Cube Route Part 4

"My hair," Karia clarified. Now Cube saw the l.u.s.trous fair tresses lying across the wings.

"I don't want to pull your hair."

"It's tough. Don't be concerned."

Karia trotted toward the river. Cube grabbed a handful of flying hair, her other hand held the bag. The wind rushed past as the centaur broke into a canter, and then a gallop, achieving takeoff velocity. She spread her wings and launched into the air just as they reached the river. The wings became huge, spreading out to either side like great white fans.

Cube stared down, seeing the river so close below that the centaur could almost have galloped on it. The loan sharks saw it too, and quickly cl.u.s.tered, snapping at hoofs. But Karia was already gaining alt.i.tude, just out of their reach. Still, it was scary; any mistake, and the sharks would feed on four centaur legs and two human legs, and four arms as well. Cube wasn't sure whether they ate anything other than arms and legs, and didn't care to find out.

"Dragon at one o'clock," the centaur murmured.

Was it that late in the day already? Oh--she meant a direction. Cube looked forward, just right of the arrow quiver. There it was, swooping down, not firing fire. Instead it was shaping its mouth to form a word. In this case, a word was more deadly than fire.

"Kaarriaa!" the dragon roared.

It was distorted, but recognizable. The centaur went inert, gliding without control. The loan sharks congregated below, gazing hungrily up, and the dragon glided in for the kill.

Cube balanced so she could use both hands. She held the bag with one, and reached in with the other. She brought out a handful of nickelpedes. "Chomp 'em!" she whispered, and hurled the handful at the approaching snoot.

Her aim was good. Most of the nickelpedes landed on the dragon's nose. A few fell to the side and dropped to the water, where they landed on upturned shark noses. There was a pause of two to three fifths of a moment.

"Wake," Cube said to the centaur. "It's happening."

The centaur became alert, steadying her flight with her wings, just enough to hover in place. She did not want to attract attention.

Then the dragon yiped. Nickelpedes were gouging out nickel-sized disks of flesh from its snout. There was a scream from below as the other nickelpedes did similar work on the noses of the sharks. Then they moved on to the dragon's body, and to the fins. They were feasting on dragon skin and making a gory soup of shark fins.

Distracted, the dragon tried to burn them off its chest. It curved its neck and blasted out a formidable jet of fire--and squealed as its skin charred. It lost control and plunged into the water, smoking. There was a great splash. But the nickelpedes did not relent; they were still gouging. The dragon sank out of sight, twisting and wriggling, trying to escape the chomping.

This might have been a feast for the loan sharks, but they had problems of their own. More nickelpedes were in the water now, scrambling for lodging, and more sharks were getting tagged. They lurched away, trying to escape, but they were carrying the nickelpedes with them.

"How absolutely horrible," Karia murmured ecstatically.

"Awful," Cube agreed, smiling.

Soon the carnage had sunk under the surface and the water was calm. Karia resumed flight, crossed the river, and landed on the enchanted path on the other side. "I believe this is where we part," she said. "I now have a clear flight path home. It has been a pleasure."

"A pleasure," Cube agreed.

They shook hands. Then the centaur took off again, flying back across the river and up, up, away, into the sky. Soon she was a mere lovely speck. Then she disappeared behind a cloud.

Cube was sad. She really liked the centaur, and was glad they had had this extra interaction. She had never flown before, and would treasure the experience.

Then she remembered to check for the mirror. Sure enough, it was back. It had waited until they weren't paying attention, and rejoined her. She had not gotten rid of it, again.

She faced east and marched on along the path. It wasn't long before she saw the spires of a castle. She had indeed gained time, and was arriving at the Good Magician's residence early. That was fine; she wanted to get inside and Ask her Question, and hoped he had a good Answer.

The castle looked ordinary. It had a moat around it, complete with a serpentine moat monster, and a stone wall inside the moat, and turrets inside the wall. There was a drawbridge, and it was down across the moat, so was the obvious place to enter. Of course there would be a Challenge there, but she would do her best to handle it. Because she really, truly, desperately wanted to be beautiful, and this was the only way.

As she approached the drawbridge, it wavered, and became something not quite the same. But it still was a route across the moat, so that was her choice.

There was a sign by it: BEWARE THE COMIC STRIP. She paused to consider that. What was a Comic Strip? She had never heard of it, but it didn't sound particularly dangerous. Yet it had to be something that would balk her from entry, if she didn't figure it out. Well, there was one way to fathom it: she would walk in and find out.

