“There are puns among us we don’t want dispatched,” Mitch said bluntly.
“May I touch you?”
Mitch was startled. “If you wish, Princess.”
Dawn stepped forward and took his hand for a moment. “Oh, my.”
“We really did not choose to come here, and do not wish to cause trouble,” Mitch said. “We--”
Dawn silenced him with a smile. “Of course.” She turned to the skeleton. “Dear, see that our guests are comfortable. We have much to discuss with a few members of this group.”
Soon Mitch, Pewter, Ease, Astrid, and Tiara were seated on comfortable chairs in the castle living room facing Princess Dawn, while Picka Bone, ably assisted by the two children, saw to the comfort of the villagers. It seemed that the castle had plenty of everything needful, whether food, drink, or elbow room.
“My talent is to know everything about any living thing I touch,” the Princess said. “I have now touched each of you, so there is no need for further introductions. Only Mitch is precisely what he seems: a man trying to help his village.”
Oh? Did she know that Astrid was a basilisk? That Tiara’s hair was a demoness? That Ease’s board was an enchanted woman?
“Yes,” Dawn said, looking directly at the board.
Kandy stifled any further thoughts she might have had.
“We had not known about the pun virus before,” the Princess continued. “We presume the Good Magician was keeping it quiet so as not to incite panic. But your recent experience shows that the time for quietude is past. Something has to be done.”
“But--” Mitch said.
“But we at Caprice are in the business of eliminating puns,” Dawn said for him. “That does not mean we hate them or want to see them all gone. It is simply that puns have been spreading so widely that they are choking off normal things, like weeds, so need to be culled. We collect them and store them, and will release them again at such time as they are needed.” She frowned, and the room seemed to darken. “Which may be sooner than we anticipated. This virus, in contrast, completely destroys them. That is quite another matter.” She smiled, and the room brightened again. “Bluntly: we are on your side. We do not support punhibition, with secret speakeasies that get raided. We will continue collecting puns, but not to destroy them; to preserve them for the future. Meanwhile the virus needs to be stopped.”
“This is a relief to hear, Princess,” Pewter said.
She laughed, and the castle seemed to laugh with her. “Whatever would Xanth do without you and Com Passion?” she asked. “The shoe trees and humble pie plants? De-Ogre-Ants that repel ogres? No, Xanth is largely made of puns. We just don’t want it to be overwhelmed by them.”
“So the villagers of Punic Curse have nothing to fear from you?” Mitch asked.
“Nothing,” Dawn agreed. “Indeed, we will care for them here until they can find a new location for your destroyed village. They have had a horrible experience.”
“We thank you, Princess,” Mitch said gratefully.
“Now the question is how can we address this menace of the virus? How can we best assist your Quest to discover the antidote?”
A despairing look passed among them and fell to the floor. None of them had any idea.
“I think we will set our pun collectors to searching for that antidote too,” Dawn said. “While your Quest continues. Is there anything we can provide you that will facilitate your mission?”
“Just information,” Ease said. “The Good Magician said to merge the hair. Do you have any idea what he meant?”
“Surely not the way the Demoness Metria has done with Tiara’s hair,” Dawn said. “He can’t stand Metria. It must be some other person’s hair.” She glanced at Mitch. “That might be you. You should join the Quest.”
“Me? I’m just the village master of ceremonies, assisting the mare.” He grimaced. “That did not work out well today.”
“No fault of yours. Your village just happened to be in the path of the invading virus. What is remarkable about you is not your talent so much as your hair. I’ve never seen hair on a man quite like it.”
“It’s nothing compared to Tiara’s hair. Hers is fascinating, when not tied down by the demoness. I envy it.”
“You do?” Tiara asked, pleased.
“What’s so unusual about it?” Ease asked.
Dawn smiled. “Mitch, perhaps you should take off your shirt.”
“What does that have to do with his hair?” Astrid asked.
Mitch shrugged. “If you say so.” He drew up his hair shirt and pulled it off over his head. He let it drop. It did not fall; it hung there from his head.
