Yon Ill Wind Read online

  The young man nodded. That was an interesting situation, Jim reflected, where Nimby seemed to know everything, but couldn’t volunteer information; he had to be asked or instructed to.

  Meanwhile, this was indeed a good route. “So this is Lizard Lane,” Jim said. “What does that remind me of?”

  “Alligator Alley,” Sean said.

  Jim nodded. “A parody of the world we know. So if I see a barricade and detour, I’m to ignore it, because it’s illusion.”

  Nimby, beside him, nodded.

  Jim shut up, but privately he doubted that they would encounter any such illusion.

  The scenery was becoming more interesting or alarming, depending on one’s view. Florida in the Everglades region was flat, but it was evident that Xanth had mountains; already Lizard Lane was wriggling between them like its namesake. There even seemed to be a volcano in the distance. In fact, the road seemed to be headed in that direction. Jim hoped it didn’t erupt while they were in its vicinity.

  There was also a bank of clouds looming to the northeast. That would be the vanguard of Happy Bottom, as they called Gladys here. Could there be anything to the conjecture about it sweeping up magic dust and becoming a dangerous magical storm? After what he had already seen, he was not prepared to deny it. So they were doing exactly what they needed to: driving full speed away from it, or at least around it.

  Suddenly a barricade loomed up. How had he overlooked it before? The thing was huge, and extended right across the road. There was a big sign with an arrow pointing right: ROAD CLOSED—DETOUR. The detour road was clear, winding away toward a rest station. He barely had time to make it.

  Jim trod on the brakes. The tires squealed as he swerved.

  “No!” Chlorine cried. “It’s illusion! Go through it!”

  Jim had virtually no time to make his decision. She had warned him about this. A mistake could be fatal. He might regret this in an instant, but he trusted her. He straightened the wheel and stepped on the gas, heading for the collision. He barely missed the exit lane. He winced as the barrier loomed high and thick and devastating. They were going to crash!

  Then they were through it, without contact. The road continued ahead, uninterrupted. Jim’s pulse started its long trek back down toward the vicinity of normal. Chlorine—and Nimby—had been right.

  “Gee,” David said, awed. “Just like killer video.”

  That about covered it. Jim glanced at Nimby, who shrugged. Obviously his information had been good. He had been right about the illusion barrier, so probably was also right about the goblins.

  In fact, there they were now: a horde of small, lumpy manlike figures just off the right of way, shaking their little fists. Some carried clubs, and some spears. Obviously they had intended no good. That had been one close escape—thanks to the timely warning.

  “Nimby, if I may ask—how did you know about this ambush?” Jim asked. He wasn’t sure the man would answer him, but Chlorine must have nodded, because Nimby began to write again. Soon he passed Jim a note.

  Jim held it up by the steering wheel and read it. I have knowledge of events around me that may affect the welfare of my companion. But I may not act on them myself; I can act only at her behest. The goblins were setting up the illusion barricade.

  Evidently so. And if Chlorine hadn’t thought to ask, they would have fallen into the trap. What would Nimby have done then? Maybe he would have reverted to his dragon form and carried her away to safety—if Chlorine asked him. But the rest of them would probably have been out of luck.

  Chlorine must have had a similar chain of thought. “Nimby—I have undertaken to guide these folk safely out of Xanth. If anything happens to them, I will have failed. I wouldn’t like that at all. So please warn me if anything threatens them, as well as me. I mean, if it threatens them without threatening me, warn me, because that’s part of me too—the decent part. If they are hurt, I will hurt too.”

  Nimby nodded.

  “Thank you,” Jim said.

  Now they were approaching the volcano. Smoke was issuing from its aperture. “Is that thing active?” Jim asked.

  “Yes, that’s Mount Pinatuba,” Chlorine said, peering ahead. “The last time it got angry, it blew out so much dust that it cooled all Xanth by a degree. But it doesn’t blow its top if you don’t insult it.”

  “Volcanoes care?” Sean asked. “How can they, when they aren’t alive?”

  “Don’t speak loudly,” Chlorine cautioned him. “It might hear you.”

