Xone of Contention
The boat slapped a webbed loot against the ground in acknowledgment.
"I wish you could talk." he said. "I'd like to know your history."
"You could play Nineteen Questions," Breanna said. "Tell him to tap once for yes. two for no, three for uncertainty."
"Say, yes," he agreed. "Okay, Para: would you like to tell us your personal history?"
A foot slapped once.
"Were you born or made? Oops, wrong phrasing. Were you born?"
"Wrong question," Breanna said. "Folk don't get born in Xanth, that's a clumsy, messy Mundanian custom. They get delivered by the stork."
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Okay, Para: were you delivered?"
One slap, which he heard as Yes.
"So no one made you?"
Yes. There was a moment of confusion as they established that the answer was literal: no one had made the craft, because it had been delivered by a stork.
"This is getting interesting." Breanna said. "Who could be the parents of a boat with ten pairs of duck feet1'"
Edsel zeroed in on the answer. "Was your mother a duck?" Edsel asked.
Two loot slaps. No.
He tried other creatures, hut none was right.
Breanna got a notion. "A boat! Was your mother a boat?"
Yes.
They considered. It seemed unlikely to be an ordinary boat. What kind of boat could signal the stork?
"A dream boat?" Breanna said, a bulb flashing over her head.
Yes.
"Was your father a duck?" Three slaps, signifying uncertainty. "Uncertain because you don't know?
No.
"Because it's not exactly a duck?"
Yes.
They tried variations of ducks, and finally Edsel got it: "A quack. Your father was a quack."
Yes. It turned out that the two had blundered onto a love spring, tricked there by Anemone, which was a water creature with a bad attitude — an enemy, in fact. They desperately signaled the stork about ten times before they managed to get clear of that potent water. The stork works had pondered the order for some months, and finally compromised by delivering one boat with ten pairs of duck feet. By that time the quack was long gone, but the dream boat remained, and she showed Para the ways of the water. But he had to learn the way of the land himself, and that was chancy.
Now they wanted to know how Para had come to be associated with the two docks, where Breanna had first encountered him. This was hard to zero in on, but they were making progress — when Justin and Pia returned.
"I'm almost disappointed." Breanna murmured, smiling. She had a very, white smile in the subdued light of the illusion castle.
"There'll be other occasions," Edsel said. Then they focused on the others. The four stood beside the boat, catching up. The two who had gone underground seemed oddly animated, as if they had had some transcendent experience.
"We have discovered a tree," Justin said. "The Coventree. This region is safe for us."
"A tree?” Edsel asked, wondering if he had missed the punch line.
"But, we've just got to help that tree." Pia said. "It's getting drowned out. and so are its friends."
"But we can't take time to get involved in forestry," Breanna protested. "We have to get Edsel and Pia safely back to the O-Xone "
"I think not," Justin said. Breanna spluttered. "But—" Justin turned to his companion. "Pia?"
Pia turned to Edsel "I would be so grateful for your support. So very, very grateful."
She never spoke like that unless she really wanted something, and not only could she make him extraordinarily glad to cooperate, she could make him phenomenally unhappy when he did not. "You have it.” he said immediately. He didn't need to know what he was committing himself to, just that heaven was better than hell.
"Thank you," she said, and hugged and kissed him. She had her sixteen year old body back, and it put images of squadrons of storks into his fevered imagination. She would make good on the implication, too, when the opportunity came. She always did. The fact was, he loved being wound around her little finger.
"Since they are determined to resolve this matter," Justin was saying, "we are obliged to assist them in whatever way we are able."
"Have you been enchanted?" Breanna asked suspiciously. "What happened down there?"
"We'll show you," Pia said. "Come, you must meet the Coven-tree."
Breanna shot a desperate glance at Edsel, but he was lost. He could argue with Pia, he could exchange insults with her. he could be mad at her, but he could not oppose her when she used her sex appeal to win her way. He knew this did not mean that she would remain married to him, but for the duration of his cooperation in her design, she would be his loving girlfriend. That might be the best he could get, and he was incapable of refusing it.
