Currant Events

  "I'm not tired. I'll look," Getaway said.

  "We would appreciate that," Clio said.

  The golem set off in the direction the compass pointed. Almost immediately there was an angry screech. "Get away from me, you despicable thing!"

  "That sounds like an unfriendly girl," Sherlock said.

  "Which may mean she's normally friendly," Clio said. She saw that the compass's red arrow was now at the mark. This was it, whatever it was.

  "Hello!" Sherlock called into the darkness.

  "Who the bleep are you?" the voice demanded irritably.

  "Getaway, get away from her," Sherlock called.

  There was a pause, then a small girl appeared. "Oh! I don't know what came over me. I'm normally the friendliest elf of the Elm."

  An elf! That was why she was small; it was normal grown size for an elf. She wore a green tunic and was proportioned like an adult.

  "We are tired travelers, in need of a safe haven for the night," Clio called. "We have a golem made of reverse wood; that's why your nature suddenly reversed."

  "What a relief!" The elf approached. "I am Nissa. I live in the local Elf Elm, which is very close by."

  An elf elm! "Could we spend the night at its base?" Clio asked. "That should certainly be safe."

  "Why of course! We are always glad to have company."

  "Please show us the way." Clio tried to stand, but sank right back down. She was too tired to get to her feet.

  "Let me help you," Sherlock said. But he stumbled and had to clutch at a tree trunk. He was too tired too.

  "I'd better carry you," Nissa said.

  "But you can't possibly—" Then Clio remembered a quality of elves. The closer they were to their elms, the stronger they were. So maybe Nissa could. "Thank you."

  The elf put her little hands on Clio and heaved her up across her shoulders. At first the burden seemed to be too much for her but with every step she gained strength, and soon had no trouble at all.

  The trunk of the Elf Elm loomed, rising into the darkness. Nissa set Clio down and went back for Sherlock. "Don't get near the golem," Clio called weakly after her.

  "No danger of that," Getaway said from nearby.

  "That's good. You would nullify her nature and her strength."

  "I reverse everything. I'm not much good, unless there's a demon to beat up."

  "That's not true, Getaway. You have been nullifying threats all along on this journey."

  "Threats you wouldn't have faced if I hadn't reversed your compass."

  "True. Let's call it even on that score. You have been doing well in the matter of politeness, and it seems there is a time when it is expedient to be impolite."

  "It was fun insulting those demons."

  "It was indeed. If I ever encounter similar creatures, I hope you are on hand to protect me again."

  The golem hesitated. "Was that a compliment?"

  "Yes."

  "Well. I like it."

  "There are rewards for good behavior."

  "Maybe I'll stay polite even after I get what I want."

  She smiled. "No need to go to extremes." Then, seeing his confusion, she explained. "That is humor. Of course you should stay polite even if there is no obvious reward."

  "Does that really make sense?"

  "It does if you want to have friends."

  He was silent, digesting that difficult concept.

  Nissa returned, carrying Sherlock. Clio would have been amazed to see a seeming child carrying a man four times her height, had she not known the nature of elves.

  "Thank you," Clio said as Nissa laid the man down beneath the elm. "We shall surely be safe here."

  "Oh, I wasn't going to leave you out here," Nissa protested. "You must be my guests for the night."

  "Well, we are, in our fashion," Clio said. "You have brought us to a safe haven, and we shall surely be much recovered by morning. I think the elm has a beneficial effect, though we are not elves; I'm feeling better already."

  "It does," Nissa agreed. "It took us elves generations to become fully attuned to the benefits of the elms, so now we are dependent on them, but others get some strength and health too. Injured or sick animals come to rest beneath the elms, and they are helped. We have a rule: no fighting by the elm, so even natural enemies can sleep in peace here."

  "That's beautiful."

  "Now you must join me in my cubby, you and your cute little pet dragons. It's much more comfortable."

  "But we are too large," Clio protested. "We couldn't possibly share your chamber."

  "I have an accommodation spell."

  "Oh. In that case, thank you; it will surely be very nice."

