Anthony, Piers - Xanth 14 - Question Quest

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Chapter 1. Lacuna

lacuna was slogging through a blue funk. It clung to her body, making her seem

prematurely middle-aged. It infused her clothing, making it dowdy. It smirched

her face, making wrinkles start to think of appearing. It washed through her

hair, rinsing it dishwater dull. In fact, it permeated her whole life, making

her thirty-four years old.

She had been young once; she was sure of it. She and her twin brother, Hiatus,

had been genuine mischief as children. She remembered fondly how they had

messed up the wedding of Good Magician Humfrey and the Gorgon, when they were

only three years old. At that time their parents, the Zombie Master and Millie

the ghost, had been sharing the Good Magician's castle, because it dated from

the time eight hundred years before when their parents had first lived. It had

seemed only natural that the cute twins should carry the end of the bride's

long train. But they had done more than that. Hiatus had made eyes, ears, and

noses sprout from things, that being his talent, and Lacuna had changed the

print in the manual so that instead of saying things like "until death do you

part," it had said "the few measly years before you croak.' * For some reason

La-

2 Question Quest

cuna's mother had not found that very funny. Well, Lacuna was older now, and

could see her mother's point. But it only reminded her how she herself had

never married. She would have settled for the worst of weddings, for the sake

of a good marriage. Or for a mediocre marriage, instead of mediocre old

maidenhood.

Later they had moved to New Castle Zombie in southern Xanth, which had been

fine. She and Hiatus had had separate rooms, and had teased the poor zombies

mercilessly. Somehow it seemed that the best of her life had been used up in

childhood. Once she grew up and joined the Adult Conspiracy, her life had

become a time of tedium followed by a period of monotony trailed by an age of

boredom working into years of sheer unmitigated blah. Finally the funk had set

in, and now she was fed up to her tired eyeballs with it. So she was doing

something about it: she was visiting the Good Magician with a Question.

Now she came to the region of the Good Magician's Castle. It was not as she

remembered it, because it kept changing. She understood that, and was not put

off. She knew that she would have to brave three challenges before she could

get in and see the Good Magician. At least they should be interesting.

A low jungle surrounded the castle. The magic path she was on led right up to

it, then petered out in a thicket of hands and feet. She recognized the type:

palmettos. The palms were on stems, their fingers splayed, while the toes grew

along the ground, covering it up.

Well, such plants were generally harmless. The palms could get a bit fresh

when buxom young women brushed by them, but they would probably just ignore

Lacuna. Still, it was best to find a path through them, because dangerous

creatures could hide among them and attack the feet of someone who plowed

blithely through. So she walked to the side, finding a space between plants.

In a moment her way was blocked again by thickly growing palmettos whose

fingers clutched at her plain cloth skirt and whose toes tried to catch her

dull shoed

Question Quest 3

feet. She avoided these by turning to the side again. But this wasn't getting

her into the castle; she was actually going away from it now.

She reversed her course and explored on the other side. But seemingly

promising avenues curled their way into dead ends, preventing her from getting

any closer to the castle. How strange! How could the magic path have been

overgrown like this? It was supposed to be enchanted to-Then she realized that

this was the first challenge! She had to find her way through this thicket of

hands and feet, without getting into trouble. It could have been worse; she

would really have hated walking over a potato patch and having all those eyes

peer up under her skirt and wink at the dull color of her panties. Men never

quite appreciated why women always cut the eyes out of potatoes, first thing.

Or maybe they did, because when men got hold of potatoes they planted those

eyes in the ground, where they would grow into plants with more potatoes and

more eyes.

Fair enough. There was always a solution to the challenges, if the person had

the wit to find it. It had been that way in Magician Humfrey's day, and

remained so in Magician Grey Murphy's day. Murphy had tried to run the castle

without the challenges at first, but had been overwhelmed by folk with

Questions, and so had adopted Humfrey's policy. He also now required a

significant service for his Answer, which could be anything up to a year of

mopping floors in the castle. That tended to discourage frivolous Questions.

Well, she was prepared to mop. It wouldn't be any duller than her prior life.

