Harpy Thyme

  The sun had dried itself off and recovered enough strength to climb the eastern sky. Gloha had never been quite certain how it managed to find its way to the east after drowning in the water to the west, but assumed that there was some kind of magic to handle it, because the sun's course was fairly reliable. The clouds, which had gotten somewhat damp and drippy in the night, were drying off and turning white and fluffy again. There was no sign of Fracto, fortunately.

  She passed the region of the flies, and the dragons, and the elves, until she spied Goblin Mountain. Or was it? She hadn't been there in months, and what she saw below was distinctly odd. "Odds goblins," she murmured. Instead of a structure resembling an enormous anthill with the pox, she saw a prettily tiered network of gardens with flowers. That couldn't be it.

  Then she remembered: the male goblins no longer governed Goblin Mountain. A female was in charge. So flower gardens made sense.

  Reassured, she dropped down toward it. As she got close, she saw more detail. The flowers grew in patches of color, and the color spelled P-E-A-C-E. That was Gwenny's work, all right.

  She landed by a prettily manicured front gate. There was a goblin guard, neatly uniformed. He snapped to attention as she approached. "A courteous greeting, Lady Gloha," he said politely. "Whom do you wish to see?"

  Gloha was taken aback. What was the matter with this goblin? He should have greeted her with an insult or a threat, or at least a sexist innuendo. That was the way male goblins were. It was expected. She didn't trust this.

  Then the goblin flashed a surreptitious scowl. "Don't look so surprised, wingback. This isn't my idea. At least I got half a look up under your sexy little skirt as you came down."

  Gloha smiled as she smoothed down her skirt. So this was just a veneer over normalcy. Goblin nature had not been repealed. "I want to see Goldy."

  "Very good." He turned to his talk-tube. "Gloha to see Goldy, presently." Then he turned to Gloha. "Get your galoshes going, goody-gams."

  Gloha nodded, appreciating the goblin-style compliment. She walked on into the tunnel. Soon she found Aunt Goldy's apartment. She knocked on the portal.

  It opened. There stood the gobliness, even ancienter than Glory because she was ten years older. But she looked better than she had, probably because she now had more status than before. All females did. "Why, how nice to see you, dear," she said, giving Gloha a hug. "Do come in."

  The apartment was nicely finished, with flowers and pleasant pictures all around. Gloha sat gracefully on a cushion, resting her gams, uh, limbs, and especially her wings. "I went to see the Good Magician about a husband, and he told me to see his second son. But I don't know who that is. Mother thought you might know."

  Aunt Goldy pondered. "I remember when I traveled with the ogre-his girl Tandy-there was something about her. I never did quite figure it out. But maybe the ogre did. Maybe you should go ask him."

  "Ask the ogre? You know ogres and goblins don't get along well."

  "This one's different. He's half human. He's a decent creature, and not nearly as ugly or stupid as he should be. He figured out how to work the magic wand, after all, then gave it to me so I could win a goblin chief. He has a way with these things. Talk to him, and maybe he'll help you find that second son."

  Gloha shook her bemused little brain. "This is pretty farfetched. Are you sure you aren't getting senile?"

  "Not at all sure, dear," Goldy said cheerfully. "Maybe you should ask someone else." But she did seem oddly sure of herself. She surely knew or suspected something, but wasn't about to say exactly what it was lest she seem truly foolish.

  At least Gloha could check with the ogre. Then maybe she could find Lacuna and ask her. Someone, somewhere, was bound to know. "What's the name of this ogre?"

  "Smash. He's Esk's father, I believe."

  "Oh, Esk! I know of him. Esk Ogre. He married Bria Brassie, and they have three children."

  "They do? I knew only of one."

  "The stork brought them two more, I think. Twins."

  "How curious. There seems to have been a rash of twins recently. Maybe the storks are up to something."

  "Maybe it's a conspiracy," Gloha said, smiling. "An Adult Conspiracy."

  "That must be it," her aunt agreed.

  Before she left, Gloha went to see her cousin-once-removed Gwenny, who at sixteen was more like a straight cousin. She was the chiefess of Goblin Mountain, but perhaps would have half a moment to spare.

