Pet Peeve

by Piers Anthony

  "Two days!" Goody said. "But it takes us more than a day to recruit one species, and we have three species left."

  "Precisely. You can no longer afford to fly economy class. You need instant travel."

  "But how—"

  "Demons," Vore said. "Ted, call your mother."

  "Aw, she won't come one minute before your babysitting time is up."

  Vore smiled. "Repeat after me, with feeling: 'Oh, look at that faun and nymph! What a celebration!' "

  Monica clapped her hands. "OoOoOo Daddy! You naughty!"

  Ted took a big breath. "OH, LOOK AT THAT FAUN AND NYMPH! WHAT A—"

  Demoness Metria appeared. "Stop that! You know it's a violation of the Giant Conjugation!"

  "The what what?" Ted asked innocently.

  "Grown Cartel, Big Alliance, Mature Coalition, Aged Association, Ripe Collusion, Senior Confusion—"

  "Adult Conspiracy?" Monica asked just as innocently.

  "Whatever!" Metria agreed crossly. Then she looked around. "Oh, bleep! It was a set-up."

  "You take Gwenny," Vore said. "I'll take Goody."

  "I will not!"

  "Very well. I'll take Gwenny." Vore smiled. "Come here, you delightful little package. I've wanted to get you in my arms for the longest time."

  Gwenny went to him, trusting him, especially since Nada Naga did not look worried, as well she might not. No female could rival her for beauty.

  Metria hesitated, starting to lose cohesion in her distraction.

  The parody flew back to perch on Goody's shoulder. "I dare you, fog face."

  The demoness puffed into smoke. The smoke popped out of existence, only to reappear around Goody. "Where to, guileful goblin?" it asked.

  "The elves," he said.

  The smoke coalesced around his body, squeezing him in awkward spots. "Done."

  There was a moment of disorientation. Then Goody and Gwenny stood before a towering Elf Elm tree. "The elves won't let demons into their tree," Vore said. "You'll have to go alone. But they will give you a fair hearing."

  "I know," Gwenny said.

  The demons faded out.

  Elves appeared, swinging down on vines from the high foliage. They wore green uniforms and were half the height of the goblins, and much less in mass. Both had glossy gray hair, not a sign of age but of elfin health. "Ho, goblins!" one said. "What is your business here with the Warrior Elves?"

  "What's it to you, greenface?"

  "It's the bird!" Gwenny said quickly, and explained. The elves nodded, understanding.

  "I am Goody Goblin. We come to enlist your help in saving Xanth from disaster."

  The elves exchanged glances. "This seems worthy. Come this way." He climbed up his vine.

  "Uh, we lack—"

  "Oh, that's right. You aren't strong at the tree. Very well, take hold of Amazonia's feet. I'll take the gobliness. I am Mace Elf."

  "But—"

  "Do it," Gwenny said. "And don't let go." She reached up and caught the elf man's ankles with her relatively huge hands. Mace immediately climbed his vine, using his two hands, hauling her up with him.

  Then Goody remembered: elves were very strong near their elms. The nearer, the stronger, until they were perhaps the strongest creatures in Xanth. He looked up, saw the elf girl's feet, and took hold of her ankles. She too climbed hand over hand, taking him up without seeming effort.

  "You haven't been to an Elf Elm before," Amazonia said.

  He looked up to talk to her, and saw up under her green skirt. He hastily looked away. "True."

  "Get a load of those green p—"

  "Perfect legs," Goody said, overriding the peeve.

  "We'll use accommodation spells to make it easier. Just call us by our names, nothing else."

  "But your king—"

  "Is Sword Elf. Call him Sword. That's all. He knows his rank."

  "Thank you." They were now about halfway up the trunk toward the foliage.

  "Is the gobliness your woman?"

  How was he to answer that? "She may be."

  "Then we will spare you amour, though it is customary for important deals."

  "Hoo man!"

  Just how did the elves usually make deals? He decided not to ask.

  They reached the foliage. "Step onto the branch," Amazonia said.

  He found a branch almost hidden amidst the leaves. He put his feet on it, got his balance, and let go of her ankles. He walked carefully to the central trunk, which was still quite large at this height. He saw Gwenny approaching along another branch.

