Yon Ill Wind by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page B

enough about any other village to go there.  So how was she to find a suitable place to show off to real people?  She put her fine new mind to work on the problem.
    Then a bright bulb flashed above her head.  She would go to the Good Magician with a Question!  That was a legitimate activity, and of course, she would have to do a year's Service for him, and in all that time she would be able to show off legitimately.  She might even accomplish something useful, assuming the Service was of a useful kind, and the new niceness in her appreciated that.
    But she needed a Question.  What would be legitimate?
    What did she really want to know?
    After a moment the bulb flashed again.  How she loved this good mind, which performed so much better than her old one had; when she posed a question for it, it took hold with the power of twenty centaurs.  She would ask where her lost final tear was.  She had wondered about that for years, and now she could finally find out.
    “Nimby,” she announced, “we are going to the Good Magician's castle to ask him a Question.”
    Nimby looked at her doubtfully.  He seemed a bit alarmed.  Maybe he thought the Good Magician Humfrey wouldn't like him.
    “Not to worry,” she said reassuringly.  “I'll tell him how nice you have been to me, though you're really just a donkey-headed dragon.  I'm sure he'll understand.”
    Nimby did not seem entirely reassured, but she was sure he would relax when he saw that it was all right.  The Good Magician knew everything, so he would know that Nimby was nice, and if he had any doubt, he could simply look him up in his Big Book of Answers and immediately learn everything about the mute dragon.  So there was no call to be concerned on that score.
    But there was one small immediate problem:  she didn't know the way to the Good Magician's castle.  She lived in the northeast section of Xanth, and the Good Magician was somewhere in the center of Xanth.  It was surely a long and difficult route there.
    But maybe Nimby could help.  “Nimby, I want to reach the Good Magician's castle swiftly and safely and comfortably.  Do you know a way?”
    Nimby nodded yes.
    “Then show me that way.”
    Nimby set off at a swift walk toward a neighboring village.  He soon found a clear path, and in three moments and an instant or two they were at the village limit.  She knew because there was a sign saying JACKS ON VILLE.  Oh, yes, she remembered now; every person in this village was named Jack or Jackie, and they all worked to harvest assorted jacks.  Little jacks were six-pointed twists of wire that children could play with, while big jacks were solid metal twists used to lift heavy things.  So it was a thriving community.
    Nimby led her to a metal box beside the sign.  This was labeled PHONE JACK, and there was a little plug dangling on a wire by it.  So she lifted the wire and plugged its end into a hole in the box.  A slot opened, and a voice brayed:
    “Whatcha want.  Jackass?”
    “I'm not the jackass,” Chlorine said, realizing that it had mistaken her for her companion.  “I'm just looking for a quick way to the Good Magician's Castle.”
    “Well, pony up some jack, then,” the voice said.
    Chlorine looked around.  There was a pile of lettuce leaves nearby.  Her bright mind realized that a pony should like that, so she picked up a leaf and wedged it into the slot.
    “Not enough,” the voice said.  “We're jacking up the price.”
    So she jammed in more lettuce.  “This guy's a knave,” she muttered to Nimby.
    “Right—the Jack of diamonds,” the voice retorted.
    “Now I'll run up the Union Jack to signal a crackerjack cab.  You have some applejack while you wait.”
    So they sat at the nearby table, where there was a jug of cider, and drank cups of it while waiting.  It had a tangy taste, and was very good.  Soon Chlorine's head was spinning pleasantly.
    A burly man appeared on the path.  He had a big doublebitted axe slung