xanth 40 - isis orb

by Anthony, Piers

“Yet it worked out with the fire faun,” Nya said.

  “You had fire to oppose it,” Quin reminded her. “Maybe I’m supposed to oppose this dragon with my steam.”

  “We had better decide soon,” Faro said. “Because there’s the dragon.”

  They looked. The monstrous six-winged dragon was flying toward them, puffing steam. It was male, and so big it seemed it could carry any of them away, even maybe a centaur.

  “Well, I’ll try,” Zed said bravely. His bow appeared in his hands, arrow nocked.

  The dragon saw that, and sheared away. He knew about a centaur’s infallible aim.

  “But he’s too big to be killed by an arrow,” Quin said. “I could be killed, but I’m only a quarter the size of that one.”

  “He probably would feel the sting, though,” Faro said, her own bow appearing. “And if you aimed for an eye, you could blind it. If I loosed another arrow at the same time, we could take out both eyes. It might not like that.”

  “It might not,” Zed agreed with a smile.

  “But we thought it should be just one Companion to a Totem,” Zed said.

  “Maybe it doesn’t know that,” Faro said.

  “It must know. The path has to go to it. The fire faun saw that, and knew.”

  “But it doesn’t,” Faro said. “The path bears off to the side.”

  “Maybe it’s the wrong dragon,” Feline said.

  “I doubt it,” Zed said. “That dragon gave me too knowing a look.”

  “But if the path doesn’t track him—” Faro said.

  “I don’t understand that,” Zed said. “The path should go to him, and if he’s moving, it should move after him, as it did with me. Why isn’t it?”

  “There are too many mysteries here,” Hapless said. “We’d better stop right here and figure some of them out, because any mistake could be lethal.”

  They formed a circle facing each other. “We’ll storm-brain again,” Feline said. “Only all together this time, because that dragon could pick us off individually if we separate.”

  “Two questions to answer,” Hapless said. “Why doesn’t our Companion match the challenge, such as our steamer dragon going after the steamer dragon? And why is the path ignoring the target? Could they be related?”

  “Maybe we do have the wrong Companion for this Totem,” Quin said. “So the path refuses to focus. That’s it’s way of telling us we’re going wrong.”

  “That makes so much sense it’s bound to be wrong,” Feline said.

  “That is cat logic?” Nya asked.

  “Yes. Sometimes the way to catch something is not by bounding straight at it, but by circling it and sneaking up from behind.”

  “How do you sneak up behind a flying dragon who can see you coming?” Quin asked. “You’d never catch me that way.”

  Then Hapless got a notion. “Maybe not sneaking. Herding.”

  The others looked at him, perplexed. “You can’t herd cats,” Feline said.

  “Or dragons,” Quin said.

  “Ah, but we can,” Hapless said. “By getting all around the Region of Earth, and closing in on the dragon from all sides. I think he’s confined to the Region, so we can surround him.”

  “He would just fly over us,” Nya said.

  “Not if we balked him with music. That can reach up and fill the area.”

  “Music! That’s how I enchanted Fiery Faun.”

  “Yes. It should work on the dragon too. Music can reach into the sky so he can’t avoid it.”

  “And if he knows about it, he will want to avoid it,” Zed said thoughtfully. “So he could be herded in toward the center.”

  “Or to one corner, where you will ambush him with your saxophone,” Faro said. “No fire or steam needed, or even arrows. Just a clever idea.” She glanced at Hapless. “I confess, at first I didn’t see why you should be the Quest leader. But I am coming to appreciate it now.”

  “It’s just an idea,” Hapless said, embarrassed. “Maybe wrong.”

  “And maybe right. Let’s put this together: with music, we don’t need to worry about physical weapons, so they’re irrelevant. With herding we don’t need to have the path go direct. The path goes around because that’s the way to catch our dragon: surrounding him. So you were right: the two matters are related, and are the key to success. You’re a genius.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Hapless protested. “Even if it’s right, it’s just a lucky guess.”

