“But Nimbus doesn’t glow,” Chlorine said.
“Yes he does. He—” Ilene, abashed again, went silent.
Chlorine looked at Debra. “Glow?”
“He does,” Debra said. “Even Wira can see it.”
Chlorine looked at Nimby, but the dragon avoided her gaze. “So it’s like that,” she said, frowning. “And I thought he was merely named after his father. I wonder what else I don’t know about him.” She looked again at the dragon, who still avoided her gaze.
“We didn’t mean to make any trouble,” Wira said.
“We’ll settle this later,” Chlorine said grimly to the dragon. Then she returned to Ilene. “You want to visit. If Nimbus is interested—”
The boy ran across to hug Ilene.
Chlorine nodded. “So it shall be. We’ll give you a magic air pass that will bring you here any time you invoke it. It will be good for Nimbus to have a friend.” She glanced at Nimby again, and this time the dragon wiggled an ear. A piece of paper appeared in the air, floating down to fall into Ilene’s surprised hand. “Do not share it; it is for you alone. Now I believe Nimbus wants to show you the punnery.”
“The punnery?” Ilene asked blankly.
“It is where all the really bad puns are sent, so they won’t appall innocent folk. Nimbus loves to play with them.” She grimaced. “It’s a job to clean him up afterward. There’s nothing quite so smelly as a squished pun, especially when he gets it in his hair.”
“Ugh!” Ilene said as the boy caught her hand and dragged her off to a corner of the garden.
“Have some of this potato,” Nimbus told Ilene.
She looked at it suspiciously. “Are you sure this is potato? It doesn’t smell very good.”
“It’s potato, I swear. It’s served at banquets.”
“All right.” Ilene touched her tongue to it. “Yuck! It’s awful.”
“It’s potato ogre rotten. Served at ogre fests.”
“That’s not funny!”
The boy looked woeful. “I’m sorry. Let’s watch the race.”
“The race?”
“The E race. See here are the e-racers. See which one wipes out more scenery.”
The cars looked like blocks of rubber. As they moved they left trails of smeared nothingness. “Erasers,” Ilene said, getting it.
Debra smiled. Ilene seemed to have shamed the boy into behaving. For a while.
Chlorine turned to Wira. “And what would you like?”
“I just want to find and rescue Hugo.”
“There is no need. Call home.” She produced a magic hand mirror.
“But I can’t use a mirror,” Wira protested.
“Then I will do it.” Chlorine faced the mirror. “The Gorgon, please.”
In a moment the Gorgon’s snake-framed veiled face appeared in the mirror; Debra saw her. “Oh, Chlorine,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
“You can tell Wira about Hugo.”
The Gorgon’s gaze went to Wira. “It’s true, Wira. My son has been rescued. He’s looking for you. He was in the Random Factor’s cell.”
“The Random Factor!” Debra exclaimed involuntarily.
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Wira said. “That’s all I want.”
“Becka Dragongirl will carry him back here tomorrow. I’m sure he’s eager to rejoin you.”
“Oh, yes!”
“Thank you,” Chlorine said to the Gorgon, and the mirror went blank. “So you must ask some other favor.”
“But there’s nothing else I want.”
“How about your lost sight?”
“We just said I was looking for that, so folk wouldn’t know we were looking for Hugo. I never actually—”
Chlorine glanced at Nimby. He wiggled an ear.
Wira screamed and clapped her hands to her face.
Chlorine plucked a cloth out of nowhere and dropped it over Wira’s head. “I apologize. I forgot that sight would be alarming to someone who isn’t used to it. But you can cover your eyes and learn to use them gradually, at your own pace.”
“She really can see now?” Debra asked, amazed.
“She really can. I trust you will continue to help her until she gets used to vision.”
“Oh yes, of course!”
“Now what about you, Debra?”
“Oh, I don’t need anything.”
“What, nothing?”
“Nothing possible, anyway.”
“This threatens to be interesting. Tell us your story.”
