

  “Then sniff out the trail of the two young women who were with us before. We want to reach them before the Python does.”

  “They took the other fork,” Mae said. She set off at a run, her bare bottom twinkling.

  Grey watched for a moment. Then the snake wriggled in his pocket, reminding him that he was not here to watch twinkling bottoms. Embarrassed, he lurched into his own run, following Mae.

  Chapter 11

  Python

  Ivy hated to see Grey go, but the Maenads were coming and there was no time to argue. She saw him collide with Nada, and Nada changed into her snake form and disappeared, apparently hanging onto him. Well, at least he would have competent help? She dreaded what would happen to him alone.

  Electra was already running up the path, her walking stick jumping. Ivy enhanced her own stick, and it practically propelled her along the same route. If only their party hadn't gotten divided, maybe they all could have hidden!

  It worked: the Wild Women went charging up the other fork, attracted by Grey's foolish yelling. But now what was he going to do? He didn't have the first notion about survival in Xanth!

  She remembered the magic mirror. But she had assumed that she would be in the middle of whatever trouble occurred. If she used it, she would have to explain that the one in trouble was somewhere else, and by the time help got there, it might well be too late. Oh, what an awful pass this was!

  “Nada will help him!” Electra said, divining Ivy's concern. “She can become a pretty big serpent and hold them off. And Grey—there's something about him.”

  “I had noticed,” Ivy said, smiling briefly. Electra was right: Grey had gotten through some phenomenal scrapes, such as with the goblins, despite his ignorance of magic.

  “And he has a talent!”

  Ivy paused. “What?”

  “The Muse—she said she couldn't tell us about his talent, but it wouldn't be long before we knew. That means he does have one!”

  Ivy was amazed. “Why—so she did! But what could it be?”

  “Maybe something he needs right now, 'cause she didn't say he was going to be in real trouble. Maybe he can make Wild Women fall in love with him—”

  “That's very reassuring,” Ivy said sourly.

  Electra was embarrassed. “I mean, maybe, that is, he would not love them—who would love a Maenad?—but if they—well, maybe something else, like turning into a dragon.”

  “Maybe.” Ivy felt light-headed, thinking about the prospect of a talent for Grey. That meant they could marry!

  They stopped climbing, as it was obvious that the Maenads were not coming this way. Grey's ploy had worked, but now it was hard to know what to do. If they went back too soon they might run into the Maenads, but if they waited too long and Grey needed help—oh, this was awful!

  Then their problem was solved, in a worse way. They heard a quiet rustling down the trail. Something was coming up, and it didn't sound like Grey.

  In a moment the huge head of a monstrous serpent rounded a turn. It was the Python!

  “Run!” Ivy cried.

  But the great baleful eyes of the creature caught them both before they could act. They stood transfixed, unable to move or even to speak.

  The head was so big that the jaws could take in either one of them without difficulty. The sinuous body was obviously able to digest them. They were this serpent's prey!

  “Aaaah, young women!” the Python hissed, seeming to speak. “My favorite repast! But first you must worship me. Bow down before me, grovel low, humble yourselves before the horrendous maleness I am!”

  This was awful! But somehow the infinite menace of the Python was mitigated by an almost infinite appeal. She was terrified, yet a part of her also desired to be consumed by this monster. Thus it was not merely the magic mesmerism of the reptilian gaze that held her; it was the weakening of her will to resist. What a horror, to know what was to happen yet not want to fight it!

  “Down!” the Python hissed. “Bow down, tasty morsels! I require my homage before I feed!”

  Dutifully they got down, still held by that sinister gaze.

  But Electra was a little ahead of Ivy, and her body momentarily interfered with Ivy's line of sight to the eye of the Python.

  Suddenly she was free of the awful compulsion. Now she was revolted. How could she ever have desired any part of that disgusting reptile?

  But Electra was still under the spell. Ivy scrambled forward, shielding her eyes against the gaze, and threw her body down before the girl's face, interrupting her line of sight too. The Python was like a hypnogourd, completely captivating those who met his gaze but losing power the moment the contact was broken.

  But it was too late. The gigantic jaws were hinging open, and in a moment one or both of them would be snapped up. The Python did not need to mesmerize them the whole time, only long enough for him to get within striking range. He was within it now.

  “Shock him!” Ivy whispered, putting her hand on Electra's arm. “I'll Enhance you!”

  The head plunged down, the daggerlike teeth leading.

  Both girls rolled to the side, and the jaws snapped closed just beside them. “Now!” Ivy cried, hanging onto Electra's arm.

  Electra flung her free arm across and smote the Python on the side of his massive snout. The blow itself was laughable; she might as well have struck the trunk of a tree. But it was charged with all the electric power of her magic talent—enhanced by Ivy's own talent.

  There was a jolt so strong that even its backlash stunned Ivy for a moment. The Python stiffened, then collapsed, his head drooping to the path beside them, his latter coils writhing without direction. Electra's shock had knocked him out.

  Ivy sat up, her senses reeling. She discovered she didn't really like such close calls. “Come on, 'Lectra—we've got to get away before he recovers.”

  Indeed, the head was showing signs of animation. The monster was so big and tough that even that terrible shock was enough to set him back only briefly. Ivy thought fleetingly of trying to bash the Python with a ston
e, but realized that her strength, even if she Enhanced it, would barely be enough to dent the giant skull. It was safer to flee.

  They got up, wobbly on their feet. The path below was blocked by the thrashing length of the reptile; they would have to go back up. But soon he would follow them, and this time they would not be able to shock it, for Electra was depleted. She was no Sorceress; she could not exercise her talent twice in one day. Ivy herself had no limit, but what point would there be in enhancing the Python? That would only make him worse!

  “We can't outrun him!” Electra gasped. “We'll never make it to the top!” Ivy had to agree. “We must find a safe way off the path, where he can't follow or at least will be too slow to catch us.” She did not voice her private doubts about their ability to find any such way.

  They stumbled on, holding hands so that Ivy could enhance Electra's stamina. And there, beside a nettlebush, was a contorted little path departing from the main one.

  They had not noticed it before.

  “But the nettle!” Electra protested. “It will hurt us!”

  “Let me at it,” Ivy said. She stood before the bush, thinking how pretty it was, and how decorative its spines were, more bluff than substance, and how such bushes never did really sting nice girls, only mean serpents. The bush became prettier, its sharp edges softening. She touched a leaf, cautiously, and it did not sting her.

  She brushed by the bush, and Electra followed, trusting Ivy's talent. The nettle did not sting her either.

  Then Ivy addressed the bush again, silently. Now she concentrated exclusively on its detestation of all things reptilian, especially monstrous Pythons. It would sting any such creature viciously!

  They walked on down the path, no longer feeling the urgency of panic, but not delaying either. They needed to get somewhere safe before the Python found a way to get past the bush.

  The path was evidently little used, but Ivy sensed some enchantment on it. She enhanced this, and the path became clearer, with some protective magic. Someone must have used it regularly, once, to visit the Muses.

  “Who else lives on Parnassus?” Ivy asked. It was something she knew she ordinarily could remember, but in her present state she couldn't recall all the details.