But she doubted she would have to, because she had something she believed Grey

Murphy wanted very much: the key to his freedom from Corn-Pewter. Com-Pewter

was an evil machine made of pewter and glass and crockery and wires and

things, who sought to rule Xanth. Com-Pewter had two and a half great assets

in this quest. First, the evil machine could change reality in its vicinity,

merely by printing

4 Question Quest

new situations on its screen. Second, Grey Murphy was bound to serve Corn-

Pewter the moment he finished his service to Good Magician Humfrey, who was

absent for the time being. Second and a half, Corn-Pewter had inanimate

patience. So it could wait a lifetime if need be, and the moment Humfrey

returned, Pewter would have the service of a full Magician and could more

actively set about taking over Xanth. Lacuna could do something about that,

and she thought Grey Murphy would be interested. Certainly his fiancee, the

Princess Ivy, should be, because she didn't quite dare marry Grey until that

little business was settled. If not—well, then, Lacuna would mop.

Provided she could just get into the castle! The more she tried to make

progress toward it, the more she seemed to make regress away from it. The

palmettos did not seem to move, yet somehow they were always in her way. Where

was the path through?

Or was she supposed to get rid of them somehow? To cut a path through? She

didn't have a suitable knife, and her talent of printing wouldn't do for this.

So there had to be some other way.

She paused and pondered. She was fairly well educated, because there wasn't

much point in changing print if a person didn't know what it meant to begin

with. She ought to be able to think of something.

Then it came to her. She was standing at yet another dead-end pathlet, having

just about lost herself amidst the palmettos. "I think I'll get out of this

stupid patch of hands and feet," she said loudly. "I'm tired of these pointing

fingers and scuffled toes and pointless paths." Then she marched resolutely

back the way she had come.

But almost immediately she encountered more palms and toes, blocking her way

out. She had to turn aside, trying to move directly away, from the castle and

not succeeding. She made a snort of impatience and moved on, looking for the

outward path. "I know it's here somewhere," she muttered. "I came in on it,

after all!"

Question Quest 5

But somehow the way continued to elude her. She moved faster, as if trying to

find her way out before the palms could change their positions and block her

off, but this didn't work either. She only found herself driven back farther

into the thicket. The more she struggled to get through, the farther back she

was driven by the uncooperative paths.

Finally she found the entire circle of palmetto between her and the magic path

away from the Good Magician's castle. She had only succeeded in passing

through the thicket the wrong way.

"Well, if that's the way you want it," she said with irritation bordering on

mirth. She turned to face the castle, having navigated the first challenge.

Behind her the palms rustled and the toes scuffled in the dirt. They were

chagrined. They had been outsmarted. They had labored successfully to foil the

route she said she wanted, not being clever enough to see through her trick.

Had they had brains as well as palms and toes, it might have been a different

matter. But of course that was the nature of these challenges: to find the

weaknesses of them and successfully exploit those weaknesses to win through.

Now she stood by the moat. There was a boy of about ten swimming in it. He

looked ordinary, except that his hair was blue. That suggested that there was

no moat monster or other threat in the water. The drawbridge was down, too, so

if this wasn't an illusion or trick, she could cross without challenge. That

was just as well; she didn't fancy getting wet.

She put a foot cautiously on the end of the drawbridge. It was solid. However,

a section of it might be illusion or have a trapdoor or something, so she

would proceed with excruciating care. The worst challenges were the ones a

person didn't expect.

Something flew by just in front of her. It appeared to be a ball of water. It

landed and splatted on the bank. It was water.

She looked in the direction from which it had come.

6 Question Quest

There was the boy, scooping up another handful of water and forming it into a

ball.

"Are you going to throw that at me?" she asked.

"Sure, if you try to cross the moat. I'm supposed to stop you, you know."

"Oh, so this is a challenge?"

"Sure. Nothing personal. You look like a nice lady."

It had been so long since anyone had said anything like that to Lacuna that

she almost blushed with pleasure. But this was business. "A little ball of

water wouldn't stop me."

"Then how about a big ball?" He scooped up a double armful, and formed a ball

of water as big as a beach ball.

"You couldn't throw that," she said.

For answer, he heaved the ball over the drawbridge. It just seemed to float up

without much effort on his part. Such a mass could indeed knock her off the

bridge.

"Well, then, I'll just have to wade or swim across," she said.

The boy swept his hand across the surface of the moat. Suddenly there were

waves on the water, cruising outward and lapping the bank. He made another

pass, and the waves got larger. They were formidable enough to make her

hesitate.

"Your talent is water magic," she said. "That is impressive. What's your

name?"

"Ryver." He scuffled a toe in the water. He seemed shy, now that she was

getting personal.

