Isle of View

by Piers Anthony

  They came in due course to the Ogre-Fen-Ogre Fen, which was pretty swampy, but his huge feet were able to handle it. He was moving much faster than he had in the night, because he could see where he was going, but still it was getting late in the day, and they had a distance yet to go. So he didn't stop; if he moved right along, they could reach Goblin Mountain by soon after nightfall, maybe. He wasn't keen on delivering Che Centaur there, but a deal was a deal, and he had to honor it, so he might as well get it done as fast as possible.

  But that reminded him of the other aspects of this situation. What did the goblins want Che for? Godiva had said something about using him as a companion for her daughter. But that probably meant as a steed, and Che was way too young to be ridden. His legs would be ruined. So this did not sound good, even if the goblins had no bad intent. There was also the matter of the foal being away from his dam. Centaurs of any age were amazingly smart and competent; they did indeed seem to be a superior species. But Dolph knew Che, and knew that he wasn't ready for such separation, no matter how well he might be treated. Dolph also knew that there was no way Che's sire would allow it. So it would have been better—much better!—if Electra had won the game, and they had been able to take the foal home. As it was, Dolph didn't know what would happen.

  Also, what about the elf girl? She was nice enough, but a strange one, because of her pointed ears and four-fingered hands and her size. What was to become of her? She had tried to rescue Che, but the Goblinate of the Golden Horde had been too much for her. Now she couldn't go home, which meant she was stuck in Xanth. Well, maybe they could take her to Castle Roogna.

  One thing about this adventure: it was taking his mind off his problem of his two Betrothees. But he knew that as soon as this was done, he would have to buckle down and make his decision. He was still no closer to it than he had been six years ago.

  An ogre loomed before him. Dolph kept moving. Ogres were big, but grown sphinxes were bigger. He hoped to avoid trouble with the ogres here, but if it came, it came, and he would just plow through.

  The ogre fell back, a stunned look on his stupid face. What had happened? Dolph hadn't done anything.

  "That did it, Nada!" Electra exclaimed.

  Oh. Nada had stood up in the ogre's sight and inhaled. That explained it. Ogres weren't smart, but no brain was necessary to appreciate Nada's human qualities. That ogre would be out for the duration, smiling.

  Then a female ogre showed up. Oops—she would be less impressed by Nada's inhalation, because ogresses were justifiably proud of their ugliness. The perfect ogre was stronger, uglier, and stupider than any other creature of the jungle. The males could be stunned by beauty because it was totally foreign to their experience, but the females did have a glimmer of its nature and labored hard to eradicate it.

  Then the ogress sailed into the air. Godiva's wand was in action again! The ogress made an ugly somersault and landed on a rock on her face. The rock cracked apart, and the fragments shied away, horrified, but her face was unchanged. It still looked like sat-on cornmeal mush.

  The ogress began to realize that something was up. Thoughts traveled slowly through an ogre brain, but in time some of them did get where they were going. Her skull heated, and the fleas jumped off as their feet were scorched. She was trying to think! But in a moment she gave up on that futile effort and simply charged in.

  The wand lofted her again, higher and farther. This time it dumped her headfirst in a mud puddle. The mud petrified in the vicinity of her face, and merely curdled farther out. That made it difficult for her to get out. She bellowed, and the petrified mud exploded, sending rocklike chunks far, wide, and deep. The ogress got back to her feet and charged again. Once a thought got into an ogre's head, little short of an earthquake could dislodge it. Nobody in his right mind tangled with an ogre—except another ogre.

  Fortunately, she was charging in the wrong direction.

  Dolph plodded on, trying to lessen the impacts of his great feet so that the ogress would not catch on to his location. That wasn't hard, because the impacts were more like squishes, as he slogged through the slough.

  Dolph slogged south, and soon came to the Region of the Birds. Most of them ignored him, but a roc circled, pondering. The sphinx was the largest landbound creature, and the roc was the largest flying creature, except for the Simurgh, who did not generally involve herself in ordinary matters. But she had when Chex and Cheiron got married; Dolph had been there, and he had agreed with the others to safeguard their foal. He was afraid he wasn't doing that very well now!

