"It's on Mount Parnassus, hidden in the illiterate wilderness," the witch explained. "Only my son's hippogryph knows how to reach it from here. And the Tree is guarded by the Simurgh."
"The Simurgh!" Chem explained. "That's the wisest bird alive! It has seen the destruction of the universe three times and has all the knowledge of the ages! I didn't realize it remained in Xanth; I thought it had departed centuries ago. How I'd love to interview it, even for an hour!"
"Which relates to the rest of my desire," Xanthippe said. "What I'd like is a feather from its tail. Those feathers have magical properties, and can cure wounds. But the way to Mount Parnassus is so dangerous--"
"This Tree of Seeds," Irene said.. "What kind of seeds does it have?"
"All the seeds produced by all the wild plants that exist," the witch said, her wicked old eyes turning dreamy for a moment. "The seed from which my own coven-tree sprouted came from there centuries ago. Likewise the pagean-tree, geome-tree, infant-tree, indus-tree and psychia-tree."
"I would very much like to see that psychia-tree," Chem murmured. "I suspect that would be a mind-affecting experience."
"There are seeds on the Tree of Seeds that no longer exist anywhere else," the witch concluded. "Seeds no ordinary person can even imagine!"
"I'm sure a centaur could imagine them," Chem said.
"Such as the ex-seed, the pro-seed, and the inter-seed," Xanthippe said.
"All the seeds that exist!" Irene breathed. "How I'd like to see that Tree!"
"You can't reach it," the witch asserted. "Parnassus is guarded by the Python, who consumes anyone who sets foot there. No one of any intelligence has ventured near Parnassus in decades."
"But we aren't that smart," Grundy said. "We might venture."
For once the big-mouthed golem was correct! "Suppose we make you a deal," Irene said. "We'll fetch your three seeds and one feather, and you'll return my child and let us go."
Xanthippe shook her head. "It's too much of a gamble. You might never return."
"But of course I'll return for my child!" Irene exclaimed.
"Not if you die on the way."
Oh. There was that indeed. Yet if the alternative was to be involuntarily mated to the witch's son--
"We'll do it," Irene decided. "We'll fetch your feather and seeds. If we don't return, you lose. But if we do return, you will have the items you have always wanted that you can get in no other way."
"Double or nothing, bag," Grundy put in.
"I'm not sure--" Xanthippe said, wavering.
"Just tell us how to reach Parnassus."
"I can't tell you," the witch said. "Only the hippogryph knows the way, and only my son can control that beast."
Irene perceived another reason Xanthippe was halfway careful about the feelings of her son. Xavier did have some leverage. Xap would be dangerous indeed, were he not under control.
"So Xav and Xap come along, frump," Grundy said. "No problem there."
Irene winced. No problem? The last thing she wanted was to associate closely with the witch's son, and she doubted Chem was any more sanguine about the hippogryph. Yet it seemed to be the only feasible way to reach Parnassus, and Parnassus seemed to be the only route clear of their present predicament. So if she had to conquer Parnassus to get her child safely back, she would do it, "This time Grundy is right," Irene agreed reluctantly. "They must come along."
"What do you mean, 'this time'?" Grundy cried.
"Quiet, you nitwit!" Chem snapped, poising her forehoof above his cage.
"Xavier and Xap can lead the way, and we'll follow--" Irene began, then broke off, for she saw the zombie. Zora was making her way toward them, carrying something.
Irene sighed inwardly. She had forgotten about Zora! Of course she couldn't neglect the zombie, who had saved them from the monster of the night. Yet Zora would only be a hindrance on this special quest.
The zombie shuffled up. She held out the thing she carried, showing it to Irene. It was a scale from a fish or reptile, apparently broken off in the course of some quarrel or accident. "Gaftsh," she said, blowing out some of her epiglottis.
"This zombie is one of our party," Irene told the witch. She was determined to do the right thing, though she didn't enjoy it. "She will have to come, too."
"How will she travel?" Xanthippe asked. "That hippogryph moves fast; only the centaur will be able to keep the pace, even if Xap keeps to the ground."
