Piers Anthony - Xanth 27 - Cube Route

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2024-12-19 0 0 826.47KB 303 页 5.9玖币
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CUBE Route
Piers Anthony
Xanth 27
Chapter 1
Rear View
Looking back, as was natural in the circumstance, Cube concluded that
it all started with the rear-view mirror. What a complicated route, from such a
minor trigger.
She was out picking bubble gum from the bubble gum tree beyond the hay
field when there was a swirl of smoke beside her. "What are you doing?" the
smoke inquired.
Startled, Cube gazed at it. "Talking smoke?"
"That doesn't exactly answer my incertitude," the smoke said, forming a set
of eyes.
"Your what?"
"Dubiousness, skepticism, suspicion, mistrust, uncertainty--"
"Question?"
"Whatever," the smoke agreed crossly.
"I don't see why I should answer you if I can't see you," Cube said. "Are you
a refugee from the smoking section?"
The smoke formed a mouth. "Ha. Ha. Ha," it said. "Very funny. Not. Don't
you recognize a lovely demoness when you see one?"
"A demon!" Cube sidled nervously away from the smoke. "I never did
anything to you. Why are you harassing me?"
"Because that's what demons do." A head formed around the eyes and
mouth, framed by smoky hair. "Demoness Metria, not at your ritual."
"Not at my what?"
"Observance, rite, liturgy, ceremony--"
"Service?"
"Whatever! So who are you?"
"I'm called Cube."
"Cube! What kind of a stupid name is that?"
"It's not my name."
The hair spread out and formed a question mark. "You just said it was."
"I said I was called that. I didn't say it was my name."
The smoky features swirled a moment, then coalesced back into the face,
which was now pretty in a dusky way. "Score one for you, drab mortal. So
whatis your name?"
"Cue. But when other kids saw me, they nicknamed me Cube, because I'm
just not with it. I tried to pry it off, but that nickname stuck fast."
"They do," Metria agreed. "That's part of the curse of being human. Now
answer my first question and I'll give you something."
Cube decided that she should do that, before the demoness got angry and
did her some harm. "I was just picking bubble gum for the boys."
"What use have you for boys?" the demoness asked.
"I like them. But they don't like me."
The smoke formed a vaguely human female body below the head. "Of
course they don't! Look at you."
"No thanks. I know I'm not pretty."
"That's the understatement of the hour. You give plain a bad name.
Whatever made you suppose that any boy anywhere would ever be interested
in you?"
"Well, I do have a certain quality of character."
"Like what?"
"Gumption."
"What?"
"Initiative, courage, aggressiveness, resourcefulness, common sense--"
"Guts?"
"Whatever," Cube agreed, frowning. "I've got gumption galore, but that
doesn't seem to be what boys want."
"Naturally not. Boys can see, not think. They don't much notice character."
"So I have learned. But I thought that maybe if I got them something nice,
like fresh bubble gum, they might let me hang around, and maybe get to know
me."
"Not without a better appearance. Look at this." A dusky hand extended
toward her, holding something. "Use the mirror. It is my promised gift."
Cube took the mirror and held it up before her. But it did not show her
homely face. It showed an unsightly posterior in a dull skirt. "It's not working."
"Yes it is. It's a rear-view mirror."
"Rear-view mirror?"
"It shows your rear, idiot."
"Ugh! That's worse than my face. Take it back." She pushed the mirror
toward the demoness.
"Nuh-uh! That gift can only be given, not taken back."
"I don't regard it as a gift. I don't want it."
But the smoke was fading, and in half a moment it was gone. She was
stuck with the mirror.
She set it on the ground and turned away. And found it back in her hand.
She threw it at the trunk of the gum tree, but it returned to her hand before
striking the tree. She tried to smash it against a stone, but it shied away.
"!!!!" she swore, absolutely disgusted. At age twenty she was old enough to
use an ugly word if so motivated. The demoness had succeeded in making a
dull day into a bad one. That must have been why D. Metria had bugged her
in the first place: to get her to accept the mirror.
