The Color Of Her Panties Part 7

However, there were details that Mela's manual didn't mention. After topping several sandy dunes, they stopped by the pathside in the shade of a mixed forest of beach umbrella trees, bagpipe bushes, clove trees, and ladyfinger and palm trees. The umbrella provided shade, the bagpipes played skitly music, and the ladyfingers made delicate gestures that caused the palms to sweat. Okra's own palms were sweating, for she was carrying her oxblood boat and the higher they climbed, the heavier it got. That was part of the magic of heights, of course: they made things heavier.

They found a health spa spring and drank from it. Then the path became narrow, and they had to leave the boat at the spring and follow the winding rocky magic path as it became a white marble chip path. They reached a charming antique garden, where they settled down to rest.

Mela could not resist plucking a silvery platina lace shawl from a nearby Spanish shawl bush, and Okra nibbled bits and pieces from the pink peppermint candytuft tree. It seemed that they had lost any cares they had ever had, and were now carefree.

Mela knew a song, which she taught Okra: "The Saga of the Sleeping Dragon." The sun seemed to slow its journey overhead, listening. Then they saw thyme plants growing near, and realized that the presence of a number of these could slow time here and make the day longer. It wasn't just their imagination. They could relax here as long as they wanted, and only a little time would pa.s.s outside the thyme garden.

But soon they moved on along the path, realizing that the slowed time was also a good way to get more rapidly where they were going. They walked on through the glorious colors, symmetries, music, tastes, smells, and feelings of this region. It appealed to all their senses.

"Ahhh, ohhh," Mela sighed as they came upon a crystal rock garden filled with sweetly scented white rock roses, tiny paper narcissi, and softly baa-aa-aaing white phlox. Even Okra, untrained as she was in the appreciation of loveliness, was rapidly learning it. A small crystal spring bubbled and sang from the top of the miniature crystal mountain to tumble down, down the little crags into a crystal pool below. It was perfect except for one small detail: the small frozen figure of a young human woman encased in a large block of crystal that was being used to prop open the door of a garden shed.

They entered the shed, which turned out to be a cave with dusky recesses. They gazed at the figure. She was a fairly pretty creature, wearing pale water-washed aqua blue chiffon dress and golden filigree sandals.

"I don't like the look of this at all," Mela whispered, grabbing nervously at Okra's arm and shivering. "Suppose you and I also fall into that crystal and remain here as prisoners of thyme forever? We must hurry away from here!"

"But what about that poor trapped girl?" Okra asked. "Is it right to leave her here?"

Mela frowned. "You would have to think of that! No, it's not right. We shall have to try to help her."

Mela lifted her two firewater opals and approached the crystal. Watery fire shot out and bathed the block. It shimmered, and its corners melted, but the girl inside remained frozen. The opals were not strong enough for this job.

"Maybe I can carve her out," Okra said. She drew her knife and attacked the crystal. Fragments flaked off and fell to the floor. But soon the knife dulled, and the main bulk of the crystal remained.

"Maybe my siren song can do it," Mela said. She opened her mouth and sang her lovely, weird melody. The crystal shimmered, and rainbow glints of light radiated from it, but it did not fracture or dissolve.

Mela gave up. "Maybe your voice can do it," she said.

"Try singing ogre loud."

Okra opened her mouth. A strange feeling came over her. She sang a note, and then a higher note, and then more higher notes in a stair-step pattern. The notes rose to high C, and above, until they disappeared through the roof and could be heard no more. There was silence-but Okra was still singing.

"That's your magic talent!" Mela exclaimed. "You have an ultrasonic voice!"

The crystal block shivered and cracked. Suddenly it burst apart, and the young woman stood there, free, shaking her head and blinking her eyes.

But now the heavy stone door to the garden shed was closing, having lost its doorstop. "Get out!" Mela cried, alarmed.

The young woman merely shook her head, confused.

Okra acted. She charged through, picked up the girl, and carried her out before the door shut them in. Mela followed her out. The three of them stood breathing hard as the door crunched into place behind them.

Okra set the young woman down. "What's your name?" Mela asked her.

The young woman took a breath, and at her bosom the material of her dress shimmered into a silvery Aegean blue green which exactly matched her pale jade green hair and aqua green eyes. "Ida, don't-"

"Ida?" Mela asked.

"Know," she finished.

"Oh." The merwoman considered. "Well, let's just call you Ida, then. I am Mela Merwoman, and this is Okra Ogress. We just rescued you from a cruel imprisonment.

"H-h.e.l.lo," Ida said. "Thank you."

