Levitation. That would certainly help Tandy 1 But he needed to get it started in a hurry. "Crone so smart, how she start?" "She looped it in a series of loops," the goblin said. "But when we made the same loops, nothing happened."
Tandy's feet were now disappearing into the muck. Only the submerged mass of the isle balked the fin-for now. "Give poop. What loop?" Smash demanded. "Like this." The goblin described a partial circle with a tuck in it.
"That looks like a G," John remarked. Apparently fairies were literate, too.
G. A letter of the human alphabet? Suddenly Smash's intellect pounced. What was a signature except a series of letters? A written name? John's own case illustrated the importance of a name; her entire mission was simply to locate her correct one. One could not choose just any name, because only the right one had power. This should apply for wands as well as for fairies, here in Xanth. Maybe it was different inside the gourd, where names could be changed at will. "What name of dame?"
"Grungy Grool," the goblin answered. "She was a witch."
A witch with the initials G G. Suppose the wand tuned in to the signature of its holder? Smash described a big, careful S.
Nothing happened. Holding his disappointment in check, he described a matching 0. Smash Ogre-his initials.
Still nothing. The wand remained quiescent in his hamhand. What now?
Tandy screamed. Her isle was giving way, and she was toppling into the muck.
Smash aimed the wand like an arrow, ready to hurl it at the fin.
Tandy's fall stopped midway. She hung suspended at an angle above the bog, right where Smash was pointing.
"The wand is working!" John cried, amazed and gratified.
Slowly Smash tilted the wand up. Tandy floated, remaining in its power. Of course the activated wand had not moved in his hand before; that wasn't the. way it worked. Be had to move it-to make some other object respond.
"I'm flying!" Tandy cried.
"He made it work!" the goblin lieutenant exclaimed.
Smash guided Tandy carefully to land and .set her down. Her feet were muddy and she was panting with reaction, but she was otherwise unharmed. He knew a spunky little girl like her would rebound quickly.
The goblin lieutenant rushed up. "Give me that wand, ogre!"
"Don't do it!" John cried.
But Smash, ever the stupid ogre, blithely handed over the wand. "It is goblin property," he murmured, forgetting to rhyme.
The goblin snatched the wand, pointed it at Smash, and lifted it. Smash did not rise into the air. The wand was not attuned to the goblin. It remained useless to anyone else, exactly as it had been when taken from its witch-owner. Smash had suspected this would be the case.
"But you made it work!" the goblin protested angrily.
"And you tried to turn it against him!" Goldy cried. "Do you call that goblin honor?"
"Well, he's just a stupid ogre," the goblin muttered. "What does he know?"
"I'll tell you what he knows!" Goldy flashed. "He's a lot smarter than-"
"Me smart, at heart," Smash said, interrupting her.
Goldy paused, then exchanged a glance of understanding with him. "Smarter than the average ogre," she concluded.
The goblin lieutenant formed a crafty expression, too subtle for the average ogre to fathom. "Very well, ogre. Teach her how to work the wand, if it's not a fluke." He gave the wand to Goldy.
So the goblins figured to get the secret from her. Smash understood perfectly. But he smiled vacuously.
"Happily, me teach she."
"Me?" Goldy asked, surprised. "Smash, you don't really want to-"
Smash put his huge mitt on her hand. "You have a mind of your own, chiefs daughter," he murmured.
"Use it." Gently he moved her hand, making the wand ascribe the letters G G, her initials. Then he stepped back.
"I don't understand," Goldy said, gesturing with the wand.
Three goblins sailed into the air as the moving wand pointed at them.
"She's got it!" the goblin lieutenant exclaimed. "Good enough! Give it here, girl!" He advanced on her.
Goldy pointed the wand at him and lifted it. He rose up to treetop height. "Give what where, dolt?" she inquired sweetly.
The lieutenant scrambled with hands and feet, but merely made gestures in the air. "Get me down, wretch!" he screamed.
She waved the wand carelessly, causing him to careen in a high circle. "Do what, who?"
