Golem in the Gears (25 page)

"Get the wood! Get the wood!" Grundy cried.

Snortimer tried, but as he reached for it, the allegory snapped at his hand and he had to whip it back out of the way. The reptile reached for it with its snout, but Snor- timer made two big hairy fists and punched a one-two

combination on that snout.

Now Jordan arrived. "Back off!" he called. "I'll take

care of that critter!"

That seemed best. But as Snortimer retreated and Jor- dan advanced, the allegory lunged at the chip of wood and caught it in its mouth. Before they could act, the creature swallowed the wood and started to scramble for the water, where Grundy knew it would be almost impos- sible to catch it.

But then the reptile stiffened. In a moment it collapsed and lay still. Jordan, ready to swing at it with his sword,

hesitated.

Grundy realized what had happened. "It's dead," he said. "It was magically animated by the Hag, and when it swallowed the wood, it reversed. Now it's magically unanimated—and so it is dead."

"Well, that solves that problem then," Jordan said. He chopped down with the sword, cutting the body in half. Then he fished out the chip of wood and rinsed it in the

nearest water.

For a moment Grundy wondered why the wood didn't hurt the barbarian, but then realized that Jordan had long- since healed and was not using his magic talent now. In effect, he was an ordinary man, and so the wood had no

effect on him.

They had recovered the wood, and that was good. But now the Hag was a ghost again, and that was bad. Had they been able to leave her as the allegory, she might not have been able to pursue them, for it would have been very difficult for her to kill herself in that form.

"I will hold it right in my hand, hereafter!" Arnolde said as they returned the chip to him. "I had set it beside me, because the magic frame really is more comfortable than the Mundane, but I see in retrospect that that was a miscalculation." And he clamped his hand firmly around it.

They returned to sleep, though in Grundy's case it was not the easiest thing to do. But Rapunzel whispered to him how brave he had been and held his hand, and that was very pleasant. He almost regretted that they were about to escape this trap.

In the morning they ate again and started off. Threnody had changed to golem-size, to Grundy's surprise; sud- denly there were two women in his range. The three of them got on the bed, which Jordan had tied to Amolde's back, and rode along in style. Snortimer was squeezed under it, since this was day, and Jordan walked along beside.

"Do your changes in shape and size bother Jordan?" Rapunzel asked Threnody as they moved out.

"No," the woman said with a laugh. "I'm always the right size for him, when he wants me to be. We all have different talents, and each of us can do things the other can't."

"But you can become much larger than he can," Rapunzel persisted. "Doesn't he get afraid, when you're huge?"

"Never. It's not the size that counts, it's the relation- ship. I love him. He could slay me with one sweep of his sword, and I could not recover, but I know he wouldn't, because he loves me."

"The relationship," Rapunzel agreed. "That makes everything all right."

Grundy listened without commenting. It might be true

that the relationship was more important than the size— but she had relationships yet to form with her human and/ or elven kinfolk. He knew, if she did not, that no golem was a part of either society. How he wished it could be

otherwise!

Here in the Mundane aisle, in the light of day, the scene

was strange indeed. The nearest palm tree no longer had hands and fingers; instead it had funny large green leaves, each deeply serrated to resemble hundreds of thick blades of grass. It was singularly uninteresting. When they passed by a cocoa-nut tree, the big nut was not chocolaty at all, but a big, crude capsule of fiber that it would have been impossible to eat. When they stepped into the sea of grass, however, it was—a sea of grass.

With a difference. This was not a true swamp, but what seemed to be an imitation swamp set up on a barren sur- face. It was as if someone had dumped some globs of mud and splashed some water and set out some tufts of grass, so that, from a distance, it would look like a real swamp, and left it there. But a short distance away, beyond the aisle, the swamp returned in its full force, the grass being thick and green. It was easy to see where the aisle left off, because of the poverty of the scenery that commenced

at its edge.

They proceeded to the next copse of trees—and the terrain changed. The grass fell behind, and ordinary Xanth

vegetation returned.

Arnolde came to a halt. "The Mundane aisle is not kind to normal things," he said. "I think you will travel more pleasantly if I leave you now. I believe the camp of the Fauns is immediately ahead."

Grundy knew he was right. Fauns and Nymphs were fundamentally magical creatures, and reverse-wood would not make them comfortable at all. Amolde had done his

job, and they were duly grateful. All of them told him so emphatically, which embarrassed him. Perhaps the fact that Rapunzel and Threnody climbed up and kissed his right and left ears, respectively, had something to do with it. He was after all a rather self-effacing scholar, not given to heroism.

Amolde departed, his ears still blushing, to pursue his further experiments with Mundane-aisle Effects, and the rest of them went on to the Faun camp.

"I'll carry the bed again," Jordan said. "Just tie it on my back, same as before."

"But it's day," Grundy protested. "Snortimer needs it." "Why? He's standing in daylight now okay." Astonished, they all looked at the Bed Monster. There he was, in full light, suffering no harm. "How—?" Grundy asked.

"Amolde gave me a sliver of the reverse-wood," Snor- timer explained in Bed-Monster tongue. "He thought that if it reversed all magic, including his, it should reverse mine. So I tried it."

"That's one smart centaur!" Jordan said. "We could have done that before," Grundy exclaimed. "When we had the other reverse-wood! We never thought of it."

"Because we're not smart centaurs," Threnody said. So they tied the bed to Jordan's back. Now three of them rode on Snortimer, but their combined weight was so slight it didn't matter. Grundy realized that this gave Threnody the chance to continue resting and healing while traveling. "You know, this is a nice enough size," she remarked. "I should use it more often."

"It certainly seems adequate to me," Rapunzel agreed. Grundy said nothing. He had no choice; this was the only size he had ever known.

