Part 12 (1/2)

”Not Xap. Zap. With a Z-snore sound.”

Irene couldn't distinguish the distinction of p.r.o.nunciation but concluded that one was the animal, the other an action. ”You zap things,” she repeated.

”I don't ever do it to friends,” he clarified. ”I don't like hurting folks. But when I'm hunting or something, or if a monster comes after me--” He shrugged.

That sounded like a weapon. Irene's interest increased. They were deep in unexplored Xanth, and monsters could appear at any time. Xavier had evidently traveled through this region and had no fear of it, so his zapping must be effective. Of course, the hippogryph represented considerable protection for him, so maybe his talent didn't matter. ”Could you demonstrate?”

”I guess so.” He looked about. ”See that cobra plant getting ready to strike the Filly's leg?”

Irene looked, startled. Sure enough, the plant was rearing its flattened stem, with two thorn-fangs glistening from its flower. When a cobra plant spread such a cape, the prudent person vacated the region quickly. But Chem was in dialogue with Xap, Grundy translating. Chem wanted to determine a good mapable route to Parna.s.sus, so that the mountain would no longer be unattainable. She did not see the dangerous plant, and Irene was afraid to call out to her for fear that would trigger the strike. It was a delicate situation. ”I see it,” she murmured.

Xavier pointed his right forefinger. Something shot out from it at about the speed of light, possibly a little faster, and zapped right through the lifted cobra head. The plant hissed and expired, bleeding poisonous sap.

”Why--” Irene said, astonished. ”You can kill with that!”

”Oh, sure. Anything, any time. But I don't like to hurt creatures. I mean, they got feelings and things, same as I do. So I just go fly with Xap and I zap at the clouds. It don't hurt them none, you see, and it sharpens my aim. That's fun. 'Course, there's this one cloud. King Fracto, who don't like it; he zaps back with lightning jags. Xap lost some tail feathers once--well, he don't have tail feathers, but same place. Fracto's always looking for a fight.”

”I think I've met him,” Irene said, remembering the cloud she had encountered on the way to the Good Magician's castle. ”He has a bad att.i.tude.”

”I don't mind zapping Fracto. But I wouldn't zap a bird.”

Or a person, she trusted. ”That's very good, Xavier,” she said carefully. ”Certainly you don't want to hurt any friendly creatures.”

He looked at her more squarely. ”Gee, you sure are pretty, miss. You got a shape on you like a nymph.”

And he had told her he knew what to do with a nymph. It seemed that, though he resisted his mother's influence and was determined to make up his own mind, that mind had not yet excluded Irene from consideration. She could not afford to have his interest fix on her in that manner. Even if he were more innocent than he claimed, it was a fact that innocent youths did not necessarily remain so indefinitely. ”I'm an old married woman, looking for her child,” she said quickly.

”Oh, sure, you'll get the kid back safe,” he agreed encouragingly. ”Too bad Maw caught you, the way she does everyone, or you'd probably have found the tot by now.”

Very likely true, Irene reflected ruefully. The distractions of this quest to Parna.s.sus had blunted her concern somewhat, for immediacies always came first, but she knew she could never really rest until Ivy was safe again.

What she had learned about Xavier was important, too. Before this conversation, it had not occurred to her that this backwoods hick could be dangerous. He was a powerful man, his talent was deadly, and his steed was one of the most formidable creatures of Xanth. If he had shared his mother's temperament, or if for any reason he turned against Irene--She had a fine line to walk. She could not afford to have Xavier become either too friendly or too unfriendly. It would be best if he and Xap flew elsewhere, as soon as Parna.s.sus was reached.

Chem turned about and came over, carrying Grundy. ”Xap says there is some bad terrain between us and Parna.s.sus,” she said. ”He can fly over it, but I can not, so I've got to scout it out. Then I'll be able to thread my way through it safely. He says there's a knoll not far distant from which we can see the mountain, a good place from which to map the intervening terrain. If we go immediately, we can reach the knoll before dark. So if you don't mind, Irene--”

”You want us all to go?” Irene asked, dismayed. ”I can't finish growing the tree house after dark--”

”No, I can move much faster alone,” the centaur said.

”But you're tired--”

”Not any more.”

”You don't need me along, do you?” Grundy asked. ”I want to rest.”

”Yes, naturally you will remain here,” Chem said, smiling obliquely. ”I will not require translation on this foray.”

”Good enough,” Grundy said, jumping down.

”But are you sure you want to--to go alone with such a creature--?” Irene asked worriedly.

Again that oblique smile. ”I am sure.”