  Gwenny was at a meeting, negotiating a treaty with the naga folk, but her Companion Che Centaur came out to see Gloha. He was a winged monster too, and they were friends. They hugged each other. He was only eight years old, but already he was substantially larger than Gloha, because he was of a larger species. He was also more intelligent, because that was the nature of centaurs.

  “I’ll tell Gwenny you were here," he said. "I know she would want to see you, but this treaty is so important that she just can't break away. The goblins and naga have long been enemies, and now they will be friends, or at least allies. The details are critical. Prince Naldo Naga is attending, though he'd rather be playing water games with his buxom wife Mela Merwoman, so you can appreciate how important it is."

  "Yes, of course." There it was again: married folk having fun. Mela had a daughter two years older than Gloha, yet Mela had no trouble finding her man. "But it's nice to see you, too."

  "I understand you are looking for the Good Magician's second son."

  "Yes. But I don't know who he is. Do you know?"

  "No, but I'm sure the Muse of History would know."

  "I don't want to struggle with Mount Parnassus to see her! Aunt Goldy thinks Smash Ogre may know something."

  Che cocked his head. "That is possible. At worst, he won't know anything, and then you can ask the Muse."

  Gloha thanked him and went her way. Each person had a different idea whom she should ask. Maybe one of those people really would know. Yet once she found the second son, she would still be at the mere beginning of her quest, because the Good Magician hadn't said that his second son had the Answer. Who knew what convolutions remained? She really wasn't very pleased with Humfrey's offhand dismissal of her Question. Who cared about all the other folk whose Good Magician Answers had turned out, in retrospect, to be good? She didn't even have his Answer, just a stupid referral.

  She emerged from the mountain and took off before the goblin guard could make any more smart-faced remarks. But she couldn't stop him from getting another peek under her skirt before she got out of range. She really did have to change her outfit, the moment she got home. But first she would see the ogre, because his home in the jungle was closer than the harpy hutch.

  She flew south, crossing the Gap Chasm again. She saw a dark cloud, and quickly flew lower before it could see her, in case it should be Fracto. Then she spied the ogre's twisted-ironwood-tree house and descended.

  A really ancient woman of fifty or so met her at the door. This was Tandy, the ogre's wife.

  "No, Smash is out searching for stones from which to squeeze juice for stone soup," Tandy reported. "He's half ogre, you know, and every so often he likes to exercise his ogre nature. You may have noticed how all small dragons have vacated the area for now. But perhaps I can help you with your concern."

  "I'm looking for the Good Magician's second son. Do you know who that is?"

  "No, but I know someone who might be able to point him out. That's my father Crombie. That's his talent: to point to anything.!”

  Gloha considered. "That might do it. But isn't your father pretty old, considering how aged you are?"

  Tandy smiled in a way that reminded Gloha oddly of Aunt Goldy, who was of that general generation. "Exceedingly old. I think he recently had his ninety-first birthday. But he was once a major character in Xanth; and old characters never die, they just fade away. We just have to talk to him before he fades too far."

  "That makes sense," Gloha agreed. "Do you know where he is now?"

  "Oh, yes. He
lives down in the underworld with my mother Jewel the Nymph."

  "She must be horribly old too."

  "Yes and no. Nymphs are ageless, really, remaining young and sexy forever or until they turn mortal. Jewel turned mortal when she married Crombie and sent off to the stork for me. So if we figure she was an apparent age of twenty then, she would be an apparent age of seventy now. That's probably manageable."

  "I suppose so," Gloha agreed doubtfully. "But I'm not sure I could find my way through the underworld."

  "Unfortunately I'm only half nymph; I look my age. But I'm still spry enough to show you the way to my father's home."

  "Oh, wonderful!" Gloha exclaimed with guileless little glee, clapping her happy little hands.

  "First we have to get to Lake Ogre-Chobee," Tandy said, scribbling a note. "The entrance to the underworld is there. Fortunately that's not too far from here. I can't fly, of course, so it will be slow, but we'll get there."

  Gloha hoped it wouldn't be too slow. She did want to get there before the five months it would take to check with Humfrey's other wives was done. But of course she didn't say that, because it might upset Tandy and make her even slower.

