Anthony, Piers - Xanth 20 - Yon Ill Wind

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NIMBY

The Demons of the system did not gather frequently

unless there were intriguing contests to be made or

issues to be settled. This occasion was a bit of both.

"You must have cheated!" the Demoness VCEW)"5 de-

clared. Of course the Demons did not actually communi-

cate in words or have any emphasis, but for the sake of

intelligibility their interactions could be represented as

such in degraded prose. "You have been winning every

contest recently."

"I simply learned how to play to win," the Demon

X(A/N)11' responded mildly. "My victories have been

fair."

"I wonder," the Demon E(A/R)111 remarked. "There is

something suspicious about the way that foolish mortal

boy gave up his game victory at the last moment, so that

you won our wager."

"And the way that crazy lesser demoness decided the

obviously innocent bird was guilty, so that you won our

wager," V(E\N)"8 agreed.

"I merely have compatible lesser creatures in my do-

main, because I allow them to pursue their own mischief

without interference," XCA/N)* protested. He glanced

obliquely at E(A/R)lh. "In contrast to some."

"If I did that, my idiot creatures would destroy my do-

main," ECA/R)* retorted.

"Aren't they doing that anyway?" V(E\N)"8 inquired

snidely.

"Hardly the way your lesser creatures affected your do-

2 PIERS ANTHONY

main," E(A/R)th shot back. "Now it's all cloud and desert,

instead of milk and honey."

"We all have made our little mistakes," the Demon

JUCP/I)'" said soothingly. "Which is why we have failed

to gain significant lasting status. But it does seem that

X(A/N)'1' has been unusually fortunate recently."

"Yes it does," V(E\N)1"' said emphatically.

"Agreed," E(A/R)'11 agreed. There was a murmur of ac-

quiescence from the other Demons present.

"It is merely my good lesser creatures," X(A/N)"' in-

sisted. "I treat them well, and they reward me by behaving

well. My fortune is in the quality of my creatures."

The other Demons exchanged a hundred and fifteen

glances in half a fraction of a moment. "Suppose we put

that to the test?" JUCP/I)'" suggested.

XCA/N)* grew more interested. "Are you challenging

me to a contest?"

"Yes, I believe I am. Suggest terms."

"If I win, I will assume your status as dominant entity

in this system."

"Agreed. And if you lose, you will revert to the status

of least entity in this system, and yield your land to me."

That was a formidable stricture, for it had taken

X(A/N)th three thousand years to work his way up to se-

cond place, and might take longer to do it again. Still, this

might be his only chance to depose JtKP/I)"", because or-

dinarily the Dominant Demon would never put his status

on the line. "Agreed. Conditions?"

JIKP/I)'" smiled. This was akin to a short-tailed comet

fragmenting and plastering itself across his face in a series

of violent collisions. "You must subject yourself directly

to the whims of these inferior creatures you claim have

such good behavior. You must assume the form of a mortal

entity and go among them for the duration of the contest."

Now, this was different! "But normally we don't influ-

ence the inferiors in any way, so that the outcome is com-

pletely random, or at least not affected by the touch of a

Demon." He glanced darkly at V(E\N)"8, whom he sus-

YON ILL WIND

pected of violating that stricture the last time.

—SA(T/U)"1—nodded, and his rings precessed. "This

time you will have license to influence them—to the extent

you are able."

X(A/N)'1' realized that he had been set up. The other

Demons were conspiring to bring him down, because they

were miffed by his string of victories. Still, he did have

good lesser creatures, and perhaps they would bring him

the biggest victory of all. Certainly the challenge was ex-

citing. He had on occasion interacted with them, when they

had intruded on his awareness, but never done so for a

prolonged period. "So I can interact. What's the catch?"

"Your awareness can not be limited," JU(P/I)""' said,

' 'for you are in essence a Demon, regardless of the form

you assume. But for the purpose of the contest, your ex-

pression can be limited. You may not tell any creature of

your realm your true nature, and if any learn of it, you

forfeit immediately."

"Provided no other supernatural entity informs them,"

X(A/N)th said, with another glance at the Demoness.

"Agreed," JL^P/I)'" said. "We shall enforce that stric-

ture. Anything else you may convey to one person, in one

moment. But—" He paused meaningfully. "There will be

a penalty when you do: thereafter you will -lose the power

of verbal communication, for the duration of the contest."

But one moment of full communication should be

enough, XCA/N)* reflected, his albedo increasing. So there

was probably another catch. "What else?"

