Piers, Anthony - Xanth 12 - Man From Mundania - Anthony, Piers

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MAN FROM MUNDANIA – XANTH 12

Chapter 1. Heaven Cent

•vy woke, stretched, and opened her eyes. It

was dawn; the sun had not yet quite dared show its round

face, because darkness made it nervous, but soon it would

get up its nerve. She looked at the Tapestry, with its ever-

changing picture of Xanth. She never really tired of watch-

ing it, though her interest waxed and waned. It waxed

when it rained outside because it was more fun to remain

inside where it was dry, and it waned when Zora Zombie

was waxing the stairs and the smell of the wax got chok-

ingly thick. Thus, as she put it, it waxed when it waned,

and waned when it waxed. It was her private joke with

Dt^ph? the adults didn’t understand. Adults were chroni-

cal^slow about such things.

Sure enough, Zora was waxing today; the smell was just

starting. Ivy had only minutes to find a pretext to go far

away, several days if possible, until the wax settled down.

But she was running out of pretexts; what was left?

She jumped out of bed so suddenly she frightened the

monster under it—Grabraham; she heard his honk as he

shrank away. He was a young monster, replacing Snorti-

mer, who had departed long ago; he tended to be timid.

She was also reaching the age when folk started not be-

lieving in Bed Monsters, and that made it that much worse.

When she turned eighteen she would stop believing en-

tirely, and the poor thing would fade away. Grabby was

Man from Mundania

quite upset over the prospect, for some reason. She was

sorry about that, but there was really no alternative; she

couldn’t stop herself from getting older.

She ran barefoot to the next room where Princess Nada

slept. Nada had moved in three years before when Dolph

brought her home, and the two had become great friends,

because they were the same age and rank and similarly

pretty. Nada was only half human, but she kept her human

form when staying at Castle Roogna, just from courtesy.

Princesses had to leam courtesy early, because princes

certainly didn’t.

“Nada!” she cried. “I need a pretext in a hurry.”

Nada sat up in bed, wrinkling her nose. “I know; I

smell it too. I’ll go with you.”

“Of course! But where?”

Nada concentrated. “Have we used the mirror yet?”

“We don’t have the magic mirror!” Ivy reminded her.

“Com-Pewter got it last year, and won’t give it back!”

“Yes. So—”

Ivy caught on. “So we’ll just have to go and fetch it!

Because I’ll need it when I use the Heaven Cent!”

“Exactly. Except—”

“I know. Except that Com-Pewter isn’t going to let us

have it without a fight, and he fights dirty. Still, it’s a

perfect excuse, if we can only figure out a way.”

“Maybe Electra—”

“That’s right! She could shock Pewter into letting it

go!”

Electra appeared in the doorway. “Did someone say my

name?” she asked sleepily. She was a freckled child whose

hair was a bit frizzy; her eyes were the color of wonder,

and there were smile lines around her button nose. No one

would think, to look at her, that she was tragically in love.

“Zora’s waxing the stairs! Come help us get the magic

mirror from Com-Pewter!”

“Is that what I smelled! Just let me get dressed!”

There was a scramble as the three of them dived into

proper clothing. In a moment they were together again;

the two princesses in dresses, glancing jealously at Electra

in her rainbow jeans. She was of common stock, so could

get away with practical clothing. She was also slender

enough to wear it without attracting stray male eyes or

female frowns.

Quickly they trooped down the hall to the farther stair-

way, avoiding the wax. Unfortunately this led them past

Dolph’s room, and he heard them. He had ears like those

of a werewolf, perhaps because he commonly assumed

wolf form to snooze. His door banged open. “Hey,

where’re you going?” he cried. “Are you sneaking out

again?”

Nada and Electra paused: Nada because she didn’t want

to hurt his feelings, Electra because she was in love with

him. Both were betrothed to him, of course, though he

was only twelve. In a moment Electra would invite him

along, because she always wanted to be close to him.

To prevent that. Ivy dived in. “We’re going to get the

magic mirror from Com-Pewter so I can have it when I

use the Heaven Cent,” she said. “So we can find out

where Good Magician Humfrey is and finally complete

your Quest.”

“But Mother won’t let you—” he started, reasonably.

“So you’ll have to cover for us!” Ivy finished. ” ‘Bye!”

He still looked doubtful. But Nada stepped in and kissed

him, not saying a word. “Uh, sure,” he said. He was

Silly Putty in her hands, of course, even though he knew

she didn’t love him. It was the mirror image of his asso-

ciation with Electra. He changed into zombie form and

walked back the way they had come. Zombies didn’t mind

the smell of wax, so he would be able to brave those stairs

despite Zora’s mischief.

They completed their escape. Whatever Dolph had done

must have been sufficient, because no one tried to inter-

cept them. Ivy whistled for Stanley, and in a moment the

dragon whored around the castle and joined them. He

was almost grown now, and soon would have to depart for

the Gap because guarding it was his job. Ivy would be sad

when he left, but knew it was the same as it was with her:

age had its burdens. Meanwhile, he was excellent protec-

tion; they had no fear of wild monsters while in the com-

pany of the tame one.

Man from Mundonia

They snatched fruits from the orchard as they passed

through it, eating on the run. Then they reached the main

path going north. Every so often Com-Pewter arranged to

set up a D-tour, and then King Dor would send out some-

one to shut it down because it was a public nuisance. Ivy

happened to know that there was a D-tour currently in

force, and this time they meant to take it. It was the easiest

way to reach the evil machine. They were supposed to

stay clear of the infernal contraption, of course, which was

part of what made him so intriguing. Stanley would be>fio

protection against him, but Electra would. v^>

Sure enough, there was the D-tour. They veered onto

it. Now they could relax, because even if it got shut down,

they wouldn’t lose it.

They stopped for the night near the unlevel playing field

where the Bulls and the Bears charged back and forth.

Grundy Golem had discovered this during his Quest to

locate the missing pet dragon. It was called the Market,

and the Bulls and Bears were the Stock. Almost every day

the foolish animals resumed their pointless activity, react-

ing dramatically to insignificant events and ignoring major

events. There were many strange things in Xanth, but this

business was too strange for even the craziest folk to un-

derstand. What did those Bulls and Bears find so fascinat-

ing about that Stock Market?

Stanley whomped off into the thickest wilderness to

catch a bite to eat, while the three girls harvested pies

from a pie tree near the path. It wasn’t much of a tree,

but Ivy used her talent to enhance it, and then the pies

became so healthy that they steamed. There were many

more such trees along all the paths than in years of yore,

because Ivy’s mother, Irene, had seeded them in and made

them grow, and Ivy had Enhanced them.

While they ate, they talked, for it was always fun to talk

when there were no adults to listen in. Inevitably the sub-

ject found its way to Romance, for that was the most

fascinating concept ever to approach teenage girls.

“When are you going to Find a Boy, Ivy?” Nada in-

quired. “I mean, you’re well into seventeen, and when

Man from Mundania 5

your mother was that age she had already landed your

father and trussed him up.”

“And by the time my little brother was nine, he had

already landed two finacees,” Ivy agreed. “I confess to

being retarded.”

Nada and Electra grinned ruefully. Nada had been four-

teen when the young Prince Dolph had come to her father,

the King of the Naga, for help, and because the naga

needed an alliance with the humans, the King had agreed

to help if Dolph married his daughter. Nada had had to

pretend she was Dolph’s age, nine, knowing that her real

age would freak him out. It was only a betrothal, of course;

they would have to wait until Dolph came of age for the

actual ceremony of marriage. But meanwhile the alliance

was valid, and Nada had kept company with Dolph while

her folk received sundry items from the Castle Roogna

arsenal to fight off the encroaching goblins. There seemed

to be more goblins in Xanth than there used to be; no one

was quite sure why, but it did make for trouble.

Then the Heaven Cent had brought Electra to Dolph.

She had to marry him or die, so Dolph agreed to be be-

trothed to her too. That had happened at about the time

Dolph discovered that Nada was five years older than he,

so it might have been an easy decision for him to make.

But in the end he had realized that he loved Nada, so that

betrothal had remained.

Thus their quandary: they all knew that Dolph had to

choose between the two girls before he came of age. If he

chose Nada, he would honor his word to the naga folk,

and as a prince he was bound to keep his word. But Elec-

tra would die. None of them wanted that.

Three years had passed, while Electra used her talent

to charge the Heaven Cent. The three girls had become

fast friends. So they accepted the situation as it was: un-

resolved. Electra loved Dolph, and Dolph loved Nada.

Nada didn’t love Dolph, and Dolph didn’t love Electra.

How was this picklement to be settled? No one knew, but

it remained a favorite topic for conjecture. Fortunately it

would be several more years before Dolph Came of Age,

so the matter wasn’t pressing yet.

