Ogre, Ogre

  "He isn't dead," the lieutenant said, relieved. That widened his selection of options. "But still she must be punished. We shall isolate her on an island."

  Isolation? That didn't seem too bad. Nevertheless, Smash didn't trust it. "Me scratch," he said, scratching his head stupidly. "Where catch?"

  The goblin studied him, evidently assessing Smash's depth of stupidity. "The island sinks," he said. "You may rescue her if you choose. But there are unpleasant things in the bog."

  Smash knew that. He didn't want to see Tandy put on a sinking island in that bog. Yet he did not have his full strength, and hunger was diminishing him further, and that meant he could not afford to indulge in combat with the goblins at this time. In addition, his Eye Queue reminded him snidely, Tandy had attacked the goblin chief, and so made herself liable to the goblins' judgment. The goblins, if not exactly right, were also not exactly wrong.

  The goblin lieutenant seemed to understand the struggle going on in the ogre's mind. Goblins and ogres differed from one another in size and intelligence, but were similar in personality. Both sides preferred to avoid the mayhem that would result if they fought. "We will give you a fair chance to rescue her."

  "Me dance," Smash said ironically, tapping the ground with one foot, so that the terrain shuddered. "What chance?"

  "A magic wand." The lieutenant signaled, and a goblin brought an elegant black wand.

  "Me no fond of magic wand," Smash said dubiously. He continued to use the ogre rhymes, having concluded that stupidity, or the appearance of it, might be a net asset.

  "All you have to do is figure out how to use it," the goblin said. "Then you can draw on its magic to help the girl. We don't know its secret, but do know it is magic. We will help you figure it out, if you wish."

  That was a considerable risk! He had to figure out the operative mechanism of a wand that had so baffled the goblins that they were willing to help him use it to defeat their decree of punishment. They would have spent days, months, or years on it; he might have minutes. What chance would a smart man have, let alone a stupid ogre? What person of even ordinary intelligence would agree to such a deal?

  Why would the goblins risk such a device in the hands of a stranger, anyway? Suppose he did figure out the operation of the wand by some blind luck? He could be twice as dangerous to them as he already was.

  Ah, but there was the answer. An ogre was stupid, almost by definition. He could be far more readily conned out of his advantage than could a smart person. Also, the activated wand might be dangerous, acting against the user. Of course they would help him solve its secret; if it destroyed the user, no loss! Only an absolutely, idiotically, calamitously stupid or desperate creature would take that risk.

  John sidled up to Smash. "Goblins are cunning wretches," she whispered. "We fairies have had some dealings with them, I think they mistreated Goldy deliberately, to get you into this picklement."

  "I'm sure of it," Goldy agreed. A bruise was showing on her cheek, but she seemed otherwise all right. "My own tribe is that way. My father threatened to eat you all, when he doesn't even like ogre or centaur meat, just to force you to take me here."

  "It does seem to be an effective ploy," Smash whispered back. "But we would have taken you anyway, had we known you."

  If brass girls could blush copper, goblin girls blushed tan. "You mean you folk like me?"

  "Certainly we do!" Tandy agreed. "And you helped us cross the lava plates, leading the way. And you told us a tremendous lot about the hypnogourds, so that Smash knows how to save his soul."

  "Well, goblins aren't too popular with other creatures," Goldy said, wiping an eye.

  "Nor with their own kind, it seems," Tandy said.

  "Because the chief hit me? Think nothing of it. Goblin men are just a little bit like ogres in that respect. It makes them think they run things."

  "Ogres aren't too popular with other creatures, either," Smash said. "They beat up their wenches, too."

  "This lesson in comparative romance is fascinating," John said. "Still, we're in trouble."

  "Pick Tandy up and run out of here," Goldy advised. "That's the only way to deal with our kind."

  But Smash knew that the other girls would pay the penalty for that. He had fallen into the goblins' trap; he would have to climb out of it. His one advantage was that he was, thanks to the curse of the Eye Queue, considerably smarter than the goblins thought. "Me try to spy," he told the lieutenant

  "Very well, ogre," the lieutenant said smugly. "Take the wand, experiment with it, while we place her on the island."

