XANTH




Chapter 1. Quest

Grundy Golem stretched and bounced off his
cushion. He looked at himself in the mirror, not totally
pleased. He stood the height of a normal man's spread-
fingered hand, and that was fine for sleeping on a cushion
but not all that great when it came to making an impression
on the Land of Xanth.

It was a nice new day. Almost, he was able to forget
that he was the least significant of living creatures. When
he had been a true golem fashioned of wood and rag he
had longed to be a real living thing, supposing that he
would be satisfied if only he could become flesh. At last
he had won that goal and for a time he had believed that
he was happy. But slowly the truth had sunk in: he was
still only a handsbreadth greater than nothing.

No one took him seriously. They thought he had a
smart mouth because he liked insulting people; actually
it was because he was trying desperately to cover over
his deepening awareness of his own inadequacy. When
he used his talent of language to make some other person
or creature feel low, he felt a little higher himself—for a
moment. But now he knew that this was a false device,
and that his mouth had mainly brought him the contempt
of others. He wished he could undo that damage and make




2                   Golem in the Gear*

of himself a genuinely worthwhile and respected person—
but he didn't know how.

Meanwhile, he was hungry. That was a consequence
of being real: he had to eat. It hadn't been that way when
he had been a true golem. Then he had suffered no hunger,
pain, or calls of nature. But he liked it better this way,
he decided, because he also felt living pleasures.

And living miseries...

He slid down the banister and scrambled out the win-
dow that was normally left open for him. He landed in a
clump of toadstools that had sprung up overnight, knock-
ing several over. Unfortunately, a small toad had been
sitting on one.

"Clumsy oaf!" the toad croaked, righting himself.
"Watch where you're going!"

"Listen, frogface," Grundy retorted. "This is my path!
You have no business here."

"I was on a toadstool, as I have a perfect right to be,"
the toad protested. "You just came barging through!"

The creature had a case, but Grundy didn't care. His
irritation with the situation—and with all ot Xanth—
caused him to react in the familiar way that he wished he
didn't. "Know what I think of that? I'll bash all these
stinky things to smithereens!" And he grabbed up a stick
and laid about him, knocking over toadstools right and
left. Grundy was no giant, but they stood only about knee-
high to him, and were easy to dispatch.

"Help!" the toad croaked. "Berserker on the loose!"

Suddenly there was a stirring throughout the weedy
region beside the castle wall. Toads appeared, hopping in
toward the summons—small ones at first, then larger ones,
and finally one huge one.

Grundy realized he was in trouble. He tried to scramble
up to the window, but the monster toad opened his pon-

Golem in the Gears                   3

derous maw and speared the golem with his tongue. The
tongue was sticky; Grundy could not get free. The toad
retracted it and hauled Grundy in.

"Eat him! Eat him!" the massed toads cried. "Teach
him to leave toadstools alone!"

Grundy clutched at a half-buried rock, managing to
halt his progress toward the maw. But now the little toads
hopped on him, pounding him with their feet, and one of
them wet on him.

Disgusted as well as frightened, he grabbed that toad
and heaved it into the maw of the giant toad. The maw
closed. The tongue released Grundy and snapped back
home. Evidently the giant toad didn't mind what he ate.

But the little toads minded. "Get that monster!" they
croaked, and snapped at him with their tongues. They
couldn't do him much damage singly, but as a group
they might. He tried to dodge the snapping tongues, but
there were too many.

In addition, the giant toad was catching on that it hadn't
eaten the whole thing. It reoriented on him.

Then Grundy spied a hypnogourd. That might help!
He ran to it and dived behind it, so that its peephole was
facing away from him and toward the toads. As the giant
toad opened its maw and lined up its terrible tongue,
Grundy shoved the gourd around so that the peephole
bore directly on it.

The big toad looked—and froze. Its gaze had been
trapped by the gourd.

"So there, filth-tongue!" he cried. "Now you're stuck!"

But the little toads weren't stuck. They averted their
gazes and came leaping at him. One landed on his head,
bearing it down. Grundy shook the creature off, but in
the process caught a glimpse of the peephole himself.

Suddenly he found himself inside the gourd. He was

4                    Oolem in the Gears

standing amidst giant wooden gears. The huge toad was
there too, and had a leg caught between two of them. The
gears were drawing it slowly but inevitably between them,
crushing it.

"Halp!" it cried. "I'm gonna croak!"

"Well, you were gonna eat me!" Grundy retorted. But
he didn't like this; it was too ugly a demise.

He tried to pry the toad out, but the gears were too
strong. Then he saw a small, loose gear. He picked it up
and jammed it next to the toad's leg. As the two turning
gears ground together, the loose one was crunched. In a
moment the moving ones shuddered to a stop.

Now a huge stallion appeared, virtually snorting fire.
His hide was midnight black, and his eyes glinted blacker.
"I should have known!" the Night Stallion snorted. "A
golem in the gears!" There was a subtle flicker.

Then Grundy and the giant toad were back in the real
world, out of the gourd. Grundy realized that they had
been ejected. The big toad's leg was whole, but it seemed
to have lost its appetite.

Grundy realized that he had suffered the ultimate
indignity: he had been rejected by the hypnogourd! No
one had any use for him!

He scrambled again for the window, and this time made
it. Fouled with the sticky spittle of the giant and the wet-
ting of the midget, he fell inside. What a mess!

But worse than the ignominy of his present condition
was his realization that he was of so little account that
even a toad could humiliate him. It wasn't just a matter
of size; it was an almost total lack of respect. He was a
nobody, socially as well as physically.

