Free Question Quest by Piers Anthony Page A

obscene."
    That was one of the ironies of the centaur persuasion. Centaurs performed natural functions of all types freely in public, having no sense of modesty about them. But magic was something they girt about with social restrictions. They tolerated it in what they considered to be inferior creatures, and did use magic objects, but that was the limit. Any person who wanted to remain on an amicable footing with centaurs learned, as I did, to honor this foible scrupulously.
    If the centaurs had magic talents, then I should be listing those too! But if they refused to admit it, how could I? Was my survey impossible to complete properly?
    This ushered in another notion. I had been thinking only of full human beings—but what of the crossbreeds? Centaurs weren't the only ones. What about the harpies and merfolk and fauns? In fact, what about the elves and ogres and goblins? They were all human in their distant fashions, and might have magic talents.
    Just how big was this survey likely to become?
    Well, in a few days we flew back to the South Village and I made my first report to King Ebnez. “So do you want to, to try to question all the part humans too?” I inquired.
    The King pondered. “I doubt that the human population would accept a part-human king at this time. So perhaps you should query only the full humans specifically, but make incidental note of the others as you come across them. It could be advantageous to know more thoroughly what other creatures inhabit Xanth and of what magic they might be capable.”
    That seemed like an excellent compromise to me, and my respect for King Ebnez's judgment grew. His four decades of kingship had evidently taught him something.
    Still, it was a busy enough time. I discovered that asking questions of people was only the easy part of it. First I had to find them, and to protect myself from problems along the way. I learned caution when we entered the EverGlades, thinking that I had memorized the pattern of geography there, and promptly got lost. Only the fact that we could fly up out of them saved us, and even that was chancy because an evil cloud moved in and made a storm, forcing us to remain for several cold wet hours on the swampy ground with encroaching allegories and hypotenuses and other dangerous creatures. I really didn't mind hugging MareAnn for warmth, but the horses were annoyed because their wing feathers got soaked.
    Then there was Mount Parnassus. I concluded that the Maenads were human beings, so should be surveyed, but I knew it was dangerous to approach them, because it was their notion to eat stray men. How could I safely handle this?
    “Maybe if you stay on the horse,” MareAnn suggested, “and take off the moment they charge?”
    “Too risky. I understand they can move very quickly when they're hungry, and they're always hungry."
    She nodded agreement. We would have to think of something else.
    Meanwhile we checked a human settlement near the base of the mountain. It turned out to be the supply depot for the temple of the oracle, near a cave or vent from which magic vapors issued. Young woman called Pythia sniffed these vapors and uttered sheer gibberish, which the priests then interpreted to answer the questions of visitors. Sometimes the great python forgot himself so far as to eat one of the Pythia, and then a replacement was needed, and so another girl would come from the village. They really weren't eager for such employment, but it was, as they put it, the only game in town, and their families needed the favor of the folk of Mount Parnassus. The average family of Xanth at this time was peasantly poor, as befitted the latter stage of the Dark Age. Any way to gain sustenance was grudgingly welcome, especially when the local fruit and berry patches were picked out and pie trees were between pies.
    That gave MareAnn an idea. “Why don't we go ask the oracle?” she asked. “If the answers are always accurate, when duly interpreted, we can find out