“Then some other route. I must get there first.”
There is a back way. But it’s dangerous.
“Who cares? Show me the way.”
You need to get beyond the station and come back to it without the dragon seeing you.
“Squawk.”
“You’ll carry me?” Kody said. “Good enough.”
“But not high in the air,” Yukay cautioned. “You must not be seen by any dragon.”
I will guide you along a low route. The station is atop a hill, and Zap can’t carry you there from any direction without being visible. But the back path will get you there without visibility.
“Good enough.” Kody went to Zap and found the lighter knot she carried. “Carry on,” he said to the others. “I will bring her back.”
He mounted her, catching hold of the heavy feathers of her mane. She bounded forward, spread her wings, and took off. She looped around to gain height, rose above the treetops to orient, then angled back down into a section of smaller trees so that she could fly below the level of the tops of the larger trees. She knew what she was doing.
“You warned me also,” Kody said as he rode. “But you weren’t close enough to block me from entering that pavilion trap.”
“Squawk,” she agreed.
“You joined us because you want to find out how to manage with the liability of having a soul. I don’t see it as a liability at all. You’ve been a fine Companion and a really useful assistant in times of need. Such as right now. I don’t know how I would manage without your help.”
“Squawk,” she said appreciatively.
“I’d be happy to have you with me after this Quest is done. But I won’t be here, regardless how it turns out. So all I can do is wish you good hunting and a good companion. There must be one somewhere.”
Zap didn’t answer. Maybe his wish for her was unrealistic. Another souled griffin?
We’ll look out for one, Naomi thought.
He had forgotten that the ghost was showing the way; she was invisible unless he looked for her. Now he saw that she was floating just ahead of them, stroking with her arms as if swimming, kicking her bare legs, displaying everything in motion. She was flashing him again!
“I think you could have seduced me if you’d really tried,” he murmured subvocally. “But you didn’t, did you, any more than you really tried to kill me.”
I want you to succeed in your Quest.
That was answer enough.
They circled the round hill and came down for a landing in a cozy glen. Kody dismounted and looked around. Ahead of him was the thickly forested base of the hill.
There is a path, Naomi thought. But it is hard to see, and dangerous. Also, it is single-use.
“Single use?”
When one person uses it, it is used up. No others can follow. The person who uses it can’t follow it back. It no longer exists, until the next day, when it re-forms.
“I never heard of a path like that.”
Fortunately ghosts don’t count as users, so I was able to explore it without destroying it. It begins here. She indicated a spot where no path was obvious.
Kody turned to Zap. “It seems I won’t be returning this way, regardless of the outcome. So you don’t need to wait for me. You might as well fly back to rejoin Yukay and Ivan.”
“Squawk.” But Zap did not move. Maybe she planned to wait awhile, just in case.
Kody stepped up to the forest where Naomi stood. There, beyond her, was a small vague path that wasn’t visible from any distance. He put a foot on it, and more became evident just ahead. So it was working.
He paused, turned, and looked back. There was nothing except dense forest. Not only was there no path, there was no place for a path. The trees and brush had closed in as if never disturbed. So in Xanth, a one-use path was exactly that, magically.
He looked forward, and the path was there, along with Naomi. Now you know.
“Now I know,” he agreed.
In Xanth, one-way routes are just that. She turned, presenting him with her bare bottom by no coincidence, and stepped forward. She seemed to be having more fun teasing him in death than she had in life.
The path climbed the slope, finding its tenuous way through the thick growth. Even going the right way, with his ghost guide, he had to look carefully to find it. That might be one reason it wasn’t used much.
He followed it through a patch of onions. Jangly music played as he passed them, startling him. Those are rap scallions, loud but harmless, Naomi thought.
He should have known that they wouldn’t be garden-variety plants.
Then he passed through a patch of melonlike plants that made an awful smell. Mel odious, the ghost explained.
“Thanks for letting me know,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose. He moved on.