What use was it to be a living creature, if he was of
absolutely no consequence?

He found a bucket of wash water left over from yes-

Golem in the Gears                   5

terday's scrubbing of a floor, and labored to get himself
clean. While he worked, he came to a conclusion, an
answer to his question.

It was no use to live without respect. But what could
he do about it? He was what he was, an insignificant
creature.

As he ran across the room, he heard stifled sobbing.
He paused, for now he also cared about others. He was
seldom able to show it in ways they appreciated, but he
did care. He looked about and discovered that it was a
plant—a small green stem that looked rather wilted.
Grundy's magic talent was the ability to converse with
other living things, so he talked to the plant.

"What's the matter with you, greenface?"

"I'm w-wilting!" the plant responded.

"I can see that, potroot. Why?"

"Because Ivy forgot to w-water me," the plant blub-
bered. "She's so wrapped up with her mischief that—"
It tried to squeeze out another tear, but could not; it had
no water left.

Grundy went to the bathroom, climbed up on the sink
and grabbed the damp sponge there. He hauled this down,
dragged it across the floor, and to the plant. Then he
hefted it up and squeezed it in a bear hug, so that water
dribbled into the pot.

"Oh, thank you!" the plant exclaimed as it drank in
the moisture. "How can I ever repay you?"

Grundy was as selfish as the next creature, but he
didn't see any way the plant could do anything for him,
so he elected to be generous. "Always glad to help a fellow
creature," he said. "I'll tell Ivy to give you a good water-
ing. What's she doing that's so distracting?"

"I'm not supposed to tell..." the plant demurred.




6                   Golem in the Gears

Now Grundy saw what the plant could do for him.
"Didn't I just do you a favor, wiltleaf?"

The plant sighed. "Don't tell I told. Ivy's a terror when
she gets mad."

Grundy well knew that! Ivy was eight years old and a
full Sorceress; no one crossed her without regretting it.
"I won't tell."

"She's teaching Dolph to be a bird, so he can fly out
and look for Stanley."

Grundy pursed his tiny lips. That was mischief indeed!
Dolph was her little brother, three years old and a Magi-
cian who could change to any living form instantly. Cer-
tainly he could become a bird and fly away—but just as
certainly that would be disaster, because, if he didn't
promptly get lost, he would get eaten by some airborne
predator. This had to be stopped!

But Grundy had promised not to tell. He had broken
promises before, but he was trying to steer a straighter
course. Also, if he told on Ivy, he would be in immediate
and serious trouble. He had to find some private way to
stop this.

He went through the motions of breakfast, but found
no answer to his problem. He saw Ivy going to Dolph's
room and knew he had to act—without admitting what
he knew. So he pretended to encounter her accidentally,
intercepting her in the hall. "Whatcha up to, kid?"

"Go away, you little snoop," she said amiably.

"All right—I'll play with Dolph instead."

"Don't you dare!" she said with moderate fury. "I'm
playing with him."

"We can both play with him," Grundy suggested. To
that she was unable to demur, because she didn't want
to give away her secret by being too insistent.

Dolph was up and dressed and ready to play. He was

Golem in the Gears                    7

a handsome little boy with curly brown hair and a big
smile. "See—I'm a bird!" he exclaimed, and suddenly he
was a bird, a pretty red and green one.

"Ixnay," Ivy whispered, but Dolph was already chang-
ing back, pleased with his accomplishment.

"Can I go out and fly now?" he asked.

"Why would you want to fly?" Grundy inquired as if
innocently.

"He doesn't," Ivy said quickly.

But Dolph was already answering. "I'm going to catch
a dragon!" he said proudly.

"No, he isn't!" Ivy cried.

"That's very good, Dolph," Grundy said. "What dragon
will you catch?"

"No dragon!" Ivy cried.

"Stanley Steamer," Dolph said. "He's lost."

Grundy turned to Ivy as if surprised. "What's he talking
about? You know he's not allowed to go out alone."

"I told you not to snoop!" Ivy said furiously. "It's none
of your business!"

"But you can't send Dolph out! If anything happened
to him, your father would ask the walls of Castle Roogna
who put him up to it, and then your mother would—"

Ivy put both hands protectively against her backside,
knowing where her mother's wrath would strike. "But
I've got to rescue Stanley!" she wailed. "He's my pet
dragon!"

"But nobody even knows where he is," Grundy pointed
out. "Or even whether he's—" He had to break off,
because it would not be smart to utter the dread conjec-
ture in Ivy's presence. Stanley had disappeared when a
monster-banish spell had accidentally caught him. Of
course he wasn't a monster; he was a pet, but the spell
had not distinguished one type of dragon from another.

8                   Golem in the Gears

Naturally Ivy had pestered Good Magician Humfrey about
Stanley's whereabouts, but there were so many dragons
in Xanth that Humfrey's spells had not been able to isolate
Stanley. Or so Humfrey claimed. Humfrey was younger
than he once hadbeen, and probably his magic wasn't up
to snuff, but he wouldn't admit that.

"Somehow I'll find him," Ivy said resolutely. "He's my

dragon."

There was some justice in that claim, l^obody could
hold a dragon unless that dragon wanted to be held, and
it had been friendship that held Stanley. Ivy had perceived
him as her friend and her pet, and her enormous and subtle
magic had made him so. Grundy was sure Stanley would
have returned to her, had he been able. The fact that he
had not returned strongly suggested that he was dead.