  The roc decided to attack. Rocs tended to resent the size of sphinxes, and this one's beak was evidently out of joint because a sphinx was invading the kingdom of the birds. Dolph did not like this at all; should he change form, dumping his passengers, so as to avoid a confrontation?

  Che Centaur climbed up on Dolph's head and waved his arms. "Get down, Che!" Electra cried, alarmed.

  Then the roc shied away, with a deafening squawk. Dolph realized what had happened: the roc had recognized Che. The rocs were winged monsters, and all of them were sworn to protect Che. So when this one saw that the foal was here, and all right, it canceled its charge. There would be no further trouble in the realm of the birds.

  But what would happen when some of these same winged monsters came to rescue Che from Goblin Mountain? Dolph wished again that the decision had gone the other way!

  He came to the Region of the Griffins as dusk was falling. Every creature here was a winged monster!

  Sure enough, in a moment three fierce griffins flew up to challenge the intruders. Che waved to them, and so instead of attacking they formed an honor guard through the region. They assumed that the others riding the sphinx were serving Che's interest. They were, in a way.

  Metria reappeared, floating in her regular luscious demon form near one of his eyes. "It should get interesting soon," she said encouragingly. "Do you really believe those goblins are going to treat the foal well?"

  Dolph could speak in this form, but knew better than to answer her. She was just trying to make him think about something he didn't want to think about.

  "Of course, once he's inside Goblin Mountain, it will be impossible to get him out again," she continued blithely. "Because if anything attacked, they'd simply dump him into the pot, and have him cooked and eaten before the defenses were breached. So he'll be their hostage, for sure."

  Dolph plodded on, knowing she was right. Yet what could any of them have done in the situation? Electra had explained it to him: Godiva had played a key part in the rescue of Che from the horde by doing a sexy dance to distract the enemy goblins long enough for the elf's magic to take effect. Godiva had risked her life to rescue Che, and Nada and Electra had to honor the deal they had made with her. And it did seem that she didn't want to hurt Che. That counted for a lot.

  But did it count for enough? Ill at ease, Dolph plodded on.

  Night fell without much of a crash, as the sun just barely managed to escape getting caught by the darkness. Dolph wondered what would happen if the sun played it too close and got lost in the night. It would probably have a nervous breakdown!

  He tromped on through more muck and shallow waters. This was where the loan sharks swam, who were bright pretty colors but would take an arm and a leg if anyone let them. The sphinx was far too big for them to bother, though.

  At last he approached Goblin Mountain. He recognized it by the glimmering lights along its surface, outlining it. It had many little goblin caves and paths running between them, so that it looked like a collection of anchored fireflies.

  The mountain shook as the huge feet of the sphinx tramped to its base. Goblins erupted and swarmed down to meet the challenge, bristling with sharp sticks, dull clubs, and guttering torches. Now the mountain looked like a lighted anthill.

  Godiva stood on Dolph's head and swirled her hair provocatively.

  "Tell Goldy I have returned with the foal!" she called.

  There was a stir. A
number of goblins charged up the nearest path and back into the mountain. Dolph waited, not ready to trust such a mass of goblins until he had confirmation that his party was recognized.

  A female goblin emerged. She walked regally down the path until she stood before Dolph. "Loft me, Godiva," she said.

  Then she rose into the air and came to land on Dolph's back. Dolph turned his head enough to cast one eye on the proceedings.

  The two goblin females embraced, and Dolph saw how much alike they looked, except for age. The newcomer was like an older version of Godiva with shorter hair. "What kept you?" she asked.

  "I have brought the foal, Mother. We had complications on the way, so had to improvise."

  "That was because of Murphy's curse," Electra explained.

  The woman frowned. Dolph now understood that she was Goldy Goblin, who had first gained power here by the use of the wand. He had seen her in the Tapestry, when he replayed the story of Smash Ogre. But then she had been young and beautiful; now she was old and grim. "I see. What is the status of these others?"

