Jumper Cable (14 page)

Something rattled, startling them. It looked like a snake, with a bulbous tail. This was what was rattling.

“Oh, that’s just a rattler,” Wenda said. “A baby ogre’s first toy.”

“That’s a relief,” Phanta said as it slithered away. Then in the jungle

rose a crudely twisted wickerwork mansion

formed from woven trees. From its vicinity came odd sounds, as if several bovine creatures were being tortured. They approached somewhat ner vous ly, and Haughty flew up to take an advance look.

“No problem,” she reported. “It’s just moosic.”

“Are yew parodying my pronunciation?” Wenda demanded.

“Not at all, blockhead. They’re cows.”

They came to an outdoor theater where a grizzled ogre and a fading

nymph were seated on pulped boulders, listening to the serenade. A cow was singing an aria, accompanied by a small orchestra of little crabs. They had tiny violins and bows and played very well, though the cow’s voice tended to drown them out. Then five other cows joined in for the refrain, and the crabs were completely submerged. They accepted it with poor grace; in fact they were crabby. The serenade ended and cows and crabs departed. Now the nymph turned and saw the visitors. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Seven lovely nymphly damsels to see me, and a gross ugly spider to see you, Smash.”

“Me see,” the ogre agreed. He was wearing some kind of white stuff on his head.

“Will you girls join me for a jelly sandwich? The bread is from a nice breadfruit tree, and the jelly from the finest jellyfish. I am Tandy, Smash’s wife. That’s an ice cap on his head; it helps keep it cool when he tries to think, which isn’t often, fortunately. We don’t get many visitors in our dotage.”

The girls introduced themselves to Tandy, while Jumper approached the ogre. “I am Jumper Spider. I—”

“He wend, Dor’s friend!” Smash exclaimed.

“Uh, no. He’s my distant ancestor. But I know he thought highly of you, Smash. You helped Prince Dor when he was young, and Jumper appreciated that.”

“He talk, me balk.” He meant that Jumper was talking, but Smash wasn’t impressed.

“Come off the two-bit doggerel, ogre,” Jumper snapped, clicking his mandibles. “I know you can talk as well as I can, and you don’t need a gift of tongues. I’m just about as strong and ugly as you are, and probably not as smart. Ogres may be justly proud of their stupidity, but you’re only half ogre, thanks to your father Crunch’s dalliance with a Curse Fiend. We have serious business to discuss.”

“Oh, you know,” Smash said, not annoyed. “That’s different. Why are you here?”

“The Good Magician mentioned a Prophecy that sounds more like advice: emulate the ogre. At least that was the way he translated part of it. We think you must be the ogre, so we need to know what to emulate.”

Smash scratched his head, concentrating. The ice cap melted, and several fleas leaped off as his brain heated. “I don’t know that Prophecy. I just did what I had to do.”

“You accompanied and protected seven assorted maidens, and married one of them. I have seven maidens, but doubt I’ll marry any. You impressed the Night Stallion. I doubt I could do that. You were true to your mission, what ever it was. I will try to emulate that. Do you have any advice or insights I lack?”

Smash shook his head, and more fleas were flung off. “I can’t think of any. But maybe Tandy can.” He called to his wife, who was sharing T

& jelly with the others. “Hey, girl! Give whirl.”

“Don’t let him bullspit you, Smash,” Tandy called back. “You helped all seven maidens achieve good lives. You explored the gourd realm, spooking the horrors, and when the Night Stallion tempted you to take over as the Night Ogre, you turned him down. You’re the most constant creature imaginable, and I love you.” She returned to her dialogue with the girls.

“That’s a good recommendation,” Jumper acknowledged.

“But I can’t think what aspect of it applies to you,” Smash said. “Exactly what is your mission?”

“To repair the broken cable that connects the Mundane Internet with the magic Outernet. It seems the Dwarf Demon Pluto severed it, and may not want it restored. So we anticipate some interference. But that does not seem very similar to your experience.”

“True,” Smash agreed. “I never went up against a Demon, not even a dwarf one. I fear your mission is hopeless.”

“I can’t accept that,” Jumper said. “I just need to find the way to complete it, so I can go home.”

“You’re ogre-headed!” Smash exclaimed, pleased.

“I suppose I am. But does that fulfill the Prophecy?”

