“Oh, you think all females are passive creatures, waiting on males to motivate them?” Noletta asked archly.

  “Stop flirting with Water,” Nerine said. “You’ve got your own Element to pacify.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” Flood said. “A little superficial firewater can be fun.”

  “Is that so?” Noletta demanded indignantly. “You deserve a drenching.”

  Flood smiled. “That’s my job, not yours. Care to join me in a shower?”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Nerine snapped.

  There was two thirds of a titter. The children were enjoying the show again.

  “But seriously,” Ecstasy said. “The Element of Earth is nothing to mess with.”

  “Which is why we need her on our side,” Nydia said.

  “She’ll join,” Aery said. “She wants a man of her own to play with.” She blew a windy look at Moonroe. They had had several nights of play, and seemed to like it.

  They got moving. The next path intersection had an arrow and sign saying mount pinatuba—far far away.

  “We’d better use the carpet,” Nydia said, bemused by the way the signs picked up on their needs. “Now that it has had time to recharge.” It was brought out, smelling faintly of cheese.

  They boarded, the three Elements beside their companions, Vinia at the helm, and Ecstasy and Nydia left over. “There’s a Mundane song,” Ecstasy murmured. “‘Brown’s Ferry Blues.’ One of its lines goes ‘Two old maids sitting on the sand, each one wishing the other was a man.’”

  Nydia felt a pang. “You are scoring.”

  “You’ll get one. You’re a nymph, able to catch the eye of any man you choose. But what about an old bag of potatoes like me?”

  “But your talent with the figurines is remarkable!” Nydia protested. “You’re an artist.”

  Ecstasy grimaced. “That and a pie plant will give you a pie.”

  There really wasn’t anything Nydia could say to that. Middle-aged women were sadly not much in demand, regardless of their abilities. Certainly not the way nymphs were.

  The carpet took off, heading westward. Soon they were flying above the land, with its variegated patterns and colors; then above the sea, with its green waves and islands. Nydia remembered that sightings of Pinatuba had been reported in various places over the decades. Either they were erroneous or the mountain could travel. Did it matter?

  A tall, conic mountain peak appeared on the horizon, closing in on them. Above it was a sign made of clouds: do not rile the cone. This was the place.

  They cautiously crested the giant crater, discovering a flat floor inside. “The lava is liquid when it’s hot,” Aery explained. “Then it cools in place, becoming a plain. I have seen it many times.”

  “But wasn’t it smoke and dust that blew out?” Nydia asked. “Not lava?”

  “Yes, at first. But beneath them rose the lava, which was left when they were gone. The hot lava really powers the eruption.”

  “Suppose more lava surges up while we’re here?” Vinia asked anxiously.

  “We’ll fly away in a hurry,” Ecstasy said with a grim smile.

  “But it’s not surging now,” Aery said. “She wants to meet us.”

  “Yet don’t rile the cone,” Flame said. They all laughed, though it wasn’t funny. They didn’t want to encounter boiling liquid rock.

  They landed on the floor, which wasn’t hot. Vinia looked blank for a moment, orienting on her paths. “That way,” she said, facing a mound in the center.

  They walked toward the mound, which was venting wisps of steam. There was also a sound.

  “Tuba music, of course,” Flood said. “This is Pinatuba.”

  “Earth herself is musical!” Anthem said. She sounded a friendly chord that resonated in Nydia’s mind.

  The mound responded with a deep smoky chord that caused the rock-ground to reverberate. Anthem sounded another, and the mound matched it. In barely a moment and a quarter, they were in a sonorous duet, with side notes from the steam vents.

  “The fire ant comes through, of course,” Flame said.

  “I think they’re going to get along,” Ecstasy murmured.

  Nydia brought out the Earth figurine and the wand. Ecstasy held the figurine upright while Nydia waved the wand and uttered the conjuration.

  The figurine animated. “What are you calling me?” she asked.

  Nydia hadn’t thought of that. “Uh, Eartha.”

  “Hello, Eartha!” Flame, Flood, and Aery said in unison.