  "We made a deal to bring the foal here. They will leave in peace."

  "Very well. Loft me down, then the foal."

  "And me," Jenny Elf said.

  "Now wait!" Nada protested. "Jenny shouldn't be made prisoner!"

  "Che is my friend," Jenny said. "I want to be with him."

  Godiva looked at Che. "This was not part of the deal."

  "She is my friend," Che said. "I would much prefer to have her with me."

  No one else looked particularly pleased, but they understood that the elf belonged to none of their parties, and could choose as she wished. "We'll have to let her go," Nada said at last, and Electra agreed.

  "We'll have to take her," Godiva said grimly. "She did enable us to save the foal."

  Goldy faced the elf. "Do you understand that once you enter our mountain, you may not be allowed to leave?"

  "Yes," Jenny said. She was evidently quite nervous about the prospect, but she wasn't going to leave Che. "I'll bring Sammy too." She picked up her cat.

  "Then so be it." Goldy signaled Godiva and abruptly was floating up, across, and down to the ground.

  Then Che Centaur floated similarly down, followed by Jenny Elf and Sammy Cat. Then Moron, Idiot, and Imbecile.

  After that Godiva threw the wand down to her mother, who caught it neatly and used it to loft Godiva herself down.

  The party filed into Goblin Mountain, walking between lines of armed goblins.

  "Oh, I don't like this!" Nada exclaimed, her eyes overflowing. She spoke for all of them.

  Dolph backed away from the mountain, then slowly walked around it, proceeding on south. There was nothing else to do.

  Chapter 9. Cheiron's Chaos

  Cheiron walked along the rim of Mount Rushmost, ill at ease. The news Chex had brought was horrendously disturbing, but that was only the personal aspect. The political aspect was just about as bad. For he knew the moment he heard the news that this was no ordinary crime; Che would not have been abducted just by chance. No, this had the earmarks of goblin involvement, and that suggested that the war between the monsters of the land and the monsters of the air was about to be resumed.

  It had started centuries before, even millennia before, when the goblins and the harpies had their falling out, because the harpy males were attracted by the goblin females' legs. Before it was done, the harpy males had almost disappeared, leaving the harpy females severely out of countenance, and the goblin males were as mean and ugly as the goblin females were nice and pretty. Their wars had involved their allies of land and air, and had contributed to the decline of civilization in Xanth.

  Today the centaurs and even the human folk were restoring Xanthly standards, while both harpies and goblins were scarce, at least on land. But the old alignments remained, and there were ancient covenants that had never been vacated. That was where the political element came in: if the goblins had taken Che hostage in order to wrest some advantage from the monsters of the air, then Cheiron would have to negotiate with them on that basis. He had no intention of doing so.

  It was night, verging on dawn, but he would not rest. Chex was sleeping, secure in the knowledge that he, Cheiron, would know what to do. He did not care to inform her of his private doubts. But perhaps it wasn't as bad as it looked. He could find out before taking action.

  He flicked his body and leaped off the rim. In a moment he was flying powerfully to the lair of Hardy Harpy. It happened that Hardy's goblin daughter, Gloha, was visiting the harpies, and she was the one Cheiron wanted to see. The romance between Hardy and beautiful Glory Goblin had nearly ignited the war again; only the discovery that goblins and harpies together had magic talents had eased that crisis. But it could be that the goblins retained resentment, so had taken captive another land-air crossbreed. Gloha, with her goblin connection, might know.

  He reached the harpy grove. "Whatcha up to, monster?" one of them screeched irritably, disturbed from her sleep.

  "I come to see Gloha, monster," Cheiron replied, using the same courtesy title she had greeted him with. They were all monsters, and proud of it. She settled back, satisfied. As a rule, the harpies hated goblins, but Gloha was different. She was of course a goblin, but she was also a winged monster.

  He reached Hardy's tall tree. Gloha could not clamp her feet on a branch the way a harpy could, so Hardy had made for her a fine and private nest, complete with a roof against the weather. "Gloha!" he called, hovering beside the nest.