“Your shirt is your hair!” Tiara exclaimed.
“It’s so long and thick it gets in my way,” Mitch said. “Sometimes folk mistake me for a woman. So I try to make it useful. Yours, in contrast, is magic. That’s much better.”
“I don’t mistake you for a woman,” Tiara said.
“The question is whose hair is to be merged, and how,” Dawn said. “None of you know that, so I don’t know it either. But the Good Magician, however grumpy and obscure he may seem, is always correct. It has to be relevant in some manner. It could be Tiara’s hair, but it also could be Mitch’s hair. Since we don’t know, the sensible thing is for you to join the Quest, Mitch, so as to be there when it counts—if it turns out to be your hair.”
“I might think of ways I’d like to merge with Tiara,” Mitch said. “But I wasn’t thinking of our hair.” He started plaiting his hair back into the shirt. His fingers worked rapidly; it seemed he had done this many times before.
“Good thing, too,” Tiara’s hair said while Tiara blushed. She had not yet been educated about the secrets of the Adult Conspiracy, but she was evidently getting a notion. Kandy realized that having the demoness around was likely to hasten that education considerably.
“Well, think about it,” Dawn said. “Now I must go to be sure our other guests are satisfied.” She got up and departed.
“She’s giving us a change to discuss it among ourselves,” Astrid said. “There does seem to be a good chance that Mitch’s hair relates. Maybe he should join us.”
“If he does, I’ll go!” Tiara’s hair threatened.
“Is that a promise?” Mitch asked.
“Oh, manipulate!” Metria said, separating from the hair to float as a dark little cloud over Tiara’s head.
“Oh, what?” Tiara asked.
“Circumvent, sidestep, avoid, cheat, hedge, chocolate--”
“Fudge?”
“Whatever,” the demoness agreed crossly. “No it’s not a promise. It was supposed to be a threat, had you had the wit to take it as such.”
“If the members of the Quest want me, I’ll join,” Mitch said as he pulled his new shirt on over his head. When it settled into place it was hardly evident that it was made from his own hair. He was indeed making it useful.
“I want you!” Tiara said eagerly.
Mitch nodded. Her interest was sparking his interest.
“I second the motion,” Astrid said. “You are a talented, useful person who well might help us accomplish our purpose.”
“Well,” Ease started. Then Kandy, concluding that she liked Mitch, prompted him. “I third it.”
That left Pewter. “Mitch acted to get us here when I was failing. That will do for me.”
“Very well, then,” Mitch said. “I will join, and help in whatever way I can.” He stroked Tiara’s wild hair. “I hope you can keep the demoness out of your hair, however.”
“Corpulent gamble!” Metria said, diving for the hair. In half a moment it was conventionally coiffed.
“Maybe that’s the point of merging the hair,” Astrid said. “To get rid of the demoness.”
“I heard that!” the hair said.
The others laughed. They might not be able to get rid of Metria, but they could tease her.
“But we still need to find the virus antidote,” Pewter reminded
them.
“I have no idea how to do that,” Mitch said.
“None of us do,” Astrid said. “But if it does happen to be your hair to be merged, you’ll surely do your part.”
“I will do my best.”
“I wonder,” Tiara said. “Can you weave your hair into a blanket?”
“Oh, I do that all the time, at night. It’s warm.”
“For two?”
He looked at her. “If your hair joined it, they might even make a bouncy mattress.”
“Yes,” she whispered, blushing furiously.
“Oh, for bawling out deafeningly!” Metria said.
Princess Dawn returned. “The villagers are satisfied. Caprice Castle will drop them off at a safe place to make a new village. Will you be joining them, Mitch?”
“I fear I will not,” Mitch said. “I am joining the Quest.”
“Then you folk will want to stay the night, to rest, before you go to your next Event in the morning.”
“That makes sense,” Pewter said. “I am recovering, but could use more rest.”
The others agreed. They were on the verge of relaxing when the two children, Piton and Data, appeared. “The virus is outside,” Piton said.
