Part 21 (1/2)
”Two and a half Mundanes,” Breanna said, nettled. ”I'm a permanent Xanth resident. Breanna of the Black Wave. And Justin's my man.”
Handi turned to eye her. ”Well, he used to be my tree. He had the nicest foliage. I would perch on his firm warm branch and we discussed nature.”
”We are going to the mountains to find out why the snow is melting,” Justin said.
”That's important?”
”The melt-water is drowning out the Coventree.”
Handi nodded. ”That's important. That's the finest tree in all these parts.” She preened a feather ”Well, I must be off.” She spread her wings and lifted into the air.
Breanna watched her go. ”Was I too bleepy?” she asked.
”Not at all.” Edsel rea.s.sured her ”You hardly spoke.”
”I hate being jealous. But the thought of Justin talking about nature with bare breasted birds just drives me crazy.”
”She docs have nice-” He caught himself ”Completely understandable. But how could a man have any future with a creature with no human legs?”
She considered. ”I never thought of that. He really couldn't, well, whatever. I don't have to be jealous of harpies at all,”
He spied another creature. It might be a dragon, but it wasn't threatening them. ”What's that?”
She looked. ”Oh. that's a firedrake. They have iron lungs.” That made sense, he realized.
The level floor of the valley tilted, providing some leverage so the river could rise toward the distant mountain range. Edsel had never been much for watching scenery, but there wasn't much else to do. Justin and Pia were chatting amiably at the other end of the boat; they seemed to be really hitting it off, after their exploration of the underground gallery. Edsel hardly minded talking with Breanna; she was cute and vivacious. But there was absolutely no prospect of a romantic a.s.sociation there, and he had never had much to do with girls who were not romantic prospects. So he was stuck with the scenery. Fortunately it was varied and interesting.
They pa.s.sed a woman who was working in a vineyard. But the vines were odd. They seemed to have eyeb.a.l.l.s. ”What are those?” he inquired. Breanna looked. ”I think they are eye-queue vines. Put one on your head, and it makes you smart.”
”Really?” he asked, amazed.
”Well, I'm not sure. Maybe they only make you think you're smart. I'll find out.” She waved to the woman. ”Hi! I'm Breanna of the Black Wave, my talent is seeing in blackness, and I have a question.” The duck-footed boat obligingly drew to a halt so she could have the dialogue.
”You wish to know whether these vines provide the illusion or the reality of high intelligence,” the woman said.
”Thai's right! How did you know?”
”Because I am Jeanie Yus, and long a.s.sociation with the eye queue has made me quite intelligent. In fact, that's my talent.”
”Intelligence, or cultivating vines?” Edsel asked.
”Yes. And you are evidently a lascivious Mundane.”
”Only when looking at lovely women,” he said. Actually Jeanie looked smart rather than pretty, but he was a fair hand at dialogue with women.
She nodded. ”False flattery can indeed be charming. The answer to your original question is that the effect of these vines varies with the person. They do enhance the appearance of intelligence, but only in restricted ways relating to observation of details rather than substance, obscure vocabulary rather than effective communication, spot memorization of numbers backwards, superficial a.n.a.lysis of pictures, general information of a selected cultural nature, and trick questions. But not only do they make those who use them think they are more intelligent than they are, they also make school administrators think so.”
”They have schools in Xanth?” Edsel asked.
”Indubitably. We have a fine school of fish right here in the Melt River.”
Breanna was interested. ”What effect would such a vine have on someone like me?”
”They tend not to greatly enhance the seeming strengths of folk like you,” Jeanie said ”On a basis of one hundred, they would make you seem like eighty five.”
”But how can they do that?” she asked, annoyed. ”They relate only to the qualities to which they are crafted to relate. They ignore all others, such a creativity, artistic ability, musical sensitivity, special qualities of character like integrity or compa.s.sion or perseverance, or specialized knowledge in diverse areas. They a.s.sume that intelligence is an ent.i.ty represented by a single figure, and that that figure is the only relevant one.”
”But why would they a.s.sume that?” Breanna asked.
”Because if they did not. their prophecy would not be properly self fulfilling.”
”I don't understand.”
”Naturally not,” Jeanie said with a superior att.i.tude. Breanna seemed about to jump out of the boat to tackle Jeanie. Edsel grabbed her, getting a faceful of her l.u.s.trous black hair. ”Para!” he cried. ”Get your feel moving.”
The boat lurched forward, carrying them away from the vineyard. He hung on to the struggling girl until she relaxed. Then he released her, aware that his embrace could be misinterpreted. Justin and Pia were looking back in surprise, but then returned to their dialogue.
Breanna looked at him. ”I guess you didn't do that to grab any quick feel.”
”True,” he agreed. Then, to defuse it: ”Oh. I don't mean to imply that you don't have things worth feeling. You are a very nice little package. It I ever had a legitimate excuse, I'd revel in feels.”
It worked. She smiled. ”For sure. That woman made me so mad-”
”I think it was unconscious arrogance. She called out the weakness in her vines without realizing that it applied to herself. She really does think she is smarter than you.”
”But why?”
”Because you are of the Black Wave. That is most of what she felt she needed to know about you.”
”Self fulfilling prophecy,” she said musingly. ”If you figure the color of your skin makes you better than someone else, the tests you make will reflect that.”
”You will make sure they do.” he agreed. ”In the name of objectivity, ironically. But it's not worth arguing with an att.i.tude like that. It would be like getting into a mud fight.”
”I used to like mud fights.”
”You know what I mean.”
She considered. ”What do you think of zombies?” He was startled by the irrelevance. ”Why, I don't know any zombies, but I wouldn't want to embrace one.”
”For sure.” she said, turning away.
Edsel found himself vaguely nettled. ”Am I missing something?”
”Those eye queue vines would make a zombie be about ten on a scale of one hundred. Their brains are rotten.”
He was baffled. ”I am missing something. I feel sort of stupid.”
”No, just from another culture. Maybe some time I'll tell you about zombies. Meanwhile, I'll apologize for confusing you. It wasn't fair.”
”Oh, that's all right.” he said, still wondering what was going on in her mind.