"Now we must learn all about you," Mela said. "So we can help you. Where are you going?"

Ida shook her head. "Going?" she asked blankly.

"Well, then, where have you been?"

Ida spread her hands. "I'm not sure."

Mela looked at Okra. "I think we have a problem."

But Okra had an idea. "Maybe she wants to go to see the Good Magician, just as we do, to get her life straight."

"Is that the case?" Mela inquired.

"Yes, I think so. If I can find the way."

Mela smiled. "As it happens, we are in the process of finding the way. So you can come with us, and the Good Magician will know what to do."

Ida nodded. "Yes, I'd like that."

"But the path is closed off now," Okra pointed out.

"The door closed when we took out the block. Now we can't reach your merfolk cousins and get directions."

"Maybe there is another route," Mela said. "We shall just have to go back and see."

So they started back. Mela led the way, and Ida followed, and Okra was last. Once again her thoughts started galloping around inside her skull, bouncing off the bone and getting all mixed up. What a strange thing, to meet such an elegantly garbed young woman, sealed up in a crystal!

Chapter 4.

Castle Roogna was protected by its great orchard. Che knew about this, of course; it was part of the Centaur Lesson Plan. "We have to make sure that the trees know we are friends," he said. "Otherwise they will move their branches to block us."

"Oh, pooh!" Jenny said. "Trees don't move their branches unless there's a strong wind." She marched ahead along the path.

Branches swung down from the left and right, barring her way.

"Then again, maybe they do," she said, stepping back.

"I forgot that this isn't like the place I came from."

"How do we let them know we are friends?" Gwenny asked.

"We identify ourselves and state our mission," he said.

"Once they know us, they won't bother us again."

So the goblin girl approached the crossed branches. "I am Gwendolyn Goblin, heir to the chiefship of Goblin Mountain, on the way to consult the Good Magician about something I need if I am to succeed in becoming the first female chief among the goblins."

The leaves of the trees rustled. After a moment the two big branches lifted up, letting her pa.s.s. But they dropped back into place behind her.

Jenny stepped up again. "I am Jenny from the World of Two Moons. I'm Gwenny's friend, and I want to help her."

The leaves rustled again, and then the branches lifted, letting her pa.s.s.

Che stepped up. "I am Che Centaur, Gwenny's companion. I may be destined to help change the course of the history of Xanth."

The trees let him pa.s.s also. "Thank you," he said.

They moved on through the orchard, where all manner of trees grew with their fruit. There were cherries in varieties ranging from chocolate to bomb, and pies ranging from lemon to cow, and footwear trees ranging from boot to lady's slipper. They looked at these, sorely tempted, but knew that they had to present themselves at Castle Roogna before touching anything.

Then the castle itself loomed up forbiddingly, surrounded by a deep moat. A serpentine moat monster lifted its head to stare at them. But it recognized them, and relaxed. They had, after all, been here before. They just hadn't come by foot, then.

There was a scream from inside. In a moment a young woman in blue jeans and shirttails dashed out, her braids flying. "Che! Gwenny! Jenny!" she cried.

It was Electra, the first princess of Xanth to wear such informal clothing. They had been at her wedding, two years before. She was actually twenty years old, but looked sixteen. That was fine, because her husband Prince Dolph was seventeen, and women were supposed to be younger than men, and if they weren't, they had to fake it. Che wasn't sure of the origin of that particular rule, but it was in the big book of rules somewhere.

Electra hugged them all and ushered them into the castle. She took them to the nursery to show off the twin girls the stork had brought her, Dawn and Eve. It was hard to imagine this girlishly freckled person as either princess or mother, but she was, and evidently quite happy to be so.

They were given a room to share, and Che gazed out the window while the girls took baths and changed clothing. Centaurs did not have the same conventions as the human folk, but honored them when in human company.

So he did not try to sneak a peek at anyone's panties, tempting as the prospect was.

Then they were escorted to the main dining hall for dinner. Now they met King Dor and Queen Irene, who were gracious. Prince Dolph was also present, looking somewhat gangly. Then Electra appeared, and for a moment Che did not recognize her, for she had been transformed.

She wore a pale green gown speckled with golden motes, and a tiara in her hair, and her feet were dainty in lady's slippers. Her face remained freckled, but now it was adult and beautiful. She looked almost as wonderful as she had on the day she married Dolph, when the magic wedding dress had changed her from nothing to lovely.

"You seem surprised," Queen Irene remarked. Che glanced guiltily around, and realized that she was speaking to Gwenny and Jenny, whose mouths had sagged open.