And Ivy would not give up the search. Grundy knew
her well enough to accept that. Yet if she were not dis-
suaded, both she and her family might in the end suffer
much greater distress than the loss of one little dragon—
such as the loss of a little brother. Ivy was a Sorceress,
but she was also a child; she lacked adult judgment.

Grundy could neither tell on her nor allow her to pro-
ceed with this foolish project. What was he to do?

It occurred to him that there was a noble way out of
this dilemma—a way that just might bring him some of
the esteem he craved. "I'll find him for you," he said.

Ivy clapped her hands in the way that little girls had.
"You will? Oh, thank you, Grundy! I take back half the
mean things I've said about you!"

Half? Well, half a loaf was evidently all he rated. "But
while I'm doing it, you mustn't do anything yourself," he
cautioned. "That could mess it up."

"Oh, I won't, I won't!" she agreed. "Not until you

bring him back."

Golem in the Gears                   9

In this manner Grundy found himself committed to a
Quest he strongly suspected was futile. But what else
could he have done? Ivy needed her dragon back, and he
needed to be a hero.

Grundy had no idea how to proceed, so he did what
anyone in that situation would do: he went to ask the
Good Magician. He caught a ride with a passing thesaurus
who was going that way. The thesaurus was a very ancient
breed of reptile who had picked up an enormous vocab-
ulary during its centuries of life; it made for an interesting
dialogue while they traveled. However, it had the annoy-
ing habit of never using a single term where several similar
ones could be squeezed in. For example, when Grundy
inquired where it was going, it swished its heavy tail and
replied: "I am departing, leaving, removing, embarking,
going, traveling for distant, remote, faraway, separated
regions, zones, areas, territories, districts." By the time
they reached the Good Magician's castle, Grundy was
glad to bid it farewell, adieu, good-bye, and good rid-
dance.

Now Grundy stood before the Good Magician's castle.
Each time he had approached it over the years, it had
looked different from the outside, but very little changed
inside. This time it was suspiciously ordinary: a circular
moat, gray stone walls, scattered motley turrets, and a
general air of indifference to external things. Grundy knew
this was illusory; Humfrey was the Magician of infor-
mation, and though he was young now, he generally did
know what was going on. He didn't like to be bothered
about inconsequentials, so he established barriers to
intrusions, on the theory that only folk with sufficiently
important concerns would navigate them.

Well, Grundy had a concern and he knew he had to

10

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

11

get past three obstacles to win entry. What he didn't know
was what they were or how to nullify them. He would
simply have to move ahead and do what he had to.

He stepped up to the edge of the moat. The water lay
there, rippling at him. Naturally there was no way for him
to cross; the drawbridge was up. Well, he would simply
have to swim.

Swim? First he had better check out the moat mon-
sters!

"Hey, snootface!" he called. Moat monsters were
always varieties of water serpents and vain about their
appearance.

There was no response. Well, he could handle that.
"Say, grass," he said to the verdant bank. "Where's the
monster?"

"On vacation, ragbrain," the grass replied.

Grundy was surprised. "No moat monster on duty?
You mean I can safely swim across?"

"Fat chance, stringfellow," the grass replied. "You'd
get eaten up before you got five strokes."

"But if there's no monster—"

The grass rustled in the breeze. "Suit yourself, wood-
nose."

Grundy didn't trust this. "How can I get eaten, if there's
no monster?"

But the grass had been ruffled. "Find out for yourself,
clayface." Obviously it had some notion of his origin,
though he was no longer composed of string, rag, wood
or clay. He didn't really appreciate its attitude, perhaps
because it was so like his own.

Something was definitely amiss. He bent to poke a
finger in the water, but an anticipatory rustle across the
lawn alerted him. So he plucked a blade of grass, evoking

a strenuous protest from the bank, and poked it in the
water.

In a moment it dissolved into sludge. This mote was
filled with acid!

Some obstacle! If he had tried to swim in that...!

He scrounged for a small stick, and poked that in the
moat. It dissolved more slowly, being dead and more solid.
He located a pebble and tried that, and it didn't dissolve
at all.

Now he knew that the acid only affected animate mate-
rial. Unfortunately, he was animate. He would have to
use some sort of boat to cross, to keep his flesh clear of
the liquid.

He searched the premises, looking for a boat. Naturally
there was none. He heard a popping noise and discovered
a popcorn plant, but that didn't help. He took a kernel of
the corn on general principles, however; one never could
tell when something might be useful in some obscure way.

Then he found a giant snail shell. The snail had long
since passed away, but its hollow shell was beautiful,
gleaming iridescently. But what use was an empty snail
shell?

Suddenly he had a notion. He took hold of the shell
and dragged it toward the moat. This was a job, as it
weighed more than he did; he could have crawled inside
the thing! But that just might be what he needed.

He shoved it to the moat and nudged it in. It floated
with the hollow aperture up, and it did not dissolve. He
pressed down on it, but it contained a lot more volume
of air than he could displace; he could not push it below
the surface of the liquid. Good enough again!

Grundy hauled the shell back on shore, then made
another tour, locating several long twigs of wood. He
brought them back, set them inside the shell, and launched




12

Golem in the Gears

it again. Then he climbed in himself, carefully. It sup-
ported his weight. Now he was floating!

He took a twig and used it to pole off from the bank.
He settled himself as comfortably as he could inside the
shell and used a flattened twig to paddle the craft. He had

a snailboat!