  “Which seems to be part of your nature,” Feline said. “Lucky guesses.”

  “Let’s do it,” Faro said. “We can circle the Region and drop off Companions every so often. Then we’ll start playing our music. With luck the dragon won’t know which of us is the one, or maybe it could be any of us, but the path knows where it will finish, and that’s with Zed.”

  “Maybe,” Hapless agreed. It seemed far-fetched, but what else was there?

  “The dragon might not,” Zed agreed with a smile.

  “Question,” Faro said. “How are we to know when everyone is in place, since we won’t be able to see each other and we won’t want to shout and alert the dragon to our plot?”

  “Excellent question,” Zed said, gazing at her appreciatively. “But I believe I have an answer. My double bass saxophone has an extremely low range. I can play the very lowest note, which may be slightly below the range of human or dragon hearing, so it won’t alert the dragon.”

  “Excellent answer,” Faro said, returning the appreciative gaze. “But how can we hear it, if it is beneath our hearing?”

  “By the vibration in the ground. It’s one way Mundane elephants communicate. They feel it in their feet.”

  “And we of the serpentine persuasion should be able to feel it in our bodies,” Nya said. “While the flying dragon won’t, as he has no contact with the ground.”

  “That was my thought, yes.”

  “I will need to keep my paws on the ground,” Feline said.

  “And I can take off my shoes,” Hapless said. “But first, let’s test it.” He conjured the sax, and Zed took it and played a silent note.

  “Hooo!” Quin said.

  “Oh, yes,” Faro agreed.

  Feline changed form, then back. “Yes, definitely.”

  Hapless removed his shoes. There was the vibration. “Got it. So we have our signal. We start herding with our notes when we feel this.”

  A nod circled the group. They had their signal.

  They resumed motion, following the path. The scenery was beautiful, with lush fields and forests. Indeed, all the elements were represented here, but the dominant theme was Earth: the landscape itself. The volcano might have fire, but it was constrained by the massive cone of rock. There were rivers and lakes, but they flowed and formed exactly where the lay of the land directed. There was air, but it was passive, filling in where the contours of the ground allowed. Earth governed here, without question. Only the Void was absent, and that was of course a rule unto itself.

  The path led them to the slope of a mountain so high it had snow on its summit like a white cap. This, too, showed the power of Earth: it controlled the temperature, and could freeze the top of a mountain if it wanted to, so that the water there could do nothing.

  “You know, I always took the ground for granted,” Feline said. “Not any more. I am admiring its majesty.”

  “Much of our existence is shaped by geography,” Nya said. The two females seemed to be becoming friends, having more than gender in common. Sometimes they shifted into their cat and dragon forms to inspect spot features of the terrain.

  The path meandered to a high ledge overlooking a fetching valley. Then it did something odd: it looped before moving on.

  “Hold up,” Hapless said. “I don’t much trust anything I don’t understand, and I don’t understand why the path should loop. None of the paths have done that before.”

  “This is a good point,” Zed said. “The path may not be smart in itself, but it does know where it’s going,
or rather, where we are going. If we ignore its hints, we could be in trouble.”

  “What trouble threatens here?” Hapless asked.

  There was a rumble. Then a patch of snow broke off from the snowcap and slid down the mountainside. It descended to a lower slope, where it buried several trees.

  “Avalanche,” Zed said succinctly. “And by the look of it, this is a prime location. The slope above this ledge is steep, and snow is piled up. It could crash down at any time.”

  “So we don’t want to linger here long,” Feline said. “Because if an avalanche came, we non-fliers could not escape it.”

  But Hapless wasn’t satisfied. “I don’t see why a loop would be a warning. A loop doesn’t go anywhere; it just circles around itself. That’s more like telling us to stay here.”

  “We are missing something,” Zed agreed.

  “It’s too bad we have to leave it,” Feline said. “It’s a nice lookout to spy on the dragon. We can see all across the Region of Earth from here.”