  "What's an accommodation spell?" Getaway asked.

  "You'll see. Stay close so you are included."

  Nissa brought out something that wasn't quite visible. She gestured, and suddenly shrank to a quarter her former height. The tree trunk shrank too, to half its prior diameter. Or rather, they had grown to twice their former sizes. Now the golem stood as tall as the elf.

  "It reversed!" Sherlock exclaimed. "We forgot the reverse wood effect."

  That was true. "Oh, my," Clio said. "Getaway, I shall have to ask you to step out of the range of the spell. It is intended to equalize human and elf size, but went the wrong way."

  "I understand," Getaway said glumly. He walked away.

  The spell, freed of his influence, reverted to its normal effect. Now Nissa was their size, a seemingly normal human person. Or rather, they were her size; the tree trunk loomed four times as thick as it had a moment before. They were half their regular height, and the elf was twice hers, instead of half.

  "The golem," Nissa said, looking shaken. "I forgot."

  "So did we. It seems we must exclude him."

  "I'll get by," Getaway called.

  "Don't go away," Clio called back. "This is merely a complication, not a conclusion. I don't think anything can hurt you. We'll pick you up again in the morning."

  "Okay." The voice sounded wistful. That made Clio feel guilty, but she saw no other way to handle this.

  "Follow me," Nissa said. She approached the trunk, and now Clio saw that there was a winding set of steps spiraling up it. Perhaps the magic of the spell made them visible.

  They followed the elf up, several times around the tree, until they reached the tall foliage. It looked somewhat drooping, but that was probably an effect of the darkness. They entered its canopy, and came to a green bower whose walls were leaves and branches. It was quite pleasant.

  "We have plenty of room," Nissa said. "Make yourselves comfortable. I'll fetch something to eat."

  Clio started to protest, but reconsidered before the words got out. She was hungry, and surely Sherlock was too; they hadn't eaten anything since midday.

  Nissa brought a bowl of fresh fruits, and several milkweed pods. All of these seemed much larger than normal, but that was the effect of the accommodation spell. They were very good and filling.

  "I don't wish to pry into what may not be my business," Sherlock said as they ate, "but I am curious where the other elves are. Doesn't an elm normally have a full complement?"

  "Oh, you noticed," Nissa said. "I didn't want to bother you with our problems. It's not the courteous thing to do."

  So there was a problem. "We would like to know," Clio said. "Possibly we could help."

  "It's the dreaded malady, the Dusty Elm disease," she said sadly. "It spreads mysteriously from tree to tree, and we haven't found out how to stop it. It's slow, but in time it kills the tree. So the other elves have had to move to other elms, as this elm can no longer support them, and I am the last one left. Soon I'll have to go too, and I hate that, because I love this tree; it's my home. I'm so lonely!"

  It was coming clear why Nissa was so friendly. But was this problem relevant to the mission? Clio glanced at her compass. It pointed to the elf girl.

  "Do you have any notion of the actual agent of destruction?" Sherlock asked.

&n
bsp; "Very little. I've seen bugs chewing on the bark, and the tree wasn't sick before they came. But I don't see why a little chewing should make the whole tree ill."

  "I can," Clio said. "The bugs could carry something with them that causes far more damage than they do. I suspect we need to get rid of the bugs, and then deal with whatever it is they brought."

  "That would be nice," Nissa said wistfully.

  "Let me think about it. Maybe there's an answer."

  "Then there's Paul."

  "Who?" Clio asked.

  "The lumberjack."

  "The what?" Sherlock asked.

  "He's a giant with an ax and a big blue ox. He chops down trees and hauls them away. Now that this elm has lost most of its elves, Paul has his eye on it. I'm not formidable enough alone to stop him. It would require several elves, because he's so big and strong. He's going to come any day with his big ax and start chopping."

  "But who would chop down an elf elm?"

  "Paul would. Because it's a big tree." Nissa paused. "But I don't want to bore you with my troubles. Maybe if the tree can be cured, the other elves will return in time to stop Paul. Then it will be all right."