  Tandy pinned the note to a chair. Gloha saw that it said "SMASH-visiting folks-back soon. TANDY." Then Tandy went out to her kitchen garden, where she dug out a plant.

  "Oh-to eat along the way?" Gloha asked.

  "No, this is a light bulb, to make my poor old body light. In my youth I rode a night mare, but I am beyond that now." Tandy tucked the bulb into a pocket, and indeed, she did seem to step lighter now.

  "I don't suppose you also grow heavy bulbs," Gloha said.

  "Oh, yes, I do. But Smash uses them, when he's feeling light-headed; they bring more gravity to his thoughts."

  They set off through the jungle. Gloha was concerned about encountering land monsters here who might try to eat them, but then saw that Tandy's shirt said OGRE'S WIFE across the back. That probably protected her from most creatures. Who among them would care to risk the wrath of an ogre?

  The light bulb did seem to make Tandy faster on her feet; she was quite spritely. She fairly bounded along, while Gloha flew low. They followed a path marked by saplings twisted into pretzel knots and boulders cracked open by powerful blows. An ogre path, obviously.

  Then they heard something. It was a weird sort of squishy noise smelling of fresh mud. It seemed to be moving on a course that would intercept their path somewhere ahead. "What is that?" Gloha asked nervously.

  "I'm sure I don't know," Tandy replied. "Let's go see."

  Gloha had an opposite notion, but did not want to be negative, so she agreed. They hurried forward toward the place the noise would soon be. In a moment Gloha was flying ahead, outdistancing Tandy.

  It turned out to be a mud slide. Rich brown mud was coursing through the forest. The only problem was that there was no slope from which it was sliding. It was moving along the level ground, or even uphill.

  The mud slewed to a stop. "Ho!" someone called from beyond.

  Gloha flew up to see who it was. There to her special amazement was an old, old man sitting on a huge dinner plate set on the mud. Behind him was a prettily decorated cabin with little white curtains in the windows.

  Gloha hovered before the man, perplexed. He looked vaguely familiar. "Hello," she said with a timid little tremor. "Did you call?"

  "Why, hello, winsome little winged goblin girl; you must be Gloha," he said. "Yes, I called; I thought you might be able to help us. I'm King Emeritus Trent." Then, perhaps assuming that she wouldn't recognize the name: "Ivy's grandfather."

  "Oh!" Gloha said with a squeamish little squeak. "I thought you had faded away."

  "Not quite," Trent said. "We four grandparents are going to visit Esk's grandparents for a fade-out party. But we seem to have lost our way."

  "You four? Where are the others?"

  Trent turned his face back. "Hey, Sorceress, lift the veil," he called. "We have a visitor: Gloha Goblin-Harpy."

  Immediately the cabin vanished. There sat three other old folk on plates: two women and a man.

  "Uh, hello," Gloha said again with a certain awed little awkwardness.

  "My wife the Sorceress Iris," Trent said. One of the old women became a beautiful young woman with a shining silver crown and button-bursting bodice. Except that it was laced, not buttoned, so she was a lace-lashing lady.

  "So nice to meet you, Gloha," the sorceress said dulcetly, with a grand nod of her head.

  "My friend Bink, Ivy's other grandfather," Trent said. The other old man became a handsome medium-young man in halfway casual clothing. He nodded.

  "And last and least, his wife Chameleon, in her stupid phase," Trent concluded.

  The other woman did not change. Gloha saw now that she was old but amazingly lovely; she needed no magical enhancement, despite being in ordinary garb. For now Gloha remembered from her history lessons that the Sorceress Iris' talent was illusion; she could make anyone or anything look any way she wanted. But Chameleon didn't seem to need illusion. Gloha hadn't believed that anyone that old could look that good.

  "We hope you can help us, Gloha," Chameleon said. "We seem to have lost our way."

  That was so obvious that it needed no restatement Then Gloha remembered the thing about Chameleon: she changed with the moon, becoming beautiful and stupid, then ugly and smart. So she couldn't be counted on to speak intelligently.

  Something Trent had said registered. "You're going to see Esk's grandparents? Why, so are we! I'm with Tandy, who knows the way."

