Geis of the Gargoyle (4 page)

Gary bounded to a halt.
 
"Hello, sir warrior," he said politely.
 
He understood that human folk liked to be given tides, and since it cost him nothing to humor their foibles, he did so.

The figure paused and turned to him.
 
"Don't 'sir' me!" it snapped.
 
"I'm not a man."

Gary was somewhat set back.
 
"I apologize," he said contritely.
 
"I took you for human."

"I am human," she said, straightening into a warlike pose.
 
He saw that her metallic armor was curved in front in a manner reminiscent of Mentia's decolletage, when the demoness remembered to have one.
 
This did suggest the figure was female.
 
"I'm Hannah Barbarian, and if you were a smart-mouthed man I'd cut off three of your legs as readily as I do these hurry canes."

"Hurry canes?"

"They are used as walking canes," she said aggressively.
 
"But they make you rush.
 
I'm sure they're useful, but they're hard to hang on to." Indeed, the one she had just cut was whipping around as if trying to escape her grip, and the trussed bundle of them was hopping on the ground, eager to go somewhere.

"Perhaps I could help you accomplish your task," Gary said.

This seemed to make her angrier.
 
"I don't need any male's help! Now get out of here before I forget myself and practice something feministic on you." The cane in her hand whirled menacingly.

Gary hastily bounded on.
 
He had heard that human females were sweet and soft, but evidently he had been misinformed.
 
Perhaps this was another detail the demoness hadn't mentioned.

The path curved around and brought him to the drawbridge.
 
Two young human men stood before it.
 
Gary bounded to another stop.
 
"Hello," he said, carefully omitting the "sir" so as not to annoy anyone.

The two eyed him sourly.
 
"Hello yourself," one said sharply.
 
"You are a horrendously ugly creature," the other said candidly.

"Thank you," Gary replied.
 
He realized that humans liked compliments, so he offered one in return: "You're not exactly handsome yourself." He was stretching a point, as the man was far from the gargoyle standard of ugliness, but social nicety seemed to require it.

The second man grimaced.
 
"Perhaps we should introduce ourselves.
 
I am Frank.
 
He is Curt."

"I am Gary," Gary said.

"That is not the most original name," Frank said directly.

"He's an animal," Curt said brusquely.

"All true," Gary agreed innocently.
 
"Now if you will step aside, I would like to cross that drawbridge."

"Not a chance," Curt said tersely.

"I must inform you straightforwardly that we are here to prevent you from trespassing," Frank said openly.

"But I need to see the Good Magician," Gary said perplexedly.

"Tough," Curt said shortly.

"Perhaps you don't understand," Frank said forthrightly.
 
'This is a challenge."

"Oh," Gary said naively.
 
"I hadn't realized."

"Perhaps because you are not very intelligent," Frank said boldly.

"You're ignorant," Curt said bluntly.

"I surely am," Gary agreed, bemused.
 
He realized that these two had a job to do, and that his own job was to get them out of his way.
 
He could simply barge on through, knocking them into the stinking muck of the moat, but though his hide was stone, his heart was soft, and he couldn't bring himself to do that.
 
So he turned away, pondering alternatives.

"What a clod," Curt remarked gruffly.

"They do not produce challengers the way they used to," Frank agreed freely.

Gary wandered on around the moat.
 
The path gave up after a few paces, evidently tired.
 
Gary had to stop lest he step on some T-shaped plants grouped in conic formations, bearing what looked like peas.
 
He picked a ripe pea and put it in his mouth.
 
It turned instantly to fluid.
 
It was tea!

These were tea peas.

However, this didn't help him cross the moat.
 
He still didn't want to wade through the muck, so he turned his tail on the tea-pea patch and returned to the drawbridge.
 
"Are you sure you won't let me cross peaceably?" he inquired artlessly.

"Absolutely," Curt replied abruptly.

"It is not in our job description," Frank replied openly.

Gary still didn't want to act in a nasty manner, so he followed the path back to the cane.
 
There was a wind rising there now, with gusts becoming quite stiff.
 
The canes swayed, looking as if they wished they could hurry elsewhere.

Hannah was worse off.
 
Her militantly coifed hair was getting blown all askew, and her amazonian skirt was flapping so badly as to show her stiff knees.
 
She did not look particularly pleased.

"Hello," Gary said hesitantly.

She whirled on him, a straggling cane in each hand.
 
"You again? What do you want?"

"Nothing," he said cautiously.
 
"It's just that I discovered a patch of tea peas.
 
Maybe if you drank some of them you would feel better."

Hannah paused in mid-whirl.
 
"Maybe you're right, monster.
 