"I guess we have to do it," Breanna said, clearly not entirely pleased Justin embraced her and kissed her. and pinched her bottom "Justin!" she said, astonished. "You got fresh!"
"Something I learned from Pia." he said, looking apprehensive.
"You learned from—what were you two doing down there?!"
"He told me that you surprised him." Pia said evenly "I told him how to surprise you in turn."
"Oh " The girl reconsidered, perhaps remembering the business of holding hands. Then she turned back to Justin. "Okay. Do it again Edsel had to laugh. Pia had made quite an impression on those two, first getting Breanna to lead Justin into something, then getting him to initiate something. Physical romance was a process Pia knew volumes about. The Xanthly Adult Conspiracy would never be the same.
Then Justin and Pia led the way down into the nether section. Para followed them, his duck feet handling the steps well enough. Edsel hesitated, then drew the lid down, closing them in: it now seemed safer than advertising where they had gone.
"First the tour," Pia said. "I know you're tired, and we'll rest soon, but this is important."
Actually Edsel wasn't tired, because he had been riding in the boat and then sitting and talking with Breanna. He was curious to know what had gotten Pia so excited and commuted.
It was a showing of six museum-style pictures or settings. Illusion paintings, Justin explained. Two were of snowy mountains, and four were of a pleasant wooded valley.
They completed the circuit. They were back at the stairway. "That's it?" Breanna asked. Edsel felt much the same. So there were six somewhat repetitive pictures, so what?
"The snows are melting," Pia said. "The valley is flooding." Edsel exchanged a glance with Breanna. This time he did the honors.
"So?"
"So the runoff from the mountains is flooding the valley," Pia said. "The roots of the trees are drowning, and so the trees are dying."
Edsel shrugged. "It happens. What's your point?"
"Those are good trees. It's not right just to let them die, when we can maybe do something to save them."
"Since when were you ever an environmentalist?"
Instead of retorting with a cutting remark. Pia paused to consider. "Since I met the Coventree "
"Is this a magic tree? Did it enchant you?"
Pia considered again. "I don't think it enchanted me. But if it did, I'm glad of it. I feel—as if I've fallen in love. With a mission."
This was strong medicine, but not necessarily bad. Pia had never before been dedicated to anything other than her comfort of the moment.
"Then maybe we had better meet the Coventree," Breanna said.
"Coming up." Pia led the way into the last picture.
Edsel and Breanna stared. "Oh. that's right," Edsel said after a moment. "You can pass through illusion."
It turned out to be an awkward route, especially for the duck footed boat. They went through a hole in the side wall, down a small tunnel, into a larger cross tunnel, through a puddle of bilge-water, and into a large central cave where squat square columns abounded.
"This is the Coventree," Pia said. "Or rather, its root system. We can camp safely here for the n
ight."
"But we saw no big tree above," Breanna protested.
"Illusion can conceal as well as appear." Justin reminded her.
"So what do we do," Edsel asked. "Can we talk to it?"
"No. this just proves how it is getting flooded out. That water in the passage will rise, unless we stop the mountain melt."
"You mean those pictures are of this area?" Breanna asked. "Or the valley part of it?"
"Yes." Justin said. "They illustrate the problem."
"And we're supposed to somehow stop nature?" Edsel asked.
"Stop the melting in the mountains," Pia said patiently "That will stop the slow flooding, and save the trees."
He found this hard to believe. "And for this, you will give me—?" She stepped into him, very soft and exciting. "Yes."
"Then bring on the mountains," he said.
They found nooks, spread out the blankets, and settled down for the night. Pia joined Edsel, and if she had ever been more desirable or ardent, he could not remember when. All this, to save some trees? He had to be missing something. But meanwhile, he had a piece of heaven.