  “Ah,” Zed said, a bulb flashing over his head. “A lookout should stay here. Or rather, a herder. To stop the dragon from coming this way.”

  “But the avalanche!” Feline protested.

  “A flier could avoid it.”

  “Who?”

  “That would be me,” Faro said. “I could fly just high enough to avoid the avalanche, if I had to.”

  “That makes sense,” Hapless agreed. “This will be your post.”

  “Give me my instrument.”

  Hapless conjured the three-drum set and gave it to her. She put it on and played a brief drum solo. “I will hold the fort.”

  The others moved on. The path led down the far slope to a broad level area where no plants grew; it was solid sand. It was hot. In the center of the parched section there was another loop.

  “Station Two,” Hapless said. “The desert post. Who can handle this?”

  “I can,” Nya said. “I am now impervious to heat.”

  Hapless conjured her harmonica. She took it and played a few lovely notes. “I am ready.”

  “Then so are we,” Hapless said. Then he thought of something. “Oops.”

  “I don’t like the sound of that,” Feline said.

  “I just realized that you won’t be able to play beautiful music in my absence,” Hapless said ruefully. “So our herding won’t work.”

  She stared at him. “Oh, litterbox! I forgot.”

  “We all did,” Quin said.

  “Can you think outside the box?” Zed asked.

  Hapless strained, knowing that it was up to him to salvage the situation. Finally a dim bulb flashed. “Maybe we can bluff him.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t see how,” Zed said. “Dragons may not be the smartest creatures, but they make up for that in ferocity. Only superior combat power or evocative music will daunt him.”

  “Unless we do something he will never think of.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “A single note. Even without talent, we can do that. Well, maybe I can’t, but the rest of you can.”

  “A note is not a symphony,” Nya said. “It will not enchant the dragon.”

  Hapless glanced at her. “You know this from your Totem?”

  “Yes. It takes special evocative music.”

  “And the dragon knows this?”

  “All the creatures on the Totem draft know it.”

  “Good. I need your help, Nya.”

  The naga smiled. “If it’s okay with Feline.”

  He ignored that dig. “I need you to fly back to Faro and explain to her that she will have to use a sustained note when she plays her drums. That is, nothing fancy, as she won’t have the skill in my absence. Just a regular beat, like a prelude to a full rendition.”

  “But that won’t enchant the dragon,” Nya repeated.

  “That’s right. It won’t. But it will warn him that the music is about to begin. He will turn away, lest he be caught by it.”

  She considered. “He won’t know it’s a bluff.”

  “That’s right. As long as she doesn’t actually try to do more. She doesn’t need to enchant him, just warn him away.”

  She nodded. “You’re right. That is outside the box.” She changed to dragon form and took off, flying back the way they had come, though it was no longer marked by the path.

  “You’ve got nerve,” Feline said.

  “One of my few qualities,” he agreed.

  Soon Nya returned. She landed, then assumed naga form. “Faro understands. She’ll do it.”

  “Good enough. You’ll do it too, on your harmonica. Just a single warning note.” He conjured her harmonica.

  “Got it,” she agreed, accepting it. She played a single note.

  The remaining four of them moved on, following the path around the Region of Earth in a slow left turn. The desert ended and a rocky terrain appeared. “Only small plants grow here,” Feline remarked. “No trees.”

  “Surely more mischief,” Quinn said.

  The ground shook. Cracks appeared and rocks rolled about.

  “It’s an earthquake!” Zed said.

  “Fortunately, a small one,” Quin said. “That explains why there are no trees: they don’t have time to grow here. Only weeds.”

  In the middle of the quake zone was another loop.

  “But it’s not safe here,” Feline said. “There could be a big quake.”

  “Unless a person can fly above it,” Quin said. “So this must be my station.”

  “It must be,” Hapless agreed. He conjured Quin’s accordion. “Can you salvage it when a quake comes?”

  “I think so.” Quin donned the accordion, then shifted to dragon mode. The straps remained around his serpentine body. He flew in a loop and returned. Then he shifted back to harpy form. The accordion was undamaged. He played a single note.

