Part 23 (1/2)
The harpies hovered in air made foul by their presence. The stench was a.s.suming an awful intensity. ”You can defend yourselves?” the leader screeched. ”Prove it!”
”You wouldn't like that,” Chem said wamingly.
”You're bluffing!” the harpy screeched. No harpy seemed to have any voice other than the screech; too much of this conversation would give a person a headache.
”This woman is the Gorgon,” the centaur said evenly. ”One glance at her bare face will turn a person to stone.”
”I don't believe it!” the harpy screeched. ”Hatty, rip that rag off her face, then pluck out her eyeb.a.l.l.s!”
A harpy lunged forward, spraying out small, soiled feathers in her eagerness to get at the eyeball tidbits. Irene kept her eyes on the harpy, not the Gorgon, as did the others of her party. She was aware, peripherally, of the Gorgon making a slight motion.
Then the harpy, Hatty, stopped in midair and dropped like a stone. This was only natural; she had become a stone. The Gorgon replaced her veil.
The other harpies flew down to look at their fallen comrade. Hatty was now an ugly statue that looked as if it had been too long under pigeons. Her calcified eyes gazed out in blind contempt, and her thin-lipped mouth was fixed in a perpetual scowl. Even a small drool of dirty spittle had frozen to stone on her lip.
”She's petrified!” a harpy screeched.
”Completely stoned,” Grundy agreed. ”You dirty birds can't say we didn't warn you.”
”And who the s.m.u.t are you, runt?” the leader screeched.
”I'm Grundy the Golem,” Grundy said proudly. ”I can talk to any living thing, even your kind, you nauseating hen, though I have to hold my nose. Who the upchuck are you?”
”I'm Haggy Harpy, leader of this motley flock,” the harpy screeched. ”We're looking for goblins. Who are those others?”
Again, Irene was cautious about identifying herself completely. ”I'm Irene. I grow plants.”
”And I'm Chem,” the centaur said. ”I make maps.”
Haggy hovered, pondering, while her flapping wings wafted the smell of her past them. ”Stoning--talking--planting--mapping,” she screeched, totaling it up. ”A pretty collection of talents. You creatures are lucky; not everyone has magic.” She rotated to address the others. ”Hannah, execute plan SA,” she said. Then she spun in air back to Irene. ”What are you doing out here in harpy territory?”
”I'm looking for my lost child,” Irene said. ”A girl, three years old. Have you seen her?”
”Anybody seen her brat?” Haggy screeched to the other harpies, who were milling about in some private pattern that continually wafted their foul odor past the party on the ground. Irene hoped she could keep from gagging.
There was a discordant response. No one had seen any lost human child.
”SSAAA!” Hanna Harpy screeched. Suddenly the harpies Swooped in, acting together. Two carried a bag, which they dropped over the Gorgon's head before the Gorgon could get her hand back up to her veil. Others carried vine-cords, which they wrapped around the others. The action was so quick and treacherous that Chem did not have time to raise her bow.
”Grow!” Irene cried desperately at any plant in range. The gra.s.s under Chem's hooves shot up, and nearby trees put on new foliage, but there was nothing to interfere with the harpies. Naturally the confined seeds in the bag did not grow; that would have been a worse disaster than the harpies! In a moment all four of them were captive.
”Plan SA: Sneak Attack,” Grundy said disgustedly. ”I should have realized.”
Irene cursed herself for the same oversight. Goblins and harpies were creatures largely without honor; she knew that. It had been folly to relax.
”Why did you dirty birds do that?” Grundy demanded of the harpies. ”We did nothing to you, except for when Hatty forced the issue, and we had given you fair warning about that. You can fix her bad as new by carrying her statue out to Mundania, where the spell will be broken.”
”We don't care about Hatty!” Hannah screeched. ”Who cares about a harpy? We wanted you!”
”Because we can use your talents,” Haggy screeched, satisfied. ”Now we can track down those goblins faster!”
”But--but you can't just capture us and make us work for you!” Irene spluttered.
”Why can't we?” Haggy screeched reasonably.
”For one thing, we'll refuse to do your bidding,” Chem said, swis.h.i.+ng her tail in irritation.
”No bidding, you old biddy!” Grundy agreed.
