Part 26 (1/2)
”Don't worry,” Glory said. ”They'll fling a party like none you've seen.”
”That may be what I'm afraid of.” Yet this was bound to be better than war!
”Move it, human woman!” Gorbage exclaimed. ”Grow some real party plants!”
”And make some music,” Haggy screeched. ”You can't match the mouth organ, but--”
Irene fished for a seed and planted it. ”Grow!” she told it. The thing sprouted into a cactus with ridges up the sides and needles in every ridge. It branched into a number of shoots, some large, some small. When the plant reached sufficient size, it began to tootle.
”What is that?” Grundy asked.
”An organ-pipe cactus.”
The notes deepened and richened as it continued to grow, until at last they were full, rich, organ sounds.
”We'll need dancing slippers,” Glory said. ”And hairbrushes, to pretty up.”
Irene grew a moccasin flower, a hairbrush cactus, and, for good measure, a necklace plant so people could dress up.
”And refreshments!” Haggy screeched. Irene grew a pickleweed.
”And perfume,” the Gorgon murmured.
Irene wrinkled her nose, agreeing. Already the air was close with the fetor of the harpies, and the goblins were none too clean themselves. Irene grew several sweetly scented flowers, including some drops, which were really varieties of rose by other names, smelling as sweet.
”And everyone should sign the register,” Hardy said. ”But we don't have a--”
Irene grew an autograph tree. It had places for everyone to sign.
”And some party stuff,” Grundy said, getting into the spirit of it.
Irene delved for some more seeds, and grew a fiesta flower, a rainbow fern, a good-luck plant, a silver-ball plant, a pearl plant, a live-forever plant, a love-charm plant, and a bag flower for the refuse of the party. Now the enclosure seemed appropriately festive, and the scent of the perfume plants was almost overpowering, enabling her to ignore the aroma of the harpies.
”Move it! Move it!” Gorbage cried, clapping his hands. ”Start the bas.h.!.+”
Hardy and Glory went to the center of the enclosure, where the surface of the water table remained clear except for a layer of carpet gra.s.s. The organ-pipe cactus blasted out louder music, and they began to dance. Hardy hovered in midair, his wings s.h.i.+ning, while Glory whirled before him, again showing her pretty legs. Irene felt more than a tinge of jealousy; once she had had legs like that!
The two came together, wings and skirt swirling like sections of the same apparel, then flung apart, then came together again in a joint swing. Then they separated completely, going to the walls of the enclosure where the spectators were. Glory skipped across to reach out her hands to her father, bringing him grumblingly onto the dance floor. She was lovely and he was ugly, yet somehow the affinity of lineage was apparent. He stomped and she pranced, their feet striking the carpet in unison, and the dance was good.
Hardy flew to the wall where Haggy perched. ”Move your tail, you abysmal old hen!” he cried. She launched into the air, sweeping a dirty talon at him, but he spun in place, and circled, making an orbit about her, and shoved her toward the center. She screeched an epithet that momentarily darkened the sun, but could not truly oppose the will of a male of her species. So she spun in air, joining the dance. As it turned out, she did know how; the two never touched the ground, but matched the beat of the music.
Irene smiled privately. It was evident that the bottom of the harpy male hierarchy ranked the top of the female hierarchy. Haggy screeched her protest, but she would have been affronted had Hardy chosen any lesser hen to haul in to the dance before her.
Irene had a bright notion. She delved for another seed, and found what she wanted. ”Grow!” she said, flipping it at the north wall, where the harpies perched. It was a fumigation bush, which would quietly clean any harpy in its vicinity. She found another and flipped it at the south wall.
There were now four on or near the floor, dancing to the music. Harpy faced harpy and goblin faced goblin, making patterns, and it was heartening in the way that any dance was. This was indeed becoming a festive occasion.
Then the two couples separated, each person going out to fetch in another. Gorbage went to the wall to insult another harpy into joining them; Glory brought in another goblin; Hardy got a new harpy hen; and Haggy flapped over to challenge a new goblin. The four on the dance floor became eight. It was a multiplication dance.
Soon the goblins and harpies were all in the dance, and several were questing for new partners. A goblin came to claim the Gorgon, who was startled but suffered herself to be drawn forward. ”But I can't see very well,” she protested faintly through the hood as she went.
