Dragon On A Pedestal Part 17

Stanley was now cracking bone with his teeth, as happy as he had ever been.

After that they exchanged stories. Ivy told how she had taken a walk with a zombie, and a ride on a carpet, and a tour with a yak, and gotten so turned around she didn't know for sure which way was home. Hugo described how he had accidentally thrown Youth water on his father and the Gap Dragon, then run away when his father vanished, until he met Ivy and started traveling with her. The two explained how they had joined the baby dragon, whom they now knew to be the former Gap Dragon, but who was Stanley now, and how they had fought off the bugbear and King Fracto the Cloud.

"King c.u.mulo-Fracto-Nimbus?" the Cyclops demanded. "Well I know and not like that airhead!" And he launched into his own story, which naturally enough he called his-story, or simply history.

His name was Brontes, and he had once been one of the powers of the air, along with his brothers Steropes and Arges. They were some of the children of the Sky and the Earth, and they forged thunderbolts for their father. But the Sky grew jealous of them, and deprived them of their powers, and banished them. Their mother Earth gave them sanctuary in her realm but could not do more, for she was not as strong as their father; besides, she liked the Sky. "He gets tempestuous at times," she had conceded, "but he's got such a nice blue eye. Besides, I need the rain he sends."

So Brontes had hidden here in this obscure cave for a long time, afraid to go abroad by day because of the wrath of the Sky, and his power of thunder had been usurped by the self-styled Cloud-King Fracto, who had originally been no more than minor fog. Brontes was alone; more than anything, he missed the company of his brothers, but he did not know where they were and did not dare range too far from his cave, lest he be caught in the open when day came and be destroyed by one of the very thunderbolts he had helped forge so long ago when he was young.

"Oh, that's such a sad story!" Ivy exclaimed. "We've got to help you find your brothers." She had a very tender heart, because of the way she had been raised.

"How you do that?" Brontes asked, interested but not unduly hopeful. His brothers had been lost a long time.

"There's something about her," Hugo said. "I never was very good with my fruits until she came along, and I don't think Stanley was as hot with his steam."

"All it takes is a positive att.i.tude," Ivy said brightly, pleased with her ability to turn a good phrase. "When I think maybe I can do something, like talking well, then I try it and find I can do it. When Hugo really tried to conjure good fruit, then he did it. And Stanley was able to make hotter steam when he tried. So maybe if you really tried to see where your brothers are, you could do it."

"I've tried to find them ever since we were banished!" Brontes exclaimed. "Why should it suddenly work now?"

As usual. Ivy ignored what she couldn't answer. It was a very effective device. "You have such a fine big eye, I'm sure you can see very well with it. Why don't you look?"

"Very well," the Cyclops agreed, humoring her, for she was an extremely cute child. Light was coming in the cave entrance and retouching her hair to a delicate green tint, and her eyes were the same color.

Brontes peered out of the cave, into the forest beyond. Behind the trees, the gully ascended, so there really was not very much for anyone to view.

Then he sat up straight. "I can see well!" he exclaimed. "I can see--right through the trees! I never do that before!"

"He's talking better, too," Hugo noted.

"You just never really, really tried before," Ivy said confidently. She was used to the people she met underestimating their potentials.

Brontes swung his gaze around. "I can see through the cave wall!" he said, amazed. "Through the mountain itself! I've got Y-ray vision!"

Hugo's brow furrowed. He had picked up smatterings of information relating to magic, since that was his father's business. "I think you mean Z-ray vision," he said.

"It's Hoo-ray vision!" the Cyclops said. "Now I can see all Xanth!" He continued to swing his gaze around, taking it all in. "And there--there's my brother Steropes! Oh, he looks so much older! He's in a cave on the other side of this very mountain! I never realized! And Arges--in the next mountain over! I guess we hunted in different directions! So near and yet so far!"

"I just knew you could do it!" Ivy, said, clapping her little hands with joy.

Hugo looked out the cave mouth. "Day is getting on," he said. "We'd better start moving."

"If you wait till night, I can carry you some distance," Brontes offered.

Ivy considered. "No, you must go to meet your brothers then. We like the day; the Sky isn't out to get us. We'll go now." She smiled shyly. "But we'll always be friends, won't we?"

"Friends," the Cyclops agreed. He fished in his uniform and dug out a slightly scorched little bone. "Chew on this if you ever need me at night, and I will hasten to help. It is the one bit of magic I possess. I never had occasion to use it before--but I never had a friend before, either."

"Gee, thanks, I will," Ivy said, accepting the bone. She knotted it into her somewhat tangled hair, where it would not be lost, for nothing was quite as permanent as a tangle. "Now I'm a cave girl!"

With that they parted, the Cyclops resuming his nap inside the cave and the three travelers resuming their journey north-east. Progress was faster now, for they were reasonably well rested and fed, and the day was bright.