  Indeed, that seemed to be the case, because the mountain shuddered and blew out a plume of gas.

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to disparage it,” Sean said quickly. “I think it’s a pretty impressive volcano.”

  The mountain subsided, and the plume drifted away in the wind.

  “Everything cares,” Chlorine said. “The inanimate can be very sensitive to slights. King Dor can talk to it, and it answers him. Most things aren’t too smart, but they do have opinions. So we have to be careful not to insult them, unless we have reason.”

  “I guess so,” he agreed, clearly impressed.

  “Mom, can I use the privy?” Karen asked.

  “It’s full,” Mary replied. “We need to stop where we can empty it.”

  She was right. The storm had confined them pretty much to the RV, and they hadn’t been able to attend to certain details. “Chlorine, is there a rest stop along this road, nearby? One that isn’t goblin infested?”

  Chlorine consulted with Nimby, who nodded. Soon he pointed to the side, and Jim swung onto an exit road. Sure enough, it led to a pleasant glade with a house in the center. He pulled up beside the house, and paused. “This is safe?” he asked Nimby.

  The young man hesitated, then nodded.

  The others opened the side door and piled out. But Jim delayed. He hadn’t liked that hesitation. “Is there something you’re not telling us, Nimby?”

  Chlorine had gotten out with the others, so they were now alone in the vehicle. Nimby hesitated again, then began to write a note.

  Jim waited, and in due course read the note: Danger is looming close. Your family will learn it at this site, and be alarmed. This will make your journey more difficult.

  “What danger?”

  The storm is stirring up bad creatures. They will frighten your children.

  “But we will escape unharmed—if we follow your advice?”

  Nimby nodded yes.

  “Thank you.” Jim hesitated, then spoke again. “I wish I could know more about you, Nimby, but I hesitate to inquire. Maybe some other time.” Then he, too, got out of the vehicle.

  The region was very nice. Karen had found a tree, and was picking a pie from it.

  Jim stopped, doing a double take. A pie tree? Yes, so it seemed to be. So it really was true: pies grew on trees, here in the magic land of Xanth.

  He went to the facilities, which were somewhat primitive but usable; what more was to be expected of trolls? The wind whistled through the cracks; there was no doubt the storm remained near.

  Then he thought of the pets, and returned to the RV to see to them. He found Nimby communing with them; though they were normally somewhat shy with strangers, they seemed completely at ease with the odd young man.

  As Jim approached, Nimby turned to face him. He wrote another note: These creatures should not be caged. You must let them go.

  “We, do, at home,” Jim said. “But we can’t risk it in a strange place. Woofer would range the neighborhood, getting his nose into everything; Midrange would be chasing wild birds up trees; and Tweeter would fly into a bush and get hopelessly lost. We have been the route.”

  Nimby wrote another note. They will not do any of these things. The magic is enhancing them; they understand that you mean well by them, and they will neither misbehave nor flee you.

  “How can you know this?” Jim asked skeptically. “This isn’t a physical barricade, it’s the nature of animals.”

  Another note. I know thoughts too. It
is part of my talent. I must know what is, so I can enable Chlorine safely to be what she wishes to be.

  That seemed to be true. “Look, Nimby, I don’t want to get in trouble with my children. I’ll ask them, and if they agree to let the pets go, we’ll do it.”

  The children were already approaching, eating pies they had picked. Karen’s hair was blowing across her face and into her pie, but she didn’t seem to mind. Jim explained the situation.

  “Try Woofer first,” Sean suggested. “If he behaves, try Midrange.”

  So they freed the big dog. Woofer bounded out of the RV, went to a nearby tree, watered it, sniffed the air, and returned to the group, tail wagging. He was remarkably well behaved.

  “You’re not going to chase all over the region?” Jim asked the dog, surprised.

  “Woof!” It was a plain negation.

  David went to his pet. “Okay, Midrange. Your turn.” He freed the cat.

  Midrange went to a sandy spot and did his business. Then he, too, sniffed the air, and returned to the group.