Before long, his wooden paddle dissolved, and he had
to use another. He had to paddle carefully, so as not to
splash any of the acid on himself. Progress was slow, but
the moat was not broad; he judged he would make it safely
across if he didn't panic. Just as long as no monster
appeared at this stage!

No monster appeared. Monsters didn't like acid any
better than living golems did. An armored serpent might
withstand the corrosion, but how would it protect its eyes

and mouth?

In due course he nudged his way to a landing inside
the moat, and stepped carefully to shore. One hurdle down.

He stood and looked about. He was on a fairly narrow
beach between the moat and the wall. The beach curved
around the island that was the castle. The wall was ver-
tical and fashioned of flat, polished stone; he could see
his reflection in it, but he couldn't catch so much as a
fingerhold for climbing. He would have to walk around
until he came to a suitable entrance.

He walked—and soon encountered a large animal. It
was a unicorn! There were very few of them in Xanth;

they seemed to prefer to range in other pastures. This
one was a fairly disreputable-looking creature with a burr-
tangled mane and a gnarled horn. It snorted as it spied
him and pawed at the sand with a forehoof.

"Hi there, warp-horn," Grundy said in equine language
with his usual politeness. "Why don't you clean up that
stinking coat?"

Golem in the Gean                 13

"I'll clean up the sand with you, you midget blot," the
unicorn replied with unprovoked bad humor.

Oops—this was evidently another obstacle. "I don't
suppose you'd care to let -me pass, so I can go on into
the castle," Grundy said.

"I don't suppose you'd care to take a bath in the moat,"
the unicorn replied in the same tone.

Grundy made as if to scoot under the creature, for
there was no room to pass on the side. The unicorn made
as if to spear anything that tried that route. It was obvious
that he could not get by; the animal was set to prevent
it.

The golem stood back and considered. How could he
pass a creature who was determined to prevent it and had
the ability to enforce the restriction? There had to be a
way.

He had a notion. He turned and walked away. He could
circle the castle in either direction, and reach the entrance
either way. The unicorn did not pursue him, perhaps too
stupid to realize what he was doing.

Grundy walked three-quarters of the way around the
castle—and stopped. There was the unicorn, facing the
other way, horn lowered wamingly. Obviously it had
backed up to the entrance place, used that wider region
to turn, and had come to block this route too. It wasn't
stupid after all; it had known that it couldn't protect the
entrance by chasing the golem around the castle.

Well, maybe he could trick it into letting down its guard.
Or make it so mad it miscalculated. Grundy had a rare
touch with insults, when he put his beady little mind to
it. "Say, founderfoot, did they put you out here so you
won't stink up the inside of the castle?"

"No, they put me out here so you wouldn't stink it
up," the unicorn replied.

Golem in the Gears                  15

14                  Golem in the Gears

Hm. This might be more of a challenge than he had
thought. But Grundy tried again. "Did you get that hom
caught in a hole in the ground? No self-respecting creature

would carry a broken spear like that!"

"Did you get that body caught in a shrinking violet?"
the unicorn responded. "No self-respecting midget would

use it."

"Listen, knot-mane, I'm a golem\" Grundy exclaimed.

"I'm supposed to be this size."

"I doubt it. That body is way too small for that mouth."
Grundy swelled up to his full diminutive height, ready
to spew forth a devastating torrent of abuse—and realized
that the unicorn was winning the contest. It was the one

that was supposed to be getting mad!

He would have to try some other tack. Well, if he

couldn't beat it, maybe he could join it. "What do you

want most in all Xanth?" he inquired.

"To get rid of pesky golems so I can resume my snooze."

"Apart from that," Grundy said unevenly.

The unicorn considered. "Well, I do get hungry, and

meals are far apart. I'd sure like a nice snack of something

good."

That was more promising. But Grundy wasn't sure how

he could provide such a snack. "If you let me into the
castle, maybe I could get you some nice hay or some-
thing," he suggested.

"If I let you into the castle, maybe I'll get my hide

tanned before I'm ready to leave it," the unicorn said.
"Maybe I could get you a snack without going in,"

Grundy said.

"I'd be glad to have a snack without you going in," the

creature agreed.

Somehow that didn't sound promising. Grundy stared

across the moat, where the grass was green and the brush

was leafy. Surely there was plenty there to distract the
unicorn—but the unicorn couldn't cross to it, and Grundy
himself would not be able to carry enough across in the
snailboat to last for more than one mouthful at a time.

He spied a tall green plant that sported several tassles.
That jogged his memory. Maybe there was a way!

"What kind of a plant are you?" he called in plant
language. The unicorn couldn't understand that, of course,
so it didn't know what he was doing.

"I am a popcorn plant," the plant replied proudly. "I
have the best popcorn on the bank!"

Grundy turned to the unicorn. "Unicorns don't like
popcorn, do they?"

"Of course they don't," the creature agreed, its mouth
watering.

Aha! He remembered correctly. Unicorns liked all kinds
of corns, because they were magically related.

He returned his attention to the popcorn. "You don't
look like much to me," he sneered in plant language.

The plant huffed up and turned color. "I'm the top
pop!" it proclaimed. "My kernels pop harder than any-
one's!"

"They do not!" Grundy retorted. "I bet they fizzle!"
"Fizzle!" the plant snapped, outraged. Its ears turned
an angry red. "I'll pop off so hard you'll think it's an
explosion!"

"I think it's a fake!" Grundy said.
The plant's corns became so hot that the tassles browned
and shriveled, and the leaves around its ears split apart.
The kernels popped with the heat, first a few, then many,
until it did indeed resemble an explosion. Popcorn puffs
flew out in every direction, a number of them arcing over
the moat and peppering the castle wall.




