The Color Of Her Panties Part 45

Ida realized that it was true. She had come to believe that Okra had a chance, and then Okra had won, even without the madcap. She had believed that Che would find a champion, and he had, even if Gobble had managed to mess that up. Everything she truly believed in had happened.

"But that must be Xanth's most powerful talent," G.o.diva said. "She could make anything happen, just by deciding that it should!"

"No," Naldo said. "It is obvious that it has never been that easy for Ida. Because her talent has a crucial liability.

The idea has to come from someone who doesn't know her talent."

"But she didn't know her talent," Mela said.

"Correct. That was vital, because it meant that she could get ideas on her own, and make them come true.

Now that she knows her talent, she can no longer do that.

And none of us, here, can do it either, because now we know her talent.

So it will continue to be just as tricky to invoke it as it has been before. But when it is invoked, it is certainly of Sorceress caliber, as befits a princess."

"But the Good Magician," Che said. "Surely he knew! "

"Surely he did," Naldo agreed. "As did the demon Professor Grossclout, and the Simurgh. But they also knew that Ida would not achieve her destiny unless someone who did not know suggested it. They also knew that her talent was needed to help rescue you, Che, and to enable Gwenny to become chief. Because Ida is a nice, optimistic person, inclined to believe the best of people and situations. Without that special type of support, your prospects would have been bleak indeed. But now the important things have been accomplished, and it is only fair that Ida know her own nature." He turned to her. "You will be going home to Castle Roogna with your sister, now."

"You-you recognized me," Ida said. "When the demon professor conjured us to Draco's nest."

"I thought I did," he agreed. "I thought you were Ivy.

Then I realized that you weren't, but that you were so very like her that something special was going on. So I started investigating, and gradually it came to make sense. But you could not be allowed to know until you had seen Gwenny through to victory. The matter was too important to be risked. Every person who recognized your nature had to conceal that knowledge, until the time was right."

"Yes," Ida agreed faintly. She turned to Ivy, "But was I really your twin sister, before someone thought of it? I mean, if it is my talent that makes things come true-"

"It's true now," Ivy said. "We no longer need to worry about what might have been, or what might not have been, or how any premature revelation of your talent might have changed things."

"That's beautiful," Mela said. "I'm so glad for you, Ida. I hope we can still be friends, even if you are now a princess, and Okra and I are just people."

"Of course we can!" Ida exclaimed, going to hug her and the ogress. "I'm sure it makes no difference." Then she had a painful second thought.

"Except that if my own ideas don't work, now-"

"Friends.h.i.+p is not an idea, it's a personal choice," G.o.diva said. "You will remain friends if you want to be."

"Oh, I want to be!" Ida said. Then a third thought came. "But you, Mela-what of your quest? You haven't found a husband, and now I can't get the idea that you will."

"Yes, it is time to address that matter," Naldo said. "I promised all of you fulfillment, and now it is Mela Merwoman's turn. Mela, for the record, exactly what kind of husband do you seek?"

"Oh, nothing much," she said, abashed. "Just the smartest, handsomest, nicest, most manly prince available who won't mind my swimming in the sea often, and who likes raw fish, and who will help me brush out my hair.

Some folk seem to think there is something wrong with a tail or with greenish tresses. But-"

"Which is why the Good Magician sent you to my sister," Naldo said. "And she sent you to me. And why you wore that Freudian slip, and slowed me the color of your panties. I must admit, that very nearly freaked me out.

But I knew I had to wait until the rest of your quest was done and your friends had achieved their desires."

Mela blushed a solid plaid. "You saw my panty?" But there was more to her blush than that; she was evidently foolishly smitten with Naldo, just as Okra was with Smithereen.

"Just a wee glimpse," he said. "But that was sufficient.

I know that you are the s.e.xiest crossbreed human in Xanth, which defines my own simple desire in a wife." He changed to his human form, and stood there as an extraordinarily handsome man. "I am the one you seek Prince Naldo Naga, until this moment Xanth's most eligible bachelor. I will marry you, Mela, and fulfill your dreams, even as you fulfill mine.