Naomi paused. Here is a hazard. A nickelpede nest we can’t avoid.
“I can’t simply step around it?”
If you step off the path to the side, you won’t find it again.
That made unfortunate sense. So he would have to walk through the nest. Kody remembered the pun on centipede. A nickelpede might be five times as big. Apart from being spooky in the manner of a big insect, what was the problem with it? He didn’t remember.
Do not fool with them. Do not let them get on you. They will gouge out nickel-sized scoops of your flesh.
Oh. They were like biting ants or stinging scorpions. Kody conjured a reverse wood chip.
Now he saw the nest. It swarmed with big bugs. They had many legs and lobsterlike pincers. Certainly he did not want them swarming over him. He saw them lurking alertly, just waiting for him to give them a foot up.
There was no way around the nest. It filled the path, and the brush closed in tightly to either side. It was too broad for him to jump over. He had to put his foot in it. Who had made this path, the nickelpedes, to trap unwary hikers?
Kody hoped he had a nasty surprise for them.
He flipped the chip into the center of the nest. The bugs swarmed aggressively over it. And backed away, seeming confused, no longer aggressive.
Ha! The chip had reversed their nature, making them timid. Kody set his foot down beside it, and no nickelpede attacked. He dropped another chip ahead, and stepped there, and still the bugs hung back. A third step, and he was able to return to the debugged path. His talent had enabled him to pass unscathed.
Then he got a notion. It wasn’t enough to light a bulb over his head, but it would do. He dug out a handkerchief, formed it into a little bag, put a chip in it, then kneeled and reached into the nest. He picked up a passive nickelpede and put it in with the chip. Then he got another, and another, until he had the impromptu bag filled with half a dozen. The chip kept the vicious little creatures torpid. He tucked the bag into a pocket. “Never can tell when a nasty biting bug might be useful,” he explained to Naomi.
It will take more than nickelpedes to stop that dragon.
“Undoubtedly,” he agreed.
They continued up the hill, the path winding quietly around trees and rocks to find its own special route. It seemed to like shaded spots with moss. It had its own personality. Kody rather liked it, though he was wary of its tricks. But if it was for the nickelpedes, why did it continue beyond the nest?
Another hazard, Naomi thought. Tangle tree.
Kody looked. There was a big tree with the hanging green tentacles, the same kind they had shown him before. “Avoidable?” he asked.
No.
He saw that the path led right under the tree, right past its massive trunk. Unlike the other tree, this one was not in a glade, but in a tight crevice between boulders; there was no way to bypass it without going around the boulders, and they buttressed deep cracks in the ground in which sinister-looking vines lurked. The tangle tree had set up shop in the one route past the boulders. Or the path had been designed to benefit the tangler.
“I don’t suppose I can reason with it?”
Tanglers don’t re
ason much. They just grab and chomp.
Nevertheless, Kody decided to try. “Tangle Tree, I need to pass by you on my way to the top of the hill. I bear you no malice. Will you let me pass in peace?”
A ripple shook the tree. It was almost as if it were laughing.
“I don’t want to fight you, but if I have to, I do have weapons,” Kody said. “I ask again: will you let me pass?”
This time the tree shook so hard its dangling tentacles writhed.
“I will give you a small demonstration. Here is one of my weapons.” He conjured a chip and flipped it at the tree. It struck a tentacle and clung there. The tentacle became a normal wooden branch with brown bark and green leaves. It had been reversed from magic to mundane.
The branch rocked as if stung. It shook off the chip, shuddered, and slowly reverted to its tentacular nature. It did not look happy.
“Now will you be reasonable?” Kody asked.
Three tentacles lashed out, reaching for him. But Kody had taken care to stand just beyond their likely range. Their tips snapped like whips, making sharp reports.
I told you.
“Then so be it,” Kody said grimly. “This is war.” He really would have preferred to pass in peace, or to desert the path, but the thought of Zosi getting toasted and chomped by a dragon galvanized him to action. He could afford no more delay.