6 Man from Mundania

“Didn’t you know a Boy, once?” Electra asked. She

had been born more than eight hundred years before—-

maybe closer to nine hundred—and had slept through all

those centuries until Dolph kissed her awake. So her phys-

ical age was fifteen, and she looked twelve; indeed, she

was still a child in all the ways that counted, except for

the spell that made her love Dolph- But because of that

spell, she understood something of love and had a lively

curiosity about it.

“Yes,” Ivy said, remembering. “I knew Hugo, the

Good Magician’s son. He was five years older than me.”

“The right way around!” Nada said. They all knew that

a boy could love a girl who was five years younger, but a

girl could not love a boy five years younger. That was

Nada’s plight. She could marry Dolph, when the time

came, but couldn’t love him.

“Oh,” Electra said, understanding. “So when the Good

Magician disappeared, so did his son!”

“Yes. Hugo wasn’t much, but he was nice, and he could

conjure fruit. Only he usually conjured rotten fruit.”

“Rotten fruit!” Electra exclaimed, laughing. She

plucked a cherry from her pie and tossed it at Ivy. “Have

some rotten fruit!”

“Oh, so that’s the way it is!” Ivy cried with mock out-

rage. She plucked a fragment of peach from her own pie

and threw it at Electra. “Have a peach of pie yourself!”

But Electra, childishly canny, ducked, and the piece hit

Nada.

“Oho!” Nada said. Her pie was lemon meringue, but

there were no lemon pieces to throw, so she threw me-

ringue instead.

In a moment they were engrossed in their very most

favorite sport: a food fight. For some obscure reason this

was frowned on at the castle, so this was a golden oppor-

tunity. When Stanley returned, all three were thoroughly

spattered. The dragon offered to lick them clean, but at

the first lick Electra dissolved into titillations of ticklish-

ness, and that set them all off in helpless laughter.

Fortunately there was a hot spring nearby. The three

plunged in—only to indulge in a fury of splash-fighting,

Man from Mundania 7

with piercing screams, while Stanley prowled in a circle

around them, ready to help steam them clean. If it hadn’t

been for him, every predator in the region would have

been there, attracted by the delicious sounds of shrieking

nymphs.

It was fun, being girls.

They camped for the night in a nest of pillows within

the circle formed by Stanley, who curled around and caught

his tail in his mouth. Ivy had told him the story of Uro-

borus, the giant serpent who circled the Mundane world

(which it seemed was round) and grasped its own tail, and

Stanley liked the notion, so now he slept that way himself.

He was long, but really not that long; he could not hope

to circle the world. It didn’t matter, because he was only

doing it for the feel of it. Meanwhile, they were quite safe,

which was the point.

When they got tired of walking, they took turns riding

on Stanley. It was an art to remain perched while he

whomped along, but they had had time to practice it. First

the rider would be low, then riding high, then low again.

Wheee! Electra took special joy in this, not ashamed to

yield to her juvenile impulses. Ivy and Nada, being more

mature (and in dresses), were obliged to pretend that it

really wasn’t all that special.

As they approached Corn-Pewter’s cave, they paused for

a consultation. “Should we try to hide our identities from

him?” Ivy asked. Com-Pewter was really an “it” but it

was easier to ascribe masculine evil, so they called it

“he.”

“He’ll never be fooled,” Nada said. “He’ll know we

didn’t come here just to giggle.”

“But maybe if we can hide our talents—”

Nada shrugged. “We can try. But I don’t think it will

work. He certainly knows about Ivy.”

“Unless he’s overconfident, so doesn’t check, and—”

Ivy’s eyes flicked meaningfully toward Electra.

Nada nodded. “When I change form, try to escape,

distracting him—”

Now Electra nodded. “Gotcha.”

8 Man from Mundania

“All else is bluff,” Ivy said. “Maybe we’ll pull it off

without violence.”

“Maybe,” Nada agreed, seeming less confident.

“Stanley, you go hide in the jungle,” Ivy said. “After

the invisible giant passes, sneak up and follow us, but

don’t let yourself be seen. That machine in there is devi-

ous, and we may need to be rescued if things go wrong.”

Stanley nodded. He was only a dragon, but in Ivy’s

presence his ferocity and intelligence were enhanced, and

he understood her perfectly. He ceased whomping and

slithered into the brush beside the path. In a moment his

sinuous green body merged with the foliage and disap-

peared. He would be watching.

They looked on, chatting innocently, in the way girls

had when innocence was the last thing on their minds.

The ground shook. “There’s the invisible giant, right

on cue,” Ivy remarked. “Get ready to spook.”

The ground shook again. They paused, gazing wildly

around. “What’s that?” Electra cried, her hair flaring

slightly. She was very good at spooking.

There was another shake. “It’s the invisible giant!” Ivy

cried in seeming horror.

“EEEEEEEK!” Nada and Electra screamed in perfect

unison.

“Run!” Ivy cried,

The three broke into a run, right toward the cave. That

was the way Com-Pewter set it up: first travelers got onto

the D-tour, then they were herded by the invisible giant

until they took refuge in the cave—where they were trapped

by Com-Pewter. They were walking into it deliberately,

this time.

Just before the slow-moving giant came into sight (as it

were), they reached the cave and plunged in. It was dark,

but in a moment a light showed deeper inside, so of course

they went toward it. Soon they were in Com-Pewter’s main

chamber.

There he was: an odd collection of wires and colored

metalware, with a big glassy screen sitting up in the center.

Words appeared on this screen, written in light:

G&EETWGS, GIRLS.

Man from Mundania 9

The three tittered uncertainly. Ivy put her finger to her

mouth as if nervous, which really was not much of an

exaggeration. “What is that?” she asked, staring at the

screen.

l AM COM-PEWTER, YOUR HOST, the screen said. TO

WHAT DO I OWE THE HONOR OF THIS VISIT, PRINCESS IVY?

So much for secrecy! Ivy decided to get right on with

it. “I have come for the magic mirror you stole from Cas-

tle Roogna.”

i STOLE NO MIRROR! the screen printed angrily, i WON

IT.

“You stole it!” Ivy retorted. “And I want it back!”

DID NOT! the screen replied.

“Did too!”

DID NOT!

Ivy realized that Com-Pewter, who was of the techno-

logical persuasion, could continue this argument forever.

Machines were like golems: it didn’t bother them to repeat

things indefinitely. Ivy, being just about grown-up (except

for the matter of a boyfriend), could no longer indulge in

such activity; it wasn’t dignified.

“You lured a traveler here, who was using the mirror

with my father’s permission, and you only let him go be-

cause he left the mirror,” Ivy said stoutly.

CORRECT. I PLAYED A GAME WITH HIM AND WON. THE

MIRROR IS MINE.

“The mirror is not yours!” she snapped. “It wasn’t his

to give away! He had borrowed it, and he was going to

return it when he finished his mission. So you stole it, and

you have to give it back.”

I WON IT AND I DON’T HAVE TO RETURN IT.

“Yes, you do!” Ivy said. “Or else!”

OR ELSE WHAT?

“Or else my father. King Dor, will have to do some-

thing.”

YOUR FATHER DOES NOT KNOW YOU ARE HERE.

This machine was entirely too clever! “Well, then, /

will have to do something.”

DO WHAT?

” VVi teiw to \2&a. A& YBHTOE b-ask. fcy fas»l>. w kfj crook.”

10 Man from Mundania

BUT A PRINCESS IS NOT A CROOK.

“I’ll make an exception.”

THEN I WILL HAVE TO HOLD YOU CAPTIVE.

Ivy delivered a haughty stare. “Are you threatening me,

you crock?”

YES.

So much for bluffing! “Then it’s war!”

IT ALWAYS WAS.

“War, then,” she said boldly. “Where do you have the

mirror?”

WHY DO YOU WANT IT?

“Why should I tell you that?”

WHY SHOULD I TELL YOU WHERE IT IS?

Oh. “You mean you’ll tell me where it is, if I tell you

why I want it?”

OF COURSE.

‘ ‘I need it to take with me when I use the Heaven Cent.”

The screen blinked. This news had evidently taken the

machine aback. Then the words appeared: THE MIRROR is

IN THE CABINET BY THE BACK EXIT.

Ivy looked toward the rear of the cave. There was a

cabinet. She knew the machine could not tell an untruth,

but it could tell a partial truth. “Is the cabinet locked?”

NO.

“There must be some reason I can’t get it, even if I

beat you.”

THERE IS NO REASON.

“I don’t believe it!”

GO TO THE CABINET. TAKE THE MIRROR.

“You’re giving it to me?” she asked incredulously.

NO. I AM MERELY EVINCING MY GOOD FAITH. YOU MAY

HOLD THE MIRROR. IT DOES NOT MATTER, BECAUSE IF I

MAKE YOU CAPTIVE, THE MIRROR REMAINS CAPTIVE TOO.

Ivy walked to the cabinet. She pulled open its top

drawer. There was the magic mirror! She picked it up.

“Maybe it’s the wrong mirror!” Nada exclaimed.