  Clio exchanged a glance with Sherlock. It was not all right. But at the moment the threat was distant, and they were not sure what they could do about it anyway.

  They talked about other things. Nissa was eager for news about the rest of Xanth, for she had never traveled far from her tree. She listened avidly as they described different features of Xanth, such as Castle Roogna and the Gap Chasm, and the dragons described Dragon World. "Oh, I wish I could see them myself! But I can't, because I would become too weak to exist, that far from my elm. The other elves had to travel from elm to elm, barely making it."

  That was a sad fate: wanting to see the sights, but unable to travel far.

  Finally they settled down to sleep. The dragons, assured that no one would be in any danger during the night, took over an old bird's nest near the dome of the chamber. Sherlock found a leafy alcove on one side, while Clio took another.

  "Oh, I thought you were a couple," Nissa said privately, embarrassed.

  "A couple of travelers," Clio said. "Actually five, counting the dragons and the golem. We'll all go our own ways in due course."

  "That's too bad."

  "Too bad?"

  "You all seem like such nice folk. Even the golem; he means well. He can't help being what he is. And the man is really nice, for a human. But I suppose you're too young for him."

  "I'm older than I look, and less lovely."

  "I don't understand."

  Clio removed her clothing, then her nymph bark, as it was more comfortable to sleep without it. "Underneath, I'm shapeless, as you can see."

  "That's why he's not interested?"

  "That's why he wouldn't be interested."

  "And I'll bet he thinks you wouldn't be interested in a middle-aged man."

  "That's not true!" But her protest lacked conviction. Age was immaterial to her, but it was quite possible that Sherlock did think that.

  "I'd be interested, if he were an elf."

  "Accommodation spells go only so far."

  "Actually they can enable a lot. Elves have used them to summon storks with humans. But long-term relationships don't work well."

  "I can appreciate that." Clio remembered how Bluebell Elf had done that with Jordan the human barbarian; she had written up that history, though it had happened before her time. Their descendant Rapunzel Elf had married Grundy Golem, and they had a daughter named Surprise.

  "Well, good night."

  "Good night."

  Nissa went to her own sleeping nook. But Clio's thoughts were disturbed, and not for the first time. She knew she should simply cross over and ask Sherlock whether curves mattered a lot to him. He noticed them, and freaked out at the sight of curvaceous panties, but every man did that; it was a reflex. He might be more sensible when considering an actual relationship, however temporary. She should ask—but somehow didn't dare.

  And why didn't he ask her whether age mattered? If he were interested, wouldn't he ask? Unless he suffered the same severe hesitation she did. It could be an awful irony, yet there it was.

  She sighed, and slept less well than she might have.

  In the morning Nissa had more fruit and milk. Then Sherlock spoke. "I have been pondering something."

  "Yes?" Clio asked, her pulse quickening.

  "The elm illness. Could it be reversed?"

  Why had she thought he had any other question on his mind? "How could it be reversed?"

  "With reverse wood. It might stop the bugs from eating the bark, and stop whatever else is going on, if it is by any chance magical."

  "Now that's an idea," she agreed. "Can we test it?"

  "We could try touching the bugs with chips of reverse wood."

  "You couldn't get at them," Nissa said. "They hide under the bark, and they're in crevices or way out on limbs you couldn't reach."

  "What about Getaway?" Clio asked. "He's small."

  Sherlock nodded. "I'll ask him."

  "But he can't enter the accommodation spell."

  "We'd have to clear out and let him investigate alone."

  It seemed good. "Let's do it."

  They went down the winding stair and reached the ground. Then Nissa terminated the accommodation spell, and suddenly they were back to human size and Nissa was elf size.

  "Getaway!" Sherlock called.

  "I am here, master."

  "We may have a job that only you can do. Can you check the elf elm for magic bugs or magic disease?"

  "But if I touch the tree, won't it reverse it?"

  "Only its magic aspects—and those are in trouble because of an illness. We wonder if it is possible for you to cure it, by reversing the malady."

