Part 18 (1/2)
Irene finally got her fingers on the tongue. It was slimy and slippery, but she yanked it out. The thing flapped about in her hand, but could not get free.
”What you got there?” Xavier inquired, glancing at her.
”What's it to you, you son of a witch?” the devil's tongue demanded. Irene hastily threw it away. It landed in an elephant bush, which trumpeted angrily. ”Oh, go pack in your trunk!” the tongue said.
Now Grundy looked at her. ”Hey, you've fixed up your hair!”
Irene touched her hair again. The tongue had distracted her, but now these other three plants were the main concern. She identified each by touch: a centipede plant, a fiery love flower, and a bird's-nest fern.
The Python hissed and slid forward, tired of waiting for this party to get moving. The half-grown dragon tree snapped at it. Her hair would have to wait a little longer!
Xap reared and charged, eager for the fray.
Irene grabbed another seed--this one for a s...o...b..ll plant. ”Grow!” she told it, and tossed it into the Python's opening mouth. The reptile, naturally enough, swallowed the sprouting seed.
For an instant nothing happened; the plant was still growing. Then the huge serpent became cold. A segment of its body turned blue. The mouth opened again, and freezing fog came out. Icicles formed on the upper teeth.
The dragon tree pounced on the frigid snake, but found only ice. It would be a while before the creature thawed. Xap and Chem trotted past, unmolested. One hazard was out of the way!
But already the next hazard manifested. The maenads, who, it seemed, were still pursuing the Python, swarmed up the path. Blood was in their eyes and on their claws; probably some of it was their own, for several were limping. But they remained as vicious as ever.
Irene fished for a suitable seed. She had an African violent that she wouldn't have used on any man, but these wild women were another matter. She grabbed it and threw it forward. ”Grow!”
” The seed sprouted in air, sending out green-backed foliage and silvery stalks. Gold disks fruited, gleaming in the sunlight. Brightly s.h.i.+ning stones appeared, decorating the vines.
The maenads shrieked and pounced on the fruit. They plucked the golden coins and hurled them at the oncoming party. They tossed the greenbacks in the air.
”What kind of plant is that?” Grundy asked.
Irene looked more closely and groaned. She had thrown, the wrong seed! ”That's a treasure vine!”
”These creatures of Parna.s.sus sure like money,” the golem remarked. ”Look at them play with it.”
Indeed, the wild women were throwing the bills and coins around as if they were splas.h.i.+ng water. They formed piles of money and reveled in them. They fought over particular bills with big figures printed on them; it seemed women were partial to that kind. But those who had not ama.s.sed enough of a fortune were turning again toward the visiting party, their predatory eyes glinting. Irene knew there was nothing quite so dangerous as a hungry wild woman.
She got her fingers on the correct seed and threw it. ”Grow, violent!” she cried.
The plant obeyed with alacrity. Purple clubs appeared, smas.h.i.+ng at anything in reach. ”Ow!” a wild woman screamed as a club clobbered her toe. She danced away on one foot. ”Oof!” another cried as another club whomped her bottom. ”Hooo!” a third screeched, sailing into the air, and a club sprouted right underneath her.
”You sure fight mean!” Xavier said admiringly as they skirted the melee and went on down the mountain.
”And you thought women were gentle,” Grundy reminded him snidely.
Xavier looked nonplused. ”Well, the centaur filly here is--”
Xap made a squawk of negation tinged with humor, and Chem blushed. It seemed there were some aspects of centaur private life that were sensitive. Startled, Xavier s.h.i.+fted his statement. ”A mighty healthy one,” he concluded. With that both hippogryph and centaur were satisfied.
Irene nodded to herself. That must have been some night exploration those two mixbreeds had!
Xavier brightened. ”Zora!” he exclaimed. ”She's gentle! She don't have a violent bone in her body!”
”All her bones are rotten,” Grundy agreed. ”It's easy to be gentle when you're dead.”
”Undead,” Irene said, coming to Zora's defense. ”That's not the same.” It occurred to her that even Zora had not seemed gentle when she faced down the Furies and drove them away. But that was not an issue she cared to argue; she owed too much to the zombie. ”I agree; Zora is a nice girl.”
”If you like that type,” Grundy muttered. ”She sure helped us,” Xavier said. ”Right now she's carrying the bad seeds for us! If she had any doubt, dissension, or war in her, she'd be a zombie tigress by now!”
”Yes, that's right,” the golem agreed, glancing across at Zora. Irene glanced, too, to see how the zombie was taking this discussion. Zora seemed blissfully unconcerned; in fact, she even looked healthier. Her flesh now seemed more soiled than decayed, all the features of her face were in place, and her hair swung as if recently cleaned and brushed, with only a few patches missing.
