Harpy Thyme (36 page)

Now it was safe to look at the others. Nervous in retrospect about the damage she could have done, she was relieved.

More time must have passed than she had realized. The trans-plant was withdrawing its needles. She went to Graeboe. “How do you feel?” she asked anxiously.

He looked surprised. “Better. I feel the new marrow taking hold, revitalizing my blood. I think it will be a while before I am completely restored, but surely it is happening.” He paused, glancing at the skeleton. “There is something I must do now. Help me up.”

She put her arm around his shoulders and helped him stand. He did seem stronger, though still weak. Some magic was not instantaneous, but that did not lessen its value. He walked unsteadily across to Marrow. “You have given me life. Take half my soul.” He extended his hand.

The skeleton reached down to clasp the flesh-hand in his bone-hand. “Now I will accept it,” he said.

The hands touched. There was a glow. Gloha, in contact with Graeboe, felt an eerie thinning or separation, not painful, just uneasy. It was his soul fissioning.

Then their hands separated. Graeboe tottered, weakened again, and Gloha quickly supported him. Marrow fell back against the wall. “Oh!” he said in wonder.

Metria appeared. “Now you know what I feel like.”

“I believe I do,” Marrow said. “It is wonderful yet frightening.”

“Exactly,” the demoness agreed. She stepped in to kiss him on the fleshless mouth. “But you do get used to it, gradually. Especially if you have a friend.”

“He has friends,” Gloha said. Graeboe nodded agreement.

Trent turned to the slowmud. “You have been most helpful,” he said. “I think that any inconvenience you may have caused us has been ameliorated.” Then Veleno was standing in his natural form.

“Yes!” Gloha agreed. “You risked your life to bring Graeboe here. I shall always be grateful.” And she emulated Metria, flying up to plant a kiss on his surprised face.

“Now I think we had better get out of here before Pin-A-Tuba fields another ploy to dispatch us,” Trent said. He went to the edge of the grotto and looked down. “I think we can't depart the way we came; the poison goo is all around.”

“You could change me to a roc bird,” Gloha said. “So I can carry the rest of you out.”

“No, the volcano is alert for that. He's putting out hot rocks to set fire to feathers.”

Gloha looked out. Pin-A-Tuba was sending a barrage of burning ashes into the air, furious that the party had won its way to the trans-plant. Lava and poison were strewn all across the ground. Their prospects for escape did look bleak.

Graeboe joined her. “I mink I could make it out,” he said. “In my natural form, invisible. I could step on the clean ridges, and be away before the volcano knows what is happening.”

“Then by all means go,” Gloha said. “The rest of us will follow when we are able.”

“No. If I am able to do it, then we all are; I will carry you. You should be invisible too, if I curl my fingers around you.”

“But you aren't invisible any more,” Marrow reminded him. “And you are weakened by losing half your soul. I should not have taken it yet.”

“I should be invisible when healthy. I am weak now, but healthy. And if I carry you, my soul will be reunited for that time. It might be a harrowing ride for you, but I believe I could do it. My natural body is familiar to me, and I should be able to keep my balance and step well.”

Gloha looked at Trent. “Do you think-?”

The Magician nodded. “If he believes he can do it, he probably can. But it would be better to wait for him to recover more of his strength.”

“I think not,” Marrow said. “I believe I hear the scritching of nickelpedes.”

“Nickelpedes!” Gloha cried in horror. “We can't stay here if they're coming. There'll be too many for Trent to transform, and they'll gouge out nickel-sized chunks of our flesh.”

“Yes. I shall try to toss out as many as I can, but I fear a swarm.”

Indeed, now they all could hear the scritching coming from deep inside the cave. As the mountain's creatures, the nickelpedes would not bother the trans-plant, but they would soon strip the flesh from any fleshly creatures they could get at. Gloha could become a basilisk again, but wouldn't be very effective against the antennae of creatures who were more interested in chomping than in looking. Pin-A-Tuba had found something they could not readily nullify.

Graeboe stood at the brink of the cave and extended his right hand toward Gloha. “All of you take hold of my fingers,” he said. “Then transform me, Magician. I will try to hold you gently."

The offer would have been laughable if they had not understood what was about to happen, because the elf had the smallest hands of any of them. Gloha extended her hand to touch his tiny little finger; Marrow touched his next finger, Veleno his middle finger, Metria his forefinger, and Trent his thumb.