  "What a fortunate coincidence," Queen Iris said. She sent a curiously significant side glance at Bink. "You and Tandy must join us and show us the route."

  "Oh, I'm sure we'll be glad to," Gloha agreed. "Let me go tell Tandy!" She darted away before belatedly realizing that this might be impolite. After all, if she remembered her history lessons correctly, all of them had been kings of Xanth at one time or another. But it was too late to correct her lamentable little lapse, so she just flew on.

  In a moment she found Tandy, who had continued walking. "There are four-they want to-same place we're going-it's a coincidence," she said breathlessly or perhaps witlessly.

  Tandy questioned her on the several pieces of her statement, and managed to fathom the general little gist. "That is a coincidence," she agreed. "For such a party to get lost right where we were going-there must be magic involved."

  "Oh, yes, the Sorceress Iris is spreading illusion all around," Gloha agreed.

  They reached the mud slide. The cabin was back on top of it, hiding the three, but King Trent remained in his handsome younger form. "And to what do we owe the honor of your presence here in the wilderness?" he inquired of Tandy.

  "Gloha is looking for the Good Magician's second son, and I thought my father Crombie might point out the direction," Tandy replied.

  "Oh, Humfrey is involved in this," Trent said, as if that had great significance. "Well, if you will show us the route, we shall give you a ride on Swiftmud here." He indicated the bank of mud on which his plate sat.

  "I would rather ride than walk," Tandy agreed. "And perhaps Gloha would rather ride than fly. We shall be happy to make the deal."

  So Trent set out two more plates, and Tandy managed to scramble up to one without getting too muddy, while Gloha flew to the other. Then the cabin expanded to enclose them all including Trent, and they were in what looked like a luxurious palace chamber.

  "But don't stray from your plate," Chameleon cautioned with a smile.

  Gloha extended a cautious finger to the cushioned floor beside her, and felt mud. Everything was illusion except the mud and the plate. But it was pleasant in this seeming cabin. "If I may ask-" she started.

  "We are not quite as young as we once were," Trent said. "So now we prefer to travel in comfort. I transformed a mud grub into Swiftmud, and Iris provided plates from her kitchen. This seems to be an adequate mode of travel. Except that Swiftmud is not particularly bright, a
nd strayed from the assigned route when we weren't watching, and now we aren't entirely sure where we are. But we suspected that there would be a fortunate coincidence, and now it has occurred. Show us the way, Tandy, and we shall slide there forthwith."

  Tandy looked around. "I think I'll need to be outside for that."

  Abruptly the cabin wall contracted, and Trent and Tandy were outside, while Gloha remained inside. In a moment Swiftmud started to move again, sliding smoothly and probably swiftly along. Yes-Gloha saw trees whizzing by outside the curtained porthole. They were on their way.

  "Have some anthony and tell us your story," Iris suggested, extending a smaller plate on which several brushes and combs were piled.

  "Anthony?" Gloha asked blankly.

  "Ant-honey," Iris said more carefully. "Honey from ants. Sometimes in my age I slur out the hyphen. Some like it better than bee-honey or sea-honey."

  "Thank you." Gloha took a honey comb from the plate and took a naughty little nibble. It was very good.

  The others took honey brushes and chewed on them. Then Gloha explained about her quest to find a good winged goblin man for a husband, and the frustration of her visit to the Good Magician's castle.

  "Yes, Humfrey is like that, now more than ever," Iris said, licking spilled honey off her fingers. "Age hasn't sweetened him."

  "But he always has reason," Bink said. "I remember when he said he couldn't fathom my talent."

  "What is your talent?" Gloha asked. "I mean, I know you're a Magician, because my centaur history book said so, but I don't think it said what your talent is."

  "Well, that's an odd thing," Bink replied. "I think I have a notion of its nature, but every time I try to tell someone about it, somehow I don't."

  "I don't understand," Gloha said.

  Iris and Chameleon smiled and looked away.

  Bink sighed. "I suppose I could make a demonstration." He took a breath. "My talent is-"

  The Swiftmud lurched to a halt, almost pitching them from their plates onto the icky surface of itself.