He conjured another chip and flipped it at the tree. But a tentacle picked up a bone from beneath the canopy and used it to bat the chip away. He flipped another, and again it was batted away. The tree was evidently a fast learner, and had figured out how to nullify the chips. The monsters of Xanth might be ravening, but they were not necessarily stupid.
Kody pondered briefly. Then he brought out his bag of nickelpedes. He loosened the tie and flipped the bag at the tree. The bone struck it, but the handkerchief merely unwound and wrapped around the implement, spilling its chip and the nickelpedes across several adjacent tentacles. The chip dropped to the ground, but the nickelpedes, freed from its influence, caught on to the tentacles. The bugs were in a bad mood. In a quarter moment they were clamping with their pincers, gouging out nickel-sized chunks of green.
Beautiful! I never thought of that.
There was a sound like wind whistling through bare branches. The tree felt that! The tentacles writhed, catching at bugs. But the nickelpedes intercepted incoming tentacles with their pincers, and gouged them too. Nickelpedes were like the tangler in one respect: they weren’t reasonable.
Now, while the tangler was distracted, Kody advanced, flipping chips as he went. They struck potentially dangerous tentacles and rendered them into harmless branches.
But the tree was not completely out of it. There were hundreds of tentacles, and more were orienting on him. He could not flip chips fast enough to nullify them all. One wrapped around his left arm, stopping the flipping and almost hauling him off his feet. The tree might have been distracted, but now it was focusing on the main threat, which was Kody. He was in trouble.
He drew his sword. At first it was the little knife. The tree evidently could see. It paused for a moment, shaking with mirth, contemptuous of such a little bark sticker. It whipped out another tentacle to catch Kody’s right arm.
Kody swung at the tentacle. The full length of the sword manifested. He lopped off the terminal two feet. Thick green ichor leaked out as the tree pulled back its injured member.
Then three more tentacles launched at him. Kody swung the sword in a vicious arc, severing them all. Then he moved forward, chopping as he went, severing all tentacles that came within reach.
He came to the thick trunk. There was the great gnarly mouth, stained with blood. It had several ragged barklike teeth. The tree normally caught its prey and fed it into that mouth to be chomped. Presumably digestion occurred underground, in the roots. Kody swung at the mouth and lopped off the upper teeth. Then he moved on, still swinging.
But the tree had had enough. No more tentacles reached for him. He emerged beyond it, unscathed. He paused.
“I did warn you,” he said. “Maybe next time a person tries to be reasonable, you will consider it.”
The tree merely shuddered and writhed. Had it learned its lesson? He might never know.
That was probably the only way, Naomi thought. Brute force is all they understand.
They moved on up the path. It came to the top of the hill and ended, its job done. “Thank you, path,” Kody said. He could have sworn that it wriggled with pleasure as it faded out. So it seemed it was not the lackey of nickelpedes or tangle trees; the monsters had merely colonized it for feeding convenience.
There was Zosi! She was chained to a boulder in the center of the knoll, her head hanging, her hair across her face in a disconsolate gray mass. Had she given up hope? “Zosi!”
Her head lifted. “Kody!” she cried gladly. “You came! And Naomi!”
I led him in.
He ran across to her. “Of course I came! How could I let you die? After you sacrificed yourself for me?”
She smiled bravely. “If I died, I’d revert to zombie. I wouldn’t taste very good to the dragon.”
Then he reached her. He kissed her repeatedly. “Oh, Zosi!”
“I love this passion,” she said. “But you are wasting time. Can you free me before the dragon comes?”
Kody took stock. She was manacled on wrists and ankles, and chained to eyelets embedded in the stone. Would the sword sever the chains? He feared that the attempt would only ruin the sword. It would be better to pry the manacles open. But that would take time.
There was a roar.
The dragon!
Kody whirled. There was the monster, charging up the hill, exhaling fire. It was unlikely to be any more reasonable than the tangle tree. Still, he had to try.