"So you must be serving a year, for an Answer."

"Yes."

"If I may ask—why did you come to the Good Magician?"

"Oh, sure, you can ask! I asked him how I could find a good family to adopt

me, 'cause I want to be a real boy, and I need a real family for that."

"You're not real?" she asked, surprised.

"I'm not a real boy. Not a flesh one, I mean. I'm made of water."

Question Quest 7

"Made of water?" Now she was really curious. "You can work with water, and

control it, but that doesn't mean you're not human."

"I can work with water because I am water," he said. "See." Then he dissolved.

His feet flowed away, and his legs, and the rest of his body, up to the head.

"I look like a boy, but it's all water. I'd rather really be a boy, and have

water control as my talent. And I will be, if a family adopts me. The Good

Magician says."

She nodded. "So after your term of service is done, you will set out on a

search for a good family that wants a boy your age."

"Sure! Do you think I'll find one?"

He seemed so eager that she didn't want to dash his hope. But it did seem

doubtful. Most families preferred to raise their own ten-year-old boys. "Did

the Good Magician say you would find one?"

"He said his Book of Answers said that I would, if I did my job well and was

polite to my elders. So I'm doing those things."

He certainly was! He was effectively stopping her from crossing the moat, but

he was being courteous about it, warning her rather than hitting her with

water, and answering her questions. He seemed like a nice boy.

"Well, I hope that's right. But meanwhile, you know I have to find a way

across despite your efforts."

"Yes. I wish you luck, but I have to stop you if I can. If you try to swim and

my waves make you start to drown, I'll save you. I wouldn't want to hurt

anybody."

"I appreciate that." There was no irony in her statement; it was clear that

this was a challenge, not a duel to the death, and Ryver was just doing what

he had to do.

She considered for a while, and pondered for a bit, and thought for a moment,

while Ryver dissolved his head into water, then reformed into a whole boy, in-

Question Quest

eluding clothing. He looked completely real, and she was sure he was real; he

just wasn't made of flesh. If adoption into a human family enabled him to be

transformed into flesh, that would nice for him. She understood that ordinary

people were mostly water anyway; Ryver just took it farther.

She got a glimmer of a notion. "Ryver, can you read?"

"Oh, sure. The Sorceress Ivy taught me to read. She showed me how to start,

and then Enhanced me into being competent. That's her talent, you know. But

you know, most of the books they have at the castle are sort of dry, pardon

the term, and not much fun, if you're not into arcana."

Lacuna had suspected as much. "It happens that my talent is changing print. I

can also make print appear where there was none, and I can control what it

says. Let me show you something interesting to read."

"Oh, no!" he exclaimed. "I won't make a deal to let you get through! That's

not right."

"Dear boy," she said, "I am not trying to bribe you. I'm trying to trick you,

which is fair enough. I am going to show you some print, and if you don't find

it interesting, don't read it."

"It won't work," he said.

She glanced at the now calm surface of the moat. Abruptly words appeared on

its surface, sliding across from right to left, forming a moving band of

words. They disappeared as they reached the left margin, so that the whole

moat wouldn't get covered with print.

ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS A WATER BOY NAMED RYVER WHO WANTED TO BE A FLESH

BOY, the rolling

print said.

"Hey, that's about me!" Ryver exclaimed.

"Well, actually it's a standard story; I just filled in your name to make it

more interesting."

"That's okay." He continued reading, because otherwise he would lose some of

the moving words. He was, as she had suspected, fascinated by references to

Question Quest 9

his own name. Many folk were, especially if the references were complimentary.

It could work even better if the references were insulting, but she lacked the

gumption to write trash.

She poured it on. NOW ONE DAY RYVER WAS SITTING

BY THE BANK OF THE MOAT, WATCHING THE FISH, WHEN A STRANGE CREATURE CAME BY.

IT WAS A DRAGON LOOKING FOR A TASTY FLESH MORSEL TO FRY. "HA!" SAID THE

DRAGON. "l SEE YOU ARE JUST THE KIND OF PERSON I NEED. COME WITH ME AND I WILL

GIVE YOU AN EXPERIENCE LIKE NONE OTHER."

"Kuh-uh!" The live (or water-formed) Ryver grunted. "You won't fry me, you

vicious animal!" He was evidently getting into it. Lacuna heated up the

Script. "OH, IS THAT SO?" THE DRAGON SNORTED, HIS BREATH SCORCHING THE PLANTS

BY THE BANK. "l'LL HUFF AND I'LL PUFF AND l'LL FRY YOUR HEAD OFF!"