16                  Golem in the Gears

"Popcorn!" the unicorn exclaimed, eagerly snatching
up the fallen pieces.

"But unicorns don't like popcorn," Grundy reminded

it.

"Get out of here, golem!" the creature cried angrily.

"As you wish." Grundy retreated to the unicorn's rear,
toward the gate, and the creature was so distracted by
the delicious popcorn puffs that it didn't notice. Grundy
moved on up to the gate and through it without further
opposition. He was inside the castle!

"Very clever, you little morsel," a voice growled.

Grundy looked, startled. He was in a moderately sized
court with a dirt floor, and before him stood an ant lion.
The monster could snap him up in a moment, if it wanted
to.

"I'm just trying to get in to see the Good Magician on
important business," the golem said nervously.

"Indeed." The ant lion yawned, showing its enormous
feline teeth. It was playing cat-and-mouse with him,
knowing that its six insect legs could overtake him any-
time. "I doubt you are smart enough to rate any of his
time."

"Sure I am!" Grundy retorted hotly. "I'm just not big
enough to get by all you monsters."

"I will make you a deal," the ant lion said, stretching
languorously. "Prove you are smart and I will let you
pass."

It was up to something. But Grundy realized he had
nothing to lose; he was already in its power. "How do I
do that?"

"You play me three games of lines and boxes," the ant
lion said. "If you can defeat me, I'll let you enter. If you
lose, I'll consume you. That's very fair, isn't it?"

Golem in the Gears                  17

Grundy swallowed. He was not entirely pleased with
the terms. "Suppose we tie?"

"Then I will let you enter anyway. I can be magnani-
mous to an intellectual equal. To make it even easier for
you, I will even grant you the first move each time."

Grundy still didn't like this. But he was aware of two
things: first, he really had no choice, as he could not
otherwise get in to see the Good Magician, and second,
he was a pretty good player of lines and boxes. He could
probably win. "I agree," he said.

"Excellent!" the ant lion said heartily. It leaped sud-
denly into the air and came down with its six legs straight.
It was a fairly massive creature, so each leg sank into the
dirt as it landed. It stepped out of its tracks, and six neat
depressions remained. Then it jumped again, this time
landing a little to the side. The three right legs landed in
the dents left by the three left legs before, and the three
left legs made three new dents.

The monster stepped carefully back. There before it
was a neat pattern of nine dents, forming a large square
with one dent in the center. "There is the board," it
announced.

"That's only enough for four boxes!" Grundy pro-
tested.

The ant lion extended a claw and contemplated it. "So?"

Grundy decided not to protest further. A small game
was the same as a big one in principle, after all, and he
did have the first move. He stepped up and scratched a
line with his foot between a comer dent and the center
dent on his side.

The ant lion reached across and scraped another line,
from Grundy's center dot to the other corner dot. One
side of the figure was complete.

Grundy drew a line from a near comer up to connect




18                  Golem in the Gear*

to the middle dot on that side. The ant lion made another,
completing that side. Grundy drew one along the side
closest to the ant lion, and the ant lion completed this one
also. Then they each put a line in the fourth side. Now
the figure was a large box—and Grundy realized he was
in trouble.




He had no choice now but to draw a line from the
center dot to one of the sides. That would set things up
for his opponent to complete a box with his line, and then
use his extra turn to complete another box, and so on
through the figure, winning. He had been trapped into a
game he couldn't win.

"Move—or forfeit," the ant lion said with satisfaction.
Grundy sighed and moved. Whereupon the ant lion did
exactly as expected, filling in all four boxes and marking
his neat letter A's in each. Grundy had lost badly.

Golem in the Gears                  19

you the advantage of the first move every time, and I am
a creature of my word."

"But—"

The monster extended another claw and studied it sig-
nificantly. Grundy realized that he had to accept this gen-
erosity.

What was he to do? The advantage clearly lay with
the second player—and that advantage was going to get
him consumed by the monster!

Then Grundy remembered something. There just might
be a way! He had not played such small games before,
but the principle should hold. The key was in the fact that
a player did not have to complete a box if he did not want
to, provided he was able to make some other move instead.
That seemed like a losing strategy, so it was seldom
employed, but it had its points. He would use it here.

They started the second game of their appointed three.
Grundy started exactly as he had before, and the ant lion
continued as before. They completed two sides of the
outer square. Then Grundy made his surprise move: he
drew a line to the center.




20

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

21

its bonus line in the opposite side, to avoid giving Grundy
a similar gift. Grundy filled in the last free spot. Now the
diagram looked like this:

to fill in the last available free space. It didn't matter which
player took the box and the bonus line; that extra line
shifted the advantage to the first player. The configuration
now was this:

A

G

The ant lion got ready to draw his line—and paused.
There was nowhere he could move, without setting Grundy
up for three boxes and victory. "I'll be cursed!" it
exclaimed. "You set me up!"

"Merely playing the game to win," Grundy replied

modestly.

With imperfect grace, the ant lion drew a line at the
edge, and Grundy filled in the rest, marking G's in three
boxes.



G	G
G	A

The score stood at one victory each. The ant lion was
very thoughtful as they commenced the deciding game.
This one started as the others had, but when Grundy
offered the sacrifice box, the other declined it, choosing
instead to continue around the rim. Now Grundy was
nervous; could this force the win back to the ant lion?