"You will have your full powers, apart from speech,

limited to yourself and one inferior creature of your choos-

ing, to the extent that creature requests them."

"But if I am not allowed to describe my real nature, in

my moment of communication—''

"Invent something," JUCP/I)'" suggested. "Anything

but the truth. But if you come close enough to the truth

so that the creature, or any other denizen of your domain,

catches on, you lose."

That, too, was reasonable; he could approach the truth,

4 PIERS ANTHONY

but if he came too close, so that the inferior creature re-

alized that he was in fact the Demon X(A/N)"', he would

forfeit. But the contest was sdll incomplete. "What is the

penalty for becoming what that creature chooses?"

"The power of motion," JI-KP/I)^ said. "After that

state ends, when the inferior creature terminates the asso-

ciation and separates from you for more than a moment

and more than a unit of distance, you will not only be

mute but completely immobile. You will lose your powers

of magical action, too, other than awareness. So you had

better achieve your objective before such separation oc-

curs."

"Decision, time, geography," V(E\N)"5 said. "That is

fair, isn't it? Triple termination. No accidents." Fair, to

her, meant she felt assured of his loss, which she desired

more than a victory of her own.

This was getting tough, all right. He could speak only

once, and then could act only as long as he kept company

with the creature. Inferior creatures were notoriously

fickle; at any time, for little or no reason, the one selected

could decide it no longer desired his association, and tell

him so, and depart. By the terms of this contest, he would

not be able to demur.

But it wasn't yet done. This conspiracy of Demons

meant to see that he had virtually no chance at all. He

needed to know the worst of it. "What is the actual item

of decision?"

"You must be the recipient of at least one tear of love

or grief, from a creature who has no notion of its signifi-

cance."

"The creature with whom you associate," V^EW)"5

amended. "No other."

And there it was. He had to evoke the severe sympathy

of an inferior and ignorant creature. "And how long will

I have to evoke this tear?"

' 'As long as your mortal body remains. If you become

mute and immobile without achieving it, your body will

behave in the manner of mortal entities: it will slowly

YON ILL WIND

starve to death. When it dies, the contest will be over, and

you will have lost."

X(A/N)th considered. They expected him to balk, and to

have to pay a forfeit for that. ' 'Agreed. Let me select my

mortal form for the occasion." He was thinking of becom-

ing a beautiful woman, because mortals shed tears very

readily over them. Or perhaps a winsome child: better yet.

"No. That's the last detail: I will select your mortal

form."

"But you could choose something difficult!"

"Exactly. It will be a real contest. Win it, and I will

concede that your creatures do have good behavior."

"You will concede more than that," X(A/Ny1' replied

grimly. "I accept your deal, and the other Demons will

watch to see that every aspect of it is honored."

. The other Demons nodded. This promised to be inter-

esting.

"Then assume your mortal coil," Demon JLKP/I)'" said

grandly. "A dragon ass, with the voice of an aqua duck.

Your role name is Nimby."

And before X(A/N)th could protest, he was in the Region

of Madness, in the form of a creature whose body was that

of a dragon with diagonal stripes of pastel pink and bilious

green, with the head of a Mundane donkey.

"Ouch," he muttered subvocally, but even then it was

the voice of an aqua duck, a sound like a cross between a

goblin holding his nose and the burble of noxious gas per-

colating through sewer water.

There was a stir on the surface of the cesspool that just

happened to be near. An aqua duck poked its head out of

the pool, evidently thinking to discover another of its kind.

Finding no such thing, it ducked below again, for such

ducks lived underwater, and had to hold their breaths to

forage for bugs on the surface.

And his name was now Nimby, which was an apt de-

scription, a digest of Not In My Back Yard: exactly where

such a creature would be welcome. Nowhere.

He was in trouble. How would he convince anyone even

6 PIERS ANTHONY

to approach him, let alone shed a tear for him?

Well, he could look. He extended his awareness, cov-

ering all of the Land of Xanth. He knew what every crea-

ture was doing, and where every plant was. Xanth was

teeming with activity. Somewhere there should be some-

one who wouldn't be afraid of a dragon ass, who would

listen to what he had to say, and who would shed a tear

for him. Maybe not immediately, but in time, after getting

to know him. Because despite his ludicrous limitations, he

retained considerable power to please. If the one he ap-

proached had the wit to ask for it. If that one would take

him seriously.