  Goblins grabbed Tandy and hustled her into a small wooden boat. She struggled, but they moved her along anyway. She sent a betrayed look back at Smash, evidently feeling with part of her mind that he should fight, and he felt like a betrayer indeed. But he had the welfare of the entire party in mind, so he had to act with un-ogrish deliberation. This grated, but had to be. If the wand didn't work, he would charge through the bog and rescue her, regardless of the fins. Even if the fins proved to be too much for him, he should be able to toss her to the safe bank before going under.

  They dumped her on an islet that seemed to be mostly reeds. As her weight settled on it, the structure hissed and bubbled from below, and slowly lowered toward the liquid muck surface. A purple fin cruised in and circled the pneumatically descending isle.

  Smash concentrated on the wand while goblins and girls watched silently. He waved it in a circle, bobbed it up and down, poked it at imaginary balloons in the air, and shook it. Nothing happened. "Go, schmoe!" he ordered it, but it ignored even that command. He bent it between his hands; it flexed, then sprang back into shape. It was supple and well made, but evinced no magic property. Meanwhile, Tandy's isle continued to sink. The purple fin cruised in tighter circles. Tandy stood in the spongy center, terrified.

  But he couldn't watch her. He had to concentrate on the Wand. It was evident that his random motions weren't being successful. What was the key?

  Eye Queue, find the clue! he thought emphatically. It was high time he got some use from this curse when it really counted.

  The Queue went to work. It considered mental riddles a challenge. It even enjoyed thinking.

  Assume the wand was activated by motion, because that was the nature of wands. They were made to wave about. Assume that trial-and-error motion wouldn't do the trick, because the goblins would have tried everything. Assume that the key was nevertheless simple, so that the wand could be readily used in an emergency. What motion was both simple and subtle?

  A signature-key, he decided. A particular motion no one would guess, perhaps attuned to a particular person. But how could he guess its nature?

  Tandy's isle was almost down to muck level, and the circling fin was almost within her reach, or vice versa. Smash could not afford to ponder much longer!

  "Goblin man, help if can," Smash called. After all, the goblins wanted to know the secret, too.

  "All we know, ogre, is that it worked for the crone we stole it from," the lieutenant replied. "She would point it at a person or thing, and the object would levitate. That is, rise." The goblin thought Smash would not know the meaning of the more complicated term. "But when we tried it--nothing."

  Levitation. That would certainly help Tandy! But he needed to get it started in a hurry. "Crone so smart, how she start?"

  "She looped it in a series of loops," the goblin said. "But when we made the same loops, nothing happened."

  Tandy's feet were now disappearing into the muck. Only the submerged mass of the isle balked the fin--for now. "Give poop. What loop?" Smash demanded. "Like this." The goblin described a partial circle with a tuck in it.

  "That looks like a G," John remarked. Apparently fairies were literate, too.

  G. A letter of the human alphabet? Suddenly Smash's intellect pounced. What was a signature except a series of letters? A written name? John's own case illustrated the importance of a name; her entire mission was simply to locate her correct
one. One could not choose just any name, because only the right one had power. This should apply for wands as well as for fairies, here in Xanth. Maybe it was different inside the gourd, where names could be changed at will. "What name of dame?"

  "Grungy Grool," the goblin answered. "She was a witch."

  A witch with the initials G G. Suppose the wand tuned in to the signature of its holder? Smash described a big, careful S.

  Nothing happened. Holding his disappointment in check, he described a matching 0. Smash Ogre--his initials.

  Still nothing. The wand remained quiescent in his hamhand. What now?

  Tandy screamed. Her isle was giving way, and she was toppling into the muck.

  Smash aimed the wand like an arrow, ready to hurl it at the fin.

  Tandy's fall stopped midway. She hung suspended at an angle above the bog, right where Smash was pointing.

  "The wand is working!" John cried, amazed and gratified.

  Slowly Smash tilted the wand up. Tandy floated, remaining in its power. Of course the activated wand had not moved in his hand before; that wasn't the way it worked. Be had to move it--to make some other object respond.