"So she'll ride the gryph, old snot," Grundy said.
"Aw, Maw, Xap don't want to carry a living corpse!" Xavier protested.
But the notion of actually getting the seeds had captured Xanthippe's imagination. "Good enough," the witch decided. "The gryph can handle one more. Bring me back my feather and seeds, and I'll free your brat from my thyme." She touched the shackle on Chem's foot and it fell open, freeing the centaur. Then she opened Grundy's cage similarly.
"Which three seeds do you want?" Irene inquired as she and Grundy mounted Chem.
"The seeds of Doubt, Dissension, and War," the old witch said with gusto.
"Doubt, Dis--" Irene started, shocked. "You can't possibly mean--"
"You do want your daughter back?" Xanthippe inquired with a wrinkled smirk,
Chem trotted across to lift Zora up behind Xavier. Neither man nor steed seemed enthusiastic about this companion, but the witch glared them both quiescent. Irene hoped the zombie could ride well enough to stay on.
The hippogryph took off, literally. He spread his wings and launched into the air. Zora started to slide off, but flung her rotten arms around Xavier and kept her seat--though possibly part of that did fall off. Irene twitched an inward smile, wondering how the golden young man was reacting to this embrace.
Chem moved out, trotting to follow below the hippogryph. "See you later, old heifer!" Grundy called back to Xanthippe.
Xap spiraled up at an angle, his wings spreading hugely, their beat so strong that the ascent was steep, despite the considerable mass of the animal and two riders. The flight was magic-assisted, of course; such a creature could never get off the ground in Mundania.
Chem had to break into a canter to stay in range. "That's one healthy animal!" she said, obviously impressed.
Irene had to agree. The witch might be a shrill and ruthless hag, and her son a muscular dunce, but the hippogryph was a phenomenal specimen of its kind. Burdened by the weight of two people, it nevertheless sailed up as if carrying no weight at all. Griffins were impressive, but the hippogryph was more impressive because it had the body mass of a horse, rather than that of a lion.
Then Xap got his bearings and glided southeast. Chem followed, varying her route to pick up decent running terrain. "Did you catch the significance of Zora's find?" she asked as she ran.
"A dumb fish scale?" Grundy demanded slightingly. "Trust a creature whose brain is sludge to think that's worth anything!"
"A small, bright dragon scale," the centaur corrected him. "Zora's brain must be fairly high-quality sludge, for she recognized what was important. I am something of a scholar in the fauna of Xanth, so I know the different types of scales by sight. That variety is unique to the Gap Dragon, but it is too small. So it must be from the rejuvenated dragon."
"Who is with Ivy!" Irene exclaimed, suddenly making the connection. "Did Zora find them?"
"She must have found evidence of their passage, at least,"
Chem said. "That's why she brought the scale to you. She was trying to say 'Gap.' I was hoping the witch wouldn't catch on."
Grundy clapped his tiny hand to his forehead. "So she was! I heard it and didn't notice!"
"If we fail in this quest and survive, Zora can still help us rescue Ivy, maybe!" Irene said, greatly relieved.
"So it would seem," Chem agreed. "But let's do our best anyway. We have made a commitment, and Ivy's trail may not be easy to pick up, even with that hint--and I really would like to meet the Simurgh."
"But those seeds! Doubt, Dissension, War! How could I deliver
that sort of mischief to a person like that? Think of the harm she might do with them!"
"I don't have the answer," the centaur admitted. "I think we shall simply have to let events take their course."
Irene nodded reluctant agreement. She had consented to fetch the seeds for Xanthippe, and she always honored her agreements, even when she regretted them. Her father King Trent had taught her the importance of that.
Chapter 7
Hugo Award
Ivy was a little Sorceress, though not yet recognized as such. Her magic talent was one of the select few that extended beyond the normal limits and had ramifications that would not have been credible anywhere except in Xanth. This was the gift of the Demon X(AN)th, whose enormous magic permeated the Land of Xanth, though the Demon had no interest in the affairs of Xanth. At the behest of Chem's mother Cherie Centaur, the Demon had bequeathed to the descendants of Bink and his wife Chameleon the status of Magicians. Thus, their son Dor was a Magician, destined from birth to become King of Xanth, and their granddaughter Ivy was another, similarly destined. However, the Demon had not bothered to inform anyone of this, allowing each person to find out in due course.