The approach to the Faun & Nymph Retreat was a single, fairly narrow path that wound about through a gully that soon became a chasm. Sheer cliffs rose up on either side, peaking in a jagged mountain range that hadn't been visible from a distance. It was evident that this path was the only way anyone could enter the premises. It was pleasant enough, however, and there were no signs of

danger.

It opened on a truly delightful scene. There was a fine blue lake beside a lovely little mountain, with a thick green forest filling in around them both. The whole was enclosed by the jagged ring of mountains.

In a moment the residents showed up. They appeared to be as harmless as the scenery: they were dancing Fauns and Nymphs. The Fauns were roughly human in form, but with hoofed feet, shaggy legs, and little horns on their heads. The Nymphs were naked, youthful women, each prettier than the others. They swung their tresses engag- ingly about as they danced. "Oh," Rapunzel said, putting a hand to her shorn hair.

"You are beautiful with or without your hair," Grundy told her seriously.

"Oh!" she repeated, brightening.

The Fauns and Nymphs swarmed up. From close range, they appeared to be of several different types, but all were smiling and friendly. "It's so interesting to see them in person," Rapunzel said. "Dryads and Dryfauns, Oreads and Orefauns, Naiads and Naifauns—"

"What, what, and what?" Grundy asked.

"The different species of Nymphs and Fauns," she explained. "The Drys live in the trees, the Ores in the mountains, and the Nais in the lake. Each adapts to its

environment—"

But now the residents were crowding around. "What

strange creatures!" they exclaimed. "The one wears a bed and the others are little folk on a monster!" For the Fauns and Nymphs were far larger than golems, though not large by human standards.

"We're looking for a little dragon," Grundy said. "We understand he's here. His name is Stanley Steamer."

"Stanley!" they exclaimed. "Yes! Yes!"

Now Stanley himself appeared—and Grundy was amazed. The dragon was no longer little and cute; he had in the intervening years become a formidable middle-sized monster. He looked perfectly healthy and happy.

"Stanley!" Grundy called in dragon-talk. "My how you've grown!"

The dragon whomped up to join them, exhaling cheer- ful clouds of steam. "But you haven't!" he replied, recog- nizing Grundy. "And who are those two golem girls?"

"This is Threnody," Grundy said, indicating her. "You've met her before; she's usually larger. And this is Rapunzel, Ivy's pun-pal. I rescued her from the Ivory Tower, on the way to rescuing you."

"Me? I don't need rescuing!" Stanley protested.

"What is he saying?" Jordan asked.

"He says he doesn't need rescuing," Grundy said. He returned to dragon-talk. "Then why didn't you return to Ivy?"

Now Stanley looked sad. "I would like to. But I can't." "Are the Fauns and Nymphs holding you?" "Not exactly."

"Then you are free to go, aren't you?" "No."

Grundy turned to the others; "He says they aren't hold- ing him captive, but he's not free to go." "That doesn't make sense," Jordan said. But now the Fauns and Nymphs were swarming over

Stanley, hugging him and kissing him and teasing him, and his attention was distracted; there was no point in trying to question him further at the moment.

Threnody's eyes narrowed. "I think I begin to get a glimmer why he isn't eager to leave," she said.

Grundy nodded. "Who would!"

"Oh, you like that sort of treatment?" Rapunzel inquired.

"Well—"

"I thought maybe you didn't."

"We have to figure out how to get Stanley to go home," he said gruffly.

But the more they saw of the Faun & Nymph Retreat, the less likely their mission seemed to succeed. These creatures seemed to spend all day in innocent pleasures, swimming, playing, eating, laughing and chatting merrily. There was never a cross word, never a scowl; everything was optimistic. They did not exclude the visitors; Grundy and his party were welcomed into water, mountain and trees.

Threnody noted Jordan watching half a dozen green- haired Dryads playing tag in the spreading branches of a great old acom tree. The Nymphs screamed shrilly with joy as they chased one another about, and their arms and legs flashed prettily, and their bare bosoms heaved, and their tresses flung about with abandon. "I think I'd better get back to human-size," she muttered darkly.

Meanwhile a party of Orefauns was scaling the central mountain, linked together by ropes. There really wasn't anywhere to go, and there wasn't much challenge, as it was a very small mountain, but they seemed happy in their activity. It was as if they had never done this before. Their hooves were good for this kind of work.

The Naiads and Naifauns were playing water polo,

flinging a ball about, splashing and ducking each other and having, if possible, an even better time than the others.

Then there was a stir back at the entrance to the Retreat. A party of goblins had showed up, armed with spears and clubs. "Round up the juiciest ones," the goblin chief cried. "We'll feast tonight."

The nearest Nymphs screamed as they were grabbed. Stanley's ears perked up. He had settled down under a tree for a snooze, but now he was alert. He huffed up a head of steam and whomped toward the goblins.

"Dragon!" the chief cried in terror.

The goblins dropped the struggling Nymphs and fled back down the path. Stanley whomped after them, toast- ing their rears with fierce steam. In a moment the goblins were gone.

The Nymphs returned to their play, seemingly uncon- cerned about their near escape.

Grundy shook his head. "Now I think I understand why he can't leave," he said. "These Fauns and Nymphs are helpless before any predator. They don't know how to fight. They can't organize. They forget any bad thing as soon as it is past. If Stanley weren't here, they would soon be decimated by the goblins and anything else that came by."

"And if we take him away," Rapunzel said, "it would be at great cost to them."

"But I promised to bring him back to Castle Roogna," Grundy said. "It's my Quest, and I have to fulfill it if I possibly can."

"Even at such a cost?" she asked.

"I don't know." Indeed, he discovered himself at the crossroads of the most difficult choice he had yet faced. He couldn't give up his Quest—yet it would be wrong to

deprive this community of its only protection from the hazards of the region.