Smash shook his shaggy head. “Maybe so. No know. I’ve been too distracted by another riddle.”

“Another?”

“I will quote it: How much okra would an ocher ogre ogle if an ocher ogre could ogle okra?”

Jumper shrugged with all eight limbs, and answered off the top, and a bit to the side, of his head. “I would say that an ocher ogre would ogle what an ocher ogre could ogle if an ocher ogre could ogle okra.”

“That’s it!” Smash exclaimed, astonished. “But of course I can’t ogle Okra Ogre because my wife would get jealous.”

“Okra is an ogre?” Jumper asked, surprised.

“Yes. She married Smithereen Ogre.”

This was crazier than Jumper had realized. “I assumed okra was a vegetable.”

“That too,” Smash agreed.

“Alert!” Haughty called from above. “Something’s coming.” She glided back to the ground.

They looked. A flock of ten birds was approaching. Or were they? Jumper oriented several eyes on them and got a clearer picture. “Those are not birds. They are winged humans. No, they have dragon heads.”

“Drakin!” Dawn said. “Humanoid dragons. All they do is hunt and fight. This can’t be a friendly visit.”

“Who would dare raid an ogre’s den?” Eve asked.

“I think we don’t have time to discuss it,” Tandy said. “Let’s hope they are friendly. If not, we’ll have to stop them.”

Jumper was still focusing on them. “They are watching us,” he said.

“One of them is focusing on each of us. That is, one on me, one on Smash, one on Haughty, and so on. They are breathing fire.”

“That’s war,” Dawn said. “Dragons who come in peace keep their fire, smoke or steam suppressed. It’s protocol.”

“Then we had better or ga nize,” Jumper said grimly. “Form partnerships: one strong person with one weak one, to protect her.” He glanced around. “Wenda— to me.”

The woodwife didn’t question it. As a fully fleshed nymph she wasn’t strong, and even as a wood nymph she might have caught fire. She ran to join Jumper, her hair flinging back. Then the first of the drakin arrived. The dragon-headed winged man folded his wings, which seemed to grow smaller, and dived at Jumper. Jumper spun, formed, and threw a loop of webbing. It circled the drakin’s head and drew tight around his neck. Jumper jerked, and the

drakin fell out of the air, his jet of fire going astray. Jumper threw three more sticky strands over him and trussed him up with a few expert twitches of his legs. This one was finished.

But another was still closing on Wenda, dragon mouth opening.

“Dodge!” Jumper said. She did, and the blast of flame missed. Jumper threw a loop about his neck, hauled him down, and in half a moment had him similarly trussed up and helpless. Two down. Meanwhile another eye was covering Smash and Tandy. Two drakins were revving up, about to send out blasts of flame. Smash simply picked up a head-sized rock and hurled it with such force it knocked his drakin out of the sky before it got close. It landed on its back, its fire going poof and expiring. Tandy made a throwing motion, but there was nothing there. Yet her drakin reacted as if struck by something, and also fell out of the sky, its fire making crazy patterns in the air. What had happened?

Then Jumper remembered: Tandy’s talent was throwing a tantrum. She must have thrown one at the drakin, and it had scored, taking it out. Another eye saw Haughty and Phanta team up. They conferred hastily, then Haughty hopped onto Phanta’s cupped hands and deposited— an egg! Phanta took that egg and threw it at one of the two drakins approaching. It struck and exploded, blowing one more creature out of the sky. An explosive egg! Jumper had not realized the harpies could do that.

The other drakin smacked right into Phanta— and passed through her. She had ghosted, giving it no substance to strike. It crashed into the ground, where Haughty pounced, clamping her sharp dirty claws on its head. “Move, and I squeeze,” she said. The drakin had the sense not to move.

The next team was Olive and Maeve. Olive summoned an imaginary friend who turned out to be something like a de mon ess, remarkably shapely. “I am C Duce the cemoness,” she announced. “Not an amoness, bemoness, de mon ess, or eemoness, but a cemoness. Look on my works, yet mighty, and despair.” She inhaled as she turned, her clothing puffing into vapor.

The drakin’s eyeballs glazed, blinding it. It lost direction and plowed

into a tree trunk. The trunk, annoyed, swung open a lid, took the drakin in, and slammed closed. The creature was now securely locked in the trunk. C Duce had seduced it into oblivion.