Throughout the volatile history of Xanth, it had always been awkward to mess with Magicians. The hag Xanthippe should have realized this, but she was out of touch with events and did not know with whom she was messing; she would surely pay a price.
Ivy had been trapped by the thyme and held helpless by its timelessness. There were only three ways to escape this trap: to suffer a general holocaust that destroyed the entire region, to be freed by the witch, or to wait for the century plant to bloom. The holocaust was not advisable, for it would destroy Ivy and Stanley, along with the thyme and much of the rest of Xanth and part of Mundania, too. As for the witch, she was not about to free the child before obtaining one feather and three potent seeds, so that wasn't a worthwhile prospect either, because the chances of her obtaining those artifacts were small. And the century plant still had ninety-three years to go before it bloomed.
But Ivy was a Sorceress, which was a sexist definition of a female Magician. Her power was her ability to intensify the qualities of things about her. Thus, though she was ensorcelled by the thyme, she also acted upon it in her curious fashion. The timelessness of thyme became concentrated to an extraordinary degree--and this affected the century plant in which it rested. The century plant thought it was aging at the rate of fifty-two weeks per year, give or take a day or so; or, failing that, at twelve months per year. But the intensification of time near the thyme warped and curved the environment in a manner that possibly only a brilliant Mundane expert might theorize about, and now the century plant was actually aging at the rate of one year per minute.
Thus, in just ninety-three minutes from the time Ivy touched the thyme and fell into its power, the thyme fell into her power. The century plant completed its cycle and bloomed. It shot up a central stalk which branched and flowered. The stalk sprouted right under the thyme, for that was the center of the plant. The witch had put the thyme there because she knew it would not be disturbed for a hundred years, by which time she would no longer be concerned with it--and indeed, it had been all right for the first seven years. Thyme was very important to a person as old as Xanthippe.
Now the flower-stalk ascended, carrying the thyme up with it. The stalk didn't bother with the entranced girl and dragon, who were extraneous to its design. Thus, in due course, the contact between thyme, girl, and dragon was broken. It was a small thyme plant, and its range was limited; this was perhaps fortunate, for otherwise all of Xanth and a smidgeon of Mundania would have experienced the acceleration of time, and that would have been a complication of another nature. When the contact ceased, so did the spell of timelessness.
Ivy and Stanley woke together. They did not yawn and stretch, as they had not been asleep. To them it seemed that no time had passed. They had not aged even ninety-three minutes, since the thyme did not affect all things identically, especially not Sorceresses and their companions. They didn't notice how the sun had jumped an hour and a half ahead in the sky, for it happened to be behind a cloud at the moment.
"Hey!" Ivy complained. "I was just going to get a pretty disk--and it shot up out of reach! That wasn't nice of it!"
The dragon snorted steam, agreeing. He didn't like to see his friend distressed. He tried to climb the flower-stalk, in order to fetch the disk for her, but the stalk was too narrow for him to get a proper grip, and too tough for him to pull down.
"Oh, never mind, Stanley," Ivy said, disgruntled. "I didn't really want it anyway." This was known as the sour grape ploy, and it was adequate for the occasion. "I'm tired of these big trees; let's go back down to the ground."
Stanley happened to be a ground creature himself, so was glad to oblige. They made their way cautiously out of the century plant, which was now larger than it had been, though they hadn't seen it grow. Stanley steamed the spines soft, as he had done before. Then they paused to eat some fruits. Finally they climbed down the big branches of the pagean-tree until they were able to poke their heads below the foliage and see the ground.
Now there was a problem. They were too far from the ground to jump down safely, and the massive trunk of the tree was vertical--too difficult for them to climb.
But Ivy remained a reasonably smart child, just about as smart as she thought she should be, and she soon came up with a notion. "We must call for help. Someone always comes when a damsel calls for help." Someone always had come before, at any rate. "A Night in Shiny Armor, I think."