I have no objection to a pretty tail, having one myself." He changed briefly back to his naga form. "And I do like to swim on occasion, and eat raw fish, especially with compatible company. I shall be happy to help brush out your greenish hair, if you will wear that slip and those panties and sit in my lap while I'm doing it." He shot her a glance that nearly violated the Adult Conspiracy.

"Oh, yes!" Mela exclaimed swooningly.

"My sister has been trying to marry me off for years," the prince confided. "And she has at last succeeded. Come, I shall kiss you now, and seal the betrothal."

Ida could not even marvel at his a.s.surance, because he was a prince, and he had been instrumental in helping them all complete their quests. He was horribly smart, yet as it turned out, he had had a nice reason for making them work for their answers. Mela could not have found a better match. She too would become a princess, because she would marry a prince. All because of that Freudian slip and her fancy panty. Who would have thought that the color of her panties would be so important!

Mela seemed ready to faint, but she managed to stave it off, because there was just too much to appreciate in the conscious state. Ida saw that Prince Naldo was indeed the most intelligent, handsome, nicest unmarried prince in Xanth. It hadn't been clear before, because he had never shown them his human form, but now it was impossible to doubt.

Mela's dream had been realized.

The prince took Mela in his arms and kissed her. They made Xanth's loveliest couple, even if they were both in human form at the moment.

Only the goblins seemed bored.

Then the Freudian slip flashed a glimpse that nudged the male goblins across the line into freakdom.

Naldo drew back half a smidgen and gazed into Mela's oceanic eyes. "How do I love sea?" he asked rhetorically.

"Let me count the waves." The merwoman seemed about to dissolve. She had been warned about his humor.

A hand touched Ida's arm. She turned to find Princess Ivy there. "Come, sister we must take you to Castle Roogna to meet your family."

Ida realized that she had indeed achieved her destiny.

They all had.

Credits Jenny Elf reported to the Good Magician's castle. "I am here to do my year's service," she said.

Magician Grey Murphy was there. "But you're in the wrong place," he said. "This is the Author's Note."

"The what?"

"Never mind. You're supposed to be in your own chapter, in the main body of the narrative."

"No, the story is done. Gwenny Goblin is chief of Goblin Mountain, and Che Centaur is helping her. Okra is a major character, Ida is a twin princess, and Mela is showing Naldo Naga her two very fine-"

"Beware of the Adult Conspiracy!" he said, worried.

"Her two very fine firewater opals," Jenny continued.

"And maybe something else, but that's their business. So everything has been wrapped up, and I'm here for my year."

"I see you don't understand," he said. "It has to do with the way the Muse of History organizes these narratives. This one has two groups of three characters each, and they take turns with the viewpoint. So a cycle was Mela, Ida, Okra, Che, Gwenny, and you, Jenny. Three such cycles complete the narrative. Eighteen chapters in all. It's done to confound the critics, I think, who don't know anything about literature.

You're supposed to be viewing Chapter Eighteen."

"What Chapter Eighteen?" Jenny demanded. "I gave Gwenny back her contact lens when I got a new pair of spectacles, so I can't see dreams anymore. Is it a dream chapter?"

Grey looked fl.u.s.trated. "It's the final chapter! Where everything gets wrapped up with a happy ending, according to the formula."

"But everything's already wrapped up. So there's nothing left for me to view. So here I am, ready to get this yearlong ch.o.r.e out of the way, though I'd rather be with Gwenny and Che."

"Maybe Humfrey can explain it to you," he said.

They went up to the tiny study with its piles of everything. The old gnome looked up. "About time you got here, Jenny," he grumped. "What kept you?"

"But she's supposed to be running Chapter Eighteen," Grey protested.

Humfrey scowled. "Clio glitched," he said. "A chapter got mislaid.

Probably because Jenny came from a foreign world, and so doesn't mesh perfectly with Xanth.

There is no Chapter Eighteen."

"But that means Jenny doesn't get her allotted viewpoint," Grey said. "That isn't right."

"So let her handle the credits," Humfrey said.