Ivy looked up into the patches of blue sky visible beyond the trees, privately surprised that anything so pretty would be so unkind to a nice creature like the Cyclops. But she realized she was too small to understand everything in Xanth yet.

The forest seemed much less threatening than it had the night before. However, appearances in Xanth were generally deceptive. They rounded a tree--and skidded to a pause. "A girl!" Hugo exclaimed, as if he had never seen one before.

It did seem to be a girl. But though the size of the figure was between those of Hugo and Ivy, she was no child. She was a pet.i.te, dark, lovely little woman. As she spied them, her hand moved to her hip and drew forth a brightly gleaming knife. "Stay away from me, monster!" she cried.

Ivy realized what the problem was. "That's Stanley," she said. "He's my friend."

"He's a dragon!" the small woman pointed out.

"He's the baby Gap Dragon," Hugo explained.

"The Gap Dragon!" The woman's terror increased. "I thought he looked familiar!" She backed away, knife held ready.

Ivy knew that most women were clumsy with weapons, but this one evidently knew how to use hers. Maybe it was because she was so stunningly pretty, despite her somewhat bedraggled condition. Ivy's mother had impressed upon her that pretty girls needed to be able to defend themselves.

"Oh, come on," Ivy said. "If he doesn't bite me, why should he bite you? You're a people." She patted Stanley on the head.

"The Gap Dragon eats anything, especially people," the woman said. "Anyway, I'm not a people. I'm a goblin girl." Ivy's brow wrinkled. "But goblins are ugly!"

"Not the girls," Hugo said. "My father says the goblin girls are pretty, and he knows just about everything, so it must be true."

"Only the Good Magician knows everything," the woman a.s.serted.

"That's what I said."

She looked at him again, startled. "Yes, the goblin girls are pretty, and the goblin men are ugly," she agreed after a moment. "That's one reason I deserted my tribe to seek romance. Are you quite sure the dragon won't bite?"

Ivy turned to Stanley. "Do you bite goblin girls?"

The dragon puffed steam noncommittally.

"See--he's not hungry anyway," Ivy said. "He's had a good meal of griffin bone and--" She shrugged, not remembering whether Stanley had eaten any fruit this time.

The woman relaxed slightly. "A good meal." Then she stiffened again. "That dragon killed a griffin?"

Ivy laughed. "Oh, no! It was carrion the Cyclops gave him after Stanley steamed his eye."

"The Cyclops!" the woman cried, almost tripping in her effort to retreat farther.

"You misunderstand," Hugo said. "We are friends with the Cyclops. But he never leaves his cave by day."

Again the woman relaxed. "You are unusual people!" She brushed her fine tresses away from her face. "Oh, I'm famished!"

"Famshed?" Ivy asked, perplexed.

"Hungry. I'm about to pa.s.s out on my feet."

Hugo conjured a handful of raspberries. "We have lots of fruit."

"I really haven't eaten since yesterday!" the woman exclaimed, as if this were highly significant news. There was a certain flair in the way she spoke; it was part of her beauty.

"Sit down and eat and tell us your story," Ivy invited her. "I'm Ivy and this is Hugo."

The goblin girl accepted the raspberries and sat delicately on a mossy stone. "I'm Glory, daughter of Gorbage, chief of the north-slope Gap Goblins. My story is very poignant."

Hugo and Ivy were perplexed now. "What kind of ant?" Ivy asked.

Glory smiled briefly as she chewed on a raspberry whose juice was no darker than her lips. "Poignant. It means piquant."

"Another kind of ant?" Ivy asked. "We did see some gi-ants in the coven-tree."

The woman frowned, still looking quite pretty. "I meant to say sad," she clarified. "Pointed and sad."

"Oh," Ivy said. "But I don't like sad stories. Couldn't you make it happy?"

"Possibly it will have a happy ending," Glory said.

"Oh, goody!" And Ivy settled back to listen, while Hugo conjured more fruit for their new acquaintance.

Chapter 11: Dread Seeds.

Irene was beset by doubt. First she worried that they would drop the bag of seeds in the course of the frequent pa.s.sings back and forth; when that didn't happen, she was concerned that she would misplace her grip and fall herself. In between, she was nervous about the impression she was making on those below, climbing down the vine in her blouse and green panties. At age fifteen, she would have loved the excuse; now it bothered her considerably. She wasn't certain whether it would be worse to have people admiring her exposed legs and whatever--or to have people condemning them. She had tried to keep trim and firm, but...

They made it safely. Xap and Chem and Zora were waiting, together with several of the Muses.

