She resumed progress. Soon she came to a sign saying BEWARE OF BARES. Surely that should be spelled BEARS?
She rode on. The path led to a village where everyone seemed to be bare. It was a nudist colony! No wonder there was a warning. The Adult Conspiracy prevented children from seeing unclothed people, so the sign was there to warn them. It wasn’t a physical danger, so the path’s enchantment did not bar it. Wenda wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with a child seeing a bare person, but of course the Adult Conspiracy did not consult with ignorant nymphs like her.
In due course she reached the brink of the Gap Chasm. It was every bit as impressive and intimidating as she remembered. The path went up to the very verge of the brink and stopped. She knew there was an invisible bridge continuing on across the gulf, but she couldn’t see it. In any event, she didn’t want the bridge; she needed to go down inside the chasm to find and fetch the Knot.
And suddenly it struck her, not physically—she was after all still on the enchanted path—but emotionally. What had she gotten herself into? How could she ever tote a boulder of virtual stone that weighed more than she did up out of the awesome gulf? Without anyone else knowing? It was impossible! Whatever had she been thinking of, when she volunteered to do this? She was plainly incompetent. She knew she would mess it up badly if she even tried.
There was only one thing to do: go back and tell the Good Magician she had changed her mind. Or at least realized her limitation. He would have to get someone else to do it, someone with the necessary guts and muscle.
She turned the bike around and started back. Only at this point did she see the dark floating blob of fog that had surely been following her. Fracto! Cumulo Fracto Nimbus, the worst of clouds, always looking to rain on someone’s parade. He must have thought to catch her just as she climbed laboriously down into the Gap Chasm, so he could drench her when she was helpless. She had run afoul of him before.
The moment Fracto saw that she saw him, he puffed up hugely and intensified. He sent a cold wet draft of wind down at her. He was angry that she had spied him before he could spring his trap, so now he was going to really soak her. She had to get under cover in a hurry.
She rode the bike as fast as she possibly could, zooming down the path right toward the cloud. There was a campground not far along; she had passed it not long ago.
The storm moved to intercept her, gusting low. This was going to be close. She ducked her head and forged through the early winds, trying to win through before the rain came.
She almost made it. She saw the camp, and its covered shelter, and zoomed right at it without slowing. But the rain caught her just before she got there. In a quarter of a moment she was drenched, her clothing plastered to her body.
She reached the shelter and jammed on the brakes, but they were wet and slipped, and a mean gust of wind whipped her skirt up almost over her head, exposing her panties, and pushed her forward. She veered away before she crashed, lost control, and skidded into the side of the shelter. “Oh!” she cried as she landed. The bicycle slid on past, dumping her unceremoniously by the shelter. She couldn’t even see, because there was splash in her eyes.
Then hands were on her, helping her get under cover. Who was it? She hadn’t seen anyone. Suppose it was a man, seeing her in such soaking dishabille? What mortification!
“You’re safe now,” a dulcet voice said. “But I fear you have some scratches.”
It was a woman! Wenda was so relieved. “Thank you.”
“That’s all right. I saw you racing to beat the storm. I was lucky; I flew down here before it caught me.”
Flew? Wenda wiped the wet from her eyes, blinked two and a half times, and looked.
It was a winged mermaid. “Oh!” she repeated, startled.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disgruntle you. I do surprise people who first meet me.”
“That’s all right,” Wenda said. “I’m a magical creature myself, or I was until recently. I have met more than one mermaid. But never a winged one.”
“We’re rather rare,” the maid agreed. “I am Meryl Winged Mermaid. But let’s get those sopping clothes off you before you shiver to death.”
Wenda realized that she was indeed shivering; the rain was icy cold, and her clothing was clinging frigidly. Fracto had scored on her. “I am Wenda Wouldwife,” she said, just before remembering that she was supposed to be anonymous. Well, maybe it didn’t matter; she wasn’t going to fetch the Knot anyway. “Thank you.”