  “Hello, fellow Elements,” Eartha responded. “And Questers.” Then she turned back to Nydia. “Now tell me. What’s this all about?”

  “Something is disturbing the Elements,” Nydia said. “We are trying to find out what.”

  “I have felt it. Sometimes I shake the ground for no reason.” The cone’s floor rumbled, reminding them of her power. “Next question: have you found me a male to associate with?” She eyed Moonroe.

  Nydia knew she should have thought of this before, but somehow in the distraction of events it had slipped by her. What man would want to be with a woman as powerful as the ground itself, and with a volcanic temper? No ordinary one could measure up.

  “Ouroborus!” Nerine exclaimed.

  Eartha considered. “I know him. We’ve been in touch a long time. In fact, he holds me together. But he’s not human.”

  “Neither are you,” Nerine said. “You’d both be borrowing human bodies made of ectoplasm, where you can interact off the record.”

  “Off the record,” Eartha repeated thoughtfully. “But if he gets conjured into a figurine, what will prevent my globe from flying apart?”

  Now Nydia got into it. “It’s not exactly a physical transformation. It’s a spiritual one. Your main awareness is here talking with us, but your essence is everywhere, as you showed by rumbling the ground just now. His snake body would remain clasping yours, while his human figurine talked with yours.” She glanced at Ecstasy. “You can make a figurine for him? One that is tough enough to handle a strong woman?”

  “Oh, yes. Ectoplasm is infinitely malleable and almost indestructible.” The woman reached into the sky and hauled in a cloud of ectoplasm from apparently nowhere, which she began shaping into a lean, muscular, serpentine figure. Colors appeared as she worked, the hair and eyes turning greenish, the skin tan. She did not omit any detail; he was indeed a man.

  Eartha licked her lips, eyeing the handsome form. “That will do.”

  Nydia was silent. The Element of Earth was satisfied, but would they be able to persuade the giant serpent Ouroborus to do it? Suppose he was turned off? Making the figurine was one thing; convincing a monstrous snake to play house with an Element in human form was quite another.

  “Remember, he’s telepathic,” Nerine said. “He can read the importance of the mission in our minds. He wouldn’t want to slither away from that.”

  Nydia hoped that was the case. She was not absolutely sure which side the serpent was on. If it turned out to be the wrong side, disaster was in the making.

  They discussed details with Eartha. Then she joined them on the carpet as they flew toward Lake Ogre-Chobee and their rendezvous with Ouroborus.

  “Call him Rob,” Vinia suggested as she steered.

  For the accented syllable. That made sense.

  Eartha looked around. “This is fun, seeing my landscape from this perspective.”

  Flame nodded. “I could spread my fires far more effectively using this map.”

  “And I could flood without wasting much water,” Flood agreed.

  “And I could blow whole villages away,” Aery said. “Using these eyes and this brain to organize what was largely haphazard before.”

  Nydia hoped they were teasing.

  In due course, they reached the land, then the lake. Nydia put away the carpet.

  Now it was time to redistribute the socks. Flood and Aery manipulated the water around the Elements to protect them, so the extras went to Ecstasy, Vinia, and Moonroe. They waded into the lake, protected by the enclosing bubbles of air. They descended to the bottom and marched to Ouroborus’s spot. They entered the pavilion.

  “Hello, Rob!” Nydia called mentally. “We have brought you a companion. Read our minds.”

  The serpent did. “This is interesting. But why should I agree to inhabit an inferior foreign body just to forward a Quest that does not relate to me?”

  Now Eartha spoke, mentally. “It does relate to you, tailbite. Remember when that alien influence threatened to blow me apart, and you saved me and Xanth by wrapping around and holding us together? I smell the same influence now. Read my mind for that odor. We balked it then, but it has returned. This time we need to abolish it. We need your help. We also might have some foolish human fun during the pauses, as the other Elements are doing. Read my hot-bellied mind.” The sea floor quivered with racy anticipation.

  The serpent considered. “You do make a case, rock-head.”

