Part 28 (2/2)
It grew. Oh, how it grew! The brambles become enormous and twice as tangly as before, and the vines threaded themselves into new layers of complexity. They twined up around the dragon, using it as support for their compet.i.tive rising toward the sun. In moments the dragon looked like a boulder clothed in vines.
The reptile didn't like this. It thrashed its powerful tail, snapping vines as if they were so many cotton threads. It steamed, making the green leaves wilt. It whomped forward, flattening multiple layers into one layer. The vegetation was no match for it.
”That's one tough dragon!” Irene murmured.
”The toughest,” Chem agreed, struggling to stay out of steam range. She was panting, expending a lot of energy to move up the difficult slope, and so was the Gorgon. ”I was (puff!) present when Smash the Ogre (puff!) fought it in the Gap Chasm nine years ago. (Puff!) It was an even contest.”
”An ogre is stronger than a dragon, weight for weight,” Irene said.
”In most cases,” Chem agreed noncommittally.
The dragon made another whomp. Now it was within steaming range. It pumped up its body, making ready to issue the definitive blast.
”I've got it!” Grundy cried. ”A dragnet seed!”
Irene s.n.a.t.c.hed the seed as adeptly as any harpy might have. ”Grow!” she ordered it, flinging it at the reptile.
The seed sprouted in midair. It developed into a broad net whose material glinted in the light like steel. This was no ordinary plant!
The net settled neatly over the dragon and dug its fringe roots into the ground on all sides. Irene had never seen a plant like this before; evidently there were some excellent seeds in the batch from the Tree of Seeds!
The dragon whomped forward, trying to brush the annoying net out of the way--and was thrown back by it. No strands broke. This was one plant the monster could not overpower by brute force.
Furious, the dragon reached out with a leg or two and clawed at the net. Still it didn't give. The dragon blasted out white-hot steam--but the net did not wilt or melt. The dragon chomped on the dragnet with its teeth, but the vines held.
”I think we've got it,” Grundy said.
”Well, talk to it!” Irene snapped. This had been entirely too near a thing.
Grundy tried. He made a small roaring noise, which the dragon ignored. They would have to wait for the monster to settle down.
They waited, glad for the chance to rest, and slowly the dragon's efforts abated. Soon it would listen to Grundy.
”Odd,” the golem remarked innocently. ”I didn't hear you thank me for locating the key seed, the dragnet.”
Irene stifled further ire at his prodding. ”Thank you so deliciously much!” she snapped. But of course Grundy's part in this had been essential; she did have to give credit where it was due, even to the most obnoxious person.
”I do so appreciate your gracious--” Grundy began, then paused, listening.
Zzapp!
Chem stiffened. ”What was that?”
”What was what, silly filly?” Grundy asked, though obviously he had heard it, too.
”Probably my imagination,” the centaur decided. ”For an instant I thought--a historical phenomenon my father Chester told me about--”
”Who cares about history?” Grundy demanded. ”We have a dragon to tame!”
”I'm not sure,” the Gorgon said. ”My memory remains vague in certain areas, but I remember Humfrey once describing a really bad threat--”
Zzapp!
Now the dragon froze, its ears perking up. ”Say--that dragon has two ears!” Grundy exclaimed. ”So it does!” Chem agreed. ”That can't be the Gap Dragon! Smash the Ogre smashed off one of its ears; we used that ear to tune in on danger--”
”There are two Gap Dragons?” Irene asked, perplexed. ”I'll ask,” the golem said. He made another small, steamy roar.
Now the dragon roared back.
Astonished, Grundy translated. ”She's not our dragon.”
”She?” Irene asked.
Grundy exchanged more roars. ”She's the female of the species. She comes every so often to mate with the Gap Dragon, using a secret entrance to the Gap he doesn't know about.”
”So she supposes!” Chem put in. ”Once the forget-spell started breaking up, he remembered that exit, and the trouble started.”
”This time, when she arrived, he was gone. So she set out in search for him. She can wind him from afar--but he's elusive.”
”No wonder!” Chem said. ”He's rejuvenated! Tell her that.”
”No cure for the Fountain of Youth, then...” the Gorgon said sadly. ”If this had been the restored Gap Dragon--”
Grundy told the lady Gap Dragon. She reacted with reptilian horror. b.a.l.l.s of steam drifted from her ears. ”She wants to know how we expect her to mate with a baby,” Grundy remarked with a smirk.
”I wish I knew!” the Gorgon said.
Zzapp!
Again the dragon reacted. Grundy inquired--and his little face sagged with horror. ”She's heard that sound before! She says it's a wiggle!”
”A wiggle!” Chem said. ”My dread has been realized. The worst possible threat to Xanth!”
”Yes, now I remember,” the Gorgon agreed. ”This is terrible!”
Irene was perplexed. ”I think I've heard the term, but I don't really know anything about it. What's so bad about a wiggle?”
Zzapp!
Chem spotted two chunks of wood in the brush on the slope, picked them up, and stalked the sound while she talked. ”The wiggles are tiny spiral worms that swarm periodically. Sometimes a century pa.s.ses without an infestation; sometimes only a few decades. The last swarming was just about thirty years ago; my great uncle Herman the Hermit supervised the effort of containment, and lost his life in the process. It was hoped that the wiggle scourge had been permanently eradicated, but it seems not. Now we shall have to do the job over--and immediately.”
”But all I heard was a little zap!” Irene said. ”What's wrong with that?”
”That was the sound of the wiggle moving,” the centaur explained. ”It hovers in place for perhaps a minute--it's variable, or perhaps each individual worm has its own typical frequency--then zips forward in a straight line, a variable distance, but not far at a time. It--”
Zzapp!
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