Man From Mundania by Piers Anthony Page A

this, so Ivy took
    over. They were at the edge of a big village—called a
    town, as she remembered—and sure enough, there was a
    barn. "Cvu xf dbo'u kvtu—" Grey protested, hanging
    back. So she kissed him again and led him by the hand
    around to the back, where she found a door. Inside was a
    loft filled with hay, just as she had expected.
     
    But instead of leaving the hay all nice and fluffy and
    loose, the idiotic Mundanes had somehow compacted it
    into cubes! So it was all hard and bumpy. But they were
     
    Man from Mundania           43
     
    able to scrape together wisps and make a serviceable bed.
    She made him lie down, then she lay down beside him
    and spread their jackets over them as blankets, as well as
    more hay. It was comfortable enough.
     
    Once Grey realized what she was about, he cooperated
    readily enough. Side by side, they fell asleep.
     
    Next day they got up, dusted off the hay, and sneaked
    out of the barn unobserved. Ivy was hungry, and knew
    Grey was too, but realized that it was better to get moving
    early than to pause for more beans. What a relief it would
    be to get back to Xanth where there was good food for the
    taking!
     
    The cars zoomed by without stopping, despite the magic
    of the thumb. Obviously even this limited spell was not
    reliable, in Mundania. Grey muttered something unintel-
    ligible, but she understood the gist: the people in the magic
    vehicles were all in such a hurry that none could pause to
    do a favor for anyone else. That seemed to be typical of
    this dull land.
     
    Then a pretty blue car slowed. "Ppqt!" Grey said,
    seeming chagrined rather than pleased. He tried to back
    away from the road, but the blue car pulled to the side to
    intercept him.
     
    There were two people inside, dressed in blue, with
    squashed flat caps and shiny copper buttons. Ivy recog-
    nized the type: demons! She had seen them on the Tap-
    estry. These were of the variety known as Flatfeet, who
    were devoted to interfering with travelers. No wonder Grey
    was alarmed.
     
    But it was too late. The Platfoot on the right gestured
    to them. Ivy knew better than to try to run; demons could
    always catch normal folk, unless there was strong coun-
    tering magic. However, she also knew that the hassling
    was usually harmless; the demons liked to make people
    assume odd positions, and to pat them all along their bod-
    ies, and ask embarrassing questions, but after they had had
    their fun they generally moved on to other things.
     
    "Xifsf zpv Ijet hpjoh? Epo'u zopx ju't jmmfhbm up
    ijudiijif? Mfu't tff vpvs JE," the Platfoot said gruffly.
     
     
     
     
    44          Man from Mundania
     
    Grey tried to explain, in similar gibberish, but of course
    the demons didn't listen; they never did. They made him
    take out his wallet, which was a little flat folder containing
    various cards and the odd mundane "money" of which
    Grey had very little. They perused his cards, and the nearer
    Flatfoot frowned in his best demonic fashion. Apparently
     
    Grey had passed inspection.
     
    "Cvu uif hjsm—tif mppit voefsbhf. Jbwf up difdl ifs
     
    upp."
     
    The Flatfoot turned to Ivy and held out his fat hand,
     
    palm up. Oh, no—was he going to go into the patting
    routine? She really wouldn't care for that.
     
    Grey turned to her, holding up his wallet, which the
    Flatfoot had returned. Suddenly she realized that the de-
    mon wanted to look at her wallet—and of course she didn't
    have one. She had observed that the wallets of most Mun-
    dane women were much larger than those of the men, and
    contained everything except kitchen sinks, but she didn't
    have one of those either. "I don't have any," she ex-
    plained.
     
    The demon's eyes widened, and Ivy realized her mis-
    take. She had agreed with Grey to keep silent, to let him
    do the talking, because what she said sounded almost hu-
    morously garbled to Mundanes. They had compared notes,
    after the first siege of garbling, and laughed. When