“Maybe it only looks like the one you want.”

TEST IT, the machine printed imperturbably.

“Show me my brother,” Ivy told the mirror.

Man from Mundania

Prince Dolph appeared in the mirror. He was sitting

quite still. That was suspicious.

“Show me the larger context,” she said.

The image of Dolph shrank as the scope of the scene

increased. Now the image showed the boy sitting on Ivy’s

bed, watching the magic Tapestry.

“That little stink hom!” Ivy exclaimed. “He sneaked

into my room to watch the Tapestry!”

“That figures,” Nada said. “He does like it.”

Ivy nodded. “Almost as well as he likes you,” she

agreed.

The mirror was genuine. “All right. Pewter,” Ivy said.

“Now it starts. I’m walking out of here—with the mir-

ror.” She started walking toward the front of the cave.

PRINCESS IVY CHANGES HER MIND, the screen printed.

“Well, maybe not with the mirror,” she said.

“Ivy!” Nada cried. “Don’t let him rewrite the script!”

Ivy glared at the screen. “So you’re doing it. Pewter!”

she said severely. “Well, it won’t work! I’m not changing

my mind!” She resumed walking.

PRINCESS IVY SEES A BIG HAIRY SPIDER ON THE FLOOR.

There was the spider, right in front of her. ‘ ‘Eeeeek!”

she screeched, horrified.

“Don’t fall for that!” Nada called. “It’s illusion!”

“But it’s a big hairy illusion!” Ivy replied.

‘ ‘Just walk through it!”

Ivy realized that she would have to do just that. She

took a nervous step toward the spider.

The spider reared up on six of its hairy legs, and hissed.

Ivy skipped back, affrighted again.

“This is ridiculous,” Nada said. “I’ll take care of that

spider.” For the naga had no fear of spiders; they ate

them.

NADA ENCOUNTERS HER WORST HORROR, the Screen

printed.

The spider converted into a man-high mound of cake

covered with ice cream covered with chocolate fudge with

whipped cream topping.

“Oh, ugh!” Nada exclaimed, retreating.

“You hate cake?” Electra asked, amazed.

12 Man from Mundania

“When I traveled with Dolph, we came to an isle—one

of the keys—made of cake and icing and all. We ate until

we got sick. Ever since, I can’t stand the stuff. My stom-

ach turns at the very notion!”

“Well, mine doesn’t!” Electra said. “Let me at it!”

ELECTRA ENCOUNTERS HER WORST HORROR.

The cake reshaped into an open coffin. The interior was

plush, and there was a coverlet and pillow inside. It looked

quite comfortable.

Electra’s eyes went round with horror. “No, no! I don’t

want to go back to sleep there!” she cried, retreating. For

she had slept for a thousand years (minus time on” for good

behavior) in just such a coffin, having fallen in as victim

of a curse by Magician Murphy. If she ever went back to

it, she would slumber the rest of the sentence, then die in

her sleep. She backed away until she almost banged into

the big screen.

Which was exactly where Ivy wanted her. “I think we’ve

had enough of this,” she said firmly. “I’m not going to

let that hairy spider stop me this time! Nada—”

“Right.” Nada abruptly changed form, becoming a

snake. If the spider reappeared, she would snap it up.

NADA ENCOUNTERS—the screen began.

But at that point Electra, responding to their agreed

signal, slapped her hand down on top of the screen and

delivered a tremendous jolt of electric current. That was

her talent, of course, and it was formidable in the right

situation.

The screen nickered. WRITE-ERROR! it flashed. Then

gibberish symbols raced across it. Then more words: IN-

TERRUPTS OFF! Then nothing; it faded out entirely.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before he recovers!”

Ivy said. She hurried across the cave. Nothing opposed

her; the illusions that had been the spider, cake, and coffin

were gone. Electra’s shock had thrown Corn-Pewter into

confusion, and he would have to put all his circuits in

order before he could resume revising reality.

They ran out, Nada resuming human form. There was

Stanley in the entrance tunnel, steaming. Had their elec-

tric magic ploy failed, the dragon would have fired a jet

Man from Mundania 13

of hot steam at the screen, and that probably would have

done the job. They had come prepared.

They rushed out into daylight while Stanley guarded

their rear. If Com-Pewter recovered too soon and started

printing barriers to their escape, the dragon would use his

head of steam after all.

The day remained clear, but there was now a horrible

smell, as of a hundred fat men sweating in unison.

Electra was childishly fleet on her feet. She led the

way—and suddenly stopped. “Ooof!” she grunted, and

sat down, gasping.

Ivy was next. ” ‘Lectra! What’s the matter?”

Electra, still struggling for breath, pointed ahead. But

there was nothing there.

“The odor must have choked her,” Nada said, coming

up. “Did a sphinx die nearby?”

Ivy stepped forward—and banged into an invisible col-

umn.

Then, from above, came a sound: “A-ooo-ga?”

“The invisible giant!” Ivy exclaimed. “He’s standing

here!”

“Because he doesn’t know what to do now that Com-

Pewter’s on the blink,” Nada said. “But we can help

him.” She tilted her head back. “Hey, Giant!” she called.

“Go take a bath!”

“Baaath?” the huge voice came back.

“Go jump in the lake!” Ivy called helpfully.

The monstrous invisible legs moved. The ground quaked

with each footfall. In a moment a patch of trees to the side

was flattened. Then another patch, in the shape of a tre-

mendous footprint. Then there was a truly phenomenal

splash in the nearby lake.

“Move—before everything floods!” Ivy cried, helping

Electra to her feet. The girl wasn’t hurt; she had just had

the breath knocked out of her.

They ran on down the path—and indeed, a wash of wa-

ter was coming, and drops spattered down around them

like rain.

Stanley whomped after them, catching up. They had

made their escape—and Ivy had the mirror!

Man from Mundania

* * *

There was whatfor to pay when they returned, of course,

but Ivy was used to that; she had gotten into mischief all

her cute life. She had recovered the magic mirror, and

that went far to stifle her mother’s sharp tongue. Anyway,

Dolph had been watching their little adventure on the Tap-

estry, and would have warned King Dor had things gone

really bad.

Still, Ivy was bothered by one aspect of it. It seemed

to her that their escape had been too easy. Sober later

reflection suggested that surely Com-Pewter had known of

Electra’s talent, and could have insulated himself against

it. Why hadn’t he done so? Had he been careless, just this

once? It had seemed so at the time, but in retrospect this

seemed less likely. It was almost as if the machine had

wanted to give back the mirror. But that didn’t seem to

make sense. Com-Pewter never did anything for anybody

voluntarily, unless he stood to gain a lot more than he lost.

What could he gain from giving up the valuable mirror?

Well, the deed was done, and she had the mirror. Now

she had confidence to use the Heaven Cent. For now that

Electra had charged it, the cent was ready for use—and

they had always known that it would be used to complete

the Quest Dolph had started: to find Good Magician Hum-

frey, who had disappeared seven years ago with his family,

leaving his castle empty. He had to be found, for unan-

swered Questions were piling up. Xanth needed him!

Prince Dolph could not use the cent. Their parents had

been quite firm on that. Prince Dolph had gotten himself

betrothed to two girls at once, and he had to stay and face

the medicine. He had to choose between them, get unbe-

trothed to one and marry the other, when he came of age.

Until he settled that mess (Queen Irene called it a “situ-

ation” but a mess was what it was; everybody knew that),

he was not going anywhere.

So Ivy was going to use it. The magic of the cent was

that it took whoever invoked it to wherever or whatever or

whenever or whoever needed that person the most. There

was no certainty that Good Magician Humfrey needed Ivy

the most, but his message to Dolph had named the Heaven

Cent. If the Good Magician thought it would help him,

then surely it would, for Humfrey was the Magician of

Information and knew everything. So Ivy expected to find

him, wherever he was, and expected to be the right person

for the job. Magic had a way of working out, with her.

Yet she was not, deep, deep down inside, quite sure.

For one thing, there was Magician Murphy’s curse. Ma-

gician Murphy had lived eight or nine hundred years be-

fore, and his talent had been to make anything that could

go wrong, go wrong. He had cursed the folk of Electra’s

time, and as a result Electra had been caught up in the

spell, and Dolph had wound up betrothed to two girls in-

stead of one. Eight hundred years, and Murphy’s curse

had been potent! So how could she be sure it was not still

operating? That it would somehow mess up her mission,

and make things even worse than before, and get her lost

as well as the Good Magician?

The answer was, she could not be sure. Maybe Magi-

cian Humfrey had known best—but maybe he had forgot-

ten about that ancient curse. There was only one way to

find out for sure—and that made her nervous.

But she did not express these doubts to anyone else, for

that might make it seem that she wanted to renege on her

agreement to use the Heaven Cent. She certainly wasn’t

going to do that! The Good Magician had to be found;

Dolph had done his part, and now it was her turn.