  “That’s it,” Hapless agreed.

  “Look,” Feline said. “The dragon is returning.”

  “Good,” Hapless said. “Play your note, then when the dragon comes closer, serenade it. It won’t be smart enough to know that my presence makes a difference.”

  “Got it.” Quin faced the creature and played the note, followed by a lively melody.

  The dragon retreated. He had gotten the message.

  “Ideal,” Hapless said.

  Three of them moved on. They now were about half way around the Region. They could still see the big volcano in its center. It was as if the volcano was watching them, daring them to approach to within its range. Was that also a bluff? Hapless doubted it.

  They entered a forest covering a hill. The crest of the hill was bare and full of holes like a giant ant mound. “Goblins,” Feline said. “I hope we skirt that.”

  Unfortunately they didn’t. The path led right by it, then made a loop.

  “This one must be mine,” Feline said. “Goblins are afraid of cats, as you saw.”

  “But you’re a small cat.”

  “Still big enough to dispatch a goblin. Give me my kit.”

  Hapless conjured the small violin. She took it and played a riff.

  Goblins swarmed out of the mound and charged in to surround them. “Fresh meat!” the goblin leader said.

  Feline faced them. “Now we can do this two ways,” she said evenly. “You can attack us and we’ll make you hurt by stomping you.” She glanced at Zed, who obligingly stomped his feet menacingly. The goblins backed off slightly, knowing they would take losses. “Clawing you.” She changed to cat form and arched her back while spitting. The goblins retreated another step. “And revolting you.” She glanced at Hapless. “The tuba,” she murmured, before changing back to human form.

  Hapless conjured the tuba and played a brief but sickening siege of retch music. The goblins turned greenish and retreated further.

  “Or we can declare a truce and I can play you a selection from ‘Goblin’s Goblet,’ and then remain a while to back off the dragon so he won’t steam you today.” She
played a few notes, and the goblins softened visibly. She evidently did know the song. “So which is it to be?”

  The goblin leader hesitated.

  Zed stomped one forefoot. Hapless took a breath to blow another ill note. Feline switched to cat form for a quarter of a moment.

  “Truce,” the leader said quickly.

  Feline smiled. “That’s so nice of you.” She played the kit again, and it was truly evocative, smelling of overflowing goblets of wine. It was intoxicating. The goblins loved it.

  When she finished the piece, the goblins staggered back to their mound, too soused for combat. “Go get the dragon,” Feline said, playing the single note.

  Hapless paused a good three fifths of a moment. Feline had handled the crisis with elegant finesse, and he liked that almost as well as he liked her curves.

  “Move it,” she said sharply as if reading his thought. Almost wasn’t good enough.

  Hapless and Zed moved on. “She is a worthwhile person,” Zed said as they followed the path on around the Region.

  “She is,” Hapless agreed. “But apart from her hang-up about curves, I am fated to have one or two more girlfriends. That complicates things.”

  “That would,” the centaur agreed.

  The scenery continued beautiful, with a pleasant river coursing beside the path. They crossed it on a pleasant covered bridge. At the far side there was another loop.

  A troll rose up. “Stop. Pay Troll,” he said.

  They paused. “This is a trollway?” Zed asked.

  “Of course it is, stripe face! Trolls live under bridges, and this is mine. Now pay up or I’ll eat you.”

  “What is the toll?” Zed asked.

  “What do you have?”

  “If we are to negotiate payment,” Hapless said, “let’s introduce each other. I am Hapless Human and this is Zed Centaur. Who are you?”

  “I am Trover Troll.”

  “That’s an odd name.”

  “Not at all. A trover is a legal action for the recovery of personal property wrongfully converted by someone else for his own use. Such as your using my bridge to cross the river without paying for it.”

  “I disagree.” Hapless said. “We are following a magic path that indicates where one of us should stay. I think this is my station. I know nothing about payment.”