Then Grundy saw the other side of the key. He moved
in and took the first box himself, and used his bonus line

The ant lion stared at it for a long time. Finally it
shrugged, and filled in a line. Grundy filled in the remain-
ing three boxes.

"I learned something today," the ant lion said philo-
sophically. "The ploy of the proffered box, which is dis-
aster whether accepted or declined. I congratulate you,
Golem; you have proved yourself to be smart enough to
pass." And the monster stood aside and allowed Grundy
to enter the castle.

Grundy's little knees were weak. In retrospect he real-
ized that the Good Magician had surely known about the
way to reverse the game, so that it represented a fair test
of ingenuity. But how close he had come to failing the
test!

Now he walked through another gate, and there was
the veiled Gorgon. "What kept you, Grundy?" she inquired
solicitously.

Grundy didn't have it in him to make a smart reply. "I
just want to see the Magician."

"By all means. But be careful; he's grumpy today."

She ushered him into the Good Magician's office.
Humfrey was perched on his high stool, poring over a
monstrous tome. That was par for the course. He was




22

Golem in the Gears

Golem in th« Gears

23

now about twelve years old, physically, having recovered
that far from the overdose of Youth Elixir he had suffered
five years before.

"Magician, I need advice on—" Grundy began.

"Go away," Humfrey grumped.

"I just want to—"

"One year's service—in advance."

This was of course standard procedure for the Good
Magician. But Grundy had been shaken by the experience
with the ant lion, and his natural manner of expressing
himself surged to the fore. "Listen, you rejuvenated freak!
You're such an idiot you've missed the obvious for five
years! You can be any age you want to, anytime. I can
give you back a century of your life, with one sentence.
Then you'll owe me a hundred Answers!"

This got the Good Magician's full attention. "Prove it."

"All you have to do is dunk a stick of reverse-wood
in a cup of Youth Elixir. Then it will—"

"Become Age Elixir!" Humfrey finished, amazed.
"Now why didn't / think of that?"

"Because you're an—"

"I heard. Very well, Golem—you've earned your
Answer. Ask your Question."

"I've earned all the Answers I want!" Grundy
exclaimed.

"No. You have done me one service that I may exploit
to my satisfaction. How many years I use it for does not
relate; it is your year that counts. Ask."

Grundy realized that the Good Magician, like the ant
lion, was a creature of no compromise. At least he had
what he wanted.

"How can I find and rescue Stanley Steamer?"

"Oho! You're doing something about that!" Humfrey

glanced at his open book. "It says you must ride the
Monster Under the Bed to the Ivory Tower."

"You mean you had it open to the place all the time?"
Grundy demanded indignantly.

"Is that another Question?"

Grundy ground his teeth. The Good Magician didn't
give anything away for nothing, unless the visitor was a
Magician. "At least tell me where the Ivory Tower is!"

"Do you want to pay your year's service before or
after I give you that Answer?"

"You gnomish cheapskate!" Grundy raged. "I just gave
you back your age, hardly a minute ago!"

Humfrey's lips quirked. "And what have you done for
me lately, Golem?"

Grundy stormed out of the room. The Good Magician
hardly noticed; he was back poring over his tome.

Chapter 2. Snortimer

Back at Castle Roogna, Grundy remained dis-
gruntled. He had belatedly realized that the Good Magi-
cian hadn't even told him that Stanley Steamer was at
the Ivory Tower; he had just said to ride the monster there.
Who could guess what complications would manifest at
that point? On the other hand, Humfrey also hadn't said
that the Quest was useless. He might not know for sure




24

Golem in the Gear*

Golem in the Gears

25

whether Stanley was alive, but at least he had enabled

Grundy to find out.

First he had to explain things to Ivy. He suspected that

would not be easy—and he was correct.

"You want to take Snortimer?!" she demanded indig-
nantly. "He's my monster!"

"But all you do is ignore him or tease him," Grundy

pointed out.

"That's beside the point," she said, assuming her Little

Lady manner. "He belongs under my bed, nowhere else."

"But the Good Magician says I have to ride the Monster
Under the Bed to the Ivory Tower, and he's the only
Monster Under the Bed I know well enough to ask."

"The Ivory Tower?" she asked with a mercurial shift
of mood. "That's where Rapunzel lives!"

Grundy hadn't thought of that. Rapunzel was Ivy's
pun-pal, who sent her periodic boxes of puns in exchange
for the mundane scraps Ivy sent; It had always seemed
to Grundy that Ivy had much the best of the bargain, and
he wondered why Rapunzel continued with the arrange-
ment. But what could Rapunzel have to do with the miss-
ing dragon? Surely she would have notified Ivy if Stanley

had turned up there!

But he decided it was better not to raise such issues
with Ivy; no good could come of it. "Do you want Stanley
back or don't you?" Grundy demanded gruffly.

"Oh, pooh!" she said. "Go do it, then. But if anything
happens to Snortimer, I'll never forgive you!"

So Grundy went to talk to Snortimer, the Monster Under
Ivy's Bed. Such monsters were an interesting species,
because only children and credulous folk could see them
at all; normal adults didn't even believe in them. Since
Grundy was small, he had no trouble perceiving the mon-
ster—and because he was small, he had always stayed

well out of reach. Now, with some trepidation, he
approached Snortimer's lair.

"Snortimer," he called from a safe distance.

Something twitched in the dusky recesses beneath the
bunk.

"Snortimer, I know you understand me," Grundy called.
"I'm speaking your language. Come out from under there;

I need your help."

