The Color of Her Panties - Piers Anthony, ebook
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
THE COLOR OF HER PANTIESBY PIERS ANTHONYSynopsis:Gwenny Goblin is fourteen and since her father has just died she is theone who must succeed him as Goblin leader. To do this she must join theadult conspiracy and find out the magic behind summoning the stork andwhy ladies must never show the color of their panties to any male.Gwenny must also go on a journey to find out what is between the rok andthe hard place. A Xanth novel. Another punny journey through magiclives. Explicit descriptions of the adult conspiracy. Not for thosewho freak out in a panty store.The Color Of Her Panties is an original publication of William Morrowand Company, Inc., published simultaneously in paperback by Avon Books.This work is a novel.Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.Copyright C 1992 by Piers Anthony JacobJacket illustration by Daffen K. SweetPublished by arrangement with the authorAll rights reserved.No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by anymeans, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, orby any information storage or retrieval system, without permission inwriting from the Publisher.Inquiries should be addressed to Pemssions Department, William Morrowand Company, Inc., 1350 Avenue of the Americas, New York, N.Y. 10019.It is the policy of William Morrow and Company, Inc., and its imprintsand affiliates, recognizing the importance of preserving what has beenwritten, to print the books we publish on acid-free paper, and we exertour best efforts to that end.ISBN: 0-688-10916-0Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 92-90168Printed in the United States of AmericaFirst Edition1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10ARela Mer-woman swam restlessly around her sea cave garden, brushing thetreelike seaweeds that formed the walls and canopy. Her hair swirledgreenly behind her, and her flukes caused little eddies that toyed withwhatever strands of hair they could catch.She swooped down near the glowing colored stones of her floor, so thather breasts almost brushed them. Then she halted at the centralfireplace and stoked up the waterlogs so that her fire blazed morebrightly. "Oh, brimstone! " she swore, severely out of sorts. "I needa husband! "She brought out her mirror and stretched the glass out to full length soshe could see all of herself. It merely reflected what she alreadyknew: she was a splendiferous creature, with fuller breasts than anymere mermaid and a flashier tail than any fish could boast. About herneck she wore a necklace supporting two precious glowing firewateropals, surely sufficient to attract the best quality husband.So why wasn't she married? It wasn't as if she were choosy. All shewanted was the nicest, handsomest, most manly and intelligent unmarriedprince in Xanth, who would be pleased to let her do anything she wanted.Such as swimming in the salt sea for hours and eating raw fish, and whowould love to brush out her hair for her. Once she had captured PrinceDolph, but he had been a trifle young at the time, nine years old. Shehad traded him off for her opals, and later he had grown up and marrieda girl of his own species whose endowments weren't nearly as impressiveas Mela's own. Human men just didn't have much sense.The problem was that there weren't many males who met her modeststandards, and most of those were already married. She had scoured theseas and found nothing worth her while. So what was she to do?She sighed, and the effort sent ripples down through her fabulous flesh.There was no help for it: she would have to go ask the Good Magician.That meant doing him a year's service, which would surely be a colossalbore, but if he landed her a suitable husband it just might be worth it.No time like the present. Mela gathered together the few useful spellsshe had collected during her explorations of the bypaths of the sea andtucked them into her invisible purse. Then she swam out of her cave andup toward the surface of the sea. She didn't worry about the firespreading during her absence, because fire could not burn under waterwithout the magic presence of the merfolk. Only if another merwoman ormerman came would it flare up, granted no one would intrude on herprivate premises.Mela's undersea cave was near the Isle of Illusion, by sheerestcoincidence, so she came up in sight of the isle which had once appearedto be the most illustrious of regions. Her hair yellowed as it brokethe surface. She remembered again how she had captured Prince Dolphhere, despite the objection of his skeletal companioris Marrow Bones andGrace'l Ossein. They had in the end turned out to be decent folkdespite their gauntness; indeed, they had helped her get her opals. Shewondered how they were doing; they