Stanley wasn't sure about this, but since his specialty was not rescues, he let Ivy handle it.
Ivy took a deep, small breath and screamed: "HELP!"
In a moment something stirred below. It was a person, obviously coming to the rescue. Ivy was delighted.
She peered down, favorably disposed toward her benefactor, whoever or whatever he might be. Sure enough, the Night was a handsome young man with an intelligent face. He seemed to have left his shining armor behind, but perhaps it had been too hot for this warm weather; that didn't matter. She fell instantly in love with him, for this was what rescued damsels in the company of dragons did.
Now it was time for introductions. These things had to be done according to protocol. "Hello, Night-out-of-Armor, what's your name?" she called.
The rescuer looked up. "Hugo," he said after a pause for reflection.
"I'm Ivy. This is Stanley. He's a dragon," she said, completing the formula. "Help get us down, handsome."
Hugo pondered again. The truth was, he had never been considered a bright boy, and certainly not a handsome one, so he wasn't certain what this meant. He looked down at his clothes, which were dirty and ragged. But somehow they didn't seem as disreputable as expected. What he didn't realize was that Ivy's talent was working on him already. She considered anyone who came to rescue her to be a model of intellect and appearance and courage, by definition, so he was assuming these attributes, like them or not.
Indeed, his dull wit was brightening and beginning to function as never before. He needed to help them get down. What was the best strategy? A light bulb appeared above his head, shining its light all about before fading out. "Something to fall on," he said. "Something soft. Like a pile of squishy fruit!"
But Ivy wasn't quite sure about that. "I don't like squishy fruit." Her mother had fed her that when she was a baby, not long ago, and Ivy had made a horrendous face, spat it out, and disliked it instantly and permanently, exactly as any sensible person would.
"Oh." Hugo considered again. He didn't really like squishy fruit either. Unfortunately, that was all he was able to conjure.
He looked around.
He was in luck. "A bed bug!" he exclaimed, spying one sleeping nearby.
Ivy remembered that the friendly yak had said there were bed bugs in this neighborhood. "Oh, goody!"
Hugo hurried over, gripped the bug by the headboard, and hauled it across to the pagean-tree.
The bug dragged its four little roller-feet but was otherwise passive; it really wasn't constructed for exercise. This was a good one; it had excellent springs and fat pillows.
Ivy approved. She dropped down and bounced on the mattress with a little squeal of joy. There was hardly a more enjoyable pursuit for a child than bouncing on a really soft and springy bed, though the monster under the bed complained about the noise and vibration. But this bed didn't have a monster, so it was all right.
She bounced a few times, then got off so the dragon could come down, too. He did, following her lead. But Stanley had never bounced on a bed before and wasn't as good at it as Ivy was. He flipped tail-over-snout and missed the mattress on the rebound. But that fall was from a lesser height, and he was a tough breed of creature, so he wasn't hurt. One scale did get knocked off, though. Well, he would grow a new one in due course; that spot would be tender for a while, but a dragon learned to cope with such discomfort.
Hugo gazed upon the dragon with a certain dismay. He had spent a day and a night hiding from monsters, and this was certainly a monster, albeit a small one. He was sure he had seen it before.
The dragon for his pain, did not really appreciate the appearance of a human being. He had had Ivy all to himself until now. Obviously she liked this boy, and that meant Hugo was a rival for her attention. Once Stanley had come to accept Ivy's attention, he didn't want to share it. So he growled, turned a deeper shade of green, and heated up some steam. One never could tell when a good head of steam might be useful.
Hugo, in turn, got ready to summon some really squishy fruit; the one thing that was good for was throwing it at monsters. Dripping pineapple was especially nice.
Fortunately, in the way of women of any age, Ivy realized there was a problem. She acted with instinctive finesse to alleviate it. "Don't quarrel!" she cried. "You two must get along together, for you are both my friends. Hugo is my boyfriend--" At this, Hugo was freshly startled. "And Stanley is my Dragon friend. So you're friends to each other, too."
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