"You'll pay for this, you bi-" The goblin broke off as he was pitched, upside down, just clear of the bog.
A blue fin cut across and began circling under his nose.
"Smash," Goldy said sweetly, "why don't you and your friends have a good meal while I try to get the hang of this wand? I might need some advice, to prevent me from accidentally hurting someone." And the goblin lieutenant spun crazily, just missing a tree.
"Feed them! Feed them!" the goblin cried. "This crazy sl-young lady goblin will be the death of me!"
"I might, at that, if I don't learn to manage this thing better," Goldy agreed innocently. The wand quivered in her hand, and the goblin did a bone-rattling shake in the air, almost dropping to within reach of the slavering blue fin.
The goblins hastily brought out food. Smash stuffed himself in excellent ogre fashion on strawberry-flavored cavern mushrooms and curdled sea-cow milk while the goblin girl experimented with the wand, lifting first one goblin, then another.
"Let someone else try it!" a goblin suggested craftily. Goldy glanced at Smash, who nodded. Then she handed the wand to the first taker.
The wand went dead again. Several goblins tried it, without result. It occurred to Smash that if one of them should have the initials G G, as was hardly beyond the reach of coincidence, the wand might work-but that never happened. Probably it was not only the key, but the particular person signing it. Another G G goblin would have to make his own G G signature. That was a pretty sophisticated instrument!
"Give me that," Goldy said, taking it back. It still worked for her. Once the wand was keyed to a particular person, it stayed that way. Since the goblins were illiterate, they never would catch on to the mechanism, most likely.
The meal concluded. Smash rubbed his belly and let out a resounding belch that blew the leaves off the nearest bush.
"Well, I can't say it hasn't been fun," Goldy said, offering the wand back to Smash.
Smash refused it, wordlessly.
"You mean I can keep it?" she asked, amazed.
"Keep it," the Siren said. "I think you will have no trouble getting a suitable husband here now. Probably a chief. Whatever you choose."
Goldy considered, contemplating the wand. "There is that. Power is a language we goblins understand somewhat too well." She faced Smash again. "Ogre, I don't know what to say. No goblin would have done this for you."
"He's no ordinary ogre," Tandy said, giving Smash's arm a squeeze. "Keep the wand. Use it well."
"I will," Goldy agreed, and there seemed to be an ungoblinish tear in her eye. "If any of you folk ever have need of goblin assistance-"
"Just in getting out of here," Chem said. "Any information on the geography to the north would be appreciated."
Goldy gestured toward the lieutenant with the wand. "Information?"
Hastily the goblins acquainted Chem with what they knew of the reaches to the north, which wasn't much.
Well fed, the party set out as dusk fell, following the bog to the river, and the river until it petered out.
They camped near the firewall, snacking on some leftover mushroom tidbits Goldy had arranged to have packed. They would have to cross the Region of Fire again to get where they were going, as the goblins had assured them that it went right up to the land of the griffins, which beasts were hostile to travelers.
"That was a generous thing you did, Smash," the Siren said. "You could so readily have kept the wand, especially after they tried to trick you out of it and use it against you."
"Goldy had better use for
it," Smash said. "Why should an ogre crave more power?"
"One thing I don't understand," John said. "You say you were victimized by the Eye Queue vine. That makes you smarter than an ordinary ogre, whose skull is filled with bone."
"Correct," Smash agreed uncomfortably.
"But that does not account for your generosity, does it?
You have let the rest of us impose on you, and you did something really nice for Goldy, and I don't think another ogre would, not even a smart one. Goblins are like ogres, only smaller and smarter, and they don't do anything for anybody."
Smash scratched his head. Still no fleas. "Maybe I got confused."
"Maybe so," the fairy replied thoughtfully. Tandy and Chem and the Siren nodded, smiling with that certain female knowingness that was so annoying.
Chapter 11. Heat Wave
Smash's Eye Queue would not leave well enough alone; that was its most annoying trait. He greeted the next morning with doubts. "How do we know the griffins are unfriendly?" he asked. "Can we trust the information of the goblins? We do know the fire is dangerous, on the other hand."