“Oh no, it really doesn’t—” The dragon wiggled an ear, and suddenly Debra knew she had to tell all completely everything without reservation. That dragon was weird, and not just because of his ridiculous head.
Debra told everything, from her appearance in Xanth to the present. It just poured out of her. “So you see, it’s hopeless love,” she concluded. “I can’t be with him without destroying him, and that’s the last thing I want. Not even if I were of age.”
“And if you don’t get to him, in time you may be abolished yourself,” Chlorine said.
“Yes, I think so. I’m not sure I’m really real. I think they just modeled me after a thirteen-year-old Mundane girl and gave me the bra curse. I exist to trap him, and I can’t stand to do that.”
“We don’t like to interfere in the ongoing history of Xanth,” Chlorine said. “But we can do this much: we can make you real. Then the Factory won’t be able to abolish you. The rest of your adventure you will have to work out yourself.”
“Make me real?” Debra asked numbly.
“Yes. Nimby did it for Grundy Golem, and later in effect for Umlaut, who married Grundy’s daughter Surprise. Of course you could still be killed, so don’t be careless.”
“I won’t be careless,” Debra said, somehow unable to doubt the truth of the statement.
The dragon wiggled an ear. Debra felt something weird and wonderful infuse her, and knew that she was indeed real. She seemed to be floating on a sea of amazement.
“I feel—more mature,” she said in wonder.
“Nimby made you a real eighteen-year-old girl, apart from your transformation to winged centaur form,” Chlorine explained.
“But I’m only thirteen!”
“Nimby advanced the model. It was as easy to make you be of age as it would have been to make you underage. There was no need to make you wait five years in frustration.”
Debra was amazed. She looked at Wira. “Is this possible?”
“Oh, yes,” Wira said. “Believe it.”
“Who is Nimby? Or what is he?”
“Now it is time for you to go,” Chlorine said. “Wira wants to get back together with Hugo.” She faced the punnery. “Nimbus! Ilene has to go now.”
“Awww,” the boy said, from a stand of wormwood trees. The long wooden worms were standing upright, forming a small forest.
Ilene turned to face them. Her mouth had disappeared, leaving her teeth bare.
“Oh, he tricked you into trying that shade lipstick,” Chlorine said. “That’s strictly for ghosts.” She held up the mirror so the girl could see.
“Eeeek!” Ilene screamed with four e’s, which was pretty good for a girl her age. Nimbus rolled on the ground with laughter at his joke.
“Cold cream will take it off,” Chlorine said, producing a bottle of cream with icicles on it.
Ilene accepted it gratefully and poured out a frozen cube. She rubbed that across her lips, and they came back into sight.
Debra trotted over to pick her up. “Horsefeathers!” a loud voice said, startling her. It seemed that some of the plants could talk, at least in the punnery.
Sure enough, there was more. “Get thee to a punnery!” the voice said as she passed. She didn’t answer, knowing it was a pun on nunnery, which was in turn sometimes a crude name for a Mundane house of ill repute. These puns were not only thick, they were obnoxious. Which was of course why they were confined here. Her new maturity gave her adult understanding of such thi
ngs.
Necessary confinement? Like the Random Factor, only for different reasons. She might be real now, but she still had to stay away from him—and feared she could not, for already her love was making her long for his company. Her change of age had not changed that. Her love was, if anything, even more thorough now. She was no longer a girl; she was a woman.
Ilene mounted. “Thanks,” she said. “Watch your step!”
Too late. Debra had already put a hoof on a low-lying pun. Now the thing was squished all over her foot. She tried to scrape it off, but foul pieces of it clung, while the boy laughed some more. Boys did find that sort of mishap hilarious.
“Actually, the punnery is a lot of fun,” Ilene said. “As long as you are careful.”
“I’m sure it is,” Debra agreed tightly.
Back in the center of the court, she picked up Wira, and was escorted out of the Nameless Castle. Wira still had the cloth over her head.
Once they were safely airborne, Debra posed the question again: “Who are those people? How do they rate a floating castle to themselves? How can they grant magic favors to passing folk, and collect atrocious puns for their garden? And what is with the idiotic donkey-headed dragon she says is her husband?”