  “If we are successful, you will no longer have to hold things together. You will be free, as you were before.” The floor made another quiver.

  “That does appeal.” An eye flicked in Nydia’s direction. “Very well, nymph, wave your wand.”

  Nydia didn’t hesitate. She propped the completed figurine up against a wall and conjured the spirit of Ouroborus into it.

  The huge serpent did not change; it still chomped its tail. But the figurine animated. “Hello, Quest.”

  “Hello, Rob,” they chorused.

  He turned to face the huge head. “Hello, self. Keep holding on.”

  There was no response. The awareness was now all in the figurine.

  “Weird,” he muttered.

  Nydia had to agree.

  Rob turned back to face the others. “Before we go further, we shall need to review some history.”

  “History?” Nydia asked.

  “Things have happened over the eons. Now that I have more of a mind, for all that it is made of ectoplasm, I am coming to understand events better. This may be more of a challenge than you reckoned on.”

  “It is already that,” Nydia said.

  “One of you is telepathic.”

  “That’s me,” Anthem said, sounding a chord.

  “Ah, the fire ant. Join me in making the scenes I remember.”

  “Gladly.” It was plain that the two telepaths understood each other almost perfectly, unsurprisingly.

  They made themselves comfortable in the chamber, and tuned in on the scene.

  It was a garden, a kind of island on a larger plane, like an oasis, glorious in its luxury of exotic plants. Sweet-smelling flowers were all around, and the memory image enabled scent. Trees bore flowers and fruits like none seen elsewhere. Inviting paths circulated conveniently, showing off the land’s features. Hills and glades decorated it. A river flowed through it, forming sparkling pools and gentle rapids and waterfalls. Friendly bees buzzed as they harvested pollen for delicious honey. Tame deer grazed, and in one nook, a lion lay down compatibly with a lamb, resting. It was at peace.

  “This is what some Mundanes call the Garden of Eden,” Rob said for their minds only as he slithered up to the verge of the flora in ordinary serpent form, not the globe-encompassing one. “I am the symbol of wisdom, and the wheel of eternal life, and my white and black colors represent the connection of Good and Evil, which are not really opposites but interpretations. In my explorations of the newly formed ancestral world, I discovered a hostile alien force intending to destroy it. The evil was masked from the Proprietor, but I was able to observe it while hidden in the grass. I knew I had to do something. But I was banned from the Garden, as the Proprietor assumed without justification that I had evil intentions. I had to sneak in, and it was chancy.”

  Now he slithered on into the vegetation, his sinuous body largely hidden by the grass and foliage. He was clearly good at sneaking. “There were two inhabitants,” he continued. “A man and a woman, set there as exhibits by the Proprietor. They had complete freedom of the Garden, but in their innocence lacked the wit to take real advantage of it. They had minds, but used them only for routine things, like finding new kinds of sweet fruit to eat. They were forbidden to eat the fruit of only one tree, the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. They did not question this or anything else. But I knew they needed to question it, to learn about the destructive force that intended to ruin everything. I could not take direct action myself, but they could, if only they knew it. How could I make them understand?”

  He came to a glade in the center of the Garden, remaining hidden himself. There was a young human woman walking there, naked and pristine. She was absolutely beautiful as her dark hair swirled around her shapely torso as she walked. She smiled as she saw a baby deer, a friendly fawn, and the expression brightened the glade. She seemed to be looking for something.

  “She thinks it is a new and tasty fruit to fill her belly,” Rob said. “Actually, it is an awareness to fill her mind. This is the moment for me to strike. I can’t tell her directly of the threat because that is part of my banning. I can’t say it directly to any souled creature. But I can perhaps facilitate her discovery of it indirectly.”

  Then he called to the woman telepathically. “Eve! What you want is here! It is the fruit of this most special tree.” He showed himself twined around a branch. “Try it and see if you like the taste.” For this was the Tree of Knowledge.

  “But it’s forbidden,” she protested.

  “The Proprietor won’t know if you don’t tell him. Just take a tiny bite to see if you like it. Why should he care what you sample?”