As soon as she and the seeds were safely down, Irene grew a dress plant and a new pair of lady-slippers, then clothed herself properly. But her worries were only replaced by others. Where was Ivy now? Had the Cyclops eaten her? No, of course not; the little ivy plant--what a contrast between the one she wore and the one she had climbed!--remained healthy. But it would still take at least a day to get back, unless she grew another flying plant and flew back. Chem wouldn't be able to come along, then, or Zora Zombie, and she needed these friends. Also, none of her flying plants could handle the additional burden of the big bag of seeds. Better to ride back as they had ridden in, though the loss of time chafed.

Suppose they encountered the Python again, or the maenads? There were so many hazards between her and her child!

Irene got a grip on herself and checked her big new bag of seeds. She picked out several familiar ones and several unfamiliar ones, just in case. She had used up so many of her regular seeds that she could no longer depend on them.

The Muses were friendly, civilized, intelligent women, and Irene would have loved to visit with them, but she had no time for chitchat. Any delay could be horrendous for Ivy! As it was, there might not be enough time. Everything was so uncertain! "Let's get moving!" she snapped.

The others looked askance at her but didn't argue. They bade hasty farewell to the Muses and set off down the best path.

Still Irene was agitated. Suppose Chem stumbled and broke a leg? So many things could go wrong!

Grundy looked back at her. "Anything wrong, Irene?" the golem asked. "You looked scared."

"Shut up, you little rag blob!" she snapped.

"He only asked if--" Chem started.

"You too, animal rump!" Irene said.

Hurt, the Centaur was silent. Irene had never before addressed her in such manner, and the language was undeserved.

"The seeds!" Xavier exclaimed. "The big bird said to remember what they were!"

Suddenly it connected. "Doubt, Dissension, and War!" Irene exclaimed. "I've been doubting ever since I got them!"

"That isn't all," Grundy muttered sullenly.

Irene realized that it wasn't enough just to know the cause of her problem. She had to find a way to eliminate the bad effects of the seeds.

"We can carry them," Xavier said helpfully. "Pa.s.s them out, one to a person, so it won't be too bad for none of us."

Despite her doubt, irritation, and growing inclination for violence, Irene saw the merit in the suggestion. The lout was actually pretty smart. She handed the seed of Doubt to Grundy, the seed of Dissension to Xavier, and the seed of War to Zora. She didn't want the two steeds to have them; they were too important for transportation, and Xap would be too dangerous if he developed warlike notions.

Irene felt immediate relief as the seeds left her. Confidence and equilibrium returned. They would make it.

"Lot of bad things on the way," Grundy said. "Maybe we should take another route."

That was the seed of Doubt. It helped to know that; she could ignore the golem.

"Come on, Xap, get your gait straight," Xavier said irritably. "You're bouncing us all over the place, you birdbeak!"

"Don't let the seed of Dissension govern you!" Irene warned, having felt its effect herself so recently.

"Shut your yap, you middle-aged broad!" he snapped at her.

Irene felt the color cruising up her neck and face. She knew the cause of his language, but it was all she could do to hold her tongue.

She looked apprehensively at the zombie, who now rode behind Xavier again. Zora seemed as sanguine as only a zombie could be, despite the fact that zombies had very little blood. Apparently the seeds did not affect the undead. "Give your seeds to Zora," Irene called. "She can handle them." At least Irene hoped so.

It was done. The problem seemed to be solved. One thing Irene now realized--the three dread seeds would do Xanthippe little good! That must be why the Simurgh had decided to send them to the witch.

With the seeds under control and the route known, the travelers should be able to make good progress back to the region where Ivy was lost. Irene began to feel faintly confident. With luck-- Luck was not with them. The Python lay coiled in their path. The huge snake was bruised and had patches of skin missing, but had survived the onslaught of the wild women. The deadly head lifted and the huge jaws gaped, "We ain't off Parna.s.sus yet!" Xavier muttered.

Quickly Irene fetched out her new dragon seed and threw it down before the Python. "Grow!" she cried.

The seed sprouted vigorously--but something happened to Irene's head. She put her hand to her hair--and discovered plants growing there. She had missed three seeds hidden in her hair, and her command had started them off! Normally only the seed she directed her attention to grew, which was why the big bag of seeds wasn't sprouting; but there was some peripheral effect, and seeds actually in contact with her body could also be set off, though at a slower rate. She was starting a garden in her hair!

Worse, there was another seed hidden in her bosom. It must have fallen there during the original spray from the Tree. It was growing inside her blouse, curling around an unmentionable area. She plunged her hand down her neckline, fis.h.i.+ng for the plant.

"What a place this is!" a sneering voice exclaimed from inside her dress. "Are these mountains, pyramids, or bags of sand?"

Worse and worse! That was a devil's tongue plant! She had to catch it and get it out before the others noticed.

"I've heard of cushy locations," the tongue said, slurping around some more. "But this is entirely too much of a good thing! I can't get my roots properly grounded in all this cheesecake."