”Oh, will you now?” the harpy chieftainess screeched. ”Well, then, we'll just tear your stonemason friend to pieces, one piece at a time. We're due for a meal anyway.” She turned in the air to face her subordinate hen. ”Hannah, old cackle, let's see how fast you can get the first arm off that creature. Don't go near her hood!”
Hannah screeched with delight. ”Hold her tight, hens! I don't want her thras.h.i.+ng about while I'm at work. That would spill too much tasty blood. Maybe I'll start with her gizzard; that's easier to claw out!”
The other hens converged on the hooded and bound Gorgon, sinking their filthy talons into her limbs, securing her for the ordeal. Irene knew they weren't bluffing; harpies really did like to tear flesh apart and cause anguish to feeling creatures.
”And fetch a basin,” Haggy screeched. ”So we can have a blood bath afterward!”
Irene's stomach tried to take flight like a harpy. No, they weren't bluffing! ”All right! We'll cooperate.” Irene said quickly. ”Don't hurt her!”
Haggy Harpy screeched out a mind-rotting string of epithets. ”Oh, you're spoiling our fun! Can't you wait until we've done with this one? She's a fine, healthy specimen and I just know she's got a lot of hot blood in her!”
”No, I can't wait!” Irene cried, in her desperation sounding almost like a harpy herself. ”Don't touch her!”
”Oh, all right, spoilsport!” Haggy screeched. ”I guess we can use her talent on the goblins as we planned. Hannah, you'll have to wait.”
”Go suck eggs!” Hannah screeched back. She had been hovering, waiting for the others to secure the victim properly, exposing the Gorgon's midriff for the gizzard operation. ”I want blood!” She launched herself at the Gorgon, talons extended, mouth gaping with l.u.s.t for gore.
”Don't tell me to suck eggs, you bloated bag!” Haggy screeched, launching herself after her. She moved very swiftly; harpies had had many generations of experience s.n.a.t.c.hing things, and could zip forward in the blink of a smudged eye.
The two collided in the air; Haggy lifted a claw and made such a swipe at the other that several greasy feathers were wrenched out of her tail a.s.sembly. Hannah spun out of control, sideswiped a tree, and landed on her back, her spindly chicken legs poking straight up. She screeched such an oath that the gra.s.s around her turned brown. Then she flipped over, and flapped up, leaving a smudge of discolor on the ground. She perched on a branch, shaking out loose feathers. Discipline had evidently been a.s.serted in the normal harpy fas.h.i.+on.
”Now, this is what you'll do,” Haggy screeched to Irene. ”You'll grow us some blood lilies and a pitcher plant of gall for us to snack on, and the horse's rear will show us a map so we can guess where the goblins are, and the imp--”
”I'm a golem, not an imp!” Grundy said.
”--will ask around for the goblins,” Haggy finished. ”And if we don't find them by nightfall, we'll tear Stonestare up instead. That seems fair enough, don't you agree? I'll bet those little snakes on her head are mighty tasty morsels!”
Irene didn't even ask whether the harpies would let the party go if they found the goblins. Harpies didn't make positive promises, only threats. ”You'll have to free my hands so I can sort through my seeds,” she said. ”I can't grow what you want if I don't have the seeds.”
”We'll do it,” Haggy screeched. ”But if you grow any wrong thing, your hooded friend will be gutted before you can do anything else, and we'll make you drink the first blood.”
”Unfair!” Hannah screeched. ”You promised me first blood!”
”Oh, all right. We'll give you the blood, and stuff the first entrails into the captives' mouths,” Haggy decided, being a fair-minded hen.
Horrified, Irene knew they had effectively prevented her from growing a tangle tree or anything else that would be useful against this awful flock. She opened the big bag of seeds and sifted through it, looking for the proper ones. She was in luck, for what that was worth; she found the items she needed. She dropped them to the ground. ”Grow!”
The blood lilies came up and formed deep red bulbs, while the pitcher plant developed pitchers filled with liquid that would kill flies. The harpies s.n.a.t.c.hed both eagerly and slurped them down messily. The dirty birds were even more repulsive when eating than when screeching.
While the hens were distracted, Irene consulted with Grundy. ”Do you think you can locate the goblin band? Our lives may depend on it.”