She looked at the next tree, which bore pretty colored gum drops. She was
half tempted to eat some of those, but they would just make her teeth drop out
of her gums. That would make it difficult to chew.
She jammed the mirror into a pocket and headed for home, disgruntled.
Maybe she could find someone else to give it to, someone with a prettier rear
than her own.
That reminded her of her condition. "I wish I were beautiful!" she exclaimed.
"Then I could nab a good man and settle down and have a nice family. Or
something."
The demoness reappeared. It seemed she hadn't gone far when she faded
out. "Ha. Ha. Ha!" she laughed in a carefully measured cadence.
"What's so funny?"
"You think pulchritude would solve your dreary life?"
"What?"
"Beauty," the demoness said crossly. "Whatever."
"Do you have a problem with vocabulary?"
"However did you guess?"
"Sometimes I get lucky, if the subject isn't men."
"Answer the question."
"Yes, beauty would transform my existence. Pretty girls have great lives,
even if they have no perceptible minds. Everybody knows that."
Metria's form firmed into sheer loveliness. "Like this?"
"Yes!"
"You're wrong."
"How would you know? You're a demoness. You can assume any form you
wish. You can stun any village lout with your beauty."
At that point a village lout appeared, walking down the path toward the gum
trees. Metria turned toward him, opened her blouse, and inhaled. The lout fell
stunned, blindly smirking at the sky. "True. But who wants a lout?"
"You could do it to a good man too."
"Yes. I did. I'm married."
"So you see. That's what I want to do. Then I'd be happy."
"Maybe. Lovely women traditionally make poor choices in men."
"I wouldn't. I'd choose a good one to stun. Because I have as much
character as I don't have body." Then reality crashed in on her. "But what's
the use? I'll never be beautiful, so I'll never nab a man."
"If that's what you want, why don't you do something about it?"
"What can I do about it?" Cube demanded. "I am the way I am."
"You can go see the Good Magician Humfrey, dummy, and ask him how to
get beautiful."
Cube stood still for a good three quarters of a moment. "I never thought of
that!"
"That's why you're a dummy."
Cube realized that in time, without a whole lot of effort, she could get
annoyed at the demoness. But it was a good idea. "I'll do it."
"Of course he'll charge you a year's service, or the equivalent."
"I know that," Cube said, annoyed.
"And his Answer will be confusing, so you won't properly understand it until
it's too late."
"I know that too. But his answers are always true."
"Also obvious in retrospect, making you feel even more like a dummy." The
demoness faded out again.
It was true. But what other choice did she have? If there was any barely
possible, remotely conceivable, faintest shadow of an obscure hint of half a
chance that she could become even marginally pretty if you liked that type,
she had to try for it. What was gumption for, if not to do something brave and
foolish? Thus was her decision made.
"Ha. Ha. Ha," the voice of the demoness came, with just a wisp of swirling
smoke.
Cube frowned. She hadn't even voiced her decision, but the infernal
demoness knew. Still, she felt buoyed, because now at last she was setting
out to do something about her plight. Even if the Good Magician couldn't tell
her how to become beautiful, she would know she had done her best.
And if, just maybe, somehow, there was a way--what a change that would
make in her life!
"That's what yooo think," the singsong voice of the demoness came.
"Oh, go soak your face."
"If you insist." There was a sound of sloshing water. "Glub. Glub. Glub."
Cube had to smile. Metria was some character.
"Thank you."
Cube ignored her. The demoness had to be guessing at her thoughts.
"No, your smile gave you away."
Oh.
The demoness reappeared, evidently about to speak some other incidental
mischief. Her feet touched the ground.
"Hay!"
Metria jumped and puffed into smoke. "Who called?"
Cube laughed. "You touched the hay field. It always gets your attention, the
first time."
"Bother!" the demoness said crossly, and faded. Cube was glad to have
seen her get fouled up, for once, instead of doing the fouling.
"At least you didn't land on the romants hill," Cube said to the space Metria
had faded from.
Sure enough, there was a response. "What kind of hill?"