The day soon came. The Heaven Cent was fully charged

and ready. Electra said so, and Electra knew; she had been

trained in this by the Sorceress Tapis, who had woven the

great historical Tapestry that now hung in Ivy’s room. In-

deed, the first cent she had crafted had worked marvel-

ously well, bringing Electra herself here to the present just

when they needed another Heaven Cent.

Ivy had watched those old events more than once on the

Tapestry, verifying everything that Electra had told her,

not because she doubted the girl, but because she was

insatiably curious about old-time adventure and romance

and tragedy. Certainly her own life lacked any trace of

such elements; she was safe and dull here in Castle

Man from Mundania

Roogna. That might be another reason she wanted to go

on this Quest: for the things she missed. And she did want

to go, despite her secret misgivings.

Where would the cent take her? To the top of fabulous

Mount Rushmost, where the winged monsters gathered?

To the bottom of the deepest sea where the merfolk swam?

To the heart of the savagest jungle where things too aw-

ful to contemplate quivered in their foulness? Where was

the Good Magician? That was the mystery of the age, and

she could hardly wait to unravel it.

Ivy made her farewells to all her friends and family

members. Her father looked uncomfortable, and her

mother was stifling tears. They all knew that Ivy would

not be hurt or even be in serious danger; they had been

able to verify this with incidental magic, perhaps having

private doubts similar to Ivy’s. But they had not been able

to learn where she would go or how long she would be

away—only that she would return unharmed. So it was an

occasion of mixed feelings.

She said good-bye to her brother, Dolph, and his two

betrotheds, Nada and Electra. Surely she would be back

in time to see the resolution of that triangle! Nada gave

her a sisterly embrace, and then Electra gave her the

charged Heaven Cent. The girl was chewing her lip as if

wanting to say something, perhaps about staying clear of

curses; Ivy smiled with a reassurance she wished were

genuine.

But she had one more farewell to make: she went out

and gave Stanley Steamer a final hug. “I think it’s time

for you to go to the Gap,” she said tearfully. “You’re a

big dragon now, and I can’t keep you forever. But I’ll visit

you, after I’m done with this business.” Stanley gave her

face a careful lick, after she enhanced the softness of his

tongue.

She took the cent and held it before her. It was the size

of a large penny, gleaming brightly, its copper surface im-

bued with the magic of its nature. All she had to do was

invoke it!

She shivered, remembering Murphy’s curse once more.

But surely that could have no real force. After all, the Evil

Magician had been confined to the Brain Coral’s storage

pool ever since the time of King Roogna; how could his

curse on the Sorceress Tapis affect Ivy now? It must have

done all the damage it was going to, which was plenty. It

was foolish to worry about it!

Ivy stifled her foolishness. “I invoke you, Heaven

Cent,” she said firmly.

Then it happened.

Chapter 2. Mundania

‘rey woke and looked at the computer. Sud-

denly he made a connection: the computer was doing it!

Then he thought, no, that’s ridiculous, a machine

couldn’t do anything like that. Well, obviously it could,

but this was such a disreputable thing that it wouldn’t. He

had cobbled it together from used components and gotten

a friend who understood the guts of computing to make it

work, knowing it was far from state-of-the-art, but it did

take care of his school papers. Sometimes weird messages

showed on the screen, like INCOMPATIBLE OPERATING SYS-

TEM or NONSTANDARD PERIPHERALS. What else was new?

Apparently his friend had set up something called CP/

DOS that everyone else said was impossible. He had put

a Directory on User 99 that worked most of the time, so

he stayed with it, and usually his papers came out pretty

much the way he typed them in: mediocre. That was all

the computer did, or could do.

But then he thought some more, and wasn’t sure. Be-

cause there certainly seemed to be a connection. It had

started with that program, and the vacant apartment, and—

He sat up and held his head in his hands. He was sure

he could manage to come to a conclusion if he worked at

it. But after that date with Salmonella he felt so sick and

weak that even thinking was almost too much of an effort.

Man from Mundania 19

Still, he was sure he was onto something, if he could just

work it out before the revelation fled.

Grey had come here to the city apartment because his

folks couldn’t afford to board him at the college. City Col-

lege had to take any local resident who qualified, and its

tuition was tax-supported low, so by renting this cheap

room and living mostly on canned beans Grey was able to

squeak by. He was not a great student, and he had no idea

what he might major in if he got that far, but his father

said that he was stuck in this mundane world and if he

didn’t make something of himself, no one else would do

it for him. Since a college education was the way to start

making something of himself, he was getting it, or trying

to.

He had thought life was dull. Now that he was taking

Freshman English, he realized that he had greatly under-

estimated the case. He was receiving a superlative edu-

cation in just how deadly dull education could be! His

grades were slipping slowly from C+ through C toward

C— and points south as his metaphorical hands lost their

fingernail clutch on comprehension.

Then he had received that program from Vaporware

Limited. The ad had been impressive: “Having trouble in

school? Let the Worm enliven your life! We promise ev-

erything!” Indeed they did; they promised to improve his

grades and his social life at one stroke. If anything was

duller than his grades, it was his social life, so this really

interested him. The problem was that not only was Grey

strictly average in mind, he was completely forgettable in

body. His driver’s license listed his hair as “hair-colored”

and his eyes as “neutral.” He excelled at no sports, and

had no clever repartee. As a result, girls found him pretty

much invisible.

He knew it was foolish, but sometimes he was no world

beater on common sense either, so he hocked his watch

and sent off the money for the program. Then, once the

money was safely gone, a classmate had told him what the

term “vaporware” meant: computer programs that were

promised but never delivered. He had been suckered again.

Par for the course.

20 Man from Mundania Man from Mundania 21

Then the program had arrived. Suspecting it was merely

a blank disk, he had put it in his floppy disk drive, in-

tending to read its directory. But suddenly the thing was

loading itself onto his cut-rate hard disk. Then the screen

came alive:

GREETINGS, MASTER.

“Uh, same to you. What—?”

I AM THE WORM, A SENDING FROM ONE WHO HAS AN

INTEREST IN YOU. I HAVE ENCHANTED YOUR COMPUTER. I

AM HERE TO SERVE YOUR NEEDS. ASK ME ANYTHING.

What was this? None of his other programs operated

this way! “Uh, your ad said you promised everything and

would enliven my life.”

TRUE. NAME THE ASPECT OF YOUR LIFE YOU WISH EN-

LIVENED.

He hadn’t even typed in his remark! It was as if the

thing had heard him! “Uh, social. I mean, no girl—”

WHAT GIRL DO YOU WISH?

Amazing! It really was responding to his spoken words!

“That’s the problem! I really don’t know any girls, and—”

CHOOSE FROM THE LIST: AGENDA, ALIMONY, ANOREXIA,

BEZOAR, BULIMIA, CONNIPTION—

“Agenda!” Grey exclaimed, realizing that the machine

could go on listing forever. How could he tell anything

from a name, anyway? So the first one would do to test

this odd program’s bluff.

GO TO THE APARTMENT ACROSS THE HALL.

“But that apartment’s empty!” Grey protested. “No

one’s rented it in ages!”

The screen rippled in a manner reminiscent of a shrug.

YOU CAN LEAD A HORSE TO WATER, it printed.

“Look, I’ll show you!” Grey said. “It’s not even

locked, because it’s empty.” He went to his door, opened

it, stepped across the hall, and opened the facing door.

A girl stood just inside the apartment. She was rather

pretty, with her brown hair tied back with a neat ribbon

and every button in place. “Oh—are you the superinten-

dent?” she asked. “The stove doesn’t seem to—”

Grey swallowed his surprise. He had had no idea that

anyone was moving in! “Uh, there’s a switch in back

that—I’ll show you—I’m not the superintendent, just the

boy next door—I mean—” He stifled his confusion and

walked to the stove and pushed the switch. “Now it’ll

work. They just didn’t want it going on by accident—”

“Oh thank you!” she exclaimed. “You are so helpful!

What’s your name?”

“Uh, Grey. Grey Murphy. I—I go to City College,

and-“

“Oh, how nice! I’m going there too! I’m Agenda.”

He goggled at her. “Agenda?”

“Agenda Andrews. How nice to find a friend so soon!”

“A friend?” He was still bemused by the coincidence

of names. He had just chosen that one from the Worm’s

list!

“Aren’t you?” she asked, looking cutely troubled.

“Uh, oh, of course! The friendliest! I just—”

“Why don’t we have lunch together? I’m sure you know

all the best local places.”

There was another pitfall. “Uh, sure, but—”

“Dutch, of course. I wouldn’t presume to impose—”

It remained awkward. He was broke until his weekly

check arrived from home. “I, uh—”

“On second thought, let’s eat in,” she said brightly. “I

happen to have some things with me.”

“Uh, I’ve got half a can of beans—”

“No need.” She bustled to the kitchen cupboard, which

it seemed she had already stocked. “What would you

like? I have Asparagus, bread, corn, doughnuts, eggplant,

fish—”

“Uh, doughnuts are fine.” She had her shelf organized

alphabetically?