A big, hairy hand poked out from the deep shadow, as
if questing for something to grab. That was of course the
speciality of the species: grabbing children's ankles. Some
mean children would dangle their feet down and snatch
them away just before getting grabbed, but most children
were properly terrified.

"Listen, Snortimer, I have a Quest. I need your help."

At last the monster spoke. "Why should I help you?"

" 'Cause the Good Magician says I have to ride you to
the Ivory Tower to rescue Stanley."

Snortimer considered. "It'll cost you, golem."

Grundy sighed. He should have known that nothing
about this Quest would be easy. "What will it cost?"

"I want romance."

"What?"

"I've been eight years under this bed, grabbing at Ivy's
ankles and hiding from her mother. The same old grind,
day after day. There must be more to life than this!"

"But that's what Monsters Under the Bed do!" Grundy
protested. "They have no other purpose than to grab at
children's ankles and hide from parents."

"Then why am I supposed to help you?"

Snortimer had a point. Obviously there was more to
such a monster's life than ankles. "Um,just what do you
mean by romance?"

"I don't know. But I'll know it when I find it."




26

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

27

"Why don't you just crawl off to another bed and find
a, uh, female of your species, and—?"

"That isn't how it's done. No Bed Monster shares ter-
ritory. I have to find someone who isn't yet committed
to a bed."

"Where would that be?"

The big ugly hand made a gesture of ignorance. "I have
no idea. I suppose I just have to travel about until some-
where I find her."

"Well, I plan to travel," Grundy said. "If you will be
my steed, you'd get to cover quite a bit of the country."

"Sounds good," Snoitimer agreed. "I'll be your steed—
but only till I find romance."

Grundy realized that that could get him stranded some-
where far away, perhaps in the midst of Uncommitted
Monster Country. But half a loaf was better than none.
"Agreed. Let's start right away. Come on out of there."

"I can't," Snortimer said.

"But you said—"

"I said I'd be your steed; I didn't say I'd do the impos-
sible. I can't come out until dark."

"But I was planning on traveling in the daytime!"

"Not with me, you're not! Light would destroy me
instantly. Why do you think we Bed Monsters never climb
up on top of the bed to grab at ankles? We're confined
to the deepest shadows." He pondered a moment. "Which
is unfortunate. There's a lot more than ankles up there."

"Why don't you go up and grab when the lights are
out?"

The hand spread in a what-can-you-do? gesture.
"Against the rules. There has to be some limitation, or
all the Bed Monsters would take over the uppersides and
put the children underneath. We can't bother anything we
can't grab when the light's on."

"But you can travel from your bed, at night?"
"Some. As long as I don't bother anyone."
"I see. But why don't you go out and look for romance
at night, on your own, then?"

"I wouldn't dare do it alone! Suppose I got trapped by
a sudden light, and couldn't make it back to my bed before
dawn?"

"What happens if you get caught away from your bed?"
"Extinction!" Snortimer replied with deepest dread.
"But then how can you be my steed and travel to the
farthest reaches of Xanth in quest of romance?"
"I hadn't thought of that," the monster said.
Baffled, Grundy returned to Ivy. He explained the
problem. "But there must be a way," he concluded, "or
the Good Magician wouldn't have told me to do it."

"I'll ask Hugo," she said. She had evidently become
reconciled to the temporary loss of her monster. Grundy
suspected that little girls didn't really like having their
ankles grabbed when they went to bed, whatever they
might say to the contrary. "C'mon."

They went to the Magic Mirror and Ivy summoned
Hugo, the Good Magician's son. Hugo was becoming a
halfway handsome boy of thirteen. He listened to the
problem and, at Ivy's urging, came up with the solution:

"He'll just have to take the bed along."

Ivy turned to Grundy. "See? Easy as pie. Just take—"
Then she did a doubletake. "Hey, that's my bed!"

"We all have to make sacrifices," Grundy said, sup-
pressing an obnoxious smile.

But Ivy surprised him with another change of attitude.
"Oh, I was tired of that bed anyway! You can take it with
you. I'll sleep on cushions. They're comfortabler."

Grundy doubted that, but did not see fit to argue. Per-
haps, for Ivy, it would become true.




28

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

29

He returned to Snortimer. "Problem solved," he
announced. "We'll just take the bed along."

"How?" the monster asked.

Good question! Obviously if Snortimer were to be his
steed, he couldn't also carry a bed, assuming he could
move it at all. But Ivy had disappeared on some other
errand, and Grundy knew he couldn't make Hugo answer
questions the way Ivy could, if only because the boy was
usually rather stupid. He would have to figure out some-
thing on his own.

"I think we'll have to get help," Grundy said. This was
certainly becoming complicated!

"Let me know when you do," Snortimer said. "Mean-
while I'll snooze." In a moment there was the sound of
snoring from the shadow.

Grundy wandered around Castle Roogna, trying to
decide on a suitable person to ask for help. It had to be
someone big and strong enough to carry the bed, and
stupid enough not to ask why. Someone like Smash Ogre.
But Smash was married now, and his wife Tandy kept
him on a short leash; no hope there.

Well, maybe someone not stupid, but not important,
either. Someone who had nothing better to do than carry
beds around the countryside. Who would that be?

Suddenly he had a bright answer. He knew just the
person!

Thus it was that he came to talk with Ivy's other grand-
father, Bink. Bink had little to do with the activities of
Castle Roogna and every month, when his wife Chame-
leon got smart and ugly, he tended to make excursions
around Xanth on his own. Maybe he'd be willing to take
a bed along.

"Why not?" Bink inquired amiably. He was about sixty
years old now, but still hearty, and a pretty solid man.

