Dragon on a Pedestal (32 page)

The blood lilies came up and formed deep red bulbs, while the pitcher plant developed pitchers filled with liquid that would kill flies. The harpies snatched both eagerly and slurped them down messily. The dirty birds were even more repulsive when eating than when screeching.

While the hens were distracted, Irene consulted with Grundy. “Do you think you can locate the goblin band? Our lives may depend on it.”

“I’ll locate something,” the golem promised. “I can start by going toward the mouth organ; since it has seen them, I know they were in that region.”

“Good enough,” Irene said. “And if, somewhere along the way, you get a chance to lift the Gorgon’s hood—”

“You scheming females are all alike,” Grundy said.

Irene smiled cynically. “Some day you’ll encounter one your size, and she’ll make you happy to be schemed into captivity—if you live through this present crisis.”

“I can hardly wait.” But the golem was momentarily thoughtful.

Soon the harpies were through gobbling their food. “Now get on it, imp!” Haggy screeched. “Find those goblins!”

Grundy jumped to the ground and made a show of questioning the local plants. Naturally none of them had seen the goblins. “That way,” he announced, pointing in the direction of the mouth organ.

The harpies were so eager for blood and gore that they didn’t realize he was pointing toward their own public-address system. “Map! Map!” Haggy screeched.

Chem projected a map of the region. It didn’t have much detail, because the centaur hadn’t seen enough of the local terrain yet. But it did show sufficient gross accuracy to satisfy the harpies that it was valid.

The harpies had to free Chem’s feet so she could walk, but they left her arms bound, and one of them hovered near enough to attack her if she tried to bolt. They tied Irene’s hands again and had her ride the centaur. They kept the Gorgon walking separately, another harpy screeching directions at her so she could find her way despite the hood. Irene was both saddened and angered to see her friend stumbling blindly, her hands bound, but she could do nothing about it.

They proceeded slowly north, constantly harrassed by the harpies, who wanted them to do the job faster. Then Grundy got a break—he intersected the trail of the goblins. Thirteen goblins were traveling southwest. There was no harpy with them.

“That means they killed him, sure enough,” Haggy screeched. “We’ll tear out their hearts and stuff them up their—” The rest became unintelligible, which was just as well, for the leaves of the nearest trees were turning brown and curling up. Harpies did seem to have a certain flair for that sort of thing.

Hot on the trail, the harpies spread out and became silent. They knew their screeching would instantly alert the enemy and put the goblins on guard. One bird flew high above the trees, trying to spy the new prey, casting her baleful glare hither and yon. And soon she succeeded.

She swooped low. “Straight ahead, on an island in a water table,” she reported in a whispering shriek. “We can surround it. They think they’re safe there, but they can’t fly.”

Irene realized that this was a typical mistake; creatures who could not fly had little awareness of the threat from the air until it was upon them.

“We won’t take a chance,” Haggy decided. “Thirteen against thirteen—that’s too nearly even. We don’t want a fair fight, we want an easy slaughter. We’ll make Stoneface look at them.” They had it backward, Irene saw; they didn’t realize that it was not the Gorgon’s gaze that petrified people, but the sight of her full face. Irene was not about to correct their misimpression.

“But she’ll look at us, too,” another warned.

“That’s right. Better not risk it right now. We’ll bomb them instead. Get your eggs ready.”

How the harpies carried eggs, Irene wasn’t sure, but it seemed they had them somewhere. She also was not certain what good it would do to drop
eggs on the goblins, unless the intent was to blind the enemy with the splats of whites and yokes.

The harpies flew into the sky, trailing small swirls of greasy feathers. “Oh, Hannah,” Haggy screeched in an afterthought. “Now you can take care of these creatures here; they have become surplus.”

“Goody!” Hannah screeched back. She looped about and flew toward Irene’s party. She was slightly unsteady because of the recent loss of tail feathers but could maneuver well enough. Her hideous face gloated.

“Grundy!” Irene cried. But the golem was too far from the Gorgon to reach her before the harpy did.

Instead, it was Chem who leaped to the Gorgon’s rescue. Her hands were tied, but she tried to use her teeth, bending to take a grip on the hood.

But Hannah did not come in that close. She banked, spread her legs, and laid an egg in midair. “Die!” she screeched as the missile slanted down.