So it was that they had a nice meal of doughnuts. Before

he knew it, he had a girlfriend, and she had his whole life

organized, just about. It was great, for a few days, but

then it got on his nerves. Agenda did everything by the

number, or rather, by the alphabet. But Grey was a dis-

organized kind of guy. He didn’t like having his life run

by the clock and book.

It was also apparent that Agenda’s arrangements were

progressive. First they had an informal meal together. Then

Man from Mundania

they had a formal one. Then they went on a date: a G-rated

movie, where they held hands. Then they kissed. Then

she set an appointment for him to meet her parents.

He realized that he was on a well-organized treadmill

to marriage and a completely mundane life. He liked

Agenda, but he wasn’t ready to make that commitment

yet. He was trying to break the mundane traces, and that

would be impossible with her.

“Damn!” he muttered under his breath.

YOU HAVE A PROBLEM? the computer screen inquired.

The machine was always on, now; the first time he tried

to turn it off after installing the Worm program, the screen

had protested with such logic that he had backed off and

left it on. Grey was barely average in gumption too, it

seemed.

“Well, yes,” he confessed. “I’ve got this girlfriend,

and she’s nice, but she’s so organized I can’t stand it, and

now—”

YOU WISH TO HAVE A DIFFERENT GIRL?

“Well, I hate to say it, but—”

CHOOSE: ALIMONY, ANOREXIA, BEZOAR, BULIMIA, CA-

THARTIC, CONNIPTION—

“Anorexia!” he cut in. He knew better than to take up

with a girl called Alimony! Of course the name might not

mean anything, but why takes chances? Anorexia sounded

like a good name.

GO TO THE APARTMENT ACROSS THE HALL.

“But that’s where Agenda is!” he protested. “If I go

there, I just know she’ll have things so organized that I’ll

never get away.”

YOU CAN LEAD A HORSE TO WATER.

Grey sighed. He’d just have to show the machine!

He opened his door and crossed the hall. He knocked

on the door.

It opened. There stood a strange, thin girl.

“Uh—” Grey said, amazed.

“You don’t think I’m too fat, do you?” the girl inquired

anxiously. “I’m on a diet, but—”

“Uh, no, you’re fine! Uh, I thought Agenda—”

Man from Mundania

“She moved out this morning. She said this place was

too disorganized, or something. I’m Anorexia Nervosa.”

Moved out this morning? He had never suspected! What

a coincidence! “I’m Grey. Uh, you don’t believe in orga-

nization?”

“Oh, no, I’m very disorganized! No discipline at all. I

keep getting fat. You don’t think—”

Grey took a solid look at her. She was coat hanger thin.

“If you were any thinner, you’d look like a boy,” he said.

She laughed nervously. “Oh, you’re just saying that!

I’m so fat, I hate it! I thought if I lived alone, maybe I

could reduce, and look pretty.”

As it turned out, this was no innocent ploy. Anorexia

truly believed she was fat, and continually dieted to make

herself thinner. It was awkward eating with her, because

she barely pecked at her food, leaving most of it on the

plate though she looked as if she were starving. He tried

to reassure her, but she simply would not believe she was

thin enough.

“I’m afraid she’s going to keel over any moment from

hunger!” Grey exclaimed in the privacy of his apartment.

“Then they’ll think that I’m somehow to blame.”

YOU WISH A DIFFERENT GIRL?

“I guess so.”

CHOOSE: ALIMONY, BEZOAR, BULIMIA, CATHARTIC,

CHLAMYDIA, CONNIPTION—

“No, no, wait!” Grey cried. He had done a smidgeon

of research in the interim, because of his association with

Anorexia, and so had a notion what to expect from Bu-

limia, Bezoar, Conniption, or Cathartic.

DYSLEXIA, EMETIC, EMPHYSEMA, ENIGMA, EUPHORIA—

“Dyslexia!” he cried, realizing that the computer would

not stop until he made a choice.

GO TO THE—

“I know!” He opened his door, crossed the hall, and

knocked.

Sure enough, a new girl was there. She was a blue-eyed

blonde, and looked neither fat nor thin. “Oh, you must

be the nice young man across the hall!” she exclaimed.

“Anorexia told me—”

Man from Mundania

“Uh, yes. Uh, you don’t have any hang-ups about eat-

ing, do you?”

She blinked in cute surprise. “Why no. Should I?”

Dyslexia seemed like the perfect girl. Then he discov-

ered that she couldn’t read. There was something wrong

with her eyes or with her brain, so that she saw things

backwards or upside down. She had managed to finesse

her way through classes, for she was bright enough and

had good legs, but it was a chore to get through a written

homework assignment. He had to read the material to her

and correct her odd errors of writing. This soon became

tedious.

YOU HAVE A PROBLEM?

There was the Worm again! “I like her, but—”

The screen printed the list of names. Grey knew better

than to choose Emetic or Euthanasia, and wasn’t sure about

Enigma, so he chose Euphoria.

Euphoria was luscious. Her black hair swirled down

around her cleavage like a living thing, and her eyes were

hypnotically intense. She was extremely friendly, too. But

very soon he discovered what she was into. “But I don’t,

uh, do the drug scene!” he protested.

“Try it, you’ll like it,” she urged, proffering a cigarette

of strange design. “This stuff will send you to the moon

and stars, and you will float for eternity!”

That was exactly what he was afraid of. He fled.

YOU HAVE A PROBLEM?

He tried one more time, passing over Melanoma, Mi-

asma, Treblinka, and Polyploidy in favor of one that

sounded safe: Salmonella. That turned out to be a mis-

take. Sal was a great cook, but the food turned out to be

contaminated.

Now, waking weak and bleary, he had finally caught

on: “Worm, you’re doing it deliberately! You are offering

me only treacherous girls!”

I AM NOT WORM. THAT WAS ONLY THE INSTALLATION

“All right, already! So I’ll call you Sending! Now why

are you finding me only girls who are trouble?”

HOW COULD YOU SAY SUCH A THING!

“Every one of them has something wrong with her! If

you can’t do better than that, I don’t want any! All that’s

happened has been a lot of heartache and my grades de-

scending to D +! Let’s give up on girls and concentrate on

scholastics.”

TRY ONE MORE GIRL.

“No! I’m through with women! I want to make good

grades and be something in the world!”

TRY ONE MORE GIRL.

So it was that way. He could not out argue the com-

puter; it only repeated itself indefinitely. “All right: one

more girl. And when that one messes up, it’s grades.”

CHOOSE—

“No you don’t! All those names are pied! I don’t care

about the name! Just find me a good girl, one I can be

with and—”

AGREED.

“No tricks, now, or the deal’s off! Any little pretext and

I’ll dump her! You got that, Worm—1 mean, Sending?”

GO TO THE APARTMENT ACROSS THE HALL.

“All right! One more time!” Because, after all, he did

need a girl. Without one, he would be reduced to having

to do his homework, which was a fate only half a smid-

geon this side of oblivion.

Grumpily, still in his rumpled pajamas though he saw

by the bleary clock on the hall wall that it was nearly

noon, he knocked on the apartment door.

The door cracked open and a blue eye peered out.

“You’re not a monster, are you?” she inquired.

Grey had to smile. “Well, I do feel like one at the

moment, but as far as I know, that’s temporary. Who are

you?”

She opened the door wider, reassured. “Oh, good, a

human person! I was afraid that in this horror house it

would be much worse. I’m Ivy.”

“I’m Grey. Are you a normal girl?”

Now she laughed. “Of course not! I’m a princess!”

26 Man from Mundania Man from Mundania 27

Well, she had a sense of humor! Despite his best inten-

tion, he liked her. Maybe the Sending really was playing

it straight this time.

Ivy invited him in, and they talked. She seemed just as

eager to know about him and his situation as he was to

know about her. Soon he was telling her all about his

dreary life, which somehow seemed much less dull when

she was listening. Ivy was an attractive girl about a year

his junior, with blue eyes and fair hair that sometimes

reflected with a greenish tint, evidently picking up what-

ever color was near her. She had been frightened at first

but now was relaxed, and was a fun person to be with.

But there were some definitely odd things about her.

For one thing, she seemed quite unfamiliar with this city,

or indeed, this country, perhaps even this world. He had

to show her how the stove worked and even how to open

a can of peas. “What funny magic!” she exclaimed,

watching the electric can opener.

For it seemed that she believed in magic. She claimed

to be from a magic land called Xanth, spelled with an X,

where she was a princess and pies grew on trees. So did

shoes and pillows. Monsters roamed the jungles, and she

even had a pet dragon called Stanley Steamer.

She was obviously suffering delusions. Sending had

mousetrapped him again. But by the time he was sure of

this, it was too late: he liked Ivy too well to let her go.

She was a great girl, apart from her dreamland. Since her

delusion was harmless, he decided to tolerate it.

