Part 20 (2/2)
”Conjure some fruit that will save us!”
”Oh. Yes.” He conjured a pineapple.
”No, dummy! That will spread the yellow all around! Some other way!”
Hugo did not seem to react with the same pleasure to the endearment as she had. ”But I can't--”
”Yes you can!” Ivy insisted.
The yellow was looming awfully. Hugo concentrated--and had an inspiration. A gourd-fruit appeared in his hands. ”Look at this, lutin!” he cried, shoving it at the floating eyeball.
The eye looked, involuntarily, for that was its nature--and saw the peephole, and froze where it was, in midair. The yellow mist dissipated harmlessly.
Hugo set the gourd down carefully, and the eye tilted its gaze to watch its descent.
”What is that?” Glory asked, perplexed.
”A hypnogourd,” Hugo said. ”It's a sort of fruit, so I can conjure it, but this is the first I ever got right. I aimed the peephole at the lutin.”
Glory laughed, relieved. ”Of course! We have whole patches of such gourds in Goblin-Land. I just didn't recognize it out of context. What a clever way to nullify the eye monster!”
”What's a hypnogourd?” Ivy asked. She was only three years old and had seen a great many plants, but for some reason, her mother had never grown one of the gourd plants for her, so her education was not yet quite complete.
”It's a gourd with a peephole,” Glory explained. ”I should have recognized it instantly. Anyone who peeks in the hole is hypnotized, until someone moves the gourd away or cuts off his line of sight. It's a good, fairly harmless way to restrain a violent creature, though it isn't wise to leave anyone hypnotized too long, if you don't want it to be permanent.”
”Let's get out of here before something happens to free the lutin,” Hugo said nervously. ”A leaf could fall and cover the peephole, or an animal could roll the gourd over. He'll be awful mad when he gets free.”
The others agreed. They had never before encountered such a bad temper as that shown by this magical creature. They hurried on, leaving the veined eye and the gourd behind.
”I thought each person had only one magic talent,” Ivy remarked thoughtfully.
”They do, dear,” Glory said. ”Goblins don't even have one such talent.”
”But that lutin could change shape and do magic--he was going to blind us.”
”That's right!” Hugo agreed. ”How could he do that?”
”Maybe he was bluffing about the blindness,” Glory said uncertainly.
”He sure didn't sound as if he were bluffing,” Hugo said.
”He might have had some kind of herb, or maybe some juice from a blindworm, to make us blind.”
”Anyway, I'm glad you stopped him, Hugo,” Glory said. ”That was most intelligent, and you have a very useful talent.”
Hugo flushed with guilty pleasure. He wasn't used to such compliments, especially from anyone as pretty as the goblin girl.
The organ notes became louder, until their booming was fairly deafening. There were many tones audible now, low ones and high ones, weaving in and out and around and through each other, forming a tapestry of sound. The effect was oddly moving, stirring subterranean emotions of pleasure, worry, and guilt. It was amazing what sheer sound could do.
”I wonder whether it knows how to play romantic music,” Glory murmured.
”Why?” Ivy asked.
”Never mind, dear; it was an idle thought.”
But there was something about the way she said it that gave Ivy the impression it wasn't entirely idle.
Stanley looked around again, sniffing, questing for something he couldn't quite pinpoint. ”Keep your mind on your business,” Ivy chided the dragon.
At last they came in sight of the mouth organ. This was a structure the size of a tree, made up of mouths. Tremendous, roomy, toothy, ugly, ogrish mouths blasted out the huge low notes, while smaller, animalish mouths issued the middle-sized central notes, and tiny, pursed, ladylike mouths shrilled forth the small highest notes.
A figure appeared in the sky. It was a harpy. It cried a command, and suddenly the mouth organ silenced, deafeningly. Ivy almost fell over; she had been bracing against the sound, and now there was none.
The harpy swooped toward them. It was male, with beautiful wings and the handsomest face Ivy had ever seen.
”Glory!” the harpy cried.
”Hardy!” the goblin girl cried joyously.
He flew down to her, wrapped his wings about her like the folds of a cloak, and kissed her. The two were of about the same ma.s.s, but differently structured. Yet it did not seem strange at all that they should be in love, for each seemed more attractive than the other.
After a moment, the harpy drew back and hovered in air, his wings flapping with easy power. ”Who are these?”
”These are my friends who helped me find you,” Glory explained. ”Ivy and Hugo and Stanley.”
Hardy Harpy squinted at them. ”They appear young.”
”We are,” Hugo said. ”That's the best way to be.”
”The dragon looks somehow familiar.”
”He's the baby Gap Dragon,” Glory explained quickly. ”But he's friendly now. He tuned in on the mouth organ notes so I could find you.”
”Must be all right, then,” Hardy said. ”I had noticed the Gap was oddly quiet recently. But why are you here. Glory? If I had known you were coming, I would have flown to meet you. As it was, I worried at your absence from the Gapside ledge; I feared you had fallen in, but I found no--” He broke off, not wanting to utter such a horror.
”I saw the Gap was empty, so I hurried across,” Glory explained. ”I was terrified. I didn't know the dragon had been youthened. It was my chance to get away from my father, before he made me marry some hideous and brutal k.n.o.bby-kneed goblin chief.”
”But you took such a risk, coming here!” Hardy protested. ”There are so many dangers--dragons, griffins, even a bad-tempered lutin--”
”We've met.”
”If anything had happened to you--”
”I just had to come,” Glory said. ”It was my only chance for happiness.”
”True,” the handsome harpy agreed. ”Come to my perch, not far distant, and bring your friends. I will reward them with some pretty trinkets I s.n.a.t.c.hed from a dragon's nest. Then, later, I'll tune the mouth organ to play something romantic--”
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