Part 7 (2/2)
Stanley peered at the odd creatures, as fascinated as Ivy was. One of the huge ants snapped its mandibles at the Dragon, and Stanley jetted some steam back at it. The ant waved its long antennae, and Stanley switched his tail. Mundane monsters made him uncomfortable; they simply weren't natural.
The next cage was labeled MA-MOTHS. Inside were the biggest night b.u.t.terflies Ivy had ever seen, with furry antennae and folded dark wings. They carried no b.u.t.ter, however. They seemed to be asleep, though it was day.
Another cage contained an ENOR-MOUSE crunching up a huge chunk of cheese. Others had TREMEN-DOES, which were large, split-hoofed animals, vaguely like the yak, eating leaves; GIGAN-TICS sucking on a big bloodroot; STUPEN-DOES, even larger than the other does; and IM-MENS, which were ogre-sized men.
Ivy paused at the last exhibit. It didn't seem right to her for any type of men to be imprisoned like this. Her mind was small, so her thoughts translated to action very quickly. ”Stanley, let's let these creatures go,” she said.
The dragon was willing. He jetted so fierce a shot of steam at the leafy lock in the IM-MENS cage that it melted, and the gate swung open. The mens crowded out, pleased with their new freedom.
Ivy and Stanley went back along the cages, melting each lock, having found out how easy it was to free the exhibits. Soon all the confined creatures were free, charging about madly. There was such pandemonium that Ivy and Stanley were daunted. They retreated to the very edge of the coven-tree, climbing the retaining wall. This wall intersected the wall of an adjacent tree where things were less hectic, so they jumped across, leaving the confusion behind.
This new tree was very pretty. WELCOME TO PAGEAN-TREE, its leaf-sign said, and of course they ignored it. They were too interested in all the pretty colors of the foliage, much brighter than the leaves of the last tree, and in the remarkable forms this new foliage a.s.sumed.
There were also marching bands, each band a strip of cloth or cord or rubber with little legs that tramped along at a measured pace, somewhat the way the tough babies of the infant-tree had marched. Ivy was entranced, and Stanley became interested, too, since she thought he would be.
But after a while, even the splendors of the pagean-tree palled, for life was more than pageans, and they jumped to the foliage of still another tree. This was, its sign said, a DATE PALM, its fronds representing all the days of the year. Day lilies grew in little cups of earth, but only one bloomed each day, so that the precise date was always marked. In the very center grew a large century plant, its thick, long, green leaves spreading out in a globe, spiked along the sides and tips.
In the middle of the century plant was something really fascinating. It seemed to be another plant with straight stalks clothed by many small, round, bright leaves that glittered in the sunlight like golden coins. ”Ooooh, pretty!” Ivy exclaimed. ”I want one!” Little girls resembled big cranes in this respect; they liked pretty things.
She tried to get in to the coin plant, but the spurs of the century plant prevented her. The spurs were very st.u.r.dy, so she could not simply push them aside. Stanley helped, steaming each spur so that it turned soft, which enabled Ivy to pa.s.s. But progress was slow, for there were many spurs. Stanley had to stay right with her, because as soon as the two of them pa.s.sed, the spurs became hard again. Stanley tried to chew off a leaf, but its juices were like those of a zombie, and he quickly desisted before he got sick. So they wriggled and scrambled their way through the many thick leaves with Stanley expending much steam, until at last they arrived at the bright plant in the very center.
Ivy reached for a coin, a smile of innocent delight on her face. But the moment her little fingers touched the golden leaf, there was a flare of light from the plant that bathed both girl and dragon, making the entire scene glow eerily. It was a glow Ivy's mother had seen in a vision but had not quite understood, for it was only an incidental part of the vision.
The two of them froze exactly as they were, becoming living statues, unmoving, unbreathing.
They had been caught by one of the least dramatic but most powerful plants in Xanth, the one that ultimately governed and brought down almost every other living creature: thyme.
Chapter 6: Xanthippe.