"We certainly do!" John agreed. "My wings will never grow back if I keep singeing them! But griffins are pretty violent creatures and they do eat people."
"Let's travel near the firewall," the Siren suggested. "That way we can cross over and risk the fire if the griffins turn out to be too ferocious."
They did that. But soon the bog closed in, squeezing them against the firewall. The colored fins paced them eagerly.
Chem halted. "I think we have to make a decision," she
said as she updated her map-image.
"I'll check the other side," Smash said, setting down the Siren. He stepped across the firewall.
He was at the edge of the fumaroles, amidst fresh ashes. Not far north the forest fire continued to rage.
There was no safe passage here!
He saw a shape in the ashes. Curious, he uncovered it. It was the burned-out remnant of a large tree trunk, still smoldering. The fall of ashes had smothered it before it finished its own burning. Smash wondered when a tree of this size ever had a chance to grow here. Maybe it had fallen across the firewall from the other side.
Then he bad a notion. He put his gloved hamhands on the charred log and heaved it back through the firewall. Then he stepped through himself. "A boat," he announced. "A boat!" Tandy exclaimed, delighted. "Of course!" They went to work with a will, scraping out ashes and burned-out fragments and splinters. Then they launched the dugout craft in the muck. Smash ripped out a sapling to use as a pole so he could shove their boat forward. He remembered traveling similarly with Prince Dor. But this was more challenging, because now he had responsibility for the party.
The colored fins crowded in as the craft slid through the bog. At length Smash became annoyed, and used the tip of his pole to poke at the nearest fin. There was a chomp, and the pole abruptly shortened.
Angry, Smash reached out with a gauntleted hand and caught hold of the offending fin. He heaved it out of the water.
The creature turned out to be fishlike, with strong flukes and sharp teeth. "What are you?" Smash demanded, shaking it. The thing was heavy, but Smash had over half his ogre strength back now and was able; to control his captive.
"I'm a loan shark, idiot!" the fish responded, and Smash did not have the wit, until his Eye Queue jogged him snidely later, to marvel that a fish spoke human language. "Want to borrow anything? Prompt service, easy terms."
"Don't do it!" John cried. "You borrow from one of them, it'll take an arm and a leg in return. That's how they live."
"You have already borrowed part of my pole," Smash told the shark. "I figure you owe me. I'll take a fin and a fluke."
"That's not the way it works!" the shark protested. "No one skins sharks!"
"There is always a first time," Smash said. He had a fundamental understanding of this kind of dealing.
He put his other hand on the thing's tail and began to pull.
The shark struggled and grunted, but could not free itself. "What do you want?" it screamed. "I want to get out of this bog," Smash said. "I'll get you out!" The shark was quite accommodating, now that it was in a bad position. "Just let me go!" "Don't trust it any farther than you can throw it," John advised.
Smash was not about to. He used one finger to poke a hole in the shark's green fin and passed Chem's rope through it. Then he heaved the creature forward. It landed with a dull muddy splash before the dugout, the rope pulling taut. "That's as far as I can throw it," Smash said.
The shark tried to swim away, but as it moved, it hauled the boat along behind. It was not trustworthy, but it seemed to be seaworthy. Or bogworthy.
"Now you can swim anywhere you want to, Sharky," Smash called to it. "But I'll loose the rope only when we reach the north edge of this bog."
"Help! Help me, brothers!" the shark called to the other fins that circled near.
"Are you helpless?" one called back. "In that case, I'll be happy to tear you apart."
"Sharks never help each other," John remarked. "That's why they don't rule Xanth."
"Ogres don't help each other, either," Smash said. "The same for most dragons." And he realized that he had suffered another fundamental revelation about the nature of power. Human beings helped each other, and thus had become a power in Xanth far beyond anything that could be accounted for by their size or individual magic.
Meanwhile, the loan shark got the message. It was living on borrowed time, unless it moved. It thrust north, and the bog fairly whizzed by. Soon they were at the north bank.
