Part 3 (2/2)
Both progressed, or regressed, to childhood.
”They both OD'd,” the Gorgon said. ”I suppose we're lucky they didn't youthen into nothing. Both are over a century old; that's probably all that saved them. I used the emergency spell Humfrey left me to conjure him back--”
The baby Magician disappeared from the image. Irene quelled her shock, realizing that this was not youthening into nonexistence, but simply the operation of the conjuration-spell. Humfrey vanished from the scene in the mirror because he had appeared here in his castle.
Hugo, dismayed and confused, began to cry. The baby dragon shook itself, looked about, spread its fledgling wings, and scooted away, terrified.
The mirror image faded out. Irene turned to look again at the baby in the playroom. ”It really is Humfrey!” she breathed.
The Gorgon sighed. ”It really is. And Hugo is still out there. He didn't seem to get any of the water on himself, but that's about the only bright spot. I can't tune in on him with the mirror, because it is set on Humfrey and I don't know how to retune it. As soon as it realized Humfrey was gone from the scene, it quit the image. I can't even go out to search for my lost son, because--”
Irene realized that the Gorgon was crying under her veil.
She had been devastated in the last hour and needed help. Irene knew exactly how that felt--but was surprised to discover that the Gorgon, older and more experienced than Irene and the most formidable woman in Xanth when she lifted her veil, was in fact less well equipped to handle such calamity than was Irene herself. Physical or magical power did not serve as well at this moment as did emotional stability.
”Come, sit down, and we'll work this out,” Irene said, taking the Gorgon by the elbow. ”My child is out there, too. That's why I came here.” But obviously her mission had been in vain; there would be no help from Humfrey now.
The Gorgon suffered herself to be guided. Soon they were in the kitchen, the most comfortable place for married women, sharing cups of T sweetened by the product of B's.
Irene eyed a plate of cheeses. One piece was huge, with a mottled rind, and when she reached for it, it growled menacingly. ”Don't take that,” the Gorgon warned. ”It's monster cheese, reserved for muensters--I mean monsters. Try this instead.” She turned the plate to present another type.
Irene took a piece and chewed delicately. ”It's good. What kind is it?”
”Gorgon-zola. I make it myself. I stare at it through my veil until it's half petrified.”
Irene had to smile. This was a useful incidental aspect of the Gorgon's dread talent.
Now they got down to business. ”First we must get a good baby-sitter for Humfrey. Uh, is there any known cure for magic youthening?”
”Only time--the same as for the victim of a love spring,” the Gorgon said sadly. ”But I'm willing to wait, knowing that in due course he will regain his full powers and be in the prime of life. But what a wait that will be, even if I get hold of some Fountain of Youth water myself so I can rejoin him in middle age. And who will fill the role he does for Xanth?”
The outlook did look dismal. ”Usually there is some countercharm,” Irene said. ”If there were some substance or spell to reverse the effect, to age him more rapidly--”
”Only Humfrey would know where to find that,” the Gorgon said. ”And he is the one who doesn't know, now.”
It was an unfortunate irony. Irene shrugged and chewed her cheese, unable to offer any other suggestions.
”But I've got to rescue Hugo!” the Gorgon exclaimed. ”Did you say someone could come here and care for Humfrey while I'm going out to find my son?”
”Lacuna, the Zombie Master's daughter, will do nicely. She's just sixteen and good with children.” Irene suffered a retroactive regret that the twins' debut had been so rudely shattered; instead of a party, there had been disaster.
”Oh, yes, I know Lacuna. A perfect imp of a child. She used to print messages all over the castle. Things like NEVER PUT OFF TILL TOMORROW WHAT YOU CAN DO TODAY. It seems funny in retrospect, but it was annoying at the time.”
Irene's brow furrowed. ”Annoying?”
”It was printed on the toilet,” Irene swallowed her chuckle.
”I won't even inquire what Hiatus did to the bathroom.” Hiatus' talent was growing eyes, ears, noses, and mouths from walls and other places. ”Lacuna was taking care of Ivy, and I believe it was no fault of hers that Ivy got lost. The Gap Dragon--” It was hard to speak so objectively, but it was necessary; time was of the essence. ”Lacuna lived here as a child; she surely knows how to stay out of trouble and where the facilities are. She won't poke into the Magician's spells.” Irene had divided the Good Magician, in her mind, into two aspects: the century-plus old man he used to be, and the baby who now existed. The presence of the old Humfrey would always be felt here, no matter how long he was away. ”You can give her any special pointers she needs; the rest will come naturally. That will free you to go out and fetch Hugo with a clear conscience.”
The obscure countenance behind the thick veil brightened.
Now the Gorgon had a positive program of action! ”I don't know why I didn't think of that myself!” she exclaimed.
”We'll have to get Lacuna here quickly,” Irene continued. ”That wilderness jungle is dangerous for children.” But there was no need to remind anyone of that ugly reality; best not to dwell on it. ”The carpet's lost; we don't know how to use Humfrey's stocked spells; is there anything else?”
The Gorgon considered. ”The roc,” she said. ”It will obey you now, since you got past it. It can fly very fast.”
”I'm sure it can,” Irene agreed, not much liking this idea but aware that it was probably best. ”I will have to return to Castle Zombie to tell Dor what has happened here, then go after Ivy myself.”
”I'll help you!” the Gorgon said. ”We can go together, combining our searches!”
”No use. Your son's lost at the Fountain of Youth; my daughter's lost near Castle Zombie. I don't know how close the two are to each other--”
”I don't know either,” the Gorgon admitted. ”Only Humfrey knew the location of the Fountain. But it has to be somewhere in that region.”
”What about the Zombie Master?” Irene asked. ”You said he knew--”
”Eight hundred years ago, he knew. But in his long tenure as a zombie, he forgot. All he remembered was that it did exist, and somewhere in that area; Humfrey worked from there to pinpoint it precisely.”
”But Humfrey must have told--” The Gorgon shook her head. ”That was not his way.” All too true. The Good Magician had been notoriously tightfisted with information of any type, to the frustration of others, even kings.
”Since both Ivy and Hugo are in peril,” Irene said, ”we'll have to look for them separately. You rescue yours, I'll rescue mine--and pray we're both successful.”
”Yes,” the Gorgon agreed faintly, and Irene realized that the woman had really wanted to make the search together. Probably she needed the moral support in this hour of crisis. But it just didn't make sense in the circ.u.mstance; they might find one child and lose the other.
”Will you be all right, alone in the jungle?” Irene asked solicitously.
The Gorgon touched her veil suggestively. ”Who will challenge me there?”
Who, indeed! The Gorgon had less to fear from monsters than did any other person. ”Then it's agreed. Let me use the roc to return to Castle Zombie, and then it can bring Lacuna here, and then you can have it take you to the general region of the Fountain, which I think must be north of the castle; that's the way Humfrey went when he left.”
”Yes,” the Gorgon agreed. ”Oh, Irene, you've been so much help! I didn't know what to do until you came!”
Irene patted her hand rea.s.suringly. But inside, she was not at all a.s.sured. She had come here for help--and there was none. Humfrey's horror had been added to her own.
Chapter 3: Yak Talk.
Ivy looked around her. She was in a nice jungle with many interesting things, so she inspected each one in turn.
She realized something was in her hand, and she put it in her pocket so it wouldn't distract her.
Closest was a plant that smelled like a pickle, but its branches and leaves were so hard as to be metallic. ”What are you?” she inquired, but the plant didn't answer.
She pouted. She didn't like unresponsive things. She walked on, looking for something that would talk to her.
<script>