He walked several paces forward and took his stance in front of Zosi. “Dragon, let this woman be. Go away and let me free her. She is not for you.”
The dragon never paused. It continued its charge.
That courtly streak may be the death of you, Naomi thought loudly.
“Yes,” Zosi said. “But I love that in him.”
Kody drew his sword. “Last warning, dragon! Give over! Depart! Let this maiden be. Else I must smite you.”
This is not an educated dragon, Naomi warned. Not like the one you saved me from. You can’t reason with it.
The dragon paused only long enough to inhale hugely. That was mischief.
Kody hurled a chip at it. The chip struck its snoot just as it was starting to exhale. The emerging fire turned to ice, clogging the exit.
Beware! It’s going to blow!
There was a titter from Zosi. Bad as her situation was, she was still amused.
The fire backed up inside. The dragon swelled up like a balloon, its eyes turned bright red, and flames shot out of its ears. It was definitely not amused.
Then the chip fell aside, the clog dissolved, and the flame jetted out and into the ground, gouging a smoking hole. The dragon coughed, clearing its channel, then started to inhale again.
Kody flipped another chip. But this time the dragon aimed its snoot at the chip and shot out a small jet of fire that caught the chip in midair, toasted it, and sent the charred ash to the ground. This dragon might not be educated, but it was cunning.
I hate a smart dragon!
So did Kody. What was he to do now?
He flipped another chip. Then, as the dragon’s snoot whipped around to toast it, he flipped another, this one at its eyes. And a third, at its near ear.
The first chip got toasted, but the other two scored. The dragon’s eye became a potato, and its ear a corn stalk. Kody wasn’t sure of the precise nature of the reversals, but they did mess up the dragon. Potato eye? Ear of corn? Did the chips have a sense of humor?
Then the dragon breathed out a veritable wall of flame, surrounding itself in fire. No more chips could get through, and the creature’s sight and hearing were probably recovering. Move and counterm
ove, and the dragon was hardly intimidated, let alone defeated. More was required.
Kody charged, swinging the sword. He held up a chip and forged right through the firewall, making it turn to ice in his vicinity. Then he was beside the dragon. “Take that!” he cried, and clove it on the tail.
The sword sliced through the tail and cut it off. The severed part twisted on its own, like the tail of a snake, but he knew it was harmless. He whirled and went for the dragon’s head.
The dragon came to meet him, puffing out jets of fire. Kody held his chip out with his left hand as he dodged to the side. Ice coated his arm. Then the dragon’s head swung at his hand and knocked the chip away. The snoot aimed for him like the sooty muzzle of the flamethrower it was.
Kody put both hands on the hilt of his sword and smashed it down on that snoot. His grip was wrong, and he struck with the flat, possibly bruising but not cutting the dragon’s nose. The dragon shook the blade off and inhaled.
This time he dodged to the side, got the sword straight, and chopped as hard as he could at the dragon’s relatively thin neck. The sword cut through the scales and dug into the flesh below. Blood oozed out. The dragon recoiled, then opened his mouth wide and struck teeth first.
But Kody was already dodging again. He swung the sword like an ax, cutting at the same place as before. A scale flew out like a chip of wood, and more blood flowed.
The dragon’s head whipped around, jaws gaping, fire jetting. But Kody was moving again, getting clear of the trajectory. He chopped once more, at the same spot. This time the blade dug deep into the softer flesh of the interior. Blood spurted—and smoke came out.
He had cut through to the windpipe! Now the dragon tried to withdraw, but Kody did not trust that. He chopped once more, and opened the cut deeper. This time he must have severed a nerve, because the head abruptly dropped to the ground.
Kody chopped once more, and finally managed to sever the head completely. Smoke poured out of the neck, but the dragon was effectively dead.
You did it! You killed it!
So he had. Kody relaxed, his berserk fury fading. He had done what he had to do, but now it sickened him.
More dragons are coming!
Oh, no! He couldn’t go through that again. He had to free Zosi and get her out of here.