  Mace and Amazonia appeared. "We have a modified accommodation spell," Mace said. "Do you understand?"

  "Yes," Gwenny said.

  "No," Goody said.

  "Then we shall explain," Amazonia said. "A normal accommodation spell is used for occasions such as summoning the stork, when the participants are of different sizes, such as a human and an elf. It makes them seem to be the same size, the human one-eighth his normal mass, the elf girl eight times her normal. But this modified one will affect only you goblins, making you seem an eighth of your mass, while we are unchanged."

  Goody realized it made sense. An elf was half the height of a goblin, but in terms of mass that was not half, not a quarter, but an eighth; it had to do with the magic of numbers, that liked to multiply when they weren't being closely watched. "Now I understand, thank you."

  The elf maiden glanced sharply at him. "You don't talk like a goblin male. Only your bird does."

  "I am cursed to be polite," Goody said.

  "We would prefer to have more like you," Amazonia said. "Goblin girls are in demand by elf men with accommodation spells, but goblin men are not in demand by elf girls." She glanced appraisingly at him. "Are you sure you don't wish to indulge in our—?"

  "How fast can you get out of that armor, you luscious little lass?" the parody asked. Naturally the one time it didn't insult was when a compliment would do more damage.

  "He's sure," Gwenny said.

  "Now I shall invoke the spell," Amazonia said. She waved her hands. There was a flash, and suddenly the tree trunk expanded to double its former width. Rather, they had seemed to shrink by that amount.

  "King Sword will now receive you," Mace said.

  A door opened in the trunk of the tree, and they walked inside. There was a bare wood chamber. The door closed behind them, and the chamber abruptly lifted. They were rising farther in the tree.

  The ascent slowed. The door opened, and they stepped out into a bower crafted of foliage. There stood an elf man wearing an impressive sword. This was obviously King Sword of the Warrior Elves.

  "Greetings, Chief Gwenny and consort," the king said.

  "And our greeting to you, King Sword," Gwenny replied. "I had not realized that you knew me."

  "I know of you, Gwenny, and respect what you have done with Goblin Mountain. In time those goblins may even become civilized."

  "Never!" the peeve said.

  "What is your business with us?"

  Goody explained about the robots.

  Sword nodded. "Of course we shall do what we can. But you must understand that we can be effective only near our Elf Elms, where our strength is greatest. There are several near Iron Mountain, and I will send word to those trees. You can complement our forces with others that can operate freely between trees."

  "Thank you, Sword," Goody said, gratified. "That will surely help significantly."

  "Then it is done." Sword glanced at Gwenny. "You are a winsome lass; are you sure you would not like to indulge our hospitality for a night?"

  "Ordinarily it would be a pleasure. But we have two more species to contact today," Gwenny said diplomatically.

  When they returned to the lower trunk station, a number of the elf maidens had changed to flowing green dresses that enhanced their excellent figures. "If you care to dally, goblin man—" one said.

  Goody borrowed Gwenny's phrasing. "Ordinarily I would be delighted. But we have a short deadline." Indeed,
had he found himself in this situation before meeting Gwenny, he would have been seriously tempted. There might be ways in which elven maidens were inferior to goblin maidens, but there was no evidence of that here.

  They rode ankles back down to the ground. "Some other time, perhaps," Amazonia said as they parted, giving her green skirt a flounce.

  "Any time, bonny belle!" the bird said.

  "I'm almost sorry to haul you away from that," Gwenny murmured as they walked from the tree.

  "First you would have to tell me that you have no further interest in me."

  "Haw haw haw!"

  She smiled and squeezed his hand.

  The demons reappeared. In half an instant they were on their way to the harpies.

  That turned out to be easy: "We love to fight!" the harpy leader screeched. "Now that we're not fighting goblins—" She looked at Goody as if truly regretting that. "We need something else. The robots sound ideal. We'll bomb them to oblivion."

  "They may have developed flying machines," Goody warned her. "That could make the air dangerous."

  "Then we'll take losses. We're used to that. What counts is the fight."

