Free Yon Ill Wind by Piers Anthony Page B

ask a significant Question and receive a significant Answer, the fault is yours.”
    “Urn, that's right,” Chlorine said.  “I did know the terms.  I apologize for my intemperate remark.”
    Humfrey looked up from his tome again and glanced at her.  His eyeballs were yellowed and streaked with purple veins, but as they focused on her they brightened and the dingy colors faded out.  “My, you are a pretty one,” he said, surprised.  “A sight for sore eyes.”
    “Thanks to Nimby,” she agreed, nevertheless pleased to have made a good impression to erase some of the bad impression she had made before.  “In real life I'm plain and mean-spirited.”
    “Yes, of course.  Since you have done me the slight favor of resting my eyes, I will return it by amending my answer:  it is not quite as insignificant as it might seem.
    You do have the capacity to shed that final tear, if you ever choose to.  But considering the consequence, I suggest that you never allow yourself to become that unhappy.”
    “You may be sure of that!” she agreed, laughing.
    “Actually, I am not sure of that, which is why I have cautioned you.  There may come a time.  Do not react thoughtlessly.”
    Nimby, standing beside her, seemed uneasy.
    Chlorine nodded.  “Thank you for that amendment, Good Magician.  I will remember it.” Then she smiled.
    This time the gloomy study brightened, and Humfrey seemed to lose five years in age.
    “Oh, I wish I could see that!” Wira murmured, aware that something good had happened.  Maybe she had felt the heat of the light that had brightened the study.
    “You shall,” Humfrey said, almost with the illusion of fleeting mellowness.  “Imbri?”
    Then Chlorine saw a replay of the incident, as if she were another person watching herself, Wira, Nimby, and the Good Magician in the study.  She smiled, and the study lighted, and Humfrey youthened from about a hundred to about ninety-five.
    “Oh, thank you.  Day Mare Imbri!” Wira exclaimed.  “I saw it!”
    Chlorine was amazed.  The Good Magician had actually summoned a night mare, or rather a day mare, to give them all a day dream, so that the blind girl could see the event in the only way she could:  as a dream.  This was surely something very special.  And he must like his daughter-in-law a lot, because it was clearly for her he had done it.
    But now the study faded to its natural dinginess, and the Good Magician's slightly less tired eyes reverted to his monstrous dull tome.  The interview was over.
    Chlorine turned and followed Wira out, and down the steps.  The girl was smiling with the memory.  Something briefly nice had certainly happened.

Xanth 20 - Yon Ill Wind
    Chapter 4: TROLLWAY
    Jim Baldwin looked around, bemused.  This land looked a lot like Florida, at a casual glance, but any more careful look rapidly dispelled the similarity.  It wasn't just a matter of the presence of the fantastic female creature, Sheila Centaur.  Her phenomenal bare bosom was something he could appreciate regardless of the circumstance, though, of course, he would not admit that in the presence of his family.  Mary was a reasonably liberal woman, socially, but it was plain that she was not at all easy about the filly centaur, for reasons that went beyond the fantasy element.  Correction:  they surely related to her concern about the male fantasy element.  Especially that of Sean and David.  And Jim himself, perhaps.  With reason.
    They were waiting on the beach beside what resembled nothing so much as a giant pillow.  This was where the guide was supposed to arrive.  The guide that the Good Magician was sending.  After what else he had seen in this weird land, Jim was prepared to accept the notion of good and bad magicians.  He hoped the guide was competent.
    He hoped to get out of this situation soon; he didn't like the way the wind was building up, however intriguingly it played with Sheila's hair.  The storm seemed to have been