In the morning, by his watch—the fungus light down here was unchanged—they stirred and got organized. They ate more pies for breakfast and prepared to set out on their new mission.
Overnight, perhaps in his dreams, Edsel had pondered the flooding problem. Evidently it was a chronic thing, not merely seasonal. Mountain glaciers normally melted some in summer and re-froze in winter, staying in balance. Only a larger pattern of heating, a climate change, could make them melt continuously. What was causing that?
Pia had brought him into this, but now he was getting into it in his own fashion, as a challenge. He liked solving mysteries, and perhaps this was a worthy one.
Justin went to touch one of the square roots. "We will try to address the problem," he told it. "We will do our best."
Pia went to another root. "We really will," she said. Then she leaned forward and kissed its rough bark.
The faint glow around the cave brightened. Whether that was in response to the promise or the kiss Edsel wasn't sure: both were surely potent.
They turned to the exit passage—and there across it was an illusion picture. It showed the valley, with no lakes or ponds, the sun shining brightly The Coventree understood their mission, and was acknowledging in its fashion. Edsel realized that the tree could not respond in animate fashion, but could at least make pictures, which it probably had to grow in the course of hours. It must have been working on this one overnight.
They walked through it, suffering no blindness, as this illusion was paper thin. Beyond it was another. This one was a map, showing the local lay of the land, and the placement of the snowy mountains. Now they knew exactly where to go.
They made their way out through the passages and illusions, and emerged to the daylight above. The castle was gone; the region was flat. With one significant exception: there was the Coventree, rising above the region where they had seen its great central root. It was a huge tree, larger than Edsel had ever seen before, stretching toward the clouds. The illusion castle must have been formed around it. concealing it at night. But by day, freed of its protective illusion, it stood out in all its grandeur. It would indeed be a shame to let such a tree die.
They got in Para, and the boat set off. Justin and Pia rode in front, eager to see the way ahead, leaving Edsel and Breanna to the rear. "So did she do you last night?" Breanna inquired.
"Am I allowed to answer without violating the Adult Conspiracy?" She laughed.
"That's answer enough. You know, I can see how Justin would relate to the welfare of trees, and I don't blame him at all But Pia surprises me, I never figured her for the type."
"She surprises me too," he admitted. "I love her, but she has always been self-centered. I don't see any way in which this intermission can profit her personally,"
"This what?"
"Intermission. A mission inside a larger mission " She considered that.
"Quest."
"What?"
"It's a quest rather than a mission. More éclat."
"Quest," he agreed, liking the concept. "But not her type. It there were the promise of a bag of pretty gemstones at the end, I could see it. But just to save some trees: She never cared about trees before."
"There must be a reason."
"There must be," he agreed. They had speculated about enchantment, but it didn't seem to fit.
A shape flew out of the background. It was large, and somewhat clumsy. "Beware," Breanna said. "That's a harpy."
"Have no concern," Justin called back. “That's Handi. I know her. She's clean and intelligent."
"Trees get to know many flying creatures," Breanna said. "I suppose I shouldn't be jealous."
The harpy had the wings and talons of a buzzard, and the head and breasts of a woman. Edsel had understood that they were always ugly, but this one wasn't.
"What is the nature of your quest?" she called. Her voice was not a screech, either.
"Hello, Handi." Justin called. "Come and perch for a bit."
The harpy was surprised. "You know me?" She hovered doubtfully.
"And you know me," Justin said. "I'm Justin Tree, in manform."
"Justin!" she cried. "That is your voice." She came in to perch on the side of the boat. "But what are you doing with three Mundanes?"
"Two and a half Mundanes," Breanna said, nettled. "I'm a permanent Xanth resident. Breanna of the Black Wave. And Justin's my man."
Handi turned to eye her. "Well, he used to be my tree. He had the nicest foliage. I would perch on his firm warm branch and we discussed nature."
"We are going to the mountains to find out why the snow is melting," Justin said.
"That's important?"
"The melt-water is drowning out the Coventree."