“Oh, bleep!” Pewter swore. “I’m not ready for it.”
“Do not be concerned,” Dawn said. “Caprice is a traveling castle. It will simply move to a safe place before we let anyone out. You may relax.”
Even Kandy felt relieved by that.
“I must go bid parting to the others and the mare,” Mitch said.
“I’ll go with you,” Tiara said.
The two departed. “I wish I could find a man like that,” Astrid said. “I mean one who could handle my fundamental nature as he handles hers.”
“I’d be glad to hold my breath and handle you,” Ease said. “Especially with your sequins off.”
What he cared about was her bra and panties. He was a typical man, hardly able to see farther than the moment. Kandy was disgusted, yet also intrigued. She could make him handle her body, but it did neither of them much good.
“Thank you,” Astrid said. “But you couldn’t hold it long enough.”
“And I couldn’t gaze into your eyes,” he agreed. Horribly true.
“Have we discussed recent developments with everyone?” Astrid asked.
There was two thirds of an awkward silence. Then Pewter said “Ease sleeps.”
Ease lay down on the nearest bed and slept. Pewter might be in a weakened state, but this was incidental magic. Kandy animated. “Thank you.”
“How do you feel about adding Mitch to the Quest?” Astrid asked her. “We shouldn’t have voted without you.”
“What choice did you have?” Kandy asked. “Actually I did vote. I prompted Ease. Mitch is taking Tiara’s attention, and that makes one less pretty girl to take Ease’s attention.”
“How is that relevant?” Pewter asked.
Astrid laughed. “You would have to be a woman to understand that. Ease is destined for Kandy, somehow, somewhen.”
“I don’t even understand Com Passion,” Pewter complained. That was his girlfriend, a rather nice machine with similar powers of persuasion.
Kandy laughed. “No male really understands any female. Let’s play chess.”
They played, explaining the game to Astrid, chatting incidentally. It was fun being friends. When Mitch and Tiara returned Ease woke, Kandy reverted, but the chessboard remained. Astrid took over in Kandy’s place. It was too early to tell Mitch about Kandy.
But the larger question remained: the pun virus menace was growing. How could they find the antidote in time to save Xanth from the horror they had seen at Punic Curse?
Chapter 6:
Centaur
In the morning they bid parting to Princess Dawn, Picka Bone, and the children Piton and Data, who were in transition: his bottom half and her top half were skeletal, the rest fleshly. They evidently had fun with variants.
The members of the Quest drew in close, while the Bone family watched. Tiara removed a sequin from Astrid’s dress. Kandy saw Picka’s eye sockets flash with appreciation, and the children loved the change in the cloth. Then, before Ease or Mitch could freak out from the view beyond the translucency, Tiara put the sequin back on.
They were standing in a pleasant pavilion. Kandy suspected that the Bone family was surprised to discover them so suddenly gone, though they had known what was going to happen. Event transitions occurred instantly, with no special effects, somewhat the way Caprice Castle traveled.
A handsome red-haired, red hided centaur stepped up to meet them. “Hello, travelers,” he said. “I am Chase Centaur, liaison, and this is the Centaur Isle receiving center. Please identify yourselves and explain the nature of your visit.”
Well, the centaurs were nothing if not efficient. Kandy had never been here before, and she suspected that the same was true for the others.
INTRODUCE THEM Kandy prompted Ease.
“I am Ease, and these are Astrid Basilisk, Com Pewter, Tiara, and Mitch,” Ease said. “We are on a Quest for the Good Magician to locate and invoke the anti-dote to nullify the anti-pun virus so that puns shall not perish from Xanth.”
Centaurs were known to be a magnitude smarter than humans, and two magnitudes more rational, but Chase was evidently taken aback. “A Quest to salvage puns? Surely you jest.”
“No,” Astrid said. “Xanth is largely made of puns, and if they are abolished Xanth will be little better than drear Mundania. The puns must be saved.”
“And you are a transformed basilisk? Why are you even associating with normal humans, let alone assisting them? Why are you shading your baleful gaze?”