"Yeah, fire-brain? I'd like to see you try it!" the real Ryver said.

SO THE DRAGON HUFFED AND IT PUFFED AND IT BLASTED OUT SUCH A BLAST OF FLAME

THAT THE GROUND TURNED BLACK AND SPARKS FLEW FROM THE STONES AND STEAM ROSE

FROM THE MOAT. BUT IT COULDN'T FRY RYVER, BECAUSE HE WAS MADE OF WATER. THEN

RYVER MADE THE WATER RISE UP AND SMACK THE DRAGON RIGHT IN THE FACE.

"I guess that doused your furnace, soggy-snoot!" the boy cried happily.

WELL, THAT MADE THE DRAGON ANGRY. SO IT OPENED ITS JAWS AND CHARGED. IT

CHOMPED RYVER RIGHT THROUGH THE CENTER, BUT ITS TEETH HAD NO EFFECT, BECAUSE

THEY COULDN'T CHEW WATER. AND RYVER SQUIRTED JETS OF WATER IN ITS EYES AND

EARS. THE DRAGON HATED THAT, BECAUSE NOBODY LIKES TO HAVE HIS EARS WASHED.

The text continued, and the boy kept reading avidly. He didn't even notice

that Lacuna had crossed over the drawbridge. That was all right; she had left

enough text

Question Quest

in the queue to hold him for half an hour. She hadn't known how long it would

take for him to be completely distracted, so had put in plenty. Anyway, she

was pleased that someone really liked her writing. She had learned to tell

stories to children when she was babysitting, and rather enjoyed it. Ryver was

a perfect audience.

Now she was across the moat but still outside the castle wall. There was a

door right before her. She walked up and turned the handle. But it didn't

work; the door was locked, and she didn't have the key. Obviously she had to

find the key; this was the third challenge.

She looked around. There was a fairly narrow path that circled the castle just

inside the moat. It was lined by bushes that resembled shelves; their stems

were vertical and their branches horizontal, with the leaves filling in to

complete the pattern. They had squared-off large berries that looked rather

like books on the shelves.

A boy was sitting on the bank, picking the berries and eating them. He looked

a lot like Ryver.

"Who are you?" she inquired, not really expecting an answer.

"I am Torrent, Ryver's twin brother."

Could she believe that? Well, maybe for now.

"What sort of plants are these?" she asked.

"They are library bushes," he responded. "They have endless information, which

I get by eating the fruit."

This was almost too good to be true, so she knew it probably wasn't true. But

she would find out. "Then you must know where the key to that door is."

"Sure. Here it is." He handed her a large wooden key.

She tried the key in the lock. It wouldn't fit. It was the wrong one.

She returned to the boy. "It's not the right key. Where is the right one?"

Question Quest

"On the other side of the castle."

She doubted it, but proceeded on around. There was a small metal key lying on

the path. She picked it up and walked back around to the door. It didn't fit.

She looked at the boy, who was still eating berries. Twice he had directed her

to the wrong key. He was obviously not telling the truth. How could she make

him tell the truth?

She decided to experiment. "Torrent, are you part of this challenge for me?"

"Yes."

"So you are supposed to misdirect me, and prevent me from finding the key.''

"No."

"And you do that by lying to me."

He hesitated, and she knew why. If he lied, she would know it, which would

make the lie worthless, but if he told the truth he wouldn't be misdirecting

her. "No."

Which meant that he did. "So you lied about your identity, too. You are

Ryver."

"No."

"Then where is Ryver? He's not out there reading the print on the moat."

He looked back there, and winced. He must have had to tear himself away from

it with the story unfinished. He didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"And you're not supposed to be part of this challenge," she said, remembering

that he had answered yes to that question before, so it was a lie.

"I can be if I want to be!" he said defensively.

"And now you're telling the truth."

He hung his head. "You trapped me into it. Anyway, it doesn't matter, because

it's only about the challenge that I really had to lie."

"Why not just refuse to tell me anything about the keys?"

"Because—" He stopped. "I can't tell you."

"Because lying has something to do with the solution!" she said, catching on.

Question Quest

"No."

"Which means yes. And the berries—do they have anything to do with it too?''

"No."

"So they do. Exactly what kind of berries are they?"

"Poison."