Handi nodded. "That's important. That's the finest tree in all these parts." She preened a feather "Well, I must be off." She spread her wings and lifted into the air.
Breanna watched her go. "Was I too bleepy?" she asked.
"Not at all." Edsel reassured her "You hardly spoke."
"I hate being jealous. But the thought of Justin talking about nature with bare breasted birds just drives me crazy."
"She docs have nice—" He caught himself "Completely understandable. But how could a man have any future with a creature with no human legs?"
She considered. "I never thought of that. He really couldn't, well, whatever. I don't have to be jealous of harpies at all,"
He spied another creature. It might be a dragon, but it wasn't threatening them. "What's that?"
She looked. "Oh. that's a firedrake. They have iron lungs." That made sense, he realized.
The level floor of the valley tilted, providing some leverage so the river could rise toward the distant mountain range. Edsel had never been much for watching scenery, but there wasn't much else to do. Justin and Pia were chatting amiably at the other end of the boat; they seemed to be really hitting it off, after their exploration of the underground gallery. Edsel hardly minded talking with Breanna; she was cute and vivacious. But there was absolutely no prospect of a romantic association there, and he had never had much to do with girls who were not romantic prospects. So he was stuck with the scenery. Fortunately it was varied and interesting.
They passed a woman who was working in a vineyard. But the vines were odd. They seemed to have eyeballs. "What are those?" he inquired. Breanna looked. "I think they are eye-queue vines. Put one on your head, and it makes you smart."
"Really?" he asked, amazed.
"Well, I'm not sure. Maybe they only make you think you're smart. I'll find out." She waved to the woman. "Hi! I'm Breanna of the Black Wave, my talent is seeing in blackness, and I have a question." The duck-footed boat obligingly drew to a halt so she could have the dialogue.
"You wish to know whether these vines provide the illusion or the reality of high intelligence," the woman said.
"
Thai's right! How did you know?"
"Because I am Jeanie Yus, and long association with the eye queue has made me quite intelligent. In fact, that's my talent."
"Intelligence, or cultivating vines?" Edsel asked.
"Yes. And you are evidently a lascivious Mundane."
"Only when looking at lovely women," he said. Actually Jeanie looked smart rather than pretty, but he was a fair hand at dialogue with women.
She nodded. "False flattery can indeed be charming. The answer to your original question is that the effect of these vines varies with the person. They do enhance the appearance of intelligence, but only in restricted ways relating to observation of details rather than substance, obscure vocabulary rather than effective communication, spot memorization of numbers backwards, superficial analysis of pictures, general information of a selected cultural nature, and trick questions. But not only do they make those who use them think they are more intelligent than they are, they also make school administrators think so."
"They have schools in Xanth?" Edsel asked
"Indubitably. We have a fine school of fish right here in the Melt River."
Breanna was interested. "What effect would such a vine have on someone like me?"
"They tend not to greatly enhance the seeming strengths of folk like you," Jeanie said "On a basis of one hundred, they would make you seem like eighty five."
"But how can they do that?" she asked, annoyed. "They relate only to the qualities to which they are crafted to relate. They ignore all others, such a creativity, artistic ability, musical sensitivity, special qualities of character like integrity or compassion or perseverance, or specialized knowledge in diverse areas. They assume that intelligence is an entity represented by a single figure, and that that figure is the only relevant one."
"But why would they assume that?" Breanna asked.
”Because if they did not. their prophecy would not be properly self fulfilling."
"I don't understand."
"Naturally not," Jeanie said with a superior attitude. Breanna seemed about to jump out of the boat to tackle Jeanie. Edsel grabbed her, getting a faceful of her lustrous black hair. "Para!" he cried. "Get your feel moving."
The boat lurched forward, carrying them away from the vineyard. He hung on to the struggling girl until she relaxed. Then he released her, aware that his embrace could be misinterpreted. Justin and Pia were looking back in surprise, but then returned to their dialogue.