“You’re a woodwife?” Meryl asked as she efficiently helped Wenda strip. “You don’t seem hollow.”
“Not anymore,” Wenda agreed. “I turned real when I found love and married Prince Charming.”
“You married a prince? Then you’re a princess!”
Oops, again. Any chance at anonymity had been banished. Wenda was turning out to be not much at secrets. “It’s a long story,” she said ruefully.
“Tell me!” Meryl said. “I’m sure it’s more interesting than my story.”
Wenda took her first really good look at her companion. Meryl’s wings were like those of a butterfly, shifting colors iridescently as they moved. She had dark red eyes and bright red hair flowing down to her waist. Her tail was the most splendid of all: it seemed to change color with her moods, shimmering pearly white to deep green and blues, wine reds to dark blacks. Overall, she was an astonishingly lovely creature. “Oh, I do not believe that,” Wenda said, surprising herself yet again with her accent. She would have to have that spell nullified, as she no longer needed it.
Meryl wrapped a warm blanket around her. “Believe it. Mine is simply told: my father, Foremost Fairy, was negotiating with goblins when they attacked him. He escaped, but was badly injured, so he flew to a healing spring and plunged in. Only it turned out to be a love spring. Unhealed, he lost consciousness and floated down the stream, where he was rescued by Meriel Mermaid. She not only nursed him back to health, she became my mother. Now I’m questing across the countryside, looking for something, though I don’t know what.”
“A winged merman?” Wenda asked.
“That too,” Meryl agreed with a third of a smile. “Now what’s your story?”
“I was a wouldwife, hollow behind, about to be raped by a village lout when a giant spider appeared and rescued me. I helped him learn to talk the human dialect. We became friends. By the time our adventure was over, I had found Prince Charming, who—”
“Prince Charming! He was saved by a mermaid, just like my father.”
Wenda realized that this was a story a mermaid naturally would know. “Yes. But she decided not to marry him, so I did. That made me real.” She felt herself blushing. “He likes my hind side.”
“I can imagine,” Meryl agreed. “Father still likes Mother’s. It’s the way men are.”
Wenda was feeling a certain camaraderie. “Yes.”
“So why aren’t you with him now?”
“I had these violent mood changes he had trouble handling. So I went to the Good Magician, and learned it was the Mood Swing. That’s a swing in the castle. Now I know to be wary of it. But I still have a service to perform. Or I did.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“I don’t think I should say. It’s supposed to be secret.”
“Oh, of course,” Meryl said, hurt.
That twisted Wenda’s gizzard. She liked the woman, and wanted to be her friend. “I suppose I could tell you, if you promise to keep the secret.”
“I do, I do!” the winged mermaid said eagerly.
“It’s to fetch a big not of petrified would and bring it to the Good Magician, who can take care of it.”
“A big what?”
“A big not of would.” Then Wenda realized what she had said. “The spell—it stops me from using the forest dialect. I can’t say not. I mean, a bolus, a mass of would. I mean the stuff from a tree.”
“You can’t say knot or wood?”
“That’s what I can’t say,” Wenda agreed. ?
??Or a buzzing be, or morning do, or a you tree.”
“You poor thing!”
“No, it’s necessary, because I would give myself away if I said those words my way. It just didn’t occur to me that I would need them.”
Meryl nodded. “Spells can have unanticipated consequences. You can get your dialect back after your mission is done.”
“But I don’t think I can do it.”
“Because you’re petrified!” Meryl said.
“Actually, no. I can handle would. But the thing weighs almost as much as the two of us together, and it’s down in the Gap Chasm. I just do not see how I could ever get it out.”
Meryl nodded. “I see the problem. It’s funny that he gave you that mission.”
“I’m just not the woman he thought I was,” Wenda said sadly. “I’m sorry to disappoint him, but its better just to confess it and let him find a better person.”
“He must have had a reason. I’ve heard he always knows what he’s doing.”
“Well, he blundered this time.”
