Pet Peeve Part 3

Wira cut him off with a smile. "I know that's not you talking, Goody. It's the pet peeve. It doesn't like anything."

"Least of all you, you inane excuse for a chambermaid," Goody's voice said. "You give blind stones a bad name. They should have put you back to sleep a decade ago."

She smiled again and put forth her arm. The bird jumped onto it.

She brought up her free hand and stroked its back. She was evidently a gentle soul.

"And you're worse, you denatured goblin," her voice said to Goody. "Why don't you just put on a pretty dress and be done with it?"

Ouch. He hated being likened to a girl.

Wira kissed the top of the parody's head and gave it back to Grey Murphy. Now the bird was silent. Goody remembered that Grey's magic was to nullify magic. That was why he could stifle the obnoxious avian.

"This should give you half a notion what to expect when you travel with the pet peeve," Grey said. "It will insult everyone and everything that comes in range, with marvelous specificity, using your voice. Be suspicious if you ever hear a positive word from it. Are you sure you want to take on this mission?"

That daunted Goody, but he persevered. "I shall do my best. But I am concerned about the reactions of those we may encounter."

"Exactly," Grey said. "You surely observed how giving folk the Finger made them react. You won't even need to give them the bird to elicit their ire. You will need defensive magic. Wira, do you know where that bag of used four spells is?"

Wira hurried away in search of it. "Four spells?" Goody asked.

"I'll explain in a moment. I trust you realize that what qualifies you to escort the parody is that you must be one of the few folk who won't fly into a rage and wring its neck. Only a supreme pacifist can keep company with this bird for very long without suffering apoplexy or worse."

"I am coming to appreciate that."

"It may help to understand our diagnosis of its nature. The peeve has a high AQ."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Annoyance Quotient. Almost anything it encounters annoys it, and it reacts by expressing itself in hostile and sometimes vulgar language."

Goody had to smile. "I believe I noticed something of the kind."

"A sense of humor certainly helps when dealing with it. The parody is attracted to the highest AQ it encounters. The recipients of its attention hate it, much as they do the Finger, which is perhaps another reason why the Good Magician gave you this challenge. You are not a creature of hate; you are essentially a pacifist. You will need to find some responsible person who will not be outraged by receiving the bird from you."

Goody was beginning to doubt. "Is there such a person?"

"There must be, because Humfrey does not a.s.sign impossible Services. The challenge is to find him, her, or it. But it shouldn't be another pacifist, because the peeve would languish if not provided a ready source of aggravation. In other words, don't consider any low-AQ folk."

"A high-AQ person who likes the peeve," Goody said. The challenge was looming larger by the moment.

"Still, it was left here by the Gorgon, who rescued it from h.e.l.l, where it had rather worn out its welcome, and Humfrey agreed to find a good home for it. He has trouble saying no to his wives. We've gotten used to it here, but frankly will be satisfied to see it on its way."

"I can imagine."

Grey angled his head, gazing at Goody. "My talent of suppressing magic makes me sensitive to it. I need to know what I am suppressing, so as not to do corollary damage. There may be magic about you."

Goody was perplexed. "I am merely an ordinary goblin."

"I suspect you have a magic talent."

"But goblins don't have talents. Well, some have half talents that have to be matched with harpy half talents."

"Yes. But half a talent may become a full talent in time. I believe you have that potential."

"No offense, but I find that hard to believe."

"Keep it in mind. Maybe you and your wife came to share a talent, in the course of your long and close a.s.sociation, and you are in the process of inheriting the whole of it. Even Mundanes can develop talents in time. In fact there is now a Mundane Magician."

"Amazing!"

"Magic is is amazing," Grey said seriously. "I came from Mundania, which provides me a certain exterior perspective. There are just so many remarkable aspects to magic. I would not believe in it at all if I didn't have constant experience with it." amazing," Grey said seriously. "I came from Mundania, which provides me a certain exterior perspective. There are just so many remarkable aspects to magic. I would not believe in it at all if I didn't have constant experience with it."

"I certainly believe in magic. But it's hard to believe that I could have any of my own. Do you have any hint what kind of magic I might have or develop?"

"A hint, yes. No more. It is generally protective in nature. Not strong, but perhaps useful when needed."

Goody considered that. He had never dreamed he could have a magic talent of his own, but he was not in a position to doubt the Magician. What possible type could he have? "Protective" didn't narrow it down very far.

Wira returned with a motley bag. She handed it to Grey.

"Ah, yes, the four spells," Grey said. "These are potent, but have been used, so may be diminished in force or apt to end abruptly. So it is best not to invoke one until there is immediate need."

"Why are there four spells, instead of three or five?"

Grey laughed. "There are dozens of them. Such as fourwarned, alerting you to danger by heightened senses of sight, smell, sound, and touch. Or fourshadowed, which provides you with four shadows reflecting your immediate past and future. Really intricate spells, but not fully reliable because of their age and wear and tear. In addition, they are all mixed up in the bag, so you can't be sure which one you're getting; you will just have to poke a finger into the bag and invoke the first one you touch."

"This seems less than convenient."

"It gets worse. Their terminations have been lost, so once invoked, they can't be turned off. So you may have four shadows far longer than you want them. But they are effective spells."

"I am not clear why-"

"Because we have a budget, and these are the most effective spells we can spare for this mission. So I'm afraid you will simply have to make do. With luck you won't need to invoke too many."

"With luck," Goody agreed weakly.

"But mainly, you will be protected by a bodyguard. We happen to have one who owes the Good Magician a service, and this is the a.s.signment. I'm sure she will be able to get you out of most of the mischief the peeve will generate. So the spells are merely a reserve for when she can't."

"She?"

