Piers Anthony - Currant Events (Xanth, No. 28)

Currant Events

Xanth 28

By Piers Anthony

Clio was tidying up heroffice, as she did every century or so even if it didn't really needit. Dust did tend to collect, along with dried bugs, apple seeds, andlost wisps of fog. Then she paused, which was easy to do during adull chore like this. There was a volume on the shelf she didn'tremember. That was odd, because she had an excellent memory. She hadto, to be a competent Muse of History.

She lifted it up,noting the clean spot of shelf beneath it. She blew off the dust andlooked at the title. She couldn't quite make it out, so she openedthe volume to the title page. That was written in her handwriting,but was somehow blurred. It might be CURRENT EVENTS,but could also be GETTINGEVEN.Neither one made much sense, as she did not handle eithercontemporary news or revenge plots. Her specialty was history, pastand future. The present bored her.

She turned the pages.They had all been filled out, and definitely in her handwriting, butshe couldn't read a word of it. She blinked to clear her vision, butit didn't help; every word was fuzzed. The pages might as well havebeen blank.

She stood there,bemused. How could she have written a volume of history that sheherself couldn't read? It didn't make sense. Was she losing hersight?

Alarmed, she set thevolume down and picked up the one next to it. That one was clearenough: PET PEEVE, with a picture of a disgruntledbird. That was incomplete, because it hadn't happened yet; she wasworking on it. So she checked the prior volume: CUBE ROUTE ,which wascomplete. That was the story of a girl with gumption, and the textwas quite clear.

So it wasn't her eyes,which was a relief. It was the volume. What was wrong with it? Andwhy couldn't she remember writing it? How could she be writing thefollowing volume, and remember its details, while being fuzzy on thisone?

Fuzzy: her memory of itwas as fuzzy as its print. There was definitely something strangehere.

She considered for agood three and a half moments. She seemed to have two or moreunenviable choices: principally to let the riddle be, or go to GoodMagician Humfrey for advice. Humfrey could surely unravel the enigma,but would take obscene pleasure in her predicament. She hated givinghim that satisfaction. But she knew the mystery would bug her untilit became a downright nuisance.

She sighed. She wouldstuff her pride into her nonexistent handbag and go to see the GoodMagician.

Humfrey's castle wassome distance away from the home of the Muses, so Clio gottransportation. She walked downMountParnassusand out to a babblingbrook and spoke to it. "May I have your attention for a moment?"

The brook ceasedbabbling and formed a swirling eye. It looked at her, recognized her,and formed a mouth. "So good to see you, Muse," it bubbled.

"I need to pay acall on the Good Magician. Do you suppose I could prevail on you totransport me there swiftly?"

"Gladly, Muse. Iowe you favors from way back."

That was true, but shehadn't cared to put it that way. "Then I should be obliged ifyou would run me there now."

The water humped upinto a shape like that of a centaur without a human forepart,standing in the riverbed. "Immediately," it agreed. "IfI can make it past the fish."

"The fish?"

"Recently therehave been so many fish they clog my channel. It has never been thisbad before; normally the water dragons eat them."

"The dragons mustbe off their feed," she said. That was humor; dragons were neveroff their feed. Still, it was an oddity.

Clio stepped close tothe bank, glanced around to be sure no one was watching, then liftedone leg and swung it over the centaur's back. Skirts were not themost convenient clothing for riding, but they were required for hergender and age. She caught hold of the liquid creature's flowing maneand drew herself fully onto it. "I am ready."

The legs of the waterhorse went into instant motion. It galloped down the riverbed,following its twisting channel. It had to, because it was unable torun anywhere else. But the running water was so swift that it wouldsoon reach the Good Magician's castle regardless of the indirectnessof the route.

She looked down throughthe horse's translucent substance. Sure enough, the channel waspacked with fish so thick it was almost solid. She looked across thelandscape around the river channel, and saw rabbits in similarnumber; in places they were like a gray blanket covering the ground.That was another oddity; were the land dragons similarly off theirfeed?

She looked in the sky,and saw clouds of crows harassing the other flying creatures. Wherewere the flying dragons? Normally crows were hardly in evidence,because dragons toasted them on sight. Only in Mundania did theyreally flourish, normally.

Soon they were in sightof the castle. There was a stream access to the moat that enabled thewater horse to reach it. In hardly more time than it took to see it,they were there, splashing to a halt.

The moat monster wassnoozing, hardly expecting any intrusion from this direction. Itlifted its head and gaped menacingly. Then it recognized thevisitors, nodded, and returned to its snooze.

"I thank youkindly," Clio said, dismounting. The water horse had stoppedbeside a steep bank so that her foot could readily reach it. "Yourswiftness was a real pleasure."

The horse nodded,dripping with pleasure. Then it galloped back the way it had come.Running water could never pause long, or it lost its definition.

A sad young woman waswalking away from the castle, staring at the ground. "What's thematter?" Clio asked. "I'm Clio; maybe I can help."

"I'm Cayla. I cameto ask the Good Magician what my talent is, because I haven't foundit yet." She twiddled nervously with a wooden twig she carried.

"That's somethingyou usually just have to find out on your own," Clio said. "It'salmost impossible to guess."

"Yes, I've triedguessing," Cayla said. "It doesn't work." She twiddledsome more; the twig was taking a beating. In fact there were twotwigs getting intertwined.

"So did the GoodMagician have the Answer for you?"

Cayla burst into tears."No! I never got to see him. In fact I flunked the firstChallenge."

Clio was morbidlycurious. "What was it?"

"It was a bigsquare park set on its end. That is, one corner was toward me as Icame to it. I thought the challenge was to get in, but when I got innothing happened. There was a ball flying around in there, but I hadno idea what to do with it. I finally gave up." She blew hernose into a handkerchief, then returned to twiddling the twigs.

A square park, set onits end. "A diamond!" Clio said. "A baseball diamond.You weren't supposed to get 'in,' you needed to get an 'out.' Bycatching the ball."

Cayla looked at her. "Idon't understand."

Clio realized that thiswould be complicated to explain. "It's only a guess." Thenshe noticed something. The two twigs were not just intertwined, theywere knitted together. "Do you knit?"

"Yes, when I havewool."

"Have you triedknitting other things?"

"Of course not.Why would I do that?"

"Look at thosetwigs."

"Oh, these arenothing. I'm just frustrated and nervous."

"They are knittedtogether."

Cayla looked. "Whyso they are. But I don't have knitting needles."

"Try somethingelse," Clio said. She looked around and found several bricks.She picked two up. "Try these."

"Bricks? That'scrazy!" But the girl took them and put them together.

The bricks twisted andmerged. They were getting knitted together. "That's yourtalent," Clio said. "You can knit wood and bricks. Maybeother things. Maybe anything. You'll have to experiment and findout."

"Oh!" Caylasaid, thrilled. "So I don't need the Good Magician after all!"