”Who needs to see?” the goblin demanded, moving into the close ballroom embrace, his head coming up just about to her waist. ”You petrify me!”
A harpy came for Grundy. She simply s.n.a.t.c.hed the golem up and whirled with him in the air. Irene noticed that her feathers were now clean; the fumigation bush was working. All the old hens were looking better, now that their colors could be seen; they really weren't as old or ugly as they had seemed, though it would not have been fair to call them young or pretty.
Then Hardy himself canted for Chem. ”We crossbreeds must dance together!” he said. ”I want to thank you for making a marvelous case!”
Finally Gorbage came for Irene. He was half her height and scowling horrendously, but he was now clean and odorless and she could not refuse. The war had been convened to a party, and she wanted to keep it that way!
She whirled in the crowd, doing her version of the goblin stomp. Gorbage was a surprisingly good partner, for he had a sense of timing and motion. For an instant, she almost forgot that she was stuck in the jungle. ”Hey, you got legs like my daughter!” Gorbage remarked, and she was embarra.s.sed to find herself blus.h.i.+ng.
”Want to know something?” Gorbage asked as he stomped in perfect time to the music, completely undisturbed about the difference in their sizes. ”When I was dancing with one of those old hens, I did some high steps--and I swear my feet left the ground.”
”Shouldn't they?” Irene asked, half bemused by the innocence of the remark.
”I mean I was flying--a little,” he said. ”I stayed up for two, three beats, instead of coming down on one. When I touched her, I had magic.”
Irene paused. This was significant. ”Are you sure? It wasn't just an extra high jump?”
”Sure I'm sure, maybe. But I could only get a little way off the ground without losing my balance, and n.o.body else noticed. I'm an old goblin; it's too late for me to learn good magic. But I guess the horserear was right--we do have half talents. And harpies have the other halves.”
”That's amazing!” Irene said. This indicated that her private caveat about the significance of Hardy and Glory's match up was not well founded. The talents did not necessarily align, and if a goblin with half levitation encountered a harpy with half invisibility--well, she wasn't sure what would happen then, probably nothing. So at least to some extent, there were proper and improper match ups, and Hardy and Glory were a proper one. That was rea.s.suring.
”That's amazing!” Irene said again, remembering Gorbage. ”It's a whole new horizon for your two species--and a new insight into the nature of the magic of Xanth! All this time, goblins have been fighting harpies when they should have been cooperating, so as to discover and use their combined magic. Now that can change. Never before has--”
”Well, we'll see,” he said. ”I can't say I like harpies, but I do like magic, and especially power. You human folk have had it too good, too long, because of your magic talents. Maybe now you'll have some compet.i.tion.”
”Maybe we will,” Irene agreed, undismayed. This development had provided the warring factions the most powerful incentive to change their ways. Why try to kill a creature who might enable a person to develop a wonderful new magic talent? And if the goblins and harpies no longer warred, Xanth would be a safer place. Maybe both these species would become relatively civilized and would join the human and centaur folk as responsible societies.
Irene was really enjoying this wild dance now. Her dreadful initial vision, which had so appalled her at Castle Zombie, was being replaced by a vision of wonderful new things.
New shapes appeared above the enclosure. More harpies were arriving, attracted by the noise. Haggy flew up to screech the glad news at them. Her wings sparkled; now that she was clean and happy, she seemed to be a different creature.
”We'd better be on our way,” Irene murmured as the dance broke up. ”The day is getting on--”
They managed to make their partings and climbed over the wall. Haggy presented Chem with a whistle made from a hollow feather. ”Blow this if you ever need harpy help,” the old hen said.
Chem accepted it with due appreciation. Then they were on their way, leaving the celebration behind.
Chapter 14: Fire and Steam.
They had been traveling northeast toward Hugo's home before encountering Glory Goblin and veering east. Hugo did some intelligent mental calculation and concluded that they ought to proceed straight north now to intersect their former route. That was better than walking all the way back the way they had come.
They took it easy, pausing to rest and eat, so progress was not rapid. Even so. Ivy was getting tired by the middle of the day and was wondering whether it would be in order to suggest an afternoon nap period. She decided to wait until someone else thought of it.
They crested a low hill and entered a clearing--and were brought up short by a sudden ferocious hiss. Alarmed, they looked about them.