Maeve was somewhat less subtle. She leaped to intercept the drakin before it oriented its fire. She caught hold of its head and put her mouth to its snout as though about to kiss it. But she didn’t kiss, she bit. In fact she chomped a jagged piece out of its face. Its fire exploded within its head, almost blowing it apart. The head ballooned, then snapped back together— just in time for the maenad to take another bite. The drakin jerked back, leaving a smoldering chunk of flesh behind, and fled. That left the two princesses. Jumper suspected they could handle themselves. Indeed they did: as the two drakins charged, Dawn ripped open her shirt to flash her bra, and Eve hoisted her skirt to flash her pan ties. The two drakins froze in midair, freaked out. They were, after all, humanoid males.

As suddenly as it had begun, the battle was done. All the drakins had been nullified.

Now they had time to reflect. “Why did they attack us?” Jumper asked. “We were no threat to them. All they needed to do was leave us alone.”

“And it was too easy a victory,” Tandy said. “None of us were hurt, though they are dangerous creatures. Surely they could have scorched a few of us.”

“This bears investigation,” Dawn said. She approached the one she had stunned with her bra, reaching out to touch its hide. In half a moment she would know all about it. But the drakin puffed into smoke and dissipated before she made contact. So did its companion, stunned by Eve.

“I have two trussed up,” Jumper said.

“Thank you.” Dawn approached them. But they too puffed away before she could touch them.

“This becomes curious,” Olive remarked to no one in par tic u lar.

“I’ve got one,” Haughty said. But then hers too dissipated, leaving her clutching the head of nothing.

“We have one locked in a trunk,” Olive said. But even as she spoke,

they saw a wisp of mist seep out of a crack in the wood. That one, too, had vaporized.

“I have a chunk in my mouth,” Maeve said, taking it out. But as she did so, it faded and vanished.

“It seems they weren’t made to last,” Phanta said.

“Or to be questioned,” Wenda said. “Even magically.”

“It is most curious,” Haughty said. “They seemed so vicious, with each one attacking one of us, but none of them actually hurting us. Had they ganged up on any one or two of us, they could have taken us out before we could stop them. So this wasn’t a very good plan of attack.”

“It had more drama than substance,” Eve agreed. They looked at the ogre, who hadn’t spoken. “He scare, beware,” he said in stupid ogre talk.

Or was it stupid? “It was meant to scare us, not to hurt us,” Jumper said. “To warn us.”

“Warn us about what?” Tandy asked.

“About our mission. This has to be from Demon Pluto. To stop us from pursuing our mission. The Good Magician warned us about that.”

“But a foreign demon can’t interfere in Demon Xanth’s territory,”

Tandy protested. “It’s against Demon protocol.”

“Not directly,” Princess Dawn said. “But the Demons aren’t bound by mortal ethics. They interfere in each other’s business all the time, surreptitiously. Then when they get caught, they suffer loss of status.”

“Which Pluto already has suffered,” Eve said. “So maybe he doesn’t have much to lose. But he can do a lot indirectly. Like persuading the drakin to raid us. He wanted us to catch on, and to be wary, because next time the attack might not be token but real.”

“It can’t be real,” Olive said. “That would violate the Demon pact. He can scare us or trick us, but not actually hurt us.”

“Unless he is desperate enough to cheat,” Haughty pointed out.

“That does make me ner vous,” Phanta confessed. “But not ner vous enough to quit. I like having my imaginary friends be as durable as I choose.”

“And I like having a full body,” Wenda said. “In my natural state I

can knot freak any man out with my pan ties, because I dew knot have a bottom to mount them on.”

“And I still want to get home,” Jumper said. “Still, it would not be fair to make people participate where there is serious risk.”

“We all have to do it, or none of us can,” Dawn reminded them.

“So let’s vote,” Eve said. “Who wants to quit?”

There was a silence.

“Does this mean that all of you want to continue with the mission?”

Jumper asked.

“Yes,” they chorused.

“Then it seems we are united,” Olive said.

“But we still don’t understand the Prophecy,” Jumper reminded them. “Even the Good Magician had to guess, because of the Demon involvement. We don’t even know what we need to learn from the ogre.”

“Yes, you do,” Tandy said. “That you are oink-headed enough to keep going despite a clear warning. That’s the way Smash is, bless him.” She kissed Smash on his hairy ear.

That, it seemed, would have to do.