  "I'm flying!" Tandy cried.

  "He made it work!" the goblin lieutenant exclaimed.

  Smash guided Tandy carefully to land and set her down. Her feet were muddy and she was panting with reaction, but she was otherwise unharmed. He knew a spunky little girl like her would rebound quickly.

  The goblin lieutenant rushed up. "Give me that wand, ogre!"

  "Don't do it!" John cried.

  But Smash, ever the stupid ogre, blithely handed over the wand. "It is goblin property," he murmured, forgetting to rhyme.

  The goblin snatched the wand, pointed it at Smash, and lifted it. Smash did not rise into the air. The wand was not attuned to the goblin. It remained useless to anyone else, exactly as it had been when taken from its witch-owner. Smash had suspected this would be the case.

  "But you made it work!" the goblin protested angrily.

  "And you tried to turn it against him!" Goldy cried. "Do you call that goblin honor?"

  "Well, he's just a stupid ogre," the goblin muttered. "What does he know?"

  "I'll tell you what he knows!" Goldy flashed. "He's a lot smarter than--"

  "Me smart, at heart," Smash said, interrupting her.

  Goldy paused, then exchanged a glance of understanding with him. "Smarter than the average ogre," she concluded.

  The goblin lieutenant formed a crafty expression, too subtle for the average ogre to fathom. "Very well, ogre. Teach her how to work the wand, if it's not a fluke." He gave the wand to Goldy.

  So the goblins figured to get the secret from her. Smash understood perfectly. But he smiled vacuously. "Happily, me teach she."

  "Me?" Goldy asked, surprised. "Smash, you don't really want to--"

  Smash put his huge mitt on her hand. "You have a mind of your own, chiefs daughter," he murmured. "Use it." Gently he moved her hand, making the wand ascribe the letters G G, her initials. Then he stepped back.

  "I don't understand," Goldy said, gesturing with the wand.

  Three goblins sailed into the air as the moving wand pointed at them.

  "She's got it!" the goblin lieutenant exclaimed. "Good enough! Give it here, girl!" He advanced on her.

  Goldy pointed the wand at him and lifted it. He rose up to treetop height. "Give what where, dolt?" she inquired sweetly.

  The lieutenant scrambled with hands and feet, but merely made gestures in the air. "Get me down, wretch!" he screamed.

  She waved the wand carelessly, causing him to careen in a high circle. "Do what, who?"

  "You'll pay for this, you bi--" The goblin broke off as he was pitched, upside down, just clear of the bog. A blue fin cut across and began circling under his nose.

  "Smash," Goldy said sweetly, "why don't you and your friends have a good meal while I try to get the hang of this wand? I might need some advice, to prevent me from accidentally hurting someone." And the goblin lieutenant spun crazily, just missing a tree.

  "Feed them! Feed them!" the goblin cried. "This crazy sl--young lady goblin will be the death of me!"

  "I might, at that, if I don't learn to manage this thing better," Goldy agreed innocently. The wand quivered in her hand, and the goblin did a bone-rattling shake in the air, almost dropping to within reach of the slavering blue fin.

  The goblins hastily brought out food. Smash stuffed himself in excellent ogre fashion on strawberry-flavored cavern mushrooms and curdled sea-cow milk while the goblin girl experimented with the wand, lifting first one goblin, then another.

  "Let someone else try it!" a goblin suggested craftily. Goldy glanced at Smash, who nodded. Then she handed the wand to the first taker.

  The wand went dead again. Several goblins tried it, without result. It occurred to Smash that if one of them should have the initials G G, as was hardly beyond the reach of coincidence, the wand might work--but that never happened. Probably it was not only the key, but the particular person signing it. Another G G goblin would have to make his own G G signature. That was a pretty sophisticated instrument!

  "Give me that," Goldy said, taking it back. It still worked for her. Once the wand was keyed to a particular person, it stayed that way. Since the goblins were illiterate, they never would catch on to the mechanism, most likely.

  The meal concluded. Smash rubbed his belly and let out a resounding belch that blew the leaves off the nearest bush.