An amazing notion pushed at Irene's consciousness as she glanced at the powerful bird-horse standing a short distance away. Xap was as fine a specimen of creature as she had seen in a long time, all muscle and feather and gleam. Could Chem want some private time with the hippogryph? Impossible! And yet centaurs were crossbreeds, and so were hippogryphs, with a common heritage through their equine ancestry. Chem had found no suitable male centaur, and Xap had found no female of his kind. Could Chem want a foal who could fly?

Irene s.h.i.+fted her thoughts. It was none of her business. ”I'm sure we can get along here until you return. We do need to find a good route to Parna.s.sus.” Among other things, she added silently.

”Excellent.” Chem turned about and trotted back to Xap.

She did indeed seem to have lost her fatigue. Then the two s.h.i.+fted into a gallop and were quickly out of sight.

Irene shook her head. ”And I thought I understood centaurs!” she exclaimed to herself. It seemed the witch's notion of breeding had fallen on fertile soil, after all.

Xavier stared after the two. ”Well, I'll be jiggered! She's grounded him! I thought he didn't go for landbound fillies!”

”Never underestimate the power of a filly,” Irene murmured. She remained astonished at this development, but cautioned herself that it was mostly conjecture. She could be misreading it all.

She wished Chem well, in whatever the centaur had in mind, but was now doubly nervous about her own situation. She was virtually alone with a man who could zap holes in creatures. Of course she could grow plants to protect herself--but she didn't want to do that unless she was quite certain of the need. The manner in which Xavier had zapped the cobra plant unnerved her, now that she thought about it. She would not be able to handle him with mere p.u.s.s.y-willows!

Of course Grundy was here, and Zora Zombie, but she really would have preferred Chem. However, the centaur had her own affairs, if that was not putting it too bluntly.

The tree house was almost complete. It would have been done before now if Ivy had been here, Irene knew. Her power was diminis.h.i.+ng in the absence of her daughter. The loss would not be critical, but it was noticeable. She had allowed enough time, for the daylight had not yet faded. She would plant some sword ferns around the base of the tree to prevent intrusion by nocturnal predators; the fern would not grow any more by night, but wouldn't need to; any foot stepping on it would get slashed.

Now there was the problem of sleeping. She hadn't thought of it before, being concerned with her mission and the unusual social interactions this party was experiencing. She had once supposed that the trip to Parna.s.sus could be completed in a few hours, perhaps a day. A foolish notion, obviously. So they had to camp along the way, which was routine. There was room for four in the tree house. But when the four were a woman, a golem, a zombie, and a strange man...

She could take precautions, however. She climbed into the tree house and planted a monkey-puzzle tree. She knew what its grown configuration would be, so she would be able to crawl in and out of its cage-like puzzle readily, while others would not. She sprouted a few saw ferns at the entrance; they would not saw at her, but would at others, and she would have a fairly secure, fairly private chamber within the tree house, without having to make an issue of it. A lot could be done with plants when a person had the talent, as well as a little foresight.

But oh, she wished she were back with Dor and Ivy at Castle Roogna! She worried how Dor was getting along without her. He really didn't have much of a head for governing; few men did, aside from her father. That was why women were essential.

Well, that was hardly the only reason women were necessary! Nonetheless, men had their uses, too.

Irene jumped down from the tree house, then lifted her head, hearing a noise. It sounded like the screeching of a wounded hydra.

Xavier was listening, too. ”Hey, I don't like that,” he said.

”Could be a covy of harpies. If it comes too close, I'll have to zap it.”

Now Irene was glad about his talent, for the sounds were raising hairs on her neck. So far, they had been fortunate and had not encountered anything bad; that luck was evidently about to change.

”It's coming close,” Grundy said. ”Irene, you'd better grow a plant quickly.”

But darkness was closing rapidly, inhibiting her power.

Also, until she knew the precise nature of the threat, she could not select an appropriate seed--and she feared by then it would be too late. ”I think we'll have to depend on Xavier,” she said reluctantly. It wasn't that she doubted the young man's competence or courage; she just didn't like the notion of having to depend on any man other than her husband for anything.

The screeching came closer. Not harpies, she decided, but perhaps something related. Then, in the gloom, three shapes appeared--hooded, cloaked old women, crying to one another in raucous, whining, ill-tempered tones.

”If I didn't know better,” Xavier murmured grimly, ”I'd swear that was my mother Xanthippe. But she's yellow, and there's only one of her.”

The last of the light showed their faces. ”They're real dogs,” Grundy said.