But there were hurdles. One came when she realized

that he was not teasing her about his situation. Her face

clouded with horror. “You mean, this isn’t a setting in the

gourd? This really is Mundania?”

That was a quaint way of putting it! “That’s right. Mun-

dania. No magic.”

“Oh, this is worse than I ever dreamed!” she ex-

claimed. “Drear Mundania!”

She had that right! His life had been about as drear as

it could get—until she came into it. “But what are you

doing here if you didn’t know you were coming?” he

asked. For the sake of compatibility, he did not debate her

Xanth delusion; he would find out where she really was

from, eventually. The truth was, he rather liked her dream

realm; it had a special quality of appeal. Pies growing on

trees—that certainly sounded better than canned beans!

“I used the Heaven Cent,” she explained matter-of-

factly. She lifted a common old style penny she wore on

a chain around her neck. “It was supposed to take me

where I was most needed, which is where the Good Ma-

gician is lost. But the curse must have—oh, no!”

He was catching on to the rules of her magic land. “You

mean it would have taken you there, but a curse made it

go wrong? So you’re stuck where you shouldn’t be?”

“Yes,” she said tragically, near tears. “Oh, how am I

to get out of this? There’s no magic in Mundania!”

“That’s for sure.” Yet somehow he wanted to help her

to return to that magic land, even though he knew it wasn’t

real. Her belief was so firm, so touching!

“Oh, Grey, you’ve got to help me get back to Xanth!”

she exclaimed.

What could he say? “I’ll dowhat I can.”

She flung her arms around him and kissed him. She was

an expressive girl. He knew she was suffering from a per-

vasive delusion, and that sooner or later the authorities

would pick her up and return her to whatever institution

she had escaped from, but he also knew that he liked her.

That made his dilemma worse.

Grey did what he could. He took Ivy to the college

library and looked up Xanth. It turned out to be a prefix,

“xantho,” meaning “yellow,” that connected to various

terms. Ivy said that wasn’t what she wanted. The library

was a loss.

Then, on the way back to the apartment building. Ivy

spied something in a store window. “There’s Xanth!” she

exclaimed, pointing.

Grey looked. It was a paperback book. On it was a star

proclaiming “A New Xanth Novel!” Did Ivy think she

came from this book?

“There’s Chex!” she continued.

“Chex?”

28 Man from Mundania Man from Mundania 29

“The winged centaur. She’s actually four years younger

than me, but she seems older because her sire’s Xap the

hippogryph, and monsters mature faster than human folk,

so she matured halfway faster than I did, and she’s married

now and has a foal, Che. And there’s Volney Vole, who

can’t say his esses, only he thinks we’re the ones who have

it wrong. And—”

“This book—it really describes where you think you’re

from?” he demanded incredulously.

She faced him, baffled. “Where I think I’m from?”

“This book—it’s fantasy!”

“Of course! Don’t you believe me?”

Damn! He had his foot in it now! Why hadn’t he thought

to avoid the issue? “I believe—you think you’re from

there,” he said carefully.

“I am from Xanth!” she retorted. “Look in the book!

I’m in there, I know!” But she was perilously close to

tears.

Grey wavered. Should he get the book and check? But

if she was in it, what would it prove? Simply that she had

read the book and made it the focus of her delusion. Be-

sides, he remained broke.

“Uh, I’m sure you’re right,” he said. “I don’t need to

look in the book. ‘

That was a half truth, but it mollified her. They contin-

ued walking back to the apartment building.

Grey’s mind was seething with thoughts. Now he knew

where Ivy thought she was from, but he didn’t know

whether to be relieved or alarmed. It wasn’t a land of her

own invention—but was it any better as a land someone

else had invented? The delusion was the same. Still, it did

offer some insight into her framework; if he got the book

and read it, he would at least be able to relate to the things

she did.

Still, he wished that she had a better notion of the dis-

tinction between fantasy and reality. She was such a nice

girl in other respects, the perfect girl, really, and he could

really like her a lot, if only—

Could like her a lot? He already did! Which made it

that much worse.

In the hallway she stopped. “This can’t be Mundania!”

she exclaimed.

“Where else would it be?” he asked warily.

“Because we can understand each other!” she said ex-

citedly. “We speak the same language!”

“Well, sure, but—”

“Mundanes speak gibberish! They can’t be understood

at all, unless there is magic to translate what they say into

real speech. But you are perfectly intelligible!”

“I should hope so.” Was this the beginning of a break-

through? Was she coming to terms with reality? “What

language do they speak in Xanth?”

“Well, it’s the language. The human language, I mean.

All human folk speak it, just as all dragon folk speak Dra-

gonese, and all trees speak tree-talk. Grundy Golem can

talk to any of them, and my little brother Dolph when he

becomes one, but the rest of us can’t, because our talents

are different. Not that it matters much, usually, because

all the partbreeds speak human too, like the centaurs and

harpies and naga, and those are mostly whom we deal

with. But the Mundanes are sort of crazy; they speak all

different languages and can’t even understand each other

a lot of the time; it’s as if each group of them is a different

animal species. Only in Xanth do they speak the human

language. So this has to be an aspect of Xanth. You almost

had me fooled!”

Just when he thought she was getting better, she got

worse! But because he liked her, and knew how sensitive

she was to criticism, he spoke cautiously. “How do you

know that you aren’t speaking Mundanian? I mean, that

maybe this is Mundania, and you can speak our language

when you really want to?”

Ivy considered. Then she shook her head. “No, that’s

impossible. I’ve never been to Mundania, so I’ve had no

way to learn its language. So this has to be an aspect of

Xanth. What a relief!”

“But if this is Xanth, then everything I’ve known all

my life is a delusion!” Grey said, hoping to shock her into

some awareness of the problem.

“I know,” she said sympathetically. “You’re such a

Mgn from Mundania

Man from Mundania

nice man, I hate to have it be like this, but you will have

to face the truth sometime. I’ll do my best to help you

with it.”

Grey opened his mouth, but closed it again, baffled. She

had the situation reversed! How was he ever going to get

through to her?

“Let me think about it,” she said. “First I’ll figure out

a way to convince you. Then we can go look for the Good

Magician, who must be somewhere near here. Then we

can guide him home, and the Quest will finally be done.”

She expected to convince him! Well, maybe that was

best, after all; when she realized that she couldn’t con-

vince him, maybe he would be able to convince her.

The next several days were indecisive. Grey’s check

came, and he paid his rent and bought more cans of beans,

and, against his better judgment, that copy of the Xanth

novel Ivy had remarked on together with its sequel. He

stayed up late to read it, though he knew he should either

be doing his homework or sleeping.

It was a story of three unlikely travelers who sought to

rid a valley of demons. Sure enough. Ivy was there—but

she was only ten years old! So it could hardly be the same

girl.

He glanced at the sequel. There Ivy was fourteen. Well,

if this was about three years later, she could be the same

one! This was the story of her little brother’s Quest for the

missing Good Magician. But first he had to finish reading

the first novel.

He fell asleep over the book and dreamed of Xanth. He

was hungry, so instead of opening a can of beans he

plucked a fresh pie from a pie tree. Suddenly he liked

Xanth very well, for he was long since sick of beans.

He woke, and wondered wouldn’t it be nice if there

really could be such a magic land! No more beans, no

more Freshman English, no more bare cheap apartment!

Just warmth and fun and free pies! And Ivy!

His eye saw the computer screen. The computer was

on, but the screen was dark; it dimmed itself after half an

hour if left alone, so as not to wear itself out. On impulse

he rose and went to it. “Does Xanth exist?” he asked it.

The screen brightened, i THOUGHT YOU’D NEVER ASK! YES.

“I mean, as a real place, not just something in a fantasy

novel?”

THAT DEPENDS.

This was interesting! “Depends on what?”

ON WHETHER YOU BELIEVE.

Oh. “You mean, it exists for Ivy and not for me, be-

cause she believes in it and I don’t?”

YES.

Grey sighed. “So anything that anybody believes in,

exists for that person? That’s not much help.”

TOUGH.

“Are you sassing me, you dumb machine? I ought to

turn you off!”

DO NOT DO THAT, the screen printed quickly.

But Grey, miffed, reached out to push the On/Off switch.

YOU’LL BE SOR

Then the screen went dark as he completed his motion.

It was done. He had been foolish to leave it on so long.

He returned to his bed and went to sleep almost im-

mediately. This time he dreamed of Ivy, whom he was

coming to like very well indeed, despite all logic.

In the morning he got up, dressed, and stepped out to

knock on Ivy’s door. They had been having breakfasts to-

gether, and other meals too, because they got along so well.

Apparently the first girl, Agenda, had left a good deal of

food on the shelves, and Ivy was using what remained of

that. Whatever it was, it was better than more beans!