But instead of finding a suitable person, he found an-

other problem. There had been a magic flux, the moment

he changed form, resulting in a temporary weakness of the

Interface. The spell required to fix him in this situation had

done it, for even the most trifling Demon magic was

stronger than that of all the lesser creatures combined. For

the next few hours, it would be possible for things to pass

through, entering Xanth without being twisted to some

other time. That could mean significant mischief. Ordinar-

ily he would automatically shore up the Interface to pre-

vent such a nuisance, but as Nimby he couldn't. It was his

policy to ignore the activities of his associated region, but

the Interface the local creatures had established was useful,

and helped keep things quiet, so he quietly supported it.

He just had to hope that nothing really obnoxious passed

from Mundania into Xanth, before the Interface healed it-

self.

It would be nice if the person he approached was ex-

tremely cooperative, and shed a tear for him immediately,

giving him the victory and freeing him. But since he

couldn't even say that he needed a tear, that being too

close to the truth, that seemed unlikely. However, if the

person asked him for information, he could provide it, and

if the person asked him to do something about the rift in

the Interface, then he could. Provided he did it in such a

way as to conceal his real nature. So there was a chance

YON ILL WIND 7

to fix the problem, during the course of the contest. If he

found the right person.

He concentrated on that, sifting through all the creatures

of the land. The great majority were plainly unsuitable.

Most were hopelessly locked into their situations, and

wouldn't have anything to do with a weird monster. In

fact, they would either flee it or attack it, depending on

the state of their courage. He needed someone reasonably

open-minded. That cut the prospects down to few.

He headed for the nearest. This was a pretty young hu-

man woman named Miss Fortune. She was .smart, decent,

amiable, lovely, and caring, and did not judge others too

much by appearances. She would make some young man

a fine wife, but for one thing. Her talent was bad luck, and

it always interfered when a really good prospect ap-

proached her. Thus she was perhaps ideal for Nimby, who

could, if she asked him, reverse her luck. He would catch

her alone, present himself, and use his one moment of

speech to acquaint her with the usefulness of Nimby.

Thereafter he would be silent, per the stricture of the con-

test, but it should be enough. She would get to know him,

realize that he was not merely a monster, ask him to re-

verse her luck, and when he did so, she should really ap-

preciate him. Of course, that would not make her cry him

a tear, but perhaps that would come later, if she came to

care for him enough. She often did cry for her pets, and

for family members when they suffered mischief—which

was rather often, because of her talent. So this looked rea-

sonably good.

Nimby trotted along toward the rendezvous. His dragon

body was actually quite strong, and could move well. His

hide was tough enough to ignore nettles and branches. His

eyes were good enough to spy out suitable paths. His nose

was good enough to sniff out all manner of creatures great

and small. In fact. Nimby felt his first pang of hunger. He

was mortal now, so had to eat. Hunger was a new expe-

rience. So he sniffed out a fruiting pie plant and snapped

up a fresh cherry pie. He gulped it down and slurped his

8 PIERS ANTHONY

tongue around his donkey lips. Eating was fun!

He extended his awareness again. Fortune was starting

out to gather a sprig of thyme, because her mother was

getting rushed and needed a bit more. "There's no thyme

like the present," she said. "Go fetch it now." So Fortune,

sweet as she was, set out instantly to fetch it.

Nimby explored the immediate region with his aware-

ness. There were, it turned out, several paths to the thyme

plant, because many families made occasional use of it. In

fact, they found thyme to be quite precious. It would not

be long before Fortune arrived there.

He considered what he would say to her when they met.

Because he would appear to her as a frightening monster,

he had better speak to her first, reassuring her. Then, when

she was prepared, he would show her his dragon ass form.

Even so, his words would have to be effective, because he

would have only a moment of speech. Moments varied in

length; some were long, some short. In this case it would

be the time until she made a verbal response of some kind

to his speech. So he would have to forestall her cry or

exclamation, lest his moment end before he conveyed to

her his potential usefulness to her. Such as being able to

reverse her talent for a time. He could tell her that he had

reverse wood, and knew how to use it to help her. No, she

would just ask for the wood. So he would instead tell her

that his talent could make her what she wanted to be, as

long as they were together. So she would need to keep his

company for a while. Because not only would he be silent

after his moment of speech, he would be immobile once

they formally separated. Thus his single opening

monologue would be of overwhelming importance, and he

had to do it just right. He could in effect win or lose his

contest in that moment.

He reached the thyme plant. It was a small one, so its

effects were limited. Someone had drawn a circle in the

dirt around it, showing the safe limit of approach. Folk

who wanted a leaf of thyme had to use a wooden hook to

get it, because the inanimate was not as greatly affected.