Suddenly Graeboe was gone. But the hand was there, incomparably larger-and invisible. Only their touches on the massive fingers gave them assurance.

Immediately they were scrambling up. Gloha had no trouble; she spread her wings and half flew to the top of the finger she was on. Marrow wrapped his skeletal arms around his finger. But Veleno and Trent were having problems. The nickelpedes were bursting into view, a swarming tide of them, pincers leading.

Metria fogged out. She reappeared behind Veleno in the form of an ogress. “Get up there, my love,” she said, boosting him head over heels into the hand. Gloha saw him roll across the invisible surface and come to rest, bemused. “And you, Magician,” she added, heaving Trent up similarly. Then she puffed into smoke just as the first nickelpede snapped at her feet.

The hand closed, carefully. They all tumbled together in the palm, held by loosely clenching fingers.

The hand lifted. Gloha righted herself and peered out between or through the invisible fingers. They were swinging way up through the air and the burning ashes, but they were protected by the giant's flesh.

Now the giant was tramping away from the mountain. Gloha saw a ridge squish flat, and a cleft fill in as if pressed by a phenomenal weight. Their speed was remarkable, for Graeboe was taking giant steps and not dawdling.

There was a sound behind: “OOMPAH!” Mount Pin-A-Tuba was venting his absolute rage at their escape. Such a torrent of material shot out of his cone that it was likely to cool Xanth another degree before it settled out. There were fiery boulders too, arcing down to fall all around them. But they were already getting safely out of range. They had made it!

The pace slowed. The giant stopped at a nice glade and brought his hand down so they could dismount. Then Trent faced the region where Graeboe stood. “What form would you like to assume now?” he called.

“I-” the giant's voice came. “I'm falling!”

Trent leaped for the hand. Then a naked winged goblin man was there, falling forward. Trent caught him. Had he not made the transformation, the giant might have fallen on the rest of them.

“Graeboe!” Gloha cried. “What's the matter?”

Then she saw for herself. His body was covered with terrible burns. He had been shielding them from that barrage, taking the burns without complaint. But he had been weak from his recent malady, and this had added intolerably to his burden.

Gloha whipped out her handkerchief. It had a bit of healing elixir in it. She needed all of it now. She dabbed it on Graeboe's burns and blisters, and they healed. When she ran out of dabs of elixir, she kissed the spots instead, and this seemed to work almost as well. “Oh my darling,” she breathed as she worked. “You never said! You were getting all burned, protecting us-”

Trent had been holding Graeboe up, but Gloha's ministrations were rapidly restoring him, so Trent moved clear. Suddenly she realized that the ex-giant was not wearing anything. She moved to shield him from embarrassment- and suddenly was in his arms. They kissed.

After her head stopped spinning, Gloha drew back. “Of course you can be a giant if you really prefer. I never sought to-”

“I am getting healthier by the moment,” Graeboe said. “Either get me some clothing, or take off yours.”

The others laughed. Metria appeared with some clothing she had scrounged from somewhere. Soon Graeboe was decent.

But Gloha's trace of guilt remained. “You never asked me to become a giantess for you. I don't think it's right to make you change for me. So if you have any second or third thoughts-”

“Hold the tableau,” the demoness said, and vanished.

“What's she up to?” Trent asked.

“Something nice, I'm sure,” Veleno said. “She's a wonderful woman.”

Gloha decided not to debate that, so she changed the subject. “I think I know what Graeboe and I will be doing,” she said. “Also Veleno and Metria. Marrow will go home with his half soul to his family and share it with them. So all our quests have been accomplished. But what of you, Magician Trent? Are you going to fade out now?”

Trent looked thoughtful. “I must say I had forgotten how exhilarating youthful adventure could be. I believe I'll keep my youth for a while longer, and tell my wife to try it too. I think it is not yet time to fade out.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Gloha said. She was understating the case, but didn't think it appropriate to say more.

Then the demoness reappeared. She handed Graeboe a mirror.

“What's this for?” he asked.

“It's a magic mirror the goblins liberated from a storehouse by Miracle Lake,” Metria explained with a hint of the old mischief. “They said you should have it as a wedding present, and I think it's ideal. It will tell you anything your beloved seeks to hide. She'll have no secrets from you. You won't even need to ask her; just ask the mirror. Any private feelings, any doubts, any misgivings will be mercilessly revealed.”

Graeboe nodded, unconcerned. “It's for you, my love,” he said, handing it to Gloha. “Have a harpy time.”