  She approached the tree uncertainly. She had no fear of the serpent, only of violating a stricture. Compliance warred with temptation.

  “Pick a fruit,” Rob urged. “Bite into it a little bit.” The fruit was of no currently known variety, perhaps a knowl, for knowl-ege, but looked and smelled delicious. “If you don’t, you will always wonder whether you missed out on a great experience.”

  Eve hesitated, then took hold of the fruit. She ate a tiny nibble. Her face lighted. “Oh!”

  Oops! Was she regretting it already?

  “Suddenly, I yearn for more knowledge,” she said. “No mere taste can match that.”

  Rob was relieved. The thirst for knowledge, once invoked, was exhilarating and unquenchable. Also addictive.

  Eve took a larger bite. “Oh, there’s so much more I want to know! I must share this with Adam!” She hurried back the way she had come, carrying the partly eaten fruit. The serpent quietly followed.

  She paused. “Oh! I am unclothed. Nude. Naked, in fact. That’s not right.” She hastily harvested several big fig leaves and a vine, and made herself a skirt that covered her midsection partially while enhancing its appeal.

  Adam was a handsome man playing a game of toss-and-catch-a-stone with himself. He stared at Eve’s short skirt, intrigued. “What’s this?”

  “It’s a new kind of fruit,” Eve said, misunderstanding. “There’s nothing else like it. Try a bite!” She held it forth.

  Bemused, he humored her and took a bite. His eyes went wide. “I’m bare!” He quickly fashioned a fig leaf loin cloth.

  Rob quietly slithered away. He had accomplished his purpose, or at least started the process.

  “But when the Proprietor saw them clothed,” Rob said to the group, “He threw a fit. He had worked so hard to keep them sheltered and innocent, and now it was ruined. They had acquired a thirst for knowledge that would never be completely quenched. He also did not like the way Adam looked at Eve now.” In the scene, the man licked his lips as he stared at the woman’s short skirt. “He kicked them out of the Garden so that they had to struggle continuously to survive and prosper. That was such a chronic distraction that they never did learn about the outside threat. Even their children had problems. When the first two quarreled, and one man killed the other, he was banished to the Land of Nod, which was east of Eden and not nearly as nice. In fact, it was mostly a dream realm. I watched them over the years and decades. When the surviving brother, Cain, arrived in Nod, he encountered a marvelously fetching girl.”

  The memory scene shifted. The young man was chopping wood to make a fire for the night, to fend off dangerous creatures of the darkness, when the girl approached him. “Who are you?” he asked, as she was the first woman he had seen, other than his mother.

  She adjusted her shapely fig leaf skirt and blouse to become even more so. “I am the Daughter of Nod,” she replied. “You may call me Lilith.” Her skirt moved slightly, causing shadows to show, outlining her evocative thighs.

  The scene froze as Rob paused the memory narration to clarify an aspect. “Lilith is special. She is an ancient demoness who was Adam’s first wife and taught him all about the pleasures of the flesh. The Proprietor asked her to serve as Adam’s companion and teacher, educating and supporting him, making a man of him in every sense. But then she got a notion of the external threat and tried to warn Adam, who was alarmed. The Proprietor was annoyed, and banished her from the Garden and cleansed Adam’s mind of any memory of her or their activities together. He took a rib from Adam and expanded it into a new woman, Eve, who was innocent as the demoness was not. Lilith had known better than to try to approach Adam once he was expelled from the Garden, but she regarded his son as fair game. Indeed, she gave him a better time than he deserved, and he was quite satisfied to remain in the Land of Nod all his life.”

  The memory scene faded. “But the distant threat remained,” Rob continued. “I saw it lurking throughout the history of the humans, waiting its chance. Finally I came to Xanth, tired of drear Mundania. When the threat acted to blow Xanth apart, and the Gap Chasm opened, I had to act immediately. I circled the land, clamping my teeth upon my own tail to hold it together, foiling the grievous plot. The evil force somehow spread rumors about me, causing the people kind to fear and hate my kind. But if I ever let go to defend myself and my reputation, all would be lost.”