Fracto had given up the chase, being unable to get into the shelter. The sky was clear, but evening was approaching. They foraged for pies and boot rear for supper. Wenda liked boot rear, because its mild effect reminded her of her husband. He liked to spank her gently.
“I wonder whether the Good Magician could tell me what I’m looking for,” Meryl said as they ate.
“Suppose he blundered?”
“You’ve got a point. I’ll stay away from him.”
They slept side by side in the shelter. Wenda realized how much she had missed the companionship of the people she had traveled with the year before. Certainly she loved Prince Charming, and there were servants galore; she was seldom alone. But they weren’t friends. It wasn’t the same.
In the morning they got up, swam in the small lake, and washed. Meryl was a good swimmer. She folded her wings back tightly and used her hands and tail. Instead of wading back out, she spread her wings and flew. Walking was not for her, obviously.
They dried and dressed. Wenda’s clothing was dry and not much the worse for wear, to her relief. Meryl’s clothing was a sort of vest that covered her nice bosom, and a skirt that covered her tail. When she propped herself on her tail, the skirt settled to the ground all around, making her look human. The same thing happened when she sat on a chair.
“But I feel best when I’m bare,” Meryl said.
“You’re prettiest bare,” Wenda agreed.
“Yes. But human men tend to stare.”
“At least you don’t freak them out with panties.”
“But my front sometimes freaks them. So I can go bare only when I’m alone, or with women. I was so relieved when you turned out to be female; it would have been awkward with a boy.”
“Yes. They have eyes.”
“And hands,” Meryl agreed. They both laughed, understanding each other perfectly.
They shared a greenberry pie and milkweed pods for breakfast, chatting, getting to know each other. They had things in common, being rare creatures.
“I think I know what I want in life,” Meryl said. “I want to accomplish something significant and beneficial to Xanth. Then I could settle down with my winged merman, if I can find him.”
“What significant thing?”
“That’s the problem: I have no idea. Just something. Maybe like your mission to fetch the Knot, though I don’t know how I could help.”
“I don’t know either,” Wenda said. “If I thought I could do it, I’d be happy to have you along. But it’s beyond me.”
“Well, if you should change your mind, summon me, and I’ll come and help any way I can.”
“Summon you?”
“Father gave me a bag of tokens I could invoke to summon him when I got lost or tired,” Meryl explained. “Now that I’m grown, they can be used similarly to summon me. Here’s one.” She gave Wenda a small green disk. “Just bite it, and I will feel it and know where you are. It may take me a little while to fly there, but I’ll come.”
“Thank you,” Wenda said, touched. But she feared she would never have occasion to use it.
They hugged, kissed, and separated, stifling tears. Their friendship was new and brief, but it filled a gap in Wenda’s outlook and she valued it. Wenda rode her bike south, while Meryl flew east across the forest. It was sweet sorrow.
* * *
“You what?” Rose and Wira demanded, aghast.
“I can’t do the mission,” Wenda repeated. “It’s too hard for me. I need an easier one.”
“But no querent has ever done that before,” Wira said. “They always muddle through.”
“Maybe that’s why the Good Magician arranged it so I wasn’t fully committed. He knew I was inadequate.”
“Nonsense,” Rose said. “He says you’re the only one who can do it.”
“I don’t think I could even move that big would not,” Wenda said. “Let alone haul it up the side of the Gap Chasm.”
“Oh, my dear!” Wira exclaimed. “We thought you understood. You don’t have to do it alone. Nobody does a fantasy quest alone. They have Companions.”
“Companions?” Wenda asked blankly.
“Companions. The protagonist travels around, gathering a suitable number, generally five or six. Then they do most of the work while the protagonist gets most of the credit.”
“I do not think I would care to do that,” Wenda said, still wincing internally to hear her unforestly dialect. “The one who does the work should get the credit.”
“Then give it freely,” Rose said. “It’s not a rule, just common practice.”
“But I don’t know who would want to join me on so dangerous a mission. Finding five or six seems impossible.”