I am thoroughly thirsty from this windy work.

Where is that patch?"

"Down this path to the drawbridge, and turn right.
 
You can't miss it."

She eyed him.
 
"Where are you going now?"

Gary shrugged.
 
"I don't seem to have what it takes to get into the Good Magician's castle, so perhaps I'll go home, if I can find the way.
 
But I'm still willing to help you gather some cane, if there is any way I can be useful."

"You're not exactly a typical male," she remarked.

"I haven't had much practice," he confessed.
 
"I have worked alone all my life."

Hannah seemed almost unmilitant for half an instant, though this was probably a misinterpretation of her mood.
 
"I know the feeling.
 
Stick around, gargoyle.
 
Maybe I will accept your help, after I take some tea." She marched off along the path.

Gary shrugged and followed.
 
He was hoping that he would figure out some way to cross the moat, because he didn't like giving up, and also was not unduly eager to try to cross the larger ditch known as the Gap Chasm without having something to show for his excursion.

Hannah came into sight of the drawbridge.
 
There were Prank and Curt.

"Look!" Curt cried briefly.
 
"A tart!"

"That is one messed-up girl," Frank said in an up-front manner.
 
"She's wearing a ridiculous military outfit, carrying some kind of clumsy stick, and her hair resembles a dismembered mop."

"Now there's a pair of typical jacks," Hannah exclaimed.
 
"How fortunate that I was already angry." She strode forward, wielding her cane.
 
"I never did take any guff from cartoon characters."

"What's up, sweetie?" Curt inquired in a sexist way.

"You intrigue us, darling," Frank said.
 
"I wonder whether under that metallic skirt you wear a pair of-"

Then Hannah caught up to them.
 
There were two thunks and a sudden splash, as of bags of rocks falling into mud.
 
It was all over in an eye-blink, and by the time Gary finished blinking, the barbarian woman was on her way to the pea patch and the drawbridge was empty.

Gary realized that he had inadvertently made an opportunity for himself.
 
Hannah, who was not particularly softhearted about obnoxious men, had done the job Gary had shied away from.
 
So he might as well cross the drawbridge while he had the chance.

But as he bounded to it, another figure appeared.
 
It looked human, but was faintly glowing.
 
And it barred the way.
 
"Are you another challenge?" Gary inquired as he came to a stop.

"I am indeed! I am Piera.
 
My talent is the control of fire." She lifted her hands, tossing a ball of fire between them.
 
"If you try to pass, I will bum you."

"Fire," he said, impressed.
 
"I've never met anyone who wasn't a salamander who could do that."

"My brother Fiero's just as hot as I am, and together we are even hotter," she said proudly.
 
"We're Xanth's hottest act."

Gary couldn't be hurt by fire any more than by thorns or teeth, but he didn't want to have to dump a nice human woman like Fiera into the muck, so he retreated.
 
This time he found a path circling the moat in the other direction.
 
In a moment it debouched into a little circle of glassy stones.
 
In the middle of the circle was a big feather.
 
He picked it up so that it wouldn't get stepped on, for it was a pretty feather.
 
Then he wasn't sure what to do with it, because it could get blown into the path again and get stepped on after he left.
 
So he tucked it into the rock wool between his horns for safekeeping.
 
When he found someone who appreciated pretty feathers, he would give it to that person.

Then he saw that one of the glassy stones had fallen out of the circle, perhaps having been blown over by the wind.
 
He tried to move it back into place with his paws, but it splashed.
 
Astonished, he jumped back-and it sagged and started slopping onto the ground.
 
It was actually a container of water!

He couldn't just let it pour out.
 
After all there was a drought, and water was precious.
 
So he returned and tried to shape it up with his paws, but it still slopped.
 
The sides of it were bendy, and there was a hole in the top, so that as it sat it sagged, and as it sagged it flowed.
 
It was probably his fault; he must have inadvertently knocked it over, and now it was no longer tight.
 
What to do?

He put his mouth to the edge and caught the side of it between his teeth.
 
He bit down gently, only hard enough to be able to catch hold and pull it up.
 
That stopped the leaking.
 
But the moment he tried to let go, it sagged again.
 
He couldn't let it go without mining it.

Maybe Fiera would know what to do.
 
She was part of this situation, after all.
 
So he set his teeth carefully into the rock and slowly dragged it down the path, making sure that no more water spilled.

"What are you doing with that quartz?" Fiera demanded when he reached the drawbridge.

"Quartz?" he asked blankly.
 
As he did so, his teeth let go of the rock, and it began to sag and leak again.
 
He snapped at it, trying to stop the spillage, but couldn't get a proper hold.