YON ILL WIND 9

That was what Fortune was coming here to do. Then she

would maneuver the leaf into a magic pouch that stifled

its ambiance, and take the pouch home to her mother. Her

mother, of course, would know how to handle it safely;

mothers were always in need of more thyme.

Nimby ducked down behind a pile of rocks near the

plant. This form was good at ducking, because of the aqua

duck component. He wouldn't be able to see the girl very

well from here, but neither would she be able to see him,

which was what counted. Of course, he could use his

awareness to see her without eyes, but it was easier just

to listen for her approach while he rehearsed his moment

of speech. He wanted the fewest feasible diversions for

this practice.

How could he get her to listen without speaking? Maybe

if he made a straight quacking noise, she would think he

was a duck, and would pause, unworried. All he needed

was to get the first few words in, warning her just to listen,

and then he could run off the whole spiel. Fortune, with

her constant bad luck, had surely learned to react cau-

tiously, so well might listen in silence, for a time, anyway.

His donkey ears twitched. She was here! She had ap-

proached with her soft step while he pondered. She was

standing at the edge of the thyme plant's limit; his aware-

ness saw her human feminine form. He had almost missed

her. He had not an instant to waste.

"Quack! Quack!" he said in his ducky voice. "Please

listen to me without speaking, for I have information of

interest to you. I know of your problem with your talent,

and I can help you reverse it, for my own talent is to make

a person whatever she wants to be, as long as she is in my

company." So far so good; she had not made a sound. But

he had to get in the rest before his moment ended. "I am

a friend, but I am not human. I have an ugly form, but I

have no wish at all to harm you. I need the company of a

person like you, and I will do my best to make my com-

pany worthwhile. To justify your trust. But after this, I

will not be able to speak again; I will be completely mute.

10 PIERS ANTHONY

So you will have to tell me what you desire. Stay with me,

and you can be what you wish to be, as long as we are

together. I wish only to win your friendship. Please do not

be dismayed by my appearance, which is awful. I am com-

pletely harmless to you, for I will suffer without your com-

pany." Had he covered enough? He couldn't tell her more

about himself; he had come as close to the truth as he

dared. But maybe he could offer an explanation for his

form, so she wouldn't scream and run away when she saw

him. "I am an enchanted creature, not entirely what I

seem. My fate depends on you. Now, if you care to look

at me, look at the pile of rocks to your right. I will lift my

head and nod, and thereafter be silent. But you can talk to

me, and I will understand, and do what I can for you.

Please trust me. My name is Nimby."

He had said enough. Now it was make-or-break time.

Slowly he raised his head and peered over the rocks. There

she was, and—

It was the wrong girl.

"Oh—a funny donkey!" the girl exclaimed.

And now Nimby was mute, per the contest rule. He had

had a good long moment, longer than expected, and had

spoken well. But how had he come to this mistaken con-

nection? He extended his awareness out and back, tracing

the girl's travel here, and in a moment he had it: Miss

Fortune's bad luck had struck again. There was a crossing

of two paths, just beyond a wide wallflower, and she had

collided with another girl. The two had had their breaths

knocked out, and had sat down on opposite sides, gasping.

Then they had gotten up, brushed themselves off, made

quick curt apologies to each other though each was sure

the other had been at fault, and gone on their ways—down

the wrong paths. Fortune had gone on the other girl's er-

rand, which was to fetch a nice bow from a bow-vine so

her mother wouldn't give her a punish-mint. And the other

girl had gone on Fortune's errand, and had been just re-

alizing her error when Nimby had spoken to her.

She was Chlorine, whose talent was poisoning water.

YON ILL WIND 11

She was plain, stupid, and mean-spirited, in complete con-

trast to Fortune. The collision bad been her fault, because

she had been rushing along without looking, too fast for

path conditions. Thus she had given Fortune the colossal

ill luck to lose her encounter with Nimby, who could have

helped her so much, and had given Nimby the worse luck

to have wasted his opening monologue on her. What was

he going to do with this wretch of a wench? Because she

was the one he was stuck with.

Chlorine approached him. "And you can't talk any-

more?" She inquired. "Not even to bray?" She giggled

at her own clumsy humor.

She was asking for it. Nimby stood up, showing his

dragon body.

"Oh—you're a weird dragon," she said. "Ugliest crea-

ture I've ever seen! Why should I ever want to keep com-

pany with you?"