They climbed out, and Smash unthreaded the rope. The shark vanished instantly. No one sympathized with it; it had for once been treated as it treated others.
But now the griffins came. Probably another shark had snitched, so the griffins had been alert for the party's arrival. Since the creatures probably intended no good, Smash stepped quickly across the firewall for a peek at that situation. He found himself in the middle of the forest fire. No hope there!
The great bird-headed, lion-bodied creatures lined up, inspecting the motley group. The monsters were the color of shoe polish. Then they charged.
Smash reacted automatically. He swung his pole, knocking the first griffin back. Then he dived across the firewall, ripped a burning sapling out of the ground, dived back, and hurled the flaming mass at the remaining griffins. The sapling was of firewood, which burned even when green; in a moment the wing
feathers of the griffins were burning.
The monsters squawked and hurled themselves into the bog to douse the flames. The colored fins of the sharks clustered close. "You're using our muck!" a shark cried. "You owe us a wing and a paw!"
The griffins did not take kindly to this solicitation. A battle erupted. Muck, feathers, and pieces of fin flew outward, and the mud boiled.
Smash and the girls walked northwestward, following the curve of the firewall, leaving the violence behind. The landscape was turning nicer, with occasional fruit and nut trees, so they could feed as they traveled.
The Siren, rested by her tour in the boat and periodic dippings of her tail, found she could walk now.
That lightened Smash's burden.
There were birds here, flitting among the trees, picking at the trunks, scratching into the ground. The farther the party went, the more there were. Now and then, flocks darkened the sky. Not only were they becoming more numerous, they were getting larger.
Then a flight of really large birds arrived-the fabulous rocs. These birds were so big they could pick up a medium-sized dragon and fly with it. Was their intent friendly or hostile?
A talking parrot dropped down. "Ho, strangers!" it hailed them "What melodies bring you to Birdland?"
Smash looked at the parrot. It was all green and red, with a downcurving beak. "We only seek to pass through," he said. "We are going north."
"You are going west," the bird said.
So they were; the gradually cur
ving firewall had turned them about They reoriented, bearing north.
"Welcome to pass through Birdland," the parrot said.
"There will be a twenty per cent poll tax. One of your number will have to stay here."
"That isn't fair!" Tandy protested. "Each of us has her own business."
"We are not concerned with fairness," the poll replied, while the horrendously huge rocs drifted lower, their enormous talons dangling. "We are concerned with need. We need people to cultivate our property so there will be more seeds for us to eat. So we hold a reasonable share of those who pass."
"A share-for slavery?" Tandy demanded, her spunky spirit showing again.
"Call it what you will. One of you will stay-or all will stay. The tax will be paid." And the rocs dropped lower yet. "Poll your number to determine the one."
Smash knew it would be useless to fight. He might break the claws of one roc, but another would carry away the girls. The big birds had too much power. "We'll see," he said.
Tandy turned on him. "We'll seel You mean you'll go along with this abomination?"
"We don't have much choice," Smash said, his Eye Queue once again dominating his better ogre nature.
"We'll just have to cross this land, then decide who will remain."
"You traitor!" Tandy flared. "You coward!"
The Siren tried to pacify her, but Tandy moved away, her face red and body stiff, and hurled an invisible tantrum at Smash. It struck him on the chest, and its impact was devastating. Smash staggered back, the wind knocked out of him. No wonder the goblin chief had fallen; those tantrums were potent!
His head gradually cleared. Smash found himself sitting down, little clouds of confusion dissipating.
Tandy was beside him, hugging him as well as she could with her small arms. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Smash.
I shouldn't have done that! I know you're only trying to be reasonable."
"Ogres aren't reasonable," he muttered.
"It's just that-one of us-how can we ever callously throw one to the wolves? To the birds, I mean. It just isn't right!"
"I don't know," he said. "We'll have to work it out."
"I wish we had the wand," she said.
The Siren came to them. "We do have the Ear," she reminded them.
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