  "I'll check." The golem walked to the big tree and touched its bark. Nothing happened. He walked around the base, stroking a little hand along it. "There's one." He put his whole hand flat against it. In a moment a beetle appeared, visibly disturbed, and flew away.

  "Its taste for elm bark must have become distaste," Sherlock said, smiling.

  "There's more," Getaway said. "Something magical and ugly. It's sort of spread out."

  "The disease!" Nissa said.

  "More like fungus," the golem decided. "It gets in there and sucks out the life of the wood. It's fading now, because I'm reversing it. But it would take a long time to clear it from this whole tree."

  Clio was excited. "But you could clear it?"

  "Oh, sure, if I had a month or two."

  "Maybe you should take that month."

  "And lose my reward for being polite for a month? Or are you planning to stay too?"

  "What reward do you want?" Nissa asked. "If it is in my power—oh, please please, save my elm if you possibly can!"

  "If you feel up to doing this," Clio said carefully, "Maybe we could return to see to your reward." She glanced at Sherlock.

  "And suppose you get tangled up somewhere, and don't make it back?"

  "Perhaps we can do better," Sherlock said. "If you will commit to curing this tree, I'll craft Knotty for you."

  "I'm working!" Getaway said eagerly, and practically hugged what he could of the huge trunk.

  "Knotty?" Clio asked.

  "She is to be made of naughty pine."

  "There's a naughty pine tree not far from here," Nissa said. "We don't go near it, because it is very indiscreet. Anyone who touches it says embarrassingly naughty things."

  "Excellent. But I must conjure this myself, as it must be reverse wood pine."

  "Reverse wood comes in different types?" Clio asked, surprised.

  "Yes." A knotty reddish piece of wood appeared in his hand. "I did not know this until now."

  "I think it was unknown until now."

  He began shaping the wood. Two knots became breasts, and a third the head.

  "That's amazing," Nissa said.

  "Well, I thought the
knots should form the important parts."

  "I mean the way you bend the wood around. And it's reverse wood?"

  Sherlock extended the forming figure toward a nearby common scents plant. When the wood touched, the plant transformed into a small crescent-shaped bug.

  "That's a luna-tick!" Nissa exclaimed. "It makes folk act crazy." Then she caught on. "From common scents to crazy. It was reversed."

  Sherlock continued molding the figure, then paused, unsatisfied. Clio could appreciate why: it was exaggerated and lopsided. "I need a model, to get the proportions right. Um, Clio—?"

  "I'd rather not," she said, conscious that her proportions weren't genuine.

  "I'll model, if I'll do," Nissa said.

  "Will she do?" Sherlock asked Getaway.

  The golem looked at the elf. "Well, she's not a demoness, but she'll do."

  "I certainly am not a demoness," Nissa agreed forcefully. "Why would anyone want exaggerated fake curves like that?"

  Clio tried not to wince.

  "Why, indeed," Sherlock agreed. He resumed his sculpting, looking closely at the elf girl. The proportions of the figure became less pronounced and more realistic. For Clio's taste she was becoming more attractive.

  Soon the figure was finished. It had reddish brown skin and long wild hair. In fact it resembled a maenad. "Is this satisfactory?" Sherlock asked Getaway, holding it forth.

  The golem considered. "Will she have clothing?"

  "If you wish."

  "I wish. As much as I have, anyway."

  Sherlock conjured another small chip and fashioned it into a panty. He put that carefully on the figure.

  "That's perfect! She doesn't need any more clothing." Clio might have differed, but it was the golem's choice. He clearly had typical male taste. He might be made of reverse wood, but his nature wasn't reversed.

  "I don't think Knotty is a nice name for a girl," Nissa said.

  She had a point. "She's for Getaway," Clio said. "How about Comealong? That's complementary."

  "I don't want her complimenting people," Getaway protested. "I want her wild, like me."

  "ComplEmentary," Clio clarified. "That means she is your counterpart; together you're perfect."

  "Perfect!" Getaway echoed, understanding.

  "Then here she is," Sherlock said. "But she'll have to be polite too." He set the figure down.