That was a relief; Che's mouth had almost done the same.

"Electra's so different," Jenny said. "Just a moment ago she was in blue jeans."

"We have learned the art of compromise," Queen Irene said. "By day, and in informal situations, Electra dresses and acts as she pleases. In the evening, and when formal, she dresses for the part. She is after all a princess now."

"I wonder if I will ever be like that," Gwenny murmured, awed.

"Surely you will, dear, when you are chief," Queen Irene said. "Your mother is excellent with clothing and manners."

Actually, she was not far from it now, Che reflected.

Gwenny, like all goblin females, was pet.i.te and pretty, and in the dress she was wearing at the moment she was winsome. But she did not know it, which was surely part of her appeal.

They ate well, for all the fruits of the orchard that had tempted them were served. There was even a nice plate of cat treats for Sammy. Che realized that Queen Irene had noticed, and made sure to please the guests.

Yet why should the Queen have gone to such trouble?

They were merely three creatures on a private mission, hardly worthy of royal treatment.

No, that was not correct. They were special people.

Jenny was a representative of a species of elf never before seen in Xanth, whose story was as yet incomplete. She had pointed ears and four fingers, and her folk, in their own realm, had the ability to communicate mind to mind.

Gwenny had the chance to be the first female chief of a goblin tribe, and that could transform the relations of goblins to other species as dramatically as the change of clothing had done for Electra. And Che himself was supposed to change the history of Xanth, though the way of that was not yet clear. Perhaps he would be instrumental in helping Gwenny achieve the chiefship, or perhaps it would happen in some other manner. So the three of them, though young, were not ordinary, and Queen Irene was well aware of that. Possibly his sire and dam had notified the Queen that they were coming; centaur adults left little to chance. Still, he appreciated the courtesy which was being extended, and knew that the girls did too.

After the meal, Electra invited them to join her and her daughters in Princess Ivy's old room to see the magic Tapestry. She carried the twins in a large ba.s.sinet. "They like to watch it," Electra explained.

"So we watch it before they go to sleep for the night. It is always interesting."

The Tapestry turned out to be a big woven picture, of Castle Roogna hung on the wall. It had been made back in Electra's time, almost nine hundred years ago, by the Sorceress Tapis. The Sorceress had given it to the Zombie Master in the form of a puzzle, and he had not appreciated its nature until he had a.s.sembled it. Now the Zombie Master lived in the present, but had elected to leave the Tapestry where it was most useful at Castle Roogna. It had helped educate Princess Ivy and Prince Dolph, and any number of other folk.

For the picture on the Tapestry was not fixed. It constantly changed, showing facets of the history of Xanth or contemporary events. It was possible to spy on others, using it, though of course good folk would never do that.

Still, that did make it a most interesting item.

"What would you like to see?" Electra inquired. "The twins don't mind what is on; they're too young, yet, to be choosy." Actually, at the moment the twins weren't looking at the Tapestry at all; they were watching Sammy Cat, who had joined them in the ba.s.sinet. He was playing with a loose thread on their blanket.

Gwenny shrugged, but Jenny looked concerned. "Do you think it might show Okra Ogress?" she asked hesitantly.

Immediately the picture changed. It showed a strange crystal rock garden with white rock roses and sheeplike white phlox. A crystal spring flowed from a little crystal mountain, making miniature waterfalls until it formed a pool below. The scene was beautiful.

But there were no figures in it, ogre or otherwise. Only a block of crystal which propped open a door.

Then a figure appeared: a rather large human woman, heavy boned and lightly furred. Her strawlike hair flared outward from her head and down her back in knots and tangles. With her was a smaller but more voluptuous woman, wearing slippers and nothing else. Her hair was the same yellow color, but the tresses were glossy and silky rather than crude and ropy.

"That's Mela Merwoman!" a voice said from the doorway. It was Prince Dolph, who had stopped by for a moment.

"That's right-Nada said you knew her," Electra remarked without enthusiasm.

"Uh, yes," he said, staring at the image. "Of course I didn't want to marry her."

"Because you were nine years old at the time," Electra retorted.

"But I must admit that she has very nice-"

"Never mind!" Electra snapped. The picture fuzzed in the region of Mela's torso, so that whatever he thought was interesting was no longer so.

Prince Dolph's eyes were freed from what had held him like the peephole of a hypnogourd. "Oh, to be nine again," he murmured as he departed.

Gwenny and Jenny exchanged a glance, which Che intercepted. He knew their thought: was this what marriage did to a relationship?