Currant Events (18 page)

 It was late in the day, but they didn't
wait; they forged back up the steep path, determined to get clear of the demon
region. Darkness came, filling in the chasm below them, creeping up behind as
if to catch them and draw them back. They were tired, but they hurried.

 They reached the brink as night closed
about them. They were safe, or at least out. It would have been better to get
farther away, but Clio was dead tired. “I must rest,” she said.

 “We all must rest,” Sherlock
said. “The dragons were battered too.”

 “Yet it is dangerous to remain
here. There are many predators of the night.”

 “I'll put reverse wood around us
in a circle.”

 Then Clio saw the blue arrow changing
direction. The clock arrow was nearing its mark. She glanced at Sherlock, and
saw Getaway sitting on his shoulder. So the golem wasn't influencing it. So why
was it shifting?

 “I wonder-could the compass be
directing us to a safe harbor, as it were? Because we need it?”

 “Whatever that is would have to be
close,” Sherlock said. “Both fatigue and darkness prevent anything
more.”

 “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.

 “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.”