“Some time back,” Wira said, “the Demon Xanth, from whom all of our magic leaks, indulged in a wager with other Demons. He assumed the form of a dragon ass, and was allowed to speak only once. Thereafter he had to win a single tear of love or grief from a mortal who did not know his nature. That mortal turned out to be Chlorine, who was neither lovely nor smart, but knew what she lacked. He gave her that, and they traveled together, and in time she did shed her last remaining tear for him. That freed him and gave him the victory. He had fallen in love with her, so he married her, and they took over the Nameless Castle, which was vacant at the time. Now they remain largely clear of mortal business, but on occasion help out folk who don’t know their natures.”
“The Demon Xanth,” Debra said. “I never suspected!”
“Precisely.”
“But you knew; that’s why you took Glow—I mean, Nimbus—there.”
“Yes. He might be kidnapped or harmed if others knew his identity. I had to get him to the safety of his home.”
“Why can’t Chlorine see his glow?”
“She wanted an ordinary child. Nimby cheated, so concealed it from her.”
“Nimby. That’s an odd name for an odd creature.”
“It stands for Not In My Back Yard. He doesn’t have to keep that form, but likes it because he had it when he met Chlorine. She organizes things, but the power is all his.”
“And now you can see, and I’m real and of age, and Ilene has a pass to visit anytime.”
“Sometimes it pays to do the right thing.”
“So it seems,” Debra agreed. “But my dilemma remains. Real or unreal, I don’t want to hurt the Factor.”
“You know the love you feel is a product of the enchantment. It did not come naturally.”
“I know. I was shameless in approaching him. I don’t wear panties, so I flashed him with my bra. I laughed so he could see my breasts bounce. I did everything I could to make him desire me, my age no inhibition. I’m not like that in real life. I think.”
“And it seems it worked. He does desire you.”
“He kissed me, and everything changed. After that, age, species, and mission didn’t matter. We just want to be together.”
“That’s so romantic,” Ilene said.
“It’s the trap,” Debra said. “I’ll destroy him if we come together again, and we can’t stay apart.”
“There are antilove spells on the Good Magician’s shelves,” Wira said. “All you have to do is drink one vial and you’ll be out of love.”
“No!”
“But it will solve your problem.”
“No it won’t. I’ll still be determined to find him and destroy him. Only my love for him holds me back. I don’t want to give it up.”
“That’s so romantic,” Ilene repeated.
“We had better return you to your home,” Wira said to the girl. “Before we return to the Good Magician’s Castle.”
“I suppose so,” Ilene agreed. “It’s been a great adventure.”
Debra flew to the girl’s house. Her parents weren’t there at the moment, but it was no problem; Ilene was safe there. “Thank you so much!” she said as she dismounted. “I hope someday I have a love like yours. Either one of yours.”
“You’re welcome,” Debra replied, halfway bemused. She had love, yes, but it was sadly conflicted.
They set off for the castle. “I apologize,” Wira said as they flew. “I wasn’t thinking. I wouldn’t take a potion to wash out my love for Hugo, no matter how convenient it might seem.”
“That’s all right. At least you’ll soon be back together with him.”
“Soon,” Wira agreed. “For the first time I’ll be able to see him.”
Debra laughed, the action reminding her of the Factor for some obscure reason. “I hope you like what you see.”
“I know I will. It will be a challenge, learning to use my eyes. I’ll probably keep them closed most of the time, at first, to make it easier.”
“And one of your first solid sights will be of him.”
“Oh, yes!”
“It’s ironic, that the make-believe quest succeeded before your real one. You weren’t really looking for sight, so to speak.”
“One must be careful what she asks for,” Wira agreed. “You weren’t looking for maturity.”
“All because we helped a lost boy we chanced to encounter.”
“I am not certain it was chance. The clue led us to the air plain, where he was. It may be that the Book of Answers knew that Hugo was somehow associated with the lost boy.”