“Watch out!” Grundy cried at the same time. “I just remembered what those eggs do!”

Chem lurched away from the falling egg, pushing the Gorgon down. The egg struck the ground beside them and exploded. There was a dirty boom, and brush and turf were blasted out, leaving a small crater.

The eggs really were bombs! Irene realized that the harpies probably ate pineapples when forming a battle wing to get the explosive ingredients. They really were prepared for war!

Grundy, unhurt, skirted the crater and reached them. He climbed on the Gorgon’s bagged head, tugging at the cloth. But it was tied on, and the cord was too firmly knotted for him to budge. Meanwhile, the harpy circled. Did she have another egg?

“No wonder they don’t reproduce much!” Chem exclaimed. Grundy laughed. It would be hard to hatch a live harpy chick from an exploding egg!

But the peril wasn’t funny. “Grundy, get me a seed!” Irene cried.

“Hurry!”

The golem scrambled to her bag and fetched out a random handful of seeds. “Grow!” Irene ordered the handful.

The seeds sprouted immediately. Irene could, of course, grow plants with her hands tied behind her. But it was chancy starting a random sample. Those seeds could develop into anything, and the result might be harmless or negative.

A coral plant began to form coral on the golem’s hand, and he hastily dropped the seeds. A sugar palm sent out a hand formed of sugar. Ironwood speared up, points already coated with rust because of their proximity to the water table. A saucer plant presented its dishes. A hunter’s horn plant blew a loud note. Mistletoe nudged the earth with its toenail and fired off
its seedpod. And a split rock plant dug its roots into the nearest rock and split it into two sharp-edged fragments.

Grundy jumped down and lifted one of those fragments. He brought it to the Gorgon’s bound hands and started sawing.

But now Hannah Harpy was coming in again. Evidently she had another egg ready.

Chem projected a map. It showed a boulder where the people were, and people where a nearby boulder was. The harpy blinked, then corrected course and dropped her egg. It smacked into the boulder and broke it into a pile of rocks. Sand showered around them.

The Gorgon’s hands came free. She reached up to draw the hood from her head, but the tie was at the back and did not yield to her fumbling fingers.

“Use the stone to cut it!” Irene ordered.

The harpy had realized that something was wrong. Chem’s maps were good, but were not true illusions; a person could see reality through the maps when the proper effort was made. Hannah looped about, ready to lay another egg on them, and this one would not miss.

“Here she comes again!” Grundy said. “And that old hen has blood in her grotesque eye!”

Irene was horribly sure that was true. But there was one chance. “Gorgon! If you can see anything at all—throw that stone!”

The Gorgon scratched the sharp edge of the stone across her face, ripping the bag in front of her eyes. Now she could see out, vaguely. She hurled the stone at the swooping harpy.

Her aim was good. The stone struck—and the egg detonated. The harpy had not yet released it.

The explosion was muffled. Truly appalling hail pelted them, and the stench was beyond belief.

Irene wiped the gook out of her eyes and peered up. There was nothing left of Hannah Harpy but a foul cloud of smoke. It was dull gray, tinged with streaks of blood-red.

“Hey, the prisoners are making a break!” another harpy screeched.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” Irene said tersely.

Now there was a clamor on the water table. The remaining harpies had attacked the goblins, and great and awful was the sound and fury thereof.

The Gorgon left the scratched hood on her head, so she could see out without having her deadly face exposed, and hastened to work on Chem’s bonds. Soon the centaur was free. She took her bow and aimed an arrow at the sky; the first harpy who came close enough to lay an egg would be shot down.

Now the Gorgon came to Irene and undid her hands. Their party was ready to move, but Irene was uncertain. “The forest is too open; if we flee,
we’ll be vulnerable to attack from the rear. I don’t want any of those eggs coming at my rear! We’d better take cover until it’s safe.”

Chem agreed. They moved onto the water table, which was a raised, level plain formed of jellied water with a solid crust. It was a blue-green level surface, and it sank beneath their weight slightly, forming a slow ripple.

On the far side of the table stood the goblin band, armed with clubs and spears and stones and scowls. The harpies were dive-bombing them, but the rain of thrown stones was thick enough to keep them too far away to score. Geysers of water shot up where the eggs missed their marks. The crust of the table was firm and flexible, but the explosions gouged out holes that took a while to reseal.

