Part 9 (1/2)

”Aw, Maw,” Xavier said. ”Now you've scared Xap. He don't want any foal! Can't we go flying instead?”

”No, you can't, nitwit!” the witch shrieked. ”I'm going to breed you both to these fine females. I want to be a grandmother before I kick off. Now let's get on with it!”

Irene, shocked by the whole business, had been silent. Now she realized that she might, after all, have a common cause with the witch's son. ”Xanthippe, Xavier doesn't want to marry, especially not an old married woman like me. You can't force your son into a commitment like this and hope to keep his love.”

”He'll do what I say!” the witch snapped.

”Maybe so. But you will inevitably alienate him, and the moment you pa.s.s away, he'll do what he wants. Can't you see, it's no good! He doesn't want me, and I don't want him. These things never work out unless they're voluntary. Love is one thing you can't compel with your stare. You really have nothing to gain, and considerable to lose.”

”Oh, I don't know,” Grundy said. ”A smart, spirited, golden grandchild who can breed--”

Chem, closest to him, stomped the top of the golem's cage with a forehoof The sound was like a minor crack of thunder. The golem took the hint and shut up.

”Confound it, I can't wait for him to get around to it,” the witch complained. ”All he wants to do is fly! A wife and family will make him grow up and settle down.”

Irene had to agree with that a.n.a.lysis. Her husband Dor had settled down considerably after their marriage, and that made him a better King. But the witch had decided on the wrong match up!

”Aw, Maw, I don't want to--”

”Quiet, you moronic child!” Xanthippe shrieked.

”That's telling him, crone!” Grundy called.

Irene cast about desperately for a way out of this. The witch might be wrongheaded, but the witch had the power. ”Maybe I could do something else for you,” she suggested. ”I could grow you a nice tree, even an orchard, with plants that would otherwise take years to mature--”

”I've got trees galore,” the witch said. ”Your brat messed up my coven-tree exhibits something awful!”

”I'll try to get them back for you!” Irene said.

”No, I was about ready to get some new exhibits anyway. But I planned to do it in an orderly fas.h.i.+on. You have nothing I want except your body for my son.”

”Then I'll fetch him a nymph!”

”Nymphs don't breed. They're playmates, not reproducers. He's already had more than enough play time.”

There seemed to be some justice in that statement. Irene cudgeled her brain for some other notion that might appeal to the single-minded witch, but nothing offered.

”There must be something!” Chem said. Her fate was on the line, too. ”Witches always need strange things for their collections.”

”The only other thing I want, you could not get,” the witch said shortly. ”But as mates for my son and his steed, you are, as it were, birds in the hand.”

”Try us,” Chem said. ”We might surprise you.”

”Yeah, try them, battle-axe,” Grundy agreed.

”Quiet, you runty rag snippet,” the witch told him. ”I am just about to try them! Xavier, come stand before this woman, so I can give her the order--”

”I meant the alternative service!” Chem cried.

”Nice choice of terms, mare-mane,” Grundy remarked.

”What is the one other thing you want?” Irene cried, picking up on Chem's lead.

”Aw, Maw don't want nothing else--” Xavier began.

”Quiet, you moron!” Irene snapped at him.

Xanthippe considered. ”Very well, I will mention the other matter, so that you can see it is useless to consider. All my long and angry life I have wanted three seeds from the Tree of Seeds--”

”Seeds!” Irene exclaimed. ”I know about seeds!”

The witch paused, re-appraising her. ”Why, so you do! You do have a way with plants. However, these are not ordinary seeds, and I seriously doubt--”

”What is this Tree of Seeds?” Chem asked, more cautious about an unknown commitment than Irene was. ”I don't believe I have information on it.”

Irene realized that it had to be an extremely rare tree, for centaurs were well educated, with a great bent for taxonomy, and Chem specialized in geography. Indeed, she had mapped most of Xanth as part of her course of centaur research. Because of her, the once-unknown regions of the Elements in northern Xanth were now known. She would be aware of the most significant things in Xanth.

”It's on Mount Parna.s.sus, hidden in the illiterate wilderness,” the witch explained. ”Only my son's hippogryph knows how to reach it from here. And the Tree is guarded by the Simurgh.”

”The Simurgh!” Chem explained. ”That's the wisest bird alive! It has seen the destruction of the universe three times and has all the knowledge of the ages! I didn't realize it remained in Xanth; I thought it had departed centuries ago. How I'd love to interview it, even for an hour!”

”Which relates to the rest of my desire,” Xanthippe said. ”What I'd like is a feather from its tail. Those feathers have magical properties, and can cure wounds. But the way to Mount Parna.s.sus is so dangerous--”

”This Tree of Seeds,” Irene said.. ”What kind of seeds does it have?”

”All the seeds produced by all the wild plants that exist,” the witch said, her wicked old eyes turning dreamy for a moment. ”The seed from which my own coven-tree sprouted came from there centuries ago. Likewise the pagean-tree, geome-tree, infant-tree, indus-tree and psychia-tree.”

”I would very much like to see that psychia-tree,” Chem murmured. ”I suspect that would be a mind-affecting experience.”

”There are seeds on the Tree of Seeds that no longer exist anywhere else,” the witch concluded. ”Seeds no ordinary person can even imagine!”

”I'm sure a centaur could imagine them,” Chem said.

”Such as the ex-seed, the pro-seed, and the inter-seed,” Xanthippe said.

”All the seeds that exist!” Irene breathed. ”How I'd like to see that Tree!”

”You can't reach it,” the witch a.s.serted. ”Parna.s.sus is guarded by the Python, who consumes anyone who sets foot there. No one of any intelligence has ventured near Parna.s.sus in decades.”

”But we aren't that smart,” Grundy said. ”We might venture.”

For once the big-mouthed golem was correct! ”Suppose we make you a deal,” Irene said. ”We'll fetch your three seeds and one feather, and you'll return my child and let us go.”

Xanthippe shook her head. ”It's too much of a gamble. You might never return.”

”But of course I'll return for my child!” Irene exclaimed.