  So Karen freed Tweeter. The parakeet flew up to the nearest branch of a tree, dropped a dropping, and flew back to Karen’s shoulder. The increasing wind made the bird’s flight somewhat erratic, but he adjusted rapidly.

  Jim shook his head, bemused. “Very well, pets. You have five minutes to do whatever you want to. Then return here, because we’ll be on our way again.”

  Now the three creatures scattered. Woofer zoomed through the bushes, avidly exploring. Tweeter circled into the sky and disappeared. Midrange climbed a nut and bolt tree and was soon lost in the foliage. The three children followed them, as well as they were able.

  “That’s more like normal,” Jim said. But he was impressed by the way the animals had waited for his word before acting on their impulses. If they actually returned on the schedule he had set, he would know that Nimby’s judgment in such respects could be trusted.

  Mary emerged, carrying a basket of comestibles. The wind did its best to blow her dress around, but she remained in control. She stacked the bag in the RV, then looked around. “Where are the pets?”

  “Nimby said they would behave if we let them go, so we did.”

  She turned a quizzical glance on him, but did not comment.

  Tweeter reappeared. He landed on Nimby’s shoulder, tweeting at a great rate. Nimby wrote another note and gave it to Jim. The storm has stirred up enormous birds who may be hostile. They are coming this way.

  Jim shrugged. “How big can a bird get?”

  A huge shadow crossed the glade. They looked up to spot its source. It looked like an airplane, but it was silent. A big glider perhaps.

  Then it screeched. It was a bird—as big as an airliner. Such a creature could probably pick up the whole RV in its talons, if it tried.

  “Jim—” Mary said urgently.

  “Right.” He raised his voice. “Kids! Pets! Time’s up!”

  The summoned ones forged in from all directions. Chlorine, too reappeared, looking devastatingly lovely in her windblown state. But the boys for once weren’t looking at her. “Get a load of that big bird!” David cried, pausing to stare.

  “Get in,” Mary said tightly.

  They piled in. So did Jim, after checking to make sure all was in order. Nimby had told him that bad creatures would frighten the children; instead it seemed to be Mary who was frightened, perhaps with good reason.

  He started the motor and moved onto the access road. There was no troll booth here, fortunately. They were able to proceed without delay.

  The children peered out the windows at the monstrous bird. “That’s a roc,” Sean said, awed. “Fantasy’s biggest bird. I never thought I’d see one.”

  Tweeter chirped. Jim glanced at Nimby, who wrote a note. He says that isn’t all.

  “What’s that?” Karen cried.

  “A dragon,” Sean said. He wasn’t joking; his tone was serious.

  Now a huge and grotesque shape loomed in the sky before the vehicle. It was, indeed, a dragon. Karen screamed.

  Jim looked at Nimby. “This road is protected?”

  Nimby hesitated, and nodded.

  “But there’s a ‘but,’” Jim said. “Let’s have the qualifier.”

  The note came. The winged monsters can not attack anything on the enchanted path directly. But they can pretend to. Do not be swayed.

  “And children can be frightened,” Jim said. Nimby nodded.

  “Yuck!” David cried. Karen screamed again. And this time Mary made a stifled exclamation of alarm.

  Jim looked from one window to the next, all around, craning his neck, but didn’t see anything. “This is an enchanted road,” he reminded them. “Nothing can hurt us while we’re on it.”

  “Physically,” Mary responded tightly.

  “What did you see?”

  “It was a harpy,” Chlorine said. “They are very ugly and nasty.”

  “A human-headed bird?” Jim asked. “What’s so bad about one more fantastic—”

  Then a filthy thing appeared before the windshield. It looked like a thoroughly soiled vulture, with the head and breasts of an old woman. “Ghaaa!” the dirty bird screeched before veering up over the vehicle. Her legs had glistening discolored talons. Jim, fearing a collision, and revolted by the sight, almost veered onto the shoulder of the road. Now he understood what had been bothering the others.

  “Can this house move faster?” Chlorine asked.

  “Yes. But with these crosswinds I haven’t wanted to push it.”