Three harpies detached themselves from the main formation and zeroed in on Irene’s party. Irene plunged her hand into the seed bag and scattered the seeds she brought out. “Grow!”

The seeds sprouted in air and landed on the water table, where their roots delved down to find plenty of water for rapid growth. Leatherleaf ferns spread their leather across the plain. A gold-dust tree sent out a cloud of glittering gold dust. A foxglove swished its bushy tail and made hand signals with its glove. An amethyst plant grew purple crystals that sparkled in the sunshine. A balloon vine sent a cloud of colored balloons into the sky. A helmet flower produced several fine helmets in assorted sizes that Irene and the others harvested for immediate use in case an egg exploded nearby. A living fossil plant rattled its bones. And a water-ivy had a field day, spreading so quickly and thickly that it soon covered a sizable portion of the table. The vines and leaves became so big and piled on one another so thickly that they provided good cover for the party. The tabletop had become a thick jungle.

The goblins spied the jungle and charged toward it, recognizing the advantage of its cover. “Uh-oh,” Irene said. “I didn’t think of this consequence! Now we’ll have goblins to contend with, too!”

Indeed it was so. When the goblins arrived and discovered that the jungle was occupied, they hurled some of their stones at these new targets. It had turned into a three-way battle.

The thick cover became a mixed blessing. Irene and her friends were hidden from the harpies, who wheeled and screeched their curses from above, ready to egg anyone who responded—but the goblins were also hidden from both Irene and the harpies, and she knew goblins were good at jungle combat.

A goblin appeared before Chem—but disappeared as she swung her bow around to aim at him. The thickly spreading leaves concealed too much!

A harpy spied the motion and zoomed down close and laid her egg. It detonated to the side, blasting out greenery that splatted green all around them.

A dark, gnarly hand grasped Irene’s arm. She jerked around to look, not daring to scream because of the listening harpies, and came face to snoot with an ugly goblin.

The goblin opened his big mouth, showing his sharp yellow teeth. He lunged to bite Irene’s leg.

She twisted her leg away, then kneed him in the ear. Ow! The goblin’s head was undamaged, but Irene’s knee was hurting!

“Don’t hit their heads!” Grundy called. “They’re hard as rocks! Hit their hands and feet!”

Irene stomped on one of the goblin’s big feet, but the ground was so squishy that the foot merely sank into the soft water, unhurt. Then she grabbed one of the goblin’s arms, wrenched it about, and slammed the goblin’s own hand into his head.

“Owww!” the goblin screamed. “My hand’s broken!”

A harpy heard his cry and circled, trying to pinpoint the source. She screeched a corrosive curse. Soon there would be an egg on both their heads! Irene knew she had to dispatch this creature quickly.

Now she moved her captured arm, the one the goblin’s hand was grasping, and jammed that against his rock-head. She knocked the goblin’s hand against his skull, and it was the hand that gave way. That made him let go. Then Chem got there and swept him away with a well-placed kick in the head. It didn’t hurt the goblin the way a kick in the seat would have, but it drove him so far into the foliage that Irene was able to hide herself again.

“We’ve got to get out of this or we’ll all be dead!” Irene gasped. She had not had much experience with this sort of combat and didn’t like it at all.

“I think I’d better use my power,” the Gorgon said, touching her head.

Irene sighed. “I suppose we have no reasonable alternative.”

Then there was a stir among the wheeling harpies. “It’s him! It’s him!” they screeched.

Irene peered out through the foliage. All she saw was another harpy coming to reinforce the others. Bad news!

“Him?” Chem asked. “The male they thought the goblins killed?”

Now Irene realized the significance of this arrival. “Then they have no cause for war!”

“Oh, they’ll fight anyway,” Grundy said. “Harpies and goblins always fight one another when they get the chance.”

“Well, they shouldn’t do it while we’re caught in the middle!” Irene exclaimed.

“Perhaps I can arrange a truce,” Chem said. “The moment seems propitious, and I believe I have encountered the goblin leader before.”

“Anything’s worth a try!” Irene said. Her hands were cold and clammy, and she hoped she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. She just wanted to get out of this battle and back on the search for her child.