“I am seeking a better life than killing other creatures,” Astrid said evenly. “Also better companionship. I have friends here, whom I wish to help, not hurt, and I appreciate the threat to Xanth. Don’t you?”
Chase evaded the question. “Nevertheless, we do not want your kind on Centaur Isle for any reason. Basilisks are dangerous. You must depart forthwith.”
This could be mischief. The virus did not seem to be here yet. Could Pewter risk pausing the firewall and using his magic?
“Centaur changes mind,” Pewter murmured.
Evidently so.
“However, considering--” Chase broke off, turning on Pewter. “Did you just practice magic on me? We centaurs detest magic on our persons. Kindly keep your unclean talent off me. You are out of your bailiwick, animate machine.”
Kandy remembered: regular centaurs, as opposed to flying centaurs, regarded magic as unclean, somewhat like poop, and treated it as a necessary evil. They were quite open about natural functions, like pooping, but avoided personal magic. That was why the winged centaurs had been banished from their society: they had obvious magic.
“We are on a Quest,” Pewter said. “As citizens of Xanth you are bound to assist us in whatever way you can, regardless of our membership in the human culture. You know that.”
Chase ground his teeth with an audible crunching sound. “We do know that. We also understand the need to preserve at least some puns, abysmal as they may be. But we don’t like it.”
“So we understand each other,” Pewter said evenly. “Will you help?”
“There are constraints. Even Quests must pay their way.”
“Of course,” Pewter said. “You are obliged to offer a fair and compatible deal.” Pewter evidently knew all about Centaur conventions. It occurred to Kandy that Pewter’s contribution to the Quest might relate more to his intellect than his magic.
“We have an elder historian who may be able to offer insight. We also have a difficulty that your group might alleviate.”
“Historical?” Mitch asked. “The pun virus menace is not in the past, it is now.”
“Caution,” Pewter said. “Centaurs have perspective beyond that of most humans. They don’t much like puns, me included, but they understand them well enough. Their historian should have useful i
nsights.”
Chase nodded, marginally mollified. “True. Do you accede to the deal?”
“Now wait,” Mitch protested. “We don’t know what they want. It may be unreasonable.”
“Caution again,” Pewter said. “Centaurs do not practice unreason. The deal is fair.”
“I’ve heard that,” Tiara said, putting a hand on Mitch’s arm. Mitch shut his mouth. The two had met only recently, but already she had power to pacify him.
“But regardless,” Ease said, “we do need to know what is expected of us. What is difficult for a centaur might be impossible for us.”
“Your point is well taken,” Chase said. “Though we do not practice magic ourselves, we do avail ourselves of it on occasion. In this case we queried a human foreseer, who informed us that while no centaur could accomplish the task, and no individual human, the members of a Quest would be able to handle it. Further, that a Quest would arrive at the correct time. You would seem to be that Quest. So we wish to make a deal with you, assured that both parties will be satisfied.”
Ease opened his mouth to protest that the task still had not been clarified, but Kandy stifled him. ACCEPT.
“We agree,” Ease said, seeing the way of it.
“Then enjoy our hospitality while we contact key parties,” Chase said, and galloped off.
Another centaur stepped forward. This was a buxom female with lustrous brown hair curling down around her shoulders. Both Mitch and Ease looked at her bare chest, not freaking out but considering it.
“I am Curvia Centaur,” she said. “I will be your hostess for the duration. What refreshments would you like?”
Both Mitch and Ease made an effort to speak, but so much energy was going to their eyes that there was not enough left for their mouths.
“Thank you,” Astrid said. “We will be glad to take your standard fare.”
That turned out to be excellent. They dined on homemade blackberry pizza served with carrot wine.
“I have been locked in a tower most of my life,” Tiara said. “I have heard of the centaurs but never interacted with them before. May I ask some questions?”
“Of course,” Curvia said graciously.
“I have heard that you don’t much like magic. But Xanth is a magic land, and there must have been some magic in the origin of your species. How do you handle it?”