Grey threw up his hands. "All right. Jenny, you will begin your service by handling a mundane ch.o.r.e. It's highly irregular, but we just have to make do. Here is the list of credits; just describe them in your own words. I'll show you to your room, so you won't disturb Humfrey." Jenny took the list. It was a strange thing, but then everything about the Good Magician's enterprise was strange. Hers, she realized, was not to reason why, hers was just to wash and dry. Or whatever.

She took a breath and started reading: "The hit man and the mitten bush were sent by Tim Hittle. The piggy bank was from Guy McCutchan. The road hog is Robert Thrbyfill. The lemon tree is Kanayo Agbodike.

Electra's daughters, Dawn and Eve, and their talents are from Abbey Wraets. Esk Ogre and Bria Bra.s.sies son, Brusque, is from C. M. Keller, and his talent of making things hard and heavy or light and soft is from Jason Menefree. Calling a goblin child a goblet is from Ronald Foster."

Then she came to a paragraph. This was a big one. It was also a surprise, because it related to a character she had just come to know.

"Okra Ogress and the related detail is from Barbara Hay Hummel, she of the pain medicine who brought us Rose of Roogna in Question Quest.

Barb is also responsible for the fanciest of the panties Mela modeled but did not choose, and for Canis the dog and the seed of Thyme.

Jenny shook her head. Okra had not only been a minor character, she had been fas.h.i.+oned by a Mundane? No wonder she had been eager to changer her status! And what was this about pain medicine? Someone in pain would really have the desire to escape to fantasy!

This whole thing was weird.

She took another breath and resumed. "The asthma is from Carson Fredericks. The idea of the healing water for Gwenny Goblin's eyes is from Deborah Jones. The reason healing elixir did not cure Gwenny's or Jenny's vision is from Woodrow W. Windischaman III. The contact lenses for Gwenny are from Kit Arnold, Rene Alexander, Lisa Campbell, and Ann Franklin. The multiplication table is from John C. Wear." Jenny looked up, unable to restrain herself. "Thank you, John Wear!" she said with the heaviest irony she could muster. What a mess that had been!

She took another breath and went on. "The pulpit and the putrifly are from Patrick Brown. Attila the Hunny Bee is from John Brummel. The leaves of absence are from Eric Meyersfield. The gunman is from Mark Richman.

The winged fauns are from Brent Kauffman." She looked up again. She hoped those folks would just keep their future suggestions to themselves! Did they have any idea how they had complicated her life and the lives of her friends?

But then the endless credits took another tack. "The otterbees are from Virginia A. Johnson. The hoof-in-mouth disease is from Christopher Onstad. The tickle- and gooseberry bushes are from W. G. Bliss. The madcap is from Zoe Selengut." She looked up again. That had turned out to be really useful in the end. So maybe these credits weren't all mere mischief.

"Alister and his dog, Marbles, are from Jody Lynn Nye, the nymph who auth.o.r.ed The Encyclopedia of Xanth. The Propeller Plains are from Mayfair Games. The doldrums are from Carol Jacob. The Dragon Dola is from Russell Duffer. Joy'nt the little skeleton is from David Edison.

Thomas Hardy provided the inspiration for the pun on Far from the Madding Crowd. Nada Naga's debt to the gourd was pointed out by Patrick Ware. The problem of children exposed to what the Adult Conspiracy conceals was suggested by N. N. Reits, though that treatment may not be precisely what was envisioned. This is, after all, Xanth."

Jenny looked up again. "But it was bad enough," she said to no one in particular.

She resumed her reading. "The old wives' tail and air brush were by Tamara Bailey. Darren, the boy with the ability to make things into other things, was suggested by Melinda Gordon, who was age eight when she wrote. Isn't it odd that she was just his age? The roc and the hard place was the genius of Jason Rodrigues; there will be more about that concept in Novel nineteen. The algae bra was from Robert A. Hubby, relayed from his math teacher, d.i.c.k Greseth. Who says math can't be fun? The Freudian slip was by Cynthia Bellah, and Mount Ever-Rest was by Charles E. Brown. Ivy's having a twin sister was the idea of Joanna van oorschot, who used her magic to make it come true. It came true for Ivy's mundane ident.i.ty, too: the author's daughter Penny found a friend, Joana Janse, exactly her age to the day. viously that's no coincideTice; Joana with the one N must have come into beirig when Joanna with the two N's thought up the notion."

