Piers Anthony - Castle Roogna

"We can tell you what is dangerous," the rocks chorused. There were no stony silences for him "But we don't know where the Good Magician's castle is. He has strewn little forget-spells all over."

"He should have known. I've been there," Grundy offered. "It's not far south of the Gap. Bear north toward the Gap, then east, then south to his castle."

"And if I'm off, and miss it, where will I wind up?" Dor inquired sourly.

"In the belly of a dragon, most likely."

Dor bore north, heeding the whistles. Most citizens of Xanth did not know of the Gap's existence, because it had been enchanted into anonymity, but Dor had lived all his life in this neighborhood and visited the chasm several times. Warned by his talent, he steered clear of diversions such as dragon runs, tangle trees, ant-lion prides, choke nettles, saw grass, and other threats. Only his father Bink could traverse the wilderness alone with greater equanimity, and maybe King Trent himself. Still, Grundy was nervous. "If you don't live to be King, I'll be in big trouble," he remarked, not entirely humorously.

When they got hungry, the stones directed them to the nearest breadloaf trees, soda poppies, and jelly-barrel trunks. Then on, as the day waned.

"Say!" Grundy exclaimed. "There are one-way paths from Humfrey's castle to the Gap. We're bound to cross one. The stones will know where such a path is, because they will have seen people walking along them. The forget spells are just about the location of the Magician's castle, not about stray people, so we can bypass them."

"Right!" Dor agreed. "Stones, have any of you seen much travel?"

There was a chorus of no's. But he kept checking as he progressed, and in due course found some stones (hat had indeed observed such travelers. After some experimentation, he managed to get aligned with the path, and took a step toward the chasm. There it was, suddenly: a clear path leading to a bridge that seemed to span the full width of the Gap. But when he faced the other way, there was only jungle. Fascinating magic, these paths!

"Maybe if you walked backward-" Grundy suggested.

"But then I'd stumble into all sorts of things!"

"Well, you walk forward, and I'll face backward and keep an eye on the path."

They tried that, and it worked. The stones gave general guidance, and Grundy warned him whenever he drifted to one side or another. They made good progress, for of course the path was charmed, with no serious hazards in its immediate vicinity. But it had taken some time to find it, and when dark closed in they were still in the wilderness. Fortunately they located a pillow bush and fashioned a bed of multicolored pillows, setting out sputtering bugbombs from a bug-bomb weed to repel predatory insects. They didn't worry about rain; Dor called out to a passing cloud, and it assured him that the clouds were all resting tonight, saving up for a blowout two days hence.

In the morning they feasted on boysengirls berries, the seeds like tiny boys a bit strong, and the jelly girls a bit sweet, so that they had to be taken together for full enjoyment. They washed the berries down with the juice from punctured coffee beans and took up the march again. Dor felt somewhat stiff; he wasn't used to this amount of walking. "Funny, I feel fine," Grundy remarked. He, of course, had ridden Dor's shoulder most of the way.

Another friendly cloud advised them when the Magician's castle was in sight. Humfrey had not thought to put forget spells on the clouds, or perhaps had found it impractical, since clouds tended to drift constantly. As it was, Dor realized he was fortunate these were good-natured cumulus clouds, instead of the bad-tempered thunderheads. By midmorning they were there.

The castle was small but pretty, with round turrets stretching up beyond the battlements, and a cute blue moat. Within the moat swam a triton: a handsome man with a fish's tail, carrying a wicked triple-tipped spear. He glared at the intruders.

"I think our first hurdle is upon us," Grundy remarked. "That merman is not about to let us pass."

"How did you get past, when you came to ask a Question?" Dor asked.

"That was a dozen years ago! It's all been changed. I snuck by a carnivorous seaweed in the moat, and climbed a slippery glass wall, and outsmarted a sword swallower inside."

"A sword swallower? How could he hurt you?"

"He burped."

Dor thought about that, and smiled. But the golem was right: past experience was no aid to the present. Not while the Good Magician's defenses kept changing.

He put a foot forward to touch the surface of the water. Immediately the triton swam forward, head and arm raised, trident poised. "It is only fair to warn you, intruder, that I have five notches on my spear shaft."

Dor jerked back his foot. "How do we get past this monster?" he asked, staring into the moat.

"I'm not allowed to tell you that," the water replied apologetically. "The old gnome's got everything counterspelled."

"He would," Grundy grumbled. "You can't out-gnome a gnome in his own home."

"But there is a way," Dor said. "We just have to figure it out. That's the challenge."

"While the Magician chortles inside, waiting to see if we'll make it or get speared. He's got a sense of humor like that of a tangle tree."

Dor made as if to dive into the moat. The triton raised his trident again. The merman's arm was muscular, and as he supported his body well out of the water the points of his weapon glinted in the sun. Dor backed off again.

"Maybe there's a tunnel under the moat," Grundy suggested.

They walked around the moat. At one point there was a metallic plaque inscribed with the words TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.

"I don't know what that means," Dor complained.

'Til translate," Grundy said. "It means: keep out."

"I wonder if it means more?" Dor mused. "Why should Humfrey put a sign out here, when there's no obvious way in anyway? Why say it in language only a golem understands? That doesn't seem to make sense-which means it probably makes a lot of sense, if you interpret it correctly."

"I don't know why you're fulminating about a stupid sign, when you need to be figuring out how to cross the moat."

"Now, if there were a tunnel that the Magician could use without running afoul of his own hazards, he'd need a marked place for it to emerge," Dor continued. "Naturally he wouldn't want anyone else using it without his permission. So he might cover it over and put a stay-away spell on it. Like this."

"You know, I think you've got a brain after all," Grundy admitted. "But you'd have to have a counter-spell to get it open, and it's not allowed to tell you that secret."

"But it's only a stone. Not too bright. We might be able to trick it."

"I get you. Let's try a dialogue, know what I mean?" They had played this game before.

Dor nodded, smiling. They stepped up close to the plaque. "Good morning, plaque," Dor greeted it.

"Not to you, it ain't," the plaque responded. "I ain't going to tell you nothing."

"That's because you don't know nothing," Grundy said loudly, with a fine sneer in his voice.

"I do not know nothing!"

"My friend claims you have no secrets to divulge," Dor told the plaque.

"Your friend's a dumdum."

"The plaque says you're a dumdum," Dor informed Grundy.

"Yeah? Well the plaque's a dumdum."

"Plaque, my friend says you're a-"

"I am not!" the plaque retorted angrily. "He's the dumdum." What feelings objects had tended to be superficial. "He doesn't have my secret."

"What secret, dodo?" Grundy demanded, his voice even more heavily freighted with sneer than before.

"My secret chamber, that's what! He doesn't have that, does he?"

"Nobody has that," Grundy cried, scowling. "You're just making that up so we won't think you're the granitehead you really are!"