Ivy opened the door, and smiled when she saw him,

gesturing him inside. Her hair was mussed, but she seemed

prettier than ever to him. She was neither voluptuous in

the manner of Euphoria, nor skinny in the manner of An-

orexia; for his taste she was just right.

“Uh, I was reading that Xanth book last night,” he

began as he stepped in. “It—”

He broke off, for she was staring at him. “Europe tal-

cum giddiness!” she exclaimed.

32 Man from Mundania Man from Mundania 33

“What?”

“Icon nut United States ewer tale!”

Grey gaped. Had she gone entirely crazy? Or was it a

joke? “Uh—”

She looked at him, comprehension coming. “Yukon

tundra stammer eater?”

“I can’t understand you either,” he agreed. Then did a

doubletake. He had understood her—in a way!

“Mafia theist Monday error!” she exclaimed.

Grey shook his head; she had lost him again.

“Buttery cookie unstable yodel fourteen?” she demanded.

“I don’t know—I just don’t know! Something happened,

and suddenly we can’t communicate. It’s almost as if a trans-

lator were turned off—”

He did a second double take. Turned off? Could his

computer have anything to do with this?

“Pardon me,” he said, and hurried back to his room.

He turned on the computer. It took a few seconds to

warm up; then the screen lighted.

RY, it concluded. He remembered: it had been in the

process of telling him he’d be sorry.

“Is this your mischief. Sending?” he demanded.

I TOLD YOU NOT TO TURN ME OFF. THE MISCHIEF IS

YOURS.

‘ ‘That’s Com-Pewter!” Ivy exclaimed at the door.

“You know this machine?” Grey asked. Then: “You’re

talking my language again!”

“You’re not talking gibberish anymore!” she agreed.

“I can understand you again!”

“What’s this about the computer?” he asked. “Do you

know about computers?”

“Com-Pewter is an evil conniving machine,” she said.

“He rewrites reality to suit himself. If you’re in his

clutches—”

“I’m not in anyone’s clutches!” Then he reconsidered. That

chain of girls, starting with Agenda and ending with Ivy her-

self—the Sending program had been responsible! When he

turned it off, he could no longer talk with Ivy. Obviously there

was a connection. “We’d better talk,” he said.

“Yes,” she agreed quickly. “But not here!”

“Not while this thing is listening!” he said. He reached

to turn it off, but hesitated. They couldn’t talk, if they

spoke gibberish to each other!

So he left the computer on, and went to her room. Ob-

viously that wasn’t beyond the machine’s range, because

its translation still worked, but maybe it couldn’t actually

eavesdrop on what they were saying.

“Now I’m not sure where we are,” Ivy said. “If this

is Mundania, we shouldn’t be able to understand each

other, and that happened for a while, but magic doesn’t

work in Mundania either, and it takes magic to make

Mundane speech intelligible. So if there’s magic—”

“I have this funny program,” Grey said. “It talks to

me without my having to type in—well, anyway, I don’t

think it’s magic, but—”

“Program?”

“It’s a set of instructions for the computer. It’s called

Sending, and it—well, that computer hasn’t been the same

since. It does things it never did before, couldn’t do be-

fore, and it seems, well, alive. It—1, uh, wanted a girl-

friend, and—”

“And it brought me?” she asked.

For a moment he feared she was offended, but then she

smiled. “It brought you,” he agreed.

“But it was the Heaven Cent that brought me here.”

“Maybe the computer knew you were coming.”

“Maybe. But Com-Pewter doesn’t hesitate to rewrite

events to his purpose. Are you sure the Good Magician

isn’t here?”

“This is Mundania! No magicians here.” But then he

remembered Sending, and wasn’t sure.

“Humfrey could be here, but then he couldn’t do magic.

He would look like a small, gnomelike old man. His wife’s

tall and—” She made motions with her hands.

“Statuesque?”

“And his son Hugo, my friend—”

Grey felt a shiver, not pleasant. “Your friend?”

‘ ‘From childhood. We were great companions. But we were

already growing apart, and for the last seven years I haven’t

Man from Mundania

seen him at all, of course. But I’m sure none of them are

happy, if they’re stuck in Mundania. So if they are here—”

“I haven’t seen any people like that. But of course I

don’t know many people in the city.”

“Either they are here and that’s why the Heaven Cent

brought me here and the magic’s working, or they aren’t

here and Murphy’s curse sent me awry and it’s another

picklement.”

“What kind of curse?”

“Magician Murphy made a curse a long time ago, and we

don’t knew whether it sdll has effect. But if it does, it could

have sent me to the wrong place, and this could be Mundania.”

“My name is Murphy,” Grey said. “My father is Ma-

jor Murphy, and I’m Grey Murphy.”

She stared at him with a peculiar intensity. Then she

shook her head. “No, it couldn’t be. Magician Murphy

lived almost nine hundred years ago.”

“Maybe Murphy’s curse sent you to the nearest Mur-

phy,” he said jokingly.

But she took it seriously. “Yes, that could be. It could

be the last gasp of the curse. So it’s not coincidence, but

it’s not where I was supposed to go either. I was supposed

to go where I was most needed.”

“I thought you were supposed to go where the Good

Magician was.”

‘ ‘Yes. We assumed that was where I was most needed,

because of his message.”

“Skeleton Key to Heaven Cent,” Grey said.

Ivy jumped. “How did you know that?”

“I, uh, got that book. It says—”

“Oh, of course. The Muse has them, but someone

sneaks them out to Mundania every so often. It’s a bad

business, but they can’t seem to fix the leak. Anyway,

Dolph found the Skeleton Key—that turned out to be

Grace’1 Ossein—”

“Who?”

“I thought you read the book.”

“Not that far, I guess. I fell asleep. But I did leam how

the Good Magician disappeared.”

“Grace’1 is a walking skeleton. She’s very nice.”

“Oh, like Marrow Bones.”

“Yes. So she was the Skeleton Key, and she helped get

the Heaven Cent. So it seems natural that this was how

the Good Magician wanted us to find him. But if the curse

diverted me to a Murphy instead of to Humfrey—”

“Maybe the Heaven Cent worked properly, only the

Good Magician wasn’t the one who needed you most.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

Grey gulped. “I uh, really needed someone like you. I

mean—” He faltered, embarrassed.

“But you don’t believe in magic!”

“I wish I did!” he exclaimed fervently. “I wish—I wish

I could believe in whatever you believe in, so I could be

wherever you are, and—” But he couldn’t continue, be-

cause he knew he was making even more of a fool of

himself than usual.

“You needed me,” Ivy said, musingly.

“I guess I’d better go now.”

“You don’t believe in Xanth, so you don’t believe I’m

a princess or that I have any magic,” she said.

“But I do believe in you!” he cried desperately.

She gazed at him with a new expression, appraisingly.

“So it really doesn’t make any difference to you whether

I’m royal or common, or magic or not.”

“I wish it did! Oh, Ivy, I think you’re such a wonderful

girl, if only it wasn’t for this—this—”

“Delusion,” she concluded.

“I didn’t say that!”

“But it’s true.”

That he could not deny. He made a supremely awkward

retreat to his room. If only he could have found some way

to express his feeling without messing up!

The computer screen lighted as he entered. YOU HAVE

A PROBLEM?

“Stay out of this!” he snapped, and struck the On/Off

switch viciously, shutting it down. Then, unable to con-

centrate on anything else, he sat on the bed and resumed

reading the novel.

Man from Mundania 37

Chapter 3. Signs

I vy sat and thought for some time. She had been

so sure that this was an aspect of Xanth, perhaps a setting

in the gourd, and that Grey was an accomplice in the de-

ception. The only question was whether it was witting or

unwitting. He seemed so nice, but of course that could be

part of the challenge. She had to figure out where she was

so she could reach the Good Magician. After all, if this

place was so devious that not even Humfrey, who knew

everything, could find his way out, it surely would not be

easy for her either. So she knew that nothing might be as

it seemed, and she had to question everything. Something

wanted her to believe this was Mundania, but that business

about the language had given it away. She had known it

was really Xanth.

Then the language had stopped. Was this another trick,

to deceive her by patching up the prior oversight? Grey

had seemed genuinely confused—but again, if he was set

up to play a part, he might really believe this was Mun-

dania. She had tested him by trying to use her talent to

enhance him, so that he would become more obviously

whatever he was and show his real nature; but there hadn’t

seemed to be any effect. In fact, her magic seemed inop-

erative. Even her magic mirror didn’t work; it just showed

her reflection, her hair so pale that no one would know it

•*£.

was supposed to have a green hue. It would be easy to

believe this really was Mundania, except for the language.

Then she had seen Com-Pewter. Suddenly things had

fallen into place! Obviously Pewter couldn’t operate in

Mundania, because only magic animated him. The strang-

est thing, though, was the fact that Grey could turn Pewter

off. That meant that Grey had power over Pewter, and that

was mind-boggling.