"Romants. When the ants bite you, you fall in love. I think there's a small
love spring under the hill."
"That's novel."
"A romants novel?" Cube could take or leave puns, but this did seem to be
a good occasion for one.
"I'm gone." And maybe this time she was.
So when should she make the trek to the Good Magician's castle? Well,
there was no time like the present. It wasn't as if she had anything worth
returning home for. She lived alone, without even hope of male company.
She headed for the nearest enchanted path. Those paths were always best
for traveling, because dragons and other noxious beasts couldn't get on them,
and they had regular rest stops with pie trees and shelter. In fact she had
always wanted to travel, but never had a reason to do it. Now she had the
best one: her future happiness.
Cube walked swiftly. She was a good walker, having muscles in her legs
and stamina in her torso. Of course that was part of the problem; she had
muscles instead of feminine curves. So she could out-walk any girl she knew,
but of course they didn't need to walk. Men came walking to them.
Soon she was out of familiar territory, but she wasn't concerned. She could
defend herself if she needed to. Which was another part of the problem: her
talent was an ugly, aggressive one, befitting her character, when she would
have preferred an appealing, feminine one.
She approached a huge mound. It looked like an ant hill, except that water
was flowing down its slopes. She didn't trust this, but the trail led right by it on
the way to the enchanted path.
A huge insect came out to challenge her. It was larger than she was, and
had about thirty heads, each of which had a snout looking rather like the
nozzle of a hose. What in Xanth could it be?
Then she saw the sign: BEWARE THE HYDRA ANT. Oh, no--this was one
of those water-spouting bugs.
She reversed course, backing away. She didn't want trouble. But the hydra
ant followed. Then it squirted water from one of its nozzles. The jet missed,
but soon it would get the range, and Cube would get soaked. It was looking
for trouble.
There was no help for it. She had to defend herself, because this was the
only access in this area to the enchanted path, and she had to reach that path.
It wasn't as if she lacked gumption to do it, just that she preferred to try to
seem halfway feminine if that was manageable. But this was the time for
boldness.
She invoked her talent. In a moment a swarm of little silvery bugs appeared.
They were nickelpedes, the scourge of caves and crevices. "Sic 'em," she
said, pointing to the ant.
The nickelpedes charged the big ant. In a moment they were chomping its
feet, gouging out nickel-sized chunks of flesh. The hydra danced away, but
they pursued. It aimed jets of water at them, but though it was able to wash
any one nickelpede away, or any thirty, there were over a hundred of them.
Soon it gave up the fight and retreated into its hill.
"Enough," Cube called. "Thank you."
The nickelpedes left off the chase, and faded into the woods. Cube walked
on by the ant hill and reached the enchanted path.
Now she was safe, but unsatisfied. She didn't like having to use her talent,
because every time she did it reminded her how unladylike she was.
Summoning and controlling nickelpedes--what delicate flower of a feminine
girl would ever be caught with a talent like that? There were probably plenty of
male roughnecks who would love it. But they hadn't gotten it; she had. She
hated it.
Well, she shouldn't have to use it anymore, because the enchanted path
had no threats. She wasn't even sure she would be able to use it here, since
nickelpedes were monsters. Little ones, but no less deadly for all that. So they
probably were barred.
The enchanted path was nice. No brambles overlapped it, no tangle trees
lurked beside it, and of course there were no dragons, griffins, or other
dangerous creatures. It occurred to her that life should be like this, with a
clear path and no dangers. It would be nice to travel forever on such a path.
Except that she didn't want to do it alone. She wanted to travel with a man--a
man she loved, who loved her too. And that was impossible as long as she
was not beautiful.
It kept coming back to that. What would she do if the Good Magician
couldn't help her? Now that she had gotten up the gumption to try to do
something about it, she just had to succeed. Somehow.
The path wound into valleys, around hills, through forests, and wherever
else it thought of, being in no hurry to get where it was going. It finally came to
a camp just as evening was approaching. That was part of the enchantment,
of course; it was as if the path knew who would be walking on it, and arranged
things to be convenient. Yet again, Cube wished that her life could be like that.