"Hannah Barbarian. A very effective warrior, and loyal to her mission in the barbarian manner. With her by your side, you won't even see most of the threats of the wilderness. They will stay clear, knowing better than to mess with her."

"But I have no desire to travel with a human woman!" Or any woman, he thought, whether goblin, naga, elf, or mer. He was too susceptible to their physical charms, and too unavailable emotionally. That was a bad combination.

Grey looked at him. "Well, you can turn down the mission. That is probably the better course."

That put him on his mettle. "No, I'll accept her protection. But I doubt she'll appreciate guarding a polite goblin."

"This is similar in a manner to the problem with the bird. We don't dare allow her to guard a normal goblin male. She would soon feed him to a dragon."

Goody appreciated the point. He also realized that the threats of the Xanth wilderness were myriad and deceptive, well worth not encountering. "I will try to get along with her."

"Then it is time to introduce you. I will take along the parody."

"But it will insult her!"

"Yes. I will have to clarify that aspect at the outset." Grey held forth his arm, and the silent bird hopped on.

"How is it that such a curmudgeon obliges your wish so readily?"

"It knows we are trying to find it a better situation. The parody is not stupid; satisfy it that a given course is best for it, and it will cooperate readily enough, out of sheer self-interest."

They made their way to what appeared to be a small arena. A warrior was practicing martial arts there with a wooden mockup. "Kiai!!" it cried fiercely. Smash with a mailed fist. Then violent chopping with a sword, and the dummy flew into pieces.

The figure paused as they approached. From up close Goody saw that it was indeed female, with a metallic halter and skirt, helmet, gauntlets, and spiked boots. The halter was full and the legs well shaped; otherwise it would have been hard to tell the gender.

Wira appeared. "Emergency in the rose garden," she told Grey urgently. "A querent got lost and stumbled into it, and the roses are slicing him."

"On my way!" Grey said. "Take the parody."

Goody took the bird, and Grey and Wire hurried off.

"What have we here?" Goody's voice said loudly. "A man in a skirt!"

Oh, no! The peeve was no longer nulled, and was having at the warrior maiden.

She faced him dangerously. "You can't recognize a healthy feminist activist when you see her? Are your eyeb.a.l.l.s clogged?" Now it was apparent that there was long hair piled under the helmet.

"It talks!" his voice exclaimed. "It's alive! Who would ever have believed it? O the horror of it!"

"So," the maiden said, huffing into a larger size. "A mouthy goblin male."

"Oh, go chop some more kindling," Goody's voice said. "You swing like a collapsing wall anyway."

Hannah's face curled into a grim smile. "Do you know what we do to mouthy goblins where I came from?"

"Hug them and kiss them, honey pie?" Goody's voice asked sarcastically. "You sure couldn't damage them any other way. In case you hadn't noticed, you're not where you came from. No nice knitting needles here."

She advanced menacingly on him, raising her short sword. "Oh, really? I wonder how far your measly little head will fly from your body?"

"Not far enough to get clear of the smell of you, you stinking sheep in wolf's clothing."

Goody finally got his mouth open. "Wait! That's not me talking!"

Hannah paused. "You're starting to grovel?"

"You're the one who should grovel, you piece of rotten cheesecake. What a gruesome stench!"

"No, no!" Goody yelled. "I'm not saying it. It's the bird."

"Blaming it on the bird? What a sniveler!" She lifted her sword high. Its blade gleamed hungrily.

"You're the sniveler," Goody's voice said. "You're so full of snot it's sniveling on your shoes."

"Those are warrior boots, goblin. To protect my legs from flying blood." She took careful aim.

"The bird! The bird!" Goody cried desperately as he backed away. "It's imitating my voice!"

"Are you schizo?" Hannah demanded, her sword quivering in its eagerness to strike. "Make up your mind. Are you a goblin or a bird?"

"I'll give you the bird," his voice said. "Right up your piddling pink-"

Goody did the sensible thing: he fled.

"Oh no you don't!" Hannah said. "I'll cut you into such small bits they'll never know you existed." She pursued, taking much bigger steps than he could manage.

There was a set of wooden bleachers set up for spectators of arena events. Goody dived under it, still bearing the bird.

"You can't escape," Hannah said grimly. She swung at the bleachers. Chips of wood flew as she chopped them apart.

"Nyaa nyaa!" Goody's voice called in singsong. "You can't get mee, you effeminate biddy!"

"Ha! We'll see about that." She continued chopping. The bleachers were rapidly falling apart under the onslaught. In hardly more than three moments they were a pile of debris.

What could he do? There was nowhere else to hide.

Think outside the box.

Goody flung the parody at her. Startled, Hannah paused. The bird landed on her raised sword-arm and perched there, insolently eying her.

"Are you still here?" Hannah's voice demanded. "Why don't you crawl into the sewer where you'll feel at home, you ridiculous excuse for a goblin."

Hannah's eyes widened. "I didn't say that."

"The Good Magician is really sc.r.a.ping the bottom of the barrel to come up with you, you ludicrous imitation of a functioning creature. What made you think you could find your way out of a pigpen, let alone accomplish a quest, you awesomely stupid runt?"

Hannah eyed the peeve thoughtfully. "My voice-spoken by a bird." She looked at Goody. "This was the case with you?"

"Yes," Goody agreed, relieved. "That's a pet peeve. It insults everything, using your voice."

"Shut your face, you loathsome gob," her voice said.

"And what's your business with me, goblin?" the real Hannah inquired.

"I'm supposed to deliver this bird to a good home. You're supposed to guard me."

She nodded. "I think I can see why. Take back your bird." She shook her arm so that the parody had to jump off. It landed neatly on Goody's raised arm.