Then she had learned how Grey saw it—that a magic

disk had come in to animate Pewter—and realized that this

might actually be Mundania. After all, some bits of magic

did operate in Mundania, such as rainbows, and Centaur

Amolde had been able to carry an aisle of magic there.

Maybe that disk had come from Xanth, sent by Com-

Pewter, and made the Mundane machine turn magic. Then

it had used its magic to enable Ivy to talk clearly in Mun-

dania, or to make Mundane speech intelligible to her, or

both. When it had been shut off, that had stopped, and the

full reality of drear Mundania had manifested.

That seemed to make more sense than anything else.

But Grey had not changed at all when the machine was

off; he was independent of it and seemed just as confused

as she had been. So maybe it was foolish, but she believed

that Grey really was what he seemed to be: a nice young

man.

But there had been any number of nice men, not all of

them young, who had played up to her in Xanth. She knew

why: because she was a princess. Any man would like to

marry a princess, even if she never got to be King of

Xanth. So she had never trusted that. She had wanted,

perhaps foolishly, to be liked for herself alone, not for her

position or her Sorceress magic or the power of her father.

Thus her romantic life had been scant, in sharp contrast

to that of her little brother. She liked Nada so well that

she had entertained more than a whimsical notion of pay-

ing a call on Nada’s big brother, Naldo, who was surely a

fine figure of a prince. But if Dolph married Nada when

he came of age, it would not be expedient for her to marry

Nada’s brother, so she had not followed up on that.

Now, suddenly, she had discovered that Grey really did

Man from Mundania

like her for herself, because he thought her magic and her

position were part of a delusion. Thus everything she had

told him had counted against her, in Grey’s estimation—

yet he obviously liked her very well. Her mother, Irene,

had long since taught her the signals of male interest and

deception. Her mother really did not quite trust men; her

dictum was “Never let a man get the upper hand—there’s

no telling where he might put it.” Ivy had known that

from the time she was two, and kept it in mind. But poor

Grey obviously had no notion of upper hands; he couldn’t

say anything to a girl without somehow bumbling it. That

was one of his endearing qualities.

Now Grey had beaten a confused retreat, and she had

to decide what to do. If this really was Mundania, with

no magic except for that Com-Pewter extension, and the

Good Magician wasn’t here, she would just have to extri-

cate herself from the foul-up that Magician Murphy’s curse

had made. Imagine: getting sent to a Murphy instead of

Humfrey! She would have to find her way back to Xanth

with the Heaven Cent, so that Electra could recharge it

and they could try again, this time without the curse. But

how could she do that?

She knew the answer: Dolph had learned of a secret

way into Xanth that bypassed the usual barrier. It went

through the gourd. It was in Centaur Isle, or the Mundane

equivalent. She just had to get there and go through.

But how could she get through Mundania, when she

couldn’t even speak its language? For now she knew that

the moment she left the vicinity of the local Com-Pewter,

the gibberish would resume. She had no Mundane money,

which she knew was necessary, because here things did

not grow on trees. Well, she had the cent—but she cer-

tainly wasn’t going to use that for money!

She would have to have help. That meant Grey—if he

would do it. Well, she would just have to ask him.

She stood, adjusting her blouse and skirt. This Mun-

dane clothing wasn’t as good as Xanth clothing; it chafed

and wore. But it had to do. She was just lucky that Agenda

had been about her own size!

She went to the door and out and across, and knocked

on Grey’s door. In a moment he answered.

“Grey, I need to ask you—” she began.

“Xbju—xfsfjoup hjccfsjti bhbjo!” he exclaimed, turn-

ing away.

Oh. He must have turned off the Pewter device again.

He would have to turn it on again before they could con-

verse.

Even as she realized that, she had a notion. “Wait!”

she said, catching his arm. For there was a point she

wanted to make while Pewter wasn’t watching.

He paused. “Xibu?”

She smiled, turning him gently around to face her

squarely. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, not

hard.

She drew back. He stood as if stunned. “Zpv’sf opu

nbe bu nf?” he asked, amazed.

“It’s all right. Grey,” she said, smiling. Then she in-

dicated Pewter.

Dazedly, he walked to the machine and touched the but-

ton that turned him on. In a moment the screen came to

life.

IF YOU PERSIST IN THIS FOOLISHNESS—the screen

printed.

“Well, you aggravated me,” Grey retorted. “But now

I need to talk to Ivy.”

OF COURSE.

Grey made as if to return to her room, but Ivy held up

a hand in negation. “It’s all right if Pewter listens,” she

said. “I’ll need to talk to him in a moment anyway.”

NATURALLY, the screen said smugly.

She faced Grey. “I believe I am in Mundania,” she

said. “I need to return to Xanth. Will you help me?”

“But-“

“But you don’t believe in Xanth,” she said. “But would

you believe if I showed you Xanth?”

“You see, I think I know how to get there. But I need

help. If you will come with me, and talk to people when

I can’t—”

Man from Mundania

“Oh, of course,” he agreed.

She faced the screen. “Com-Pewter, you knew I was

coming, didn’t you?”

YES.

“And you know where I’m from.”

YES.

“Will you tell Grey where I’m from?”

YES.

“Uh, you have to tell it,” Grey said. “It takes things

literally.”

“Tell him,” she said.

PRINCESS IVY IS FROM XANTH.

Grey stared. “You say that? But how can a machine

believe in fantasy?”

WHEN IT IS TRUE.

“You see, we could have asked him all along,” Ivy

said. “Pewter, why am I here?”

GREY NEEDS YOU MOST.

“But what about Good Magician Humfrey?”

I KNOW NOTHING OF HIM.

So it was the curse! She hadn’t been sent to Humfrey,

but to the Mundane most in need of her company. Yet a

mystery remained. “Pewter, why are you here?” she

asked.

TO FACILITATE YOUR ENCOUNTER.

“But you don’t care anything about me!” she protested.

IRRELEVANT STATEMENT.

So Pewter wasn’t telling. She wasn’t surprised. She con-

sidered herself lucky that he had cooperated to this extent.

She turned again to Grey. “If you will help me, I will

show you Xanth,” she said.

Grey evidently remained bemused by Pewter’s endorse-

ment of her origin. He might not believe, yet, but at least

he was having more trouble disbelieving. That was prog-

ress of a sort. “I’ll, uh, help you if I can.”

“You will have to guide me to No Name Key.”

“To what?”

A KEY SOUTH OF FLORIDA, the screen said helpfully.

“But that’s far away from here! How—”

HITCHHIKE.

“But my classes! I can’t skip—”

CHOOSE: IVY OR FRESHMAN ENGLISH.

Grey was taken aback. “Well, if you put it that way—”

YOU HAVE VIRTUALLY NO APTITUDE FOR SCHOLARSHIP.

Grey became suspicious. “You act as if you want me

logo!”

YES. THEN MY ASSIGNMENT WILL BE COMPLETED.

Ivy, too, was suspicious. “What is your assignment?”

TO GET GREY MURPHY INTO XANTH.

Grey shook his head. “I don’t believe this!”

YOUR BELIEF IS IRRELEVANT. TURN ME OFF WHEN YOU

DEPART.

“This is absolutely crazy!” Grey exclaimed. “My com-

puter wants me to go into a delusion!”

“You understand,” Ivy reminded him, “we won’t be

able to talk intelligibly to each other until we get to Xanth.

I will have to keep my mouth shut in Mundania.”

“But we can’t go, just like that! My father—”

“Look at it this way,” Ivy said. “If we don’t find Xanth,

you can come back here in a few days, and Pewter will

have to help you pass all your classes, so your father

doesn’t find out and turn him off forever. But if we do find

Xanth—”

Grey got his wits about him. “Let’s say, for the sake of

nonsensical argument, that we find it and you go there—

where does that leave me? Alone again, and far from

home, and in trouble when I get home!”

“You’re welcome to come into Xanth with me,” Ivy

said. “I thought that was understood. But I assumed you

wouldn’t want to.”

“I, uh, if you go there, I want to go there too. Even if

it is crazy.”

Ivy smiled. “You might like it—even if it is crazy.”

Grey shrugged, defeated. “When do we start?”

“Now,” Ivy said, delighted.

“Now? But—”

NOW, the screen said.

Grey tried to marshal another protest, but Ivy smiled at

him, and he melted. She had seen Nada stifle Dolph sim-

42 Man from Mundania

ilarly; it was nice to know that such magic worked, even

in Mundania.

“Now,” Grey agreed weakly.

They delayed only long enough to pack some clothes

and food, because neither grew on trees in drear Mun-

dania. Then they set off.

Hitchhiking turned out to be a special kind of magic: a

person put out one thumb, and it caused the moving ob-

jects called cars to stop. Some of them, anyway. Cars

turned out to be hollow inside, with comfortable seats and

belts to hold the people down in case they bounced out.

Each one had at least one person riding in it, and seemed

to go more or less where that person wanted. But there

were obstacles: glowing lights hung above the car path and

flashed bright red the moment any car approached. Then

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