  Almost before they knew it, they were on their way to the last of the contacts: the ogres. Goody was wary of this, because ogres and goblins did not necessarily get along, but Gwenny happened to have an ogre contact.

  "My friend Okra Ogress," she explained. "She was an outcast because she wasn't ugly enough."

  "That's the sort of thing I can understand."

  "I thought you would." She kissed him. "Her husband is Smithereen, the Ogre Overlord. We call him Over Ogre, because he's too stupid to remember the whole title."

  Okra lived in a huge cave near Lake OgreChobee. As they walked beside the huge shallow lake a group of burning letter O's sailed up, startled. "Watch it, Flaming O!" the parody squawked as one passed close enough to almost singe a feather.

  "Jenny Elf calls them flamingos," Gwenny said. "She heard the term from the Mundane she was being a Companion for. Isn't that funny?"

  "Mundanes don't know anything," Goody agreed.

  They came to the cave. Goody picked up a rock and pounded it against the wall.

  Two shaggy young ogres appeared, an ugly male and an uglier female. Each was twice human height, which was four times goblin height. Goody and Gwenny were barely knee-high on them. "Who you?" the male demanded truculently.

  "Who do you think, meathead?" the parody said.

  Pleased by the compliment, the ogre smiled. The effect was horrendous. "Me think goblin stink."

  "You stink worse, horse hide!"

  Both ogre youths smiled. This was going very well.

  "Let's exchange introductions," Gwenny said. "Me Gwenny Goblin."

  "Me Og Ogret," the boy said.

  "Me Goody Goblin."

  "Me Not-Og Ogret," the girl said.

  "You will soon be able to curdle milk with just a smile," Gwenny said.

  The girl blushed with pleasure. Fleas leaped from her skin as the heat became unbearable.

  "I came to see your mother Okra Ogress," Gwenny said.

  Not-Og turned her head. "Maaawww!" she bellowed.

  In barely a moment an ogress appeared. She was not a whole lot larger than Hannah Barbarian, and hardly ugly enough to impress an ogre. How had she managed to marry an ogre overlord?

  "She kissed him," Gwenny murmured.

  Oh. Of course.

  "Gwenny!" the ogress exclaimed. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

  She wasn't talking like an ogre. What was going on?

  "She's not stupid enough," Gwenny murmured, again answering his thought. Then, to Okra: "We came to see your husband on important business."

  Okra shook her head. "He'll never understand if you talk like that. Maybe you should tell me, and I'll translate for him."

  "That makes sense."

  Okra turned to the ogrets. "Go fetch your father."

  The two lumbered off, jostling each other. "Aren't they darling?" Okra asked. "There's not a trace of intelligence or prettiness in either. Smithereen is so pleased."

  Just as Go-Go was pleased when their children had no trace of politeness. Goody understood.

  "Wonderful," Gwenny said. "They are doing you proud."

  "Come in," Okra said. "You can stand on the table."

  They entered the cave. In the center chamber was a huge table crudely chiseled out of a giant slab of granite. "Smithereen chewed it into shape with his front teeth," Okra said as she lifted them up to its surface. "It took him a whole hour."

  The cave shook as heavy footsteps approached. The ogre male appeared, almost as wide as he was tall, and muscular in proportion. "You give beefcake a bad name," the peeve said.

  "The cake? Me take."

  Okra hastily brought a huge cake. The ogre stuffed it into his mouth.

  "You're so stupid, it's a wonder you remember to breathe!"

  "It's the bird," Goody said. "It talks."

  The Over Ogre focused on the parody. "Me heard. Like bird."

  "Maybe we should let the children play with the bird," Okra said. "We'll never get anything done if it keeps flattering him."

  Goody agreed. He carried the bird to the ogrets. Meanwhile Gwenny walked out to stand directly before Smithereen.

  "Me see goblin she," he said, surprised.

  "It's Gwenny Goblin, Chiefess of Goblin Mountain," Okra said. "Jenny Elf's friend. Remember?"

  He struggled to remember, throwing off more fleas than his daughter had as his head heated with the effort.

  "Lift me up to your ugly face," Gwenny told him.