She entered the camp, and found a nice little stream cutting across a
corner, with assorted pie plants growing by its bank. There was a curtained
shelter made of soft cottonwood beside a pillow bush. She was about to pick
a nice apple pie when she heard something. She paused, listening.
It was footsteps. Someone else was coming to the camp, from the other
direction. Cube wasn't sure whether to be nervous; would it be a nice person,
or not?
It turned out to be a handsome young man with blue hair. He spied her as
he entered the camp, and waved. "Hi! I'm Ryver."
That was straightforward. "I'm Cue--Cube."
"I didn't know anyone would be here. Is it okay to share?"
What could she say? She was nervous about strangers, yet he seemed
nice enough. If he was as nice as he looked, he was exactly the kind of
company she wanted. "Of course."
Then he paused, glancing at her more closely. "You're a girl!"
He had been in doubt? "And you're a boy."
Ryver evidently realized that he had been clumsy. "Uh, I mean--"
"Never mind. Make yourself at home." But they had gotten off to an
awkward start. Which was the way it usually was, with her, with men.
He looked at the shelter. "Share that too?"
"Of course." Staying the night with a young man--how nice it could have
been, if only she were the kind of girl to make a boy get ideas.
Nevertheless, after they had eaten, they harvested pillows and settled in
the cottonwood shelter. Each plank was full of soft cotton, and the pillows
made it that much more comfortable. It was dark outside, but there was a faint
glow from the walls so that they could see well enough. "Wanta talk or sleep?"
Ryver asked. Then, realizing that sounded wrong, he tried to backtrack. "I
mean--"
"Talk," she said quickly. "Tell me about yourself." Because then she could
listen and pretend she was part of his life.
"Sure. I'm twenty-three years old and on my own. My name's Ryver
because of my talent. I can work with water. You know--make water balls and
things. What's your talent?"
She had to tell him. "Nickelpedes. I can summon and direct them."
"Say, that's great! Can you make them go away, if you have to go through a
cave or something?"
"Yes."
"That must be fun. Everybody's afraid of nickelpedes."
"Yes." Which was the problem. So she changed the subject. "Where are
you from? Where are you going?"
"I'm going nowhere in particular. I just like to travel. So I'm coming from
home and going back there. Nothing much else to do. Last night I met a pretty
girl with the talent of negativity; that was a frustration."
"She had a bad attitude?"
"Not at all. She was nice. She said she expected to have a hot night with
me, and I liked that idea. But then we slept in separate cabins and had
nothing to do with each other."
Cube wished he had a similar idea about her, but of course he didn't.
"Why?"
"Her talent reversed her expectation. What she thinks of won't happen, and
it didn't. I was just as annoyed as she was, but I couldn't get close to her."
If only he wanted to get close to Cube! "Why didn't she announce that the
two of you would never get together?"
Ryver stared at her. "She never thought of that. Neither did I. What a
waste!" He shook his head. "How about you?"
It kept coming back to her, and not in any way she liked, which was exactly
where she didn't want it. But she had to answer. "I'm just a dull village girl. I'm
going to see the Good Magician."
"That so? What's your Question?"
Ryver was a bit too open for her taste, being short on sensitivity in the
masculine manner. Now she was stuck with the answer. "How can I be
beautiful."
"That makes sense," he agreed. Then, yet again, he caught up to the
awkwardness too late. "I mean--"
"I know."
There was another ungainly silence. Finally he broke it. "That's my problem.
I keep saying the wrong thing."
"I'm used to it."
摘要：

CUBERoutePiersAnthonyXanth27Chapter1RearViewLookingback,aswasnaturalinthecircumstance,Cubeconcludedthatitallstartedwiththerear-viewmirror.Whatacomplicatedroute,fromsuchaminortrigger.Shewasoutpickingbubblegumfromthebubblegumtreebeyondthehayfieldwhentherewasaswirlofsmokebesideher."Whatareyoudoing?"the...

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