As she stepped onto the path that was the drawbridge, there was a raucous burst of laughter, startling her. She looked around, but all she saw was a long-stemmed plant. She took another step, and the laughter came again. This time she verified the source: it was that stem, vibrating. It didn't seem to be dangerous, just strident.

"What's so funny?" she asked it. But now it was silent.

She stepped forward again--and got another loud burst of laughter. Evidently it found her attempt to cross the moat hilarious. She tried to ignore it, but each step she took made it laugh louder, until the very drawbridge was shaking.

She was afraid it would be shaken apart if the noise got any louder, so she stepped back to address the plant. "What do you want?"

But now it was silent. She took another step forward, and got another big laugh. This was getting annoying.

Then she had an inspiration. "You're a laughing stalk!" she exclaimed. "A stupid pun!"

The plant wilted and shriveled and finally disappeared. She had named it, and thus nullified it. She was past the Challenge.

But she wasn't off the drawbridge. She took another step, but found her way blocked by a stick. She didn't think it had been there before, but couldn't be sure. She took hold of it, to move it out of her way. And received a slight shock.

"What a lovely piece of wood you are," she said with nasty irony, throwing it down.

Then she was sorry to have been so rough and rude, even to a stick. "I didn't mean to do that." She bent to pick it up, and got another little shock. "You did it again, you delightful emulation of a club!" she snapped, hurling it away.

Again she regretted it. Normally she tried to be reasonably polite to every person and every thing, because many things of Xanth had feelings too.

The stick had returned to its original place, blocking her way. She reached for it--and stopped. "When I touch you, I get sardonic," she said. "You're a sarcas-stick!"

The stick sank into the floor and disappeared. She had identified it and defeated it. Had she handled the second Challenge? She was still on the drawbridge.

She took another step, and almost walked into a column of ashes. She actually touched it before stopping, and got ashes on her front. Then a shower of ashes fell on her head, making her sneeze. She looked up, and saw that it was a whole tree, all of it covered in ashes.

Then a little dim bulb flashed just over her head. "You're not covered in ashes--you're made of ashes," she said. "You're an ash tree!"

The tree collapsed into a mound of ashes and was gone. She had solved another one. That made three.

But she was still on the drawbridge. So could she now just go on across, her Challenges done?

She took a step, and found her way blocked by a large cabinet. Evidently she was not done here.

Then she realized that these were all puns lined up in a row. This was the Comic Strip! Now she knew what it was. And it was only the first Challenge.

How long would it continue? She suspected it would keep putting puns in her way until she figured out not just how to identify them, but how to stop them entirely. But it was hard enough figuring out the individual ones; how could she solve the whole thing?

First things first. What was the nature of this cabinet? She opened its door and found it filled with little curled bits of metal. "Metal filings," she said. "A filing cabinet!"

But it did not disappear. The filings arranged themselves along its walls, but that was all. It was tall and narrow and in her way.

Then she got the rest of it. "People have to go through this single file," she said. "Filing through the cabinet." She stepped into it, turning sidewise to fit, and through it. When she looked back, it was gone. She had gotten the rest of the pun.

And how many more to fathom? Sooner or later she would encounter one she couldn't figure out, and then she'd be balked. So rather than run that line, she should stop now and figure out the larger riddle: how to abolish the comic strip itself.

Comic Strip. A strip of supposedly funny things, comics. But could there be another interpretation, as with the filing cabinet? Not just something to name, but something to do? Comic Strip--strip comic?

Oh, no! She hated that. But it did fit. It was probably calculated to repel her, just as Karia had been repelled by the puns. So she probably had to do it.

She faced ahead without moving. "I am not pretty. It would be ludicrous for me to take off my clothes. In fact it would be comical. So here is my comic strip."

She gritted her teeth and took off her shirt. Then she took off her shoes. Then she grimaced and took hold of her skirt.

The closed-in Comic Strip faded out. She stood on the open drawbridge. No barriers remained between her and the inner bank of the moat. And she hadn't even needed to strip all the way. She had gone far enough to make her point, and that had been enough.

She breathed a silent sigh of relief and put her shirt back on, and her shoes. Then she walked on across the moat. She had won a small victory; still, she wished she could have a body that was stunning when bared, instead of comical.