  The ogre put out a monstrous ham hand. Gwenny sat on it, and he lifted her up for a closer inspection. She leaned forward and kissed him on the horny nose.

  Stunned, he crashed back into the stone chair Okra had providently placed behind him. "Now me remember, little goblin her," he said, dazed.

  "I thought you might," Gwenny said, climbing off his hand as it sank back to the table.

  Goody knew how that was, too.

  Then Gwenny explained about the robots and the need for all the creatures of Xanth to help beat them back. It was a well-turned paragraph.

  "Ogres bash, robots crash," Okra translated.

  Smithereen's smile was so broad that the roaches in the corners fainted and fell to the floor. "Grate fate!"

  "That's 'great fate,'" Okra told them. "He can't spell, of course. It means the ogres will join the effort."

  "Thank you!" Goody said. "Tell them to be at the Iron Mountain tomorrow if they can make it. And not to fight with all the other species that will be there."

  "I will," Okra agreed.

  The parody fluttered to rejoin Goody. "Would you like to stay with the ogrets?" he asked it.

  "Too stupid to be insulted," the peeve said peevishly.

  Goody sighed. Another prospect hadn't worked out.

  14

  Coordination

  Back at the naga landing strip they consulted. "All those troops are going to be converging on Iron Mountain," Hannah said. "Some are natural enemies. It's going to be chaos unless there's someone to organize them."

  "You're right," Gwenny agreed. "But who? None of them are going to take directives from a natural enemy."

  "Ha ha ha! Let the gobs fight the ogs!"

  They ignored the parody, which annoyed it.

  "I can think of someone," Cynthia Centaur said. "Human King Emeritus Magician Trent. He's a manly man with a lot of governing experience and a potent talent. I think he is universally respected by the major species."

  "You've still got half a crush on him," Che chided her.

  "Ooo, kisses and smacks! Do you do it frontwise or rearwise?"

  She nodded, still managing to ignore the peeve. "I suppose I do. But I've got more than half a crush on you, and you return it."

  Che nodded. "I think your idea is viable. He could command the human contingent, and direct the others through their leaders. They would not be giving u
p their independence to the humans, merely coordinating. But he'd need a demon to move him around rapidly, so he could be aware of the big picture."

  "Dad," Vore said. "Demon Professor Grossclout. He's the one who is organizing the demons, and who assigned us to transport you two goblins. Now it's his turn."

  "Oh, let me tell him!" Metria said eagerly.

  Vore looked at her. "You'd flash your polka-dot panties with the empty dots at him and do your best to annoy him."

  "Yes! Let me do it." She flicked her skirt, showing a dot. Goody barely managed to avert his eyes in time.

  "I will do it." Vore vanished.

  Metria glanced at the parody. "Come here a moment, bird." It obligingly fluttered across to perch on her shoulder. "Bleepity bleep ka-bleep!" her voice swore, browning the nearby foliage. The bird returned to Goody, its job done.

  "My job is to guard Goody," Hannah said. "But I can't do that if you demons are transporting him and Gwenny to places I can't go."

  "You should go too," Gwenny agreed. "He'll be no good to me if he gets skewered by a robot. Is there a demon we can trust to transport you?"

  "Dara," Metria said, perking up. "Magician Humfrey's first wife. She's off duty now, so is available. She has a bit of a soul, so can be trusted. And she won't feel you up the way I do Goody."

  "You what?" Gwenny asked sharply.

  "Caress, fondle, cuddle, massage, goose—"

  "You do not!" Goody protested.

  "Pet?" the parody asked.

  "Whatever," Metria agreed, not very crossly. "I'll go fetch her. If I have to be stuck with this chore, she does too." She popped out.

  Gwenny faced Goody. "And Vore has not been handling me, either. They're both married, you know."

  "Married? I did suspect," Nada said with half a smile.

  The children and bird laughed. "Dad doesn't even get it on with Metria," Monica said. "Mom's such a spoilsport."

  "Fortunately those two demons don't really like each other," Nada agreed.

  It occurred to Goody that the half-demon children liked to flirt with violations of the Adult Conspiracy. They probably knew more about it than they let on. Their parents seemed remarkably tolerant. They probably had to be.