”But some zombies are violent,” Chem remarked. ”During the War of the NextWave, the zombies fought like maniacs.” She seemed happy to have the subject be Zora instead of herself. ”So it must be Zora who is peaceful. Even the Furies remarked on it. She must have been awfully nice when she lived.”
It hadn't actually been peacefulness that the Furies had remarked on, Irene remembered, but Zora's loyalty to her parents. Chem was only going by what Irene and the others had talked about, since she herself hadn't been there at the time; it was a minor misunderstanding. ”And the heel who caused her to suicide must have been an unutterable slob,” Irene concluded with some feeling.
”She suicided?” Xavier asked, surprised.
”Heartbreak,” Irene told him. ”Her true love was false.”
Xavier scowled. ”You know, I never zapped a living man. I guess that's one I would. A man's got no business making no commitment he don't keep, ever.”
Again, Irene was impressed with the young man's crudely expressed values. She herself had absolutely no romantic interest in him, but she could appreciate that if she had, that interest would not be misplaced. Xavier was true to his values, and they were decent ones. No woman would commit suicide because of him.
Zora, riding behind him, still said nothing. Irene realized with another surge of shame that all of them continued to treat the zombie like an unfeeling thing. What almost made it worse was that none of them did it intentionally; it just was very easy to treat a zombie like a zombie, a thing.
”I wonder what misfortunes she's cursed with,” Xavier said after a moment. ”The Furies' curses, which she saved us from?”
”Either they haven't affected her any more than the three bad seeds do,” Irene said, ”or they haven't occurred yet. We've had some close calls, but nothing's happened to her.”
”It's really too bad about those curses,” Xavier said. ”I should have taken my own, like a man.”
Irene found she could neither agree nor argue with that, so she let it pa.s.s without comment. After all, she also had been spared the curse of misfortune because of Zora's intercession. It was possible that a misfortune that would kill Irene would have little or no effect on Zora--but it was also possible that it would be equally devastating for human or zombie. She simply didn't know, so didn't know how to feel. She owed so much to Zora and had no idea how she could ever repay it.
Once it had been possible to restore a zombie to life, but only two people had known the formula for the necessary elixir--the Zombie Master and the Good Magician. The Zombie Master had forgotten it in the course of his own eight hundred years as a zombie; the information had probably been in one of the portions of his brain that got sloughed away. The Good Magician was now hopeless. So there was no such reward possible for Zora--and if there had been, she would not have wanted it, since she had no reason to live. Irene tried to imagine a greater tragedy than that, but could not. Why was it that sometimes the best people suffered the worst fates? Was there no inherent justice in Xanth, despite all its magic?
They reached the base of the mountain and crossed the rolling creekbed. This time Irene took the precaution of growing an action plant, which sent its roots throughout the bed and caused all the loose stones to vibrate and roll. Any snakes or other dangerous or annoying creatures would depart in haste! Crossing was now no problem; all they had to do was set their feet where nothing was active, because the action plant guaranteed that anything that could move was already doing so.
Now they were in a more normal region of Xanth and moved rapidly. Irene was glad to leave Parna.s.sus behind; it was no place for civilized mortal creatures, except perhaps at the top. Xap remained on the ground, running beside Chem. It was evident that the hippogryph's squawked comment about ungentle centaurs had been a compliment, not an insult. He liked her very well.
In gratifyingly short order, they were back where they had made camp last night. It was now late in the day, but they didn't want to sleep in this particular spot. They had hardly pa.s.sed it before they heard the screaming of the three Furies.
”We sure don't need this again!” Xavier said grimly. ”They were right about me and Maw--I'll give the old crones that!--but I'll take care of it my own way without no other lesson.”
Irene agreed, remembering her own guilt about her mother.
”I'm not sure the Furies are strictly fair about their charges,” she said. ”Or their curses. If so--I mean, if they're more interested in cursing and hurting people than in improving their behavior--then they are to some extent hypocrites. It happens I have a seed that should stop them.” She located it and held it ready. ”Just charge on by when you see them.”
The three Furies appeared. Irene nudged Chem with her knee, and the centaur swerved toward the dog-faced trio.
”Ho, you vile equine!” Tisi cried, spreading her wing-cloak threateningly. ”Does your dam Cherie know what you have been doing with--”
Irene threw down the seed. ”Grow!” she cried. The seed sprouted before the three hags. ”What's this?” Alec cried, alarmed.