The drawbridge ended at a large drooping tree. No, not exactly a tree; a portcullis whose metallic spikes resembled branches. Maybe a gate decorated to resemble a tree. Whatever it was, it blocked the way; she could see between the bars to a hall leading into the castle. This was obviously the second Challenge.

The portcullis looked too heavy to lift clear, but a.s.sumptions were risky, so she put her hands on two of the bars and heaved upward. They did not budge. "Darn!"

"You swore at me!" a female voice cried, and water dripped down the branches.

Startled, Cube stepped back and looked up. There was a face in the upper foliage, vaguely human, but much larger than any person. A woman's countenance, with flowing green hair and huge liquid eyes.

"You're a person!" Cube exclaimed, astonished.

"I'm a willow tree," the face replied. "Forced to remain here unhappily until I am able to smile. Only then will I be freed from this horrible bondage."

"You're not here by choice? That's awful."

"It's unbearably sad," the tree agreed, and tears fairly cascaded from her eyes, wetting the rest of her substance like falling rain. "It makes me so unhappy that I know I'll never be free."

"I wish I could make you happy," Cube said.

"Well, there is one way."

"What is that?"

"Take my place."

Cube recoiled. She was not about to fall into this trap! "You're here as a Challenge I have to pa.s.s. I'm not supposed to do your job, I'm supposed to get by you."

"Oooo!" the face wailed, and the tears flowed so copiously that they started to pool on the floor.

Cube felt sorry for the weeping willow, but her sympathy was tempered by her knowledge that the tree's fate was not permanent. She was surely serving her year for an Answer. The tears were probably fake.

Still, it was a Challenge. She had to find a way past this unhappy barrier. The tree had told her that she would be free once she was able to smile, so the challenge might be to make her smile. But how could she do that? The tree would probably meet her every effort with a further deluge of tears.

Well, she had to try. "Would you like a gift?"

The flow eased. "A gift? What?"

"A rear-view mirror." Maybe when the willow got the pun, she would laugh, or at least let a smile out. Then she would depart, and the way would be clear.

"But I look awful," the tree protested. "Almost as bad as you do."

Cube could have done without that last remark. But she ignored it and brought out the mirror. "It will surprise you. Hold it up and take a look."

A branch creaked forward, with twigs like fingers. It took the mirror. The willow held it up before her expansive face. "But this is not my visage!"

"Yes it is. It's your other side."

"Oh, my trunk. Now I understand. This is very nice."

"Your rear view."

"Yes. Thank you. You are so kind, I really hate to stop you from entering the castle." The tears resumed.

So much for humor. The pun had fallen entirely flat.

Cube pondered. The first Challenge had been deceptive. There had been a seeming way through it, solving pun after pun, but that was not the real way. The real way was to comprehend its basic nature and address that.

So what was the basic nature of this one? It seemed she had to make the weeping willow smile, but that might be impossible. Was there some other avenue?

What about the opposite? Making her cry? That seemed cruel, but maybe it wasn't, since she was a weeper by nature. Maybe her true satisfaction lay in weeping.

Cube braced herself and tried. "I have to agree. Your fate is very sad. It must be terrible to be locked into this abysmal gate with no hope of release."

"Yes, it is very bad," the tree agreed, the tears flowing more copiously.

"Just on and on, crying endlessly, without hope."

"Yes," the tree sobbed. The tears were rushing down, forming a small river at the base that made its way to the moat.

"n.o.body ever had a worse fate."

"n.o.body," the willow agreed, streaming.

"I don't see how you can stand it."

"I can't stand it!" The water came from her eyes in virtual cataracts, splashing onto the floor in twin waterfalls.

Cataracts. That was an eye condition. Could that be the key?

Cube acted before she could change her mind. She dived into the nearest cataract, desperately swimming upstream. In a moment she found herself being carried along, topsy-turvy, tumbling in the fierce current. She was in a rushing river--and the portcullis was gone.

She had found a way through. Where she was going she didn't know, but she was past the second Challenge.

The river slowed. She looked around, and saw that it was flowing into a larger channel with steep cliffs on the sides. She couldn't get out. There was just one place where the ground was low enough for her to wade out. There was a green tree by it, blocking the way. Well, she would climb through its foliage if she had to.

She splashed up to the bank. Then she recognized the variety of tree. It was a tangle tree.