  In a moment the thatch door opened and a sleepy head poked out. "What?"

  "It is Cheiron. I must talk with you."

  "Oh. Of course. I will fly to ground." She was too polite to point out that it was still before dawn, the very awfullest time to wake a maiden from her slumber.

  She stepped out onto the branch, pulling on her robe. She was a lovely little lady goblin with birdlike wings, now fifteen years old. Soon she would have to decide what kind of man to take up with; unfortunately there were no other flying goblins.

  They flew to the ground, where Cheiron could stand firmly. "Che has been abducted by goblins," he said abruptly. "Do you know anything about it?"

  Her dainty hand went to her mouth. "Oh, no, Cheiron! Are you sure?"

  "I am sure he has been abducted, and the operation has the goblin stigma. We have search parties out, of course, but my concern is with the motive. It occurred to me that there might be some residual animosity because of the liaison of your parents and that this is an expression of it."

  "I know nothing of this, Cheiron," she said. "But I will certainly find out! I will fly immediately to Glory's village and ask."

  "Thank you. Do you need a guard?"

  She considered. "Ordinarily, no. But if this is the start of something serious, perhaps it is better."

  "Get on my back and I will take you there."

  She nodded. She flew to his back and settled down, as light as a bird. Then he leaped up and spread his great wings, forging into the sky.

  As dawn came, they reached the goblin village. Gloha flew off to consult with the chief, while Cheiron planted his feet and waited alertly, on guard against treachery. If the war were being resumed, his trip here could even be part of the plot: to lure him down so that he, too, could be captured. But he had no fear of goblins; he could handle his bow and spear as well as any centaur could, and that meant that fifty goblins would die before he had to retreat.

  Soon Gloha returned with the goblin chief. The man was gnarled and ugly in the manner of his kind, but his approach was not menacing. Perhaps this was because of Gloha, who by the dawn's early light was as gorgeous a goblin as this village was likely to see. Her wings, folded, formed a feather cloak covering her backside, so that a stranger would have to look two and a half times to realize that she was a crossbreed instead of a rich gobliness. Even a goblin chief tended to behave halfway politely when in the company of a creature like this.

  "We know nothing of this abdu
ction, feather-snoot," the chief said halfway politely. "Gloha was at your mating ceremony six years ago, and joined the pledge to protect your offspring. We don't give a clod of dung for you, horse-foot, or your flighty mare, but we don't want the Simurgh down on us, so we're leaving all winged man-faced horse-rears alone."

  "I appreciate your sincerity, clubfoot," Cheiron said in polite goblin protocol. "But what about other goblin tribes?"

  The chief scowled. "I can count on the fingers of one hand how many of them you can trust to leave your foal alone, hoof-nose." He held up one dark fist.

  "But Grandpa Gorbage," Gloha protested, "you can't count!"

  "That's not so!" the chief retorted gruffly. "I can count none—and that's how many tribes."

  "Agreed," Cheiron said. "But there is no goblinwide conspiracy, or you would know about it?"

  "Right, tail-brain. It's probably the Goblinate of the Golden Horde. They're closest to you, and worst. Even we don't like them."

  "Grandpa, you don't like any other tribes," Gloha said.

  "Right. But we don't like the horde even more than we don't like the others. They're mean gobs!"

  Cheiron knew of the horde. They certainly were the worst gobs. Princess Ivy had brushed with them more than once and dumped most of them into the Gap Chasm, but they regenerated like weeds and made trouble again. But though they were the most violent, they weren't the smartest of goblin tribes. Che had been abducted by smart goblins, with special magic.

  Still, the news that there was no conspiracy was gratifying. That meant that it wasn't a land-air war in the making, but merely a foray by one tribe. He could deal with one tribe. "Thank you for your news, chief," he said. "I'm glad we have no present quarrel."

  "Well, if it wasn't for Gloha and the Simurgh, we'd have one, sweat-flank!" the chief said defensively.

  "To be sure," Cheiron agreed, placating him. "Perhaps some day that will change."