  “I think you had better,” the woman said, concerned. “The harpies may not be able to touch us directly, but if they think to lay any eggs on us—”

  “Messy,” Sean remarked.

  “Not exactly. Their eggs explode. They might do damage.”

  Explosive eggs? Jim decided to accelerate, regardless of the wind.

  There was an angry screech outside, as the harpies realized that their target was escaping. “They’re coming after us, Dad!” David exclaimed. “And the dragons too.”

  Jim goosed the gas. As if to join in the fray, the wind increased, becoming more gusty. The vehicle swerved slightly, as Jim fought to keep it steady. He didn’t like this kind of driving. Neither did the others; the kids were now uncomfortably silent.

  But now they slowly forged ahead of the winged monsters. Jim was even able to ease up on the gas a bit. He appreciated Nimby’s warning about the children being frightened. If they hadn’t paused at the rest stop, they might have stayed safely ahead of the dirty birds. But that stop had been necessary. All the same, he hoped not to stop again if he could avoid it.

  Nimby wrote another note. Jim took it and propped it before him so he could read it without taking his eyes off the road. Soon you will come to the Gap Chasm, where you will have to stop for the ferry. It is protected, but perhaps not comfortable for you.

  “What’s this gap chasm?” Jim asked between his clenched teeth.

  “Oh, that’s a big chasm that crosses Xanth,” Chlorine answered. “It once had a forget spell on it, so no one ever remembered it was there, but that started disintegrating during the Time of No Magic, and now most folk do remember it. It’s said to be very impressive.”

  “You haven’t seen it?” Jim asked. He was learning not to take the features of Xanth terrain lightly.

  “Not exactly,” she said. “I never traveled far from my home village. Until this adventure, which is proving to be a great one. I did cross it, but by night; I really didn’t get a good look into it. But of course, I had heard about the Gap Chasm. There’s a big green dragon in the bottom who steams and eats any creatures it catches there.”

  “Nimby says we’ll take the ferry.”

  “Then maybe we won’t have to get past the Gap Dragon,” Chlorine said, relieved. “I don’t know about the ferry, but if Nimby says it, it must be so.”

  But not comfortable for them, Jim remembered. He had better prepare the children. “Kids, we may have another difficult pass
age ahead. So brace yourselves.” There was a moderate groan from behind. Obviously this magic land was losing some of its appeal.

  Nimby pointed ahead. Jim didn’t see anything, but wasn’t about to ignore the signal. He slowed the RV. It was just as well, for in a moment he saw that the road ended abruptly at the brink of an awesome cleft in the ground. It seemed impossibly wide and deep. The last thing he would have wanted to do was zoom at speed off the lip into the depths.

  5

  IMP ERIAL

  Mary watched the dreadful chasm approach. Aspects of this strange realm had first been unbelievable, then disturbing; now they were becoming down-right alarming. But she didn’t want to express her burgeoning concern, lest it upset the children. They had already been frightened enough by the terrible flying creatures. Oh, how she hoped it didn’t get any worse!

  There was a small house at the brink. Another troll stood there. Jim fished in his pocket for more change. “We’re taking the ferry,” he told the troll, as if this were routine. She had to give him due credit: he had excellent poise in this most trying situation. And it was working; the creature accepted the coins and nodded.

  But there was no boat, just the yawning deeps of the chasm. “Is it safe to get out here?” he asked Nimby. The odd man nodded. Mary knew that Nimby’s help was invaluable, but she was privately afraid of him; there was something so utterly different about him as to be unclassifiable. She far preferred Chlorine, who, though not in her ordinary form, which was downright plain, was at least completely human.

  But perhaps Jim and the children had some caution, for they elected to remain inside the RV, just in case the monsters should return. They watched as a cloud detached itself from a cloud bank above the chasm and drifted in their direction. It seemed to have a kind of foggy keel below.

  Oh, no! Could this actually be their ferry? Mary kept her dark suspicion to herself, hoping it wasn’t true.

  But it was true. The cloud came to dock at the brink of the cliff, so that the road now led onto it. It looked solid—but how could that possibly be?