Jenny looked up again, startled. "So that's how it hal) pened! It came from Mundania! " She was amazed at these revealed interactions between Xanth and Mundania. She returned to the list. . "How do I love sea,"

etc. was spoken by Suzan Malles." Jenny sighed. When would it ever end?

It got worse. "The derivation of the t.i.tle was devious.

In the dawn of history there was the promise or threat of the sound of his horn, or the playing of the Angel Gabriel's trumpet, signaling the end of the world. Then Stephen Donaldson used a similar patterning for his novel The Mirror of Her Dreams. Then came Powers's The Stress of Her Regard. Xanth of course is lower brow-in fact about halfway from the brow to the ground-and distressingly naughty. Thus The Color of Her Panties. " This time Jenny merely shook her head, realizing that Xanth was incorrigible. Anyway, they were nice panties, and they had helped Mela Merwoman to nab her husband, which was the point of the whole adventure,. If Jenny ever decided to look for a husband herself, she would remember how it was done.

She resumed reading. "But why that particular color?

Indeed, who says it is a color? Well, the official colors of the author's 1952 cla.s.s at Westtown Friends School in Pennsylvania were plaid and white, partly in honor of their chosen female faculty member, Teacher Rachel Letchworth, who had Scottish blood. But the printer was unable to reproduce plaid for the yearbook, so brown had to be subst.i.tuted. (There was a male faculty member, Master Charlie Brown, but it is unknown whether he had anything to do with this). Ever since, the cla.s.s colors have been erroneously listed as brown and white. Those are actually the school colors. Perhaps this helps correct the record it has been a forty-year indignity. This, at any rate, is the precedent for using plaid as a color. You have a problem with that?"

Jenny shook her head, listening to what she had read.

"I never questioned plaid as a color," she said quickly.

She looked at the list again. "There were several more suggestions, but they didn't manage to squeeze into this volume. Probably they will be used in the next."

Then it got really odd, because she found herself reading about herself-only not exactly. "Jenny of Mundania, the model for Jenny Elf, who was paralyzed by a drunken driver, continues to improve." She paused. She herself derived from a Mundane? Just as Okra did? And this Mundane had chosen her instead of Okra, to represent her in Xanth?

The concept was so strange she set it aside and resumed reading. "This report will be over a year out of date by the time you read it, but here it is: "Jenny is now able to use a cup and drink by herself.

She can sit in a chair in the shower, was.h.i.+ng herself. She is in the hospital, being trained to use her computer, and is getting more facile with it. She can use it to call home, and her mother has made a game of it by installing a security code, so that Jenny has to figure out how to break it in order to gain entry to the home computer. The first code was simple, but each subsequent one is harder, so that Jenny really has to use her mind. Since she has much more use of her mind than her body, this is good. Her speech is improving too, but she needs surgery on her jaw-I would mention the temporomandibular joint, but only a nerd would understand the term-so that her mouth will be able to move for better enunciation. Remember, Jenny was really bashed up, and some things that don't show cause her endless complications. Her mother estimates that Jenny has now received over two thousand nice letters, and they are still coming in at the rate of three or four a day from all over the world. They would really like to answer them, but are presently unable.

It's pretty much a full-time job just surviving. However, one letter write happened to be in the area, and recognized Jenny at the store-oh, yes, it is possible to shop in a wheelchair-and exclaimed "I wrote to you!" Just so.

There was a knock on the door. Jenny opened it. Grey Murphy was there. "There's been another mistake," he said, embarra.s.sed. "Good Magician Humfrey forgot. You are supposed to report to the demons game, to work with Nada Naga. That will complete your service."

Jenny was pleased. " ada's nice!" She handed him the sheaf of credits.

"These are weird."

"They always are," he agreed. "Yet also true. I once lived in Mundania, and saw how Xanth looks from there."

"If I could believe more than just a little of this, I would be extremely mixed up," she said.