"Hardly. You've been eating them." Then a light flickered. "You were a

truthful boy. Now you're an untruthful one. You've been eating the berries.

You said they are libraries, but I think they are lie berries. They make you

lie!"

"No!"

"And if I ate one, it would make me lie."

"No."

"But it's hard to lie, if you don't know the truth. So maybe the berries do

have a lot of information, so they know how to lie about it. So die person who

eats them knows the truth, which he won't tell."

"No."

She picked a berry and popped it into her mouth. It was sickly sweet. Then she

spoke: "The key is—" Information coursed through her mind. "Over mere." She

pointed to what she knew was the wrong key, under a bush.

But now she knew where the right key was. It was under the water at the edge

of the moat, hidden by mud. She went there, reached down, and fished it out.

It was made of delicate stone. Then she took it to the door. It fit, and in a

moment the door was unlocked.

She looked back at Ryver, who was staring sadly after her. Information sifted

through her mind as she continued to feel the effect of the berry. Now she

knew why he had come to join this challenge, changing places with the gnome

who was supposed to be eating the berries and doing the lying. He was lonely.

He really did want to be part of a family, and she, as a passing human being,

was a step closer to die illusion of that than being alone was. He was taking

the opportunity to

Question Quest

be closer to her, to interact with her, even though it had to be negative. She

felt sorry for him.

She didn't say anything, because she would be forced to lie until the effect

of the berry wore off. She turned and opened the door. She had made it through

the challenges, and it had been interesting, but she was not completely

pleased. She saw now that she was not the only one whose life was blah.

Chapter 2. Handbasket

Ivy was just inside the doorway, waiting for her. "I knew you would make it

through, Lacuna!" she exclaimed, stepping in for a hug. In the old days she

had been one of the children Lacuna had baby-sat, and they had always gotten

along well. Ivy was now an attractive young woman of twenty-one, and evidently

happy in her relationship with Grey Murphy.

"Well, I'm not glad to see you," Lacuna said, then paused, dismayed. "Oops,

that lie berry I didn't eat—"

"Oh, that's all right; the effect wears off quickly if you don't eat many."

"I ate bushels."

"Which means you ate only one, because if you had eaten bushels, you would say

the opposite. Come on, I think Grey is ready for you. He doesn't look

satisfied; you must have an awkward Question."

Lacuna shrugged, so that no lie would come from her mouth. She followed Ivy to

the central chamber of the castle where the Good Magician awaited them.

Grey was now a nondescript young man of twenty-two. He was the son of Evil

Magician Murphy, who dated from eight or nine centuries before, but like the

Question Quest

Zombie Master and Millie the Ghost, he had come to the present period of

Xanth's history. The senior Murphy was no longer evil, of course; he had

renounced that as a condition of being allowed to settle in this time. He

seldom used his power of cursing things so that they would go wrong in any way

they could, and only did it for beneficial effect. That might seem

contradictory, but it wasn't; if he cursed something evil, than that evil

person or thing went wrong and couldn't accomplish its malign purpose. Grey

had never been evil, of course. But he had the liability of having to serve

Corn-Pewter, because of the deal his parents had made long ago, thinking it

would never take effect. His father couldn't curse the evil machine directly,

because he had made his deal with it to get out of Xanth in the old days, but

had been able to curse the evil plot. That had helped save Grey—until Good

Magician Humfrey returned.

Grey stepped forward to shake Lacuna's hand. That was one of the quaint

Mundane ways he retained. It meant that he was greeting her in a friendly but

not assuming way, and expected the same attitude from her. "I don't suppose I

can talk you out of asking your Question?" he inquired plaintively.

"Magician, my life is blah. All I want to know is where in my dreary life I

went wrong."

"You mean that's it?" Ivy asked.

"Yes. Then maybe I'll know what to do about it."

Ivy turned to Grey. "That seems simple enough."

"It isn't," he said. He glanced again at Lacuna. "I would really rather you

didn't ask it."

"Well, I don't want to cause you distress, but it seems little enough for me

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摘要：

Chapter1.LacunaLlacunawassloggingthroughabluefunk.Itclungtoherbody,makingherseemprematurelymiddle-aged.Itinfusedherclothing,makingitdowdy.Itsmirchedherface,makingwrinklesstarttothinkofappearing.Itwashedthroughherhair,rinsingitdishwaterdull.Infact,itpermeatedherwholelife,makingherthirty-fouryearsold....

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