  "Well, I can't say it hasn't been fun," Goldy said, offering the wand back to Smash.

  Smash refused it, wordlessly.

  "You mean I can keep it?" she asked, amazed.

  "Keep it," the Siren said. "I think you will have no trouble getting a suitable husband here now. Probably a chief. Whatever you choose."

  Goldy considered, contemplating the wand. "There is that. Power is a language we goblins understand somewhat too well." She faced Smash again. "Ogre, I don't know what to say. No goblin would have done this for you."

  "He's no ordinary ogre," Tandy said, giving Smash's arm a squeeze. "Keep the wand. Use it well."

  "I will," Goldy agreed, and there seemed to be an ungoblinish tear in her eye. "If any of you folk ever have need of goblin assistance--"

  "Just in getting out of here," Chem said. "Any information on the geography to the north would be appreciated."

  Goldy gestured toward the lieutenant with the wand. "Information?"

  Hastily the goblins acquainted Chem with what they knew of the reaches to the north, which wasn't much.

  Well fed, the party set out as dusk fell, following the bog to the river, and the river until it petered out. They camped near the firewall, snacking on some leftover mushroom tidbits Goldy had arranged to have packed. They would have to cross the Region of Fire again to get where they were going, as the goblins had assured them that it went right up to the land of the griffins, which beasts were hostile to travelers.

  "That was a generous thing you did, Smash," the Siren said. "You could so readily have kept the wand, especially after they tried to trick you out of it and use it against you."

  "Goldy had better use for it," Smash said. "Why should an ogre crave more power?"

  "One thing I don't understand," John said. "You say you were victimized by the Eye Queue vine. That makes you smarter than an ordinary ogre, whose skull is filled with bone."

  "Correct," Smash agreed uncomfortably.

  "But that does not account for your generosity, does it? You have let the rest of us impose on you, and you did something really nice for Goldy, and I don't think another ogre would, not even a smart one. Goblins are like ogres, only smaller and smarter, and they don't do anything for anybody."

  Smash scratched his head. Still no fleas. "Maybe I got confused."

  "Maybe so," the fairy replied thoughtfully. Tandy and Chem and the Siren nodded, smiling with that certain female knowingness that was so annoying.

  Chapter 11


  Heat Wave

  Smash's Eye Queue would not leave well enough alone; that was its most annoying trait. He greeted the next morning with doubts. "How do we know the griffins are unfriendly?" he asked. "Can we trust the information of the goblins? We do know the fire is dangerous, on the other hand."

  "We certainly do!" John agreed. "My wings will never grow back if I keep singeing them! But griffins are pretty violent creatures and they do eat people."

  "Let's travel near the firewall," the Siren suggested. "That way we can cross over and risk the fire if the griffins turn out to be too ferocious."

  They did that. But soon the bog closed in, squeezing them against the firewall. The colored fins paced them eagerly.

  Chem halted. "I think we have to make a decision," she said as she updated her map-image.

  "I'll check the other side," Smash said, setting down the Siren. He stepped across the firewall.

  He was at the edge of the fumaroles, amidst fresh ashes. Not far north the forest fire continued to rage. There was no safe passage here!

  He saw a shape in the ashes. Curious, he uncovered it. It was the burned-out remnant of a large tree trunk, still smoldering. The fall of ashes had smothered it before it finished its own burning. Smash wondered when a tree of this size ever had a chance to grow here. Maybe it had fallen across the firewall from the other side.

  Then he had a notion. He put his gloved hamhands on the charred log and heaved it back through the firewall. Then he stepped through himself. "A boat," he announced. "A boat!" Tandy exclaimed, delighted. "Of course!" They went to work with a will, scraping out ashes and burned-out fragments and splinters. Then they launched the dugout craft in the muck. Smash ripped out a sapling to use as a pole so he could shove their boat forward. He remembered traveling similarly with Prince Dor. But this was more challenging, because now he had responsibility for the party.

  The colored fins crowded in as the craft slid through the bog. At length Smash became annoyed, and used the tip of his pole to poke at the nearest fin. There was a chomp, and the pole abruptly shortened.