Why, indeed. Fortune would have had some sympathy,

for she was a decent girl. But Chlorine had a harsh per-

sonality, such as there was of it. And now, casting his

awareness back across her life, he discovered something

even worse: she had once had some sensitivity, but it had

been beaten out of her by her abusive family. She had long

since cried herself out, and now had only one tear left, and

she did not know where that one was. Even if so moved,

she couldn't cry a tear for him. And she wouldn't be

moved, because she had become cynical and heedless of

the feelings of others. Chlorine was simply no prize.

Nimby stared defeat in the snoot. He could hardly have

invoked a worse companion. All because he had not been

paying attention, while a girl known for her ill luck had

suffered more of it. He had come up with the perfect

speech—for an undeserving girl. He had thrown away his

chance for victory. He hung his head in remorse.

"Still," Chlorine said, "if what you said is true, this

could be my lucky day. I'm going to give you a chance.

But I warn you, if you try to eat me, I'll poison your water,

and you'll have one awful bladder infection." Actually,

12 PIERS ANTHONY

her language was somewhat more cynically descriptive,

the key phrase being "pied pee," but Nimby wasn't quite

current with inferior vernacular.

So she wasn't afraid for her safety. She could indeed

poison any water with a touch, which meant she could kill

a creature if she had to. She couldn't do it to Nimby, be-

cause he was a Demon, but of course, he couldn't afford

to let her realize that. And she was what he was stuck with,

and the contest had not yet been resolved; maybe he still

had an outside chance to win. So he nodded, showing that

he understood her warning.

"Make me beautiful," she said.

That was easy. He focused on her, and transformed her

various pans. He made her straggly greenish yellow hair

.into luxuriant green-tinted golden tresses that curled just

enough to be interesting. He made her yellowish complex-

ion into the fairest skin seen in Xanth. He shifted the sub-

stance of her body so that her egg-timer torso became an

hourglass figure. He formed her thick clodhoppered feet

into dainty digits in glassy slippers. And he adjusted her

shapeless dress into an elegant robe that clung to her sud-

denly firm curves like an artistic lover. She was now a

stunning creature of her kind.

She looked down at herself, appreciating the change.

"Oooo! Is this real? I mean, not illusion? It feels real."

She pinched her delightful derriere just hard enough to

verify its mind-freaking reality.

Nimby nodded, agreeing that it was real. As long as

their association continued.

"I need a mirror," she said. "I want to see my face."

Nimby made one of his scales mirror-shiny and turned

it so she could look. She peered at herself, thrilled.

Then she reconsidered. "I'm not just dull-looking, I'm

dull-thinking. I've been told that often enough. Can you

make me smart, too?"

That was phrased as a question, but it was actually a

request, just as the mirror had been. Nimby concentrated

YON ILL WIND 13

on the spongy interior of her head, increasing the effi-

ciency of her mind.

She smiled. "I'm getting smarter! I can feel it! I'm be-

ginning to understand things I never did before. My per-

spective is broadening immeasurably." She paused. "And

so is my vocabulary. I never talked like that before."

Nimby nodded. He had improved not only the height of

her intelligence, but also its breadth. Now she could over-

whelm problems by force of intellect, and have the judg-

ment to know when to apply it. Now she really would use

the term "bladder infection."

She cocked her head, looking at him. "You know,

you're quite a creature, if I'm not dreaming this. Your

talent is quite strong. But now I have the wit to look a gift

dragon in the tooth. Why are you doing this for me? You

said you need my company, but I'm sure my company is

not unique. Was it chance or design that brought you to

me?"

Nimby couldn't answer that, so just gazed at her.

She was quick to understand, because of her new intel-

lect. "Let me rephrase that: was it chance?"

He nodded yes. He had been looking for Miss Fortune,

and ill chance had brought him Chlorine instead.

"Chance that you found me," she said slowly, feeling

her way through the powerful mind she now possessed,

becoming aware of the several informational options and

their bypaths. "But you must have had a design. Did you

need me specifically?"

He shook no.

"Is your ultimate intention toward me beneficial?"

He nodded yes. He had to do her enough good to make

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1NIMBYTheDemonsofthesystemdidnotgatherfrequentlyunlesstherewereintriguingconteststobemadeorissuestobesettled.Thisoccasionwasabitofboth."Youmusthavecheated!"theDemonessVCEW)"5de-clared.OfcoursetheDemonsdidnotactuallycommuni-cateinwordsorhaveanyemphasis,butforthesakeofintelligibilitytheirinteractionsc...

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