“That seems horribly far-fetched.”
“Answers sometimes do seem that way, yet always make sense in the end. It may be that I needed to regain my sight in order to rescue Hugo.”
“But he rescued himself, and is on the way back. All you had to do was wait for him.”
“That is odd,” Wira said thoughtfully. “I’ve never known an Answer to be irrelevant.”
“Maybe the scrambling got the Book confused.”
“Or maybe it isn’t over yet. That makes me nervous.”
That in turn made Debra nervous. Her own situation was complicated enough without Wira’s complicating also.
In the afternoon they arrived back at the Good Magician’s Castle. The Gorgon welcomed them. “The dragongirl should be here soon with Hugo. She flies swiftly.” She turned to Debra. “And you can return to your natural form, with our appreciation for your help. The Good Magician has made progress reorganizing the Book of Answers; he may be able to give you your Answer now.”
Debra was suddenly excited. “To get rid of my curse?” For that might make her able to be with the Factor without ending his freedom.
“Of course, dear. But first the counterspell.” She fetched a vial from a dingy shelf. “Drink this.”
Debra did. Immediately she started changing and shrinking as the several parts of her compacted to her smaller human form. In no more than two and a half moments she stood before them, bare. She was, indeed, more fully formed than she had been as a girl.
“Oh!” she said, suddenly self-conscious. She felt quite exposed without her wings.
“We have many outfits,” the Gorgon said. “Each wife maintains her own wardrobe. I’ll adjust one of mine.”
“Thank you,” Debra said faintly.
It required some taking in, for the Gorgon was considerably more shapely than Debra, but soon she had a passable outfit, complete with a hat in the form of a coiled snake with attached veil. It dipped a bit too low in front, and showed too much thigh, but was better than being bare. It was good to be herself again, though emotionally she knew she would never be the same as she had been. Love had transformed her, and as yet she could not be sure it was for the better.<
br />
The Good Magician, however, wasn’t yet ready to try for her Answer, so she continued as a guest of the castle, feeling a bit out of sorts. Fortunately there was a bowl of sorts on the kitchen table; they were like chocolate bits, neatly sorted. The Gorgon was an excellent hostess, and Debra felt quite at home that evening, and for the night she had her own room. Meanwhile she was getting used to her own original body again.
It took her a while to sleep, but that was all right; she daydreamed naughtily of the Random Factor. How she wished that could be real!
Then she fell asleep, continuing the dream. She was in bed with him, eager to do whatever the Adult Conspiracy forbade by day. Could it be bypassed in the dream realm? She intended to find out.
And suddenly she was out of the dream and out of sleep, but she couldn’t remember why. It seemed the Adult Conspiracy had abruptly clamped down, erasing whatever had been about to happen. “Bleep!” she muttered.
The worst of it was that in her dream she had forgotten that she was now of age, so the Conspiracy no longer applied. She could have been completely naughty without guilt. Well, she would not make that mistake again.
It took her some time to get back to sleep, and this time she didn’t dream of him. Bleep!
They expected Hugo in the morning, arriving by air, but the first to arrive was a pair of clouds, borne by a favorable wind. They coalesced and formed into the solid forms of Happy Bottom and Fray.
“I saw you coming,” the Gorgon said. “I have a hurricane watch.” She showed the watch on her wrist: a circle with an arrow pointing toward Happy.
“I haven’t been a hurricane in years,” Happy said. “Now I’m just a dull married cloud, a misty spot low-pressure zone dependent on the wind instead of making it.”
“But you still have the potential to rev up to hurricane status,” the Gorgon said.
“If I ever have to. But that takes a lot of energy. The glory of hurricanes tends to be brief and seasonal.”
“What brings you here?”
“We were going to check Castle Maidragon,” Fray said brightly. “In case Daddy is there. But the wind took us here instead.”
“We hope you don’t mind,” Happy Bottom said.
“We don’t mind,” Wira said. “We have learned that Hugo was there at Castle Maidragon, not Fracto. He’s on his way home now.”