The storm had cleared by morning, but it had had its revenge on Irene by wiping out all conceivable tracks and traces and so battering the vegetation that it could not remember the events of the day before. The trail was now thoroughly cold and wet.
In addition, the sun was laggard about penetrating the cloud cover, so Irene couldn't dry her clothing properly. She grew new bloomers and slippers, and from dry towels fas.h.i.+oned a skirt and jacket, cut and b.u.t.toned appropriately. She wasn't entirely comfortable, but she set out bravely enough, making Grundy query every plant in the region, just in case. None of them remembered Ivy.
”I hesitate to suggest this,” Chem began, ”but--”
”Then don't suggest it!” Irene snapped. She knew what the centaur was going to say--that something had captured Ivy and taken her away, so that the little girl might never be found. But the ivy plant remained green, signaling the child's health, and Irene would not rest until she rescued her.
They searched for hours. At one point a griffin spied the party and swooped down for a closer look. Griffins were among the most feared creatures of the wilderness, as they possessed the bodies of lions and the wings of eagles and were always hungry and ferocious. But Irene gave this one no shrift. She hurled down a boxwood seed and ordered it to grow.
The plant grew into a small tree with many hard, wooden gnarls. It moved these gnarls about, boxing at the griffin. The boxwood was aggressive; it liked physical contact. Only a few of these attacks were necessary before the animal fled.
Finally Grundy got a lead. ”This anchor plant saw her! It's very hard to dislodge, so the rain couldn't wash out its memory.
”But--”
”But what?” Irene cried, das.h.i.+ng over.
”But she had a companion,” the golem said reluctantly. ”Not the yak.”
”But she's all right!” Irene said, as if daring the golem to deny it.
”Yes. But the creature she met--”
”It didn't attack her!” Irene said with the same defiance. Her ivy plant remained vigorous, rea.s.suring her.
”Not exactly...”
”Perhaps I had better question him--” Chem offered.
But Irene would have none of the centaur's level headedness. An uncomfortable night, physically and emotionally, had shortened her fuse, and she had never been especially noted for her patience. ”Out with it, knothead! What creature?”
”It sounds like the Gap Dragon.”
Now Irene reacted. She had been braced for anything. Anything but this. She fell back against Chem, almost collapsing. The centaur grabbed her to support her. ”The--Gap--?”
”Reduced,” Grundy said quickly. ”Remember, you told us it got doused with Youth elixir and youthened into babyhood, just like Humfrey.”
”But the G--Gap Dragon!” Irene protested. ”The most vicious monster in Xanth! No matter what size it is now!”
”Yes. The same.”
Irene nerved herself. ”What happened?”
Grundy queried the anchor plant. ”They seem to have made friends,” he reported doubtfully. ”They walked away together.”
”The Gap Dragon has no friends!” Irene said, perversely arguing with him. ”It's a loner. It eats everything it catches.”
”That can't be entirely true,” Chem said. ”Unless the dragon is immortal, it must have had parents, and it will have to breed to reproduce itself. So there must be a place in its scheme for companions.h.i.+p. And now it has been rejuvenated. It could indeed be immortal, if it uses the Fountain of Youth regularly--but I doubt that is the case. Regardless, it could be lonely, as a child in that situation would be.”
”Some child!” Grundy exclaimed.
”Children do differ from adults,” the centaur insisted. ”They are more impressionable, more open--”
”More likely the dragon just didn't happen to be hungry at the moment, so it saved her for the next meal,” Grundy suggested helpfully.
Chem aimed a forehoof at the golem but missed. Irene, just beginning to believe that her child might possibly be all right, suffered a renewed pang. The Gap Dragon was a scheming, canny creature, smarter than the average dragon. ”We had better catch up to them soon!” she said grimly.
They traced the youngsters to an infant-tree. Several of the tough babies remembered the pair. ”'Sure we chased 'em,'” Grundy translated. ”The beast really steamed us! We don't take that s.h.i.+ft from anyone!'”
”But where did they go?” Irene demanded.
”What's it to you, old dame?” another baby asked, hanging loose as the golem translated.
”Just answer the question, you little swinger,” Irene said sternly.
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