had made a nice if somewh,-itemaciated couple.The Isle of Illusion no longer had much illusion, because the Sorceressof illusion, Queen Emeritus Iris, had long since departed it. But afaint tinge of great fancies still surrounded it, suggesting thegreatness of past imaginings. Perhaps some day another greatillusionist would inhabit it, and once again no one would know itsrather pedestrian reality.She swam directly to the shore where the Gap Chasm debouched into theeastern sea. She came as close to the small beach as she could withoutgetting out of the water.Then, when the sand threatened to abrade her satiny skin, she sat up,her tail folded before her. She concentrated, and her beautiful flukesbecame misshapen lumps, while the main portion of her tail turned asickly pink. A lengthwise crease appeared, which deepened, until theentire tail split into two ungainly limbs.Mela bent these limbs at their knobby knees and set the bony feet firmlyagainst the sand. Then she heaved herself up, until she balancedprecariously on those awkward legs, knee-deep in the surf. It had beena long time since she had gone on land, and it was hardly her notion oftin, but it was the only way. The Good Magician lived on land, andwould not come to the sea.Once she was sure of her equilibrium, she waded on out to the dry sand.Her new legs were getting stronger as she got the hang of them, and herbalance was improving. She did know how to do this; she was merely outof practice.But when she walked away from the water, the sand grew hot, burning herfeet, and little sharp stones-tried to cut her soles. Her extremitiesmight be ugly, but they were also tender. Fortunately she knew wherethere was a lady's slipper patch; she had seen it from the water. Shelimped to it and picked two slippers. Naturally they fit perfectly, andthey protected her feet so that she could walk in comfort.She came to the edge of the Gap, where the way turned steep. Now shehad to climb, but she could do that too, and clambered up across therocks and slopes without much trouble. She knew that she had to get outof the chasm immediately, for two reasons. First, the sides becameconsiderably steeper farther in-everyone knew that!-and second, therewas the Gap Dragon. Only a few folk knew that, because most of thosewho had encountered the dragon had been eaten. There had been a ForgetSpell on the chasm for a long time, but now it was gone and so it waspossible to know things about the Gap. That was just as well, becauseshe would not have wanted to try to run from the dragon on her wobblylegs. She wondered how the land folk ever endured such an ungainly modeof travel.She came to the brink and climbed over. Now the land was reasonablylevel, and she could walk upright. She understood that the GoodMagician's castle was slightly south of the Gap, so she walked generallywestward. There were supposed to be enchanted paths, and once she foundone of those she would be able to proceed to the castle without havingto worry about stray monsters.Unfortunately she was still in the wilderness. "Ho!"someone shouted to the side. "A nymph! Hit her!"Mela looked, alarmed. She was no nymph, for they were mostly brainlesscreatures who kept company with sinlarly brainless fauns. For somereason human men seemed to like nymphs, while lacking interest in thefauns. She saw that the shouter was a man the size of an elf, standinghardly taller than her knees. His hands were relatively huge. Shedidn't have to worry about him.Then about six more like him appeared. "Hit her! Hit her!" they cried,charging toward her in a messy mass.Now she recognized their nature: these were hit men!Their hands were huge because they used them to make tremendous fists,the better to hit innocent folk. They were erupting from a blackjackbush, which was a plant that liked to be hit. It was always exclaiming"Hit me!" and "Hit me again! " though its leaves were so thin and flatthat they could hardly stand up long to such abuse. Maybe that was whythey had all those little red and black marks on them in the shapes ofthings like spades and hearts and clubs. But hitmen were notorious formaking hits on anything that came within reach, and a luscious barefemale like herself was a prime target. They certainly wanted to hit onher.Mela quickly took stock. She was too far from the sea to reach itbefore the obnoxious little men caught up with her. Maybe in time herclumsy legs would be able to carry her swiftly, but she was stillconcentrating on things like balance and locomotion. If she tried torun fast, she would fall on her face, and they would swarm all over her.Could her magic stop them? She had a spell to splash water into theeyes of a person, but that only worked on one person at a time, and shedoubted it would discourage even a...
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]