Wira smiled. “The Good Magician anticipated that problem. He provided a name for you to start with: Princess Ida.”
“Princess Ida!” Wenda exclaimed, astonished. “I would not have the temerity to even think of asking her! She’s an important elder citizen.”
“Then decide on one for yourself,” Rose said. “Once you have one or two, others will join you on their own. That’s the way it works.”
“But—”
“Remember how it was with Prince Jumper Spider,” Wira said. “You were one of his Companions, for his quest, and you did it on your own.”
“Jumper!” Wenda exclaimed gladly. “My best friend. I can ask him!” The thought of traveling again with Jumper buoyed her. The challenge of the mission seemed to become more manageable.
“So there you are,” Rose said. “He can surely help move the Knot.”
“Yes! When he is big he is very strong.” Then she paused. “But he’s married now. The Demoness Eris may not let him.”
Wira smiled wisely. “She has had a year of him. She may be willing to spare him for a few days while she relaxes.”
“Relaxes?”
“He’s male. You know how males are with women.”
Wenda found herself blushing. “Oh. Yes.” Of course she would never say so openly, but there were times when she wished she could go to bed with Charming and just sleep. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, just that his love tended to be more repetitively physical than hers. It was surely much the same with Jumper and Eris.
“Of course he may not be easy to find,” Rose said. “The Demoness has him hidden away.”
“I know how to find him,” Wenda said. “There’s a secret access he told me about.”
“Then you’re all right,” Wira said.
* * *
Before she knew it, Wenda found herself cycling along the enchanted path to the nearest camp. There she parked the bike, then stepped into the surrounding forest, questing for a hypno gourd. She was of course expert in plants of the forest, and quickly found one. She took the gourd, not looking into its peephole, turned it about, and looked at the opposite side, where the stem connected. There, under the stem, was a tiny window. She looked into that—
—and w
as at the splendid frozen underground realm that had once been the prison of the Demoness Eris, but was now her private estate. The palace was made of glittering ice, with stately columns, snowy roofs, and flat panes of ice for the walls. Yet somehow it wasn’t cold. That was part of the impressive magic of it.
Jumper appeared, in his giant spider form. “Wenda!” he exclaimed.
“Jumper!” she cried, embracing his two front legs.
“I’m so glad to have you visit,” he said. “I miss you and the other Companions.”
“It is not an innocent visit,” she said. “I would not deceive you about that. I—”
“Wenda, are you ill?”
“No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Your dialect. You’re not saying wood, or knot, or yew. It’s startling.”
Oh. “No, the Good Magician gave me a potion to reverse my accent, so as not to give myself away. You see, I’m on a secret mission.”
“But aren’t you married to Prince Charming?”
“Yes. That’s how it started. But I swung on this Mood Swing, and my moods kept swinging, so I went to see the Good Magician, and he gave me a Quest to fetch a very special not of would, and now I need Companions. It may be dangerous. So will you be my first Companion?”
“I’d love to,” Jumper said. “I miss those old days of our association. But I’m not sure Eris will agree to let me go.”
“Ask her,” Wenda said wisely.
“Well, all right then,” he said dubiously. “Eris—”
“It’s a lovely mission,” the Demoness said, appearing in beautiful human-woman form. “I can spare you for a few days.”
“Good enough,” he said, surprised. “But will you be all right without me?”
“I will manage,” Eris said fondly. “In any event, I’ll visit you nightly to tuck you in.”
Wenda didn’t think she had seen a spider blush before. It must be a rather intimate tucking. That, oddly, bothered her. “I’m jealous,” she said.
Eris looked at her. “You miss the prince.”
Now Wenda blushed. She wouldn’t care to confess it openly, but she did miss that constant attention. It normally didn’t take Charming long to satisfy his initial passion, and then he fell right to sleep. So she did usually get to sleep beside him, after that first rush, and she liked that. The thought of sleeping alone did not offer much appeal.