"But even a small bed would get heavy soon enough; I'll
ask my friend Chester to help."

"But I'm not sure we should make a big production of
this," Grundy said. "I was thinking of a quiet Quest."

Bink looked at him, smiling. "If I know my grand-
daughter, she's into mischief, and if I know you, you're
trying to keep her out of it—and you're not allowed to
tell."

"Something like that," Grundy agreed uncomfortably.

"Well, then, we won't tell. No one will miss us any-
way."

"You're very understanding, sir," Grundy said. Bink
might not seem like much, but he was a former King of
Xanth, which meant he had Magician-class magic, though
that wasn't evident. It seemed to Grundy that he had once
known more about it, but he seemed to have forgotten.

"It's been a long time since Chester and I have had a
decent adventure," Bink said.

That evening Bink and Chester showed up at the Cas-
tle. "Our wives aren't too keen on this," Bink confessed.
"They're letting us go, but only for two weeks. That means
one week out and one week back. Do you think you can
complete your Quest in that time?"

"I hope so," Grundy said. He had no idea how long it
would take to reach the Ivory Tower, especially since he
didn't know where it was. "I haven't had a lot of expe-
rience with Quests, you know."

"Well, let's get on with it," Bink said. He carried a
hefty coil of rope. Chester waited outside, while Bink
marched in and upstairs, Grundy on his shoulder.

It seemed to Grundy that someone should have shown
up to inquire what in Xanth they were doing, such as
Ivy's mother Irene, who normally had supersensitive




30

Golem in the Gears

GoSem in the Gears

31

hearing and curiosity to match. But luckily no one was
disturbed, and they reached Ivy's room undetected.

Ivy was awake, of course, though in her nightie. She
almost flew to Bulk's arms. "Ooo, Grandpa Bink, how
exciting!" she exclaimed. "Are you going to steal my bed
now?"

"That's right, sweetie," Bink agreed. And methodically
he opened the largest window wide, tied his rope to the
bed, and lifted it up.

Snortimer scooted away, startled. "Not so fast, mon-
ster!" Grundy said, dropping down. "You're my steed,

remember?"

It was dark in the room, so he really couldn't see Snor-
timer very well, but the monster seemed to consist of five
or six big hairy arms and hands and nothing else. Some-
what diffidently, Grundy climbed aboard, and found a
fairly comfortable seat at the juncture of the arms. Snor-
timer was not a large monster, for he had to fit under the
small bed, but he was a good size for Grundy.

Bink heaved the bed out through the window and let
it down with the rope. It swung and bumped against the
stones of the wall, generating an awfiil clatter, but still no
one seemed to notice. What phenomenal luck!

When the bed scraped its way to the base, Chester
Centaur caught hold of it with his powerful arms and set
it on his back. They had rigged a harness for him so that
he could carry it without having to use his hands, and its
weight was no problem at all for him.

They bade farewell to Ivy, who remained thrilled at
this secret adventure and perhaps a little jealous that she
wasn't going along, but she knew as well as they did that
there was no way her mother would let her get involved
in something like this. And of course it was for the best
of causes: the rescue of Stanley Steamer.

They went down and out, still without stirring up any
commotion in the castle, and rejoined Chester. Quietly
they walked away from the wall and crossed the moat
and entered the main orchard. The trees rustled their
branches, wondering what was going on, but did not inter-
fere.

They wended their way on through the darkness,
unspeaking. Grundy was able to see very little, but Snor-
timer had no trouble. The monster was of course a crea-
ture of the dark, completely at home in it. Grundy began
to appreciate the wisdom of selecting a steed like this,
though he remained uncertain whether the Good Magi-
cian's advice was good for the long term. He still had no
idea where to find the Ivory Tower.

They came to a spot in the forest that Chester knew,
where several great trees clustered to form a leafy bower.
They stopped. "We can talk here," Chester said. "No one
will overhear us. Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," Grundy confessed. "I'm supposed to
go to the Ivory Tower, but the Good Magician didn't tell
me where it is. If one of you happens to know—"

"Not me," Chester said, and Bink agreed.

Grundy sighed. "I suppose we'll just have to search
for it. I can ask the plants and things as we go along."

"The Good Magician must have had a reason to have
you ride the Bed Monster," Bink said. "Maybe you had
better just give the monster its head and see where it takes
you."

"I suppose so. "Then Grundy thought of something else.
"I thought no adults could see the monster, or believe in it."

"We haven't seen it yet," Chester growled. "It's dark."

"But people become more childlike as they grow older,"
Bink said. "Maybe there comes a time when they believe
in that particular monster again."




32                  Golem in the Gears

"Okay, Snortimer," Grundy said. "Go where you have
a mind, and let's see if it's the Ivory Tower."

"I have no idea where to go either," Snortimer pro-
tested. Grundy could understand him perfectly, but the
others could not speak the language, so couldn't partic-
ipate.

"Isn't that great!" Grundy exclaimed. "Four of us

here—and not one of us has any notion how to proceed!"

"Perhaps we should ask someone, then," Bink sug-
gested mildly.

"Who would possibly know?" Grundy demanded dis-
piritedly.

"The female Gap Dragon," Chester suggested. "At least

she has a motive to find Stanley."

"But she would gobble us up in a moment!" Grundy

protested.

"Not if you presented our case clearly," Bink said. "I'm

sure it will work out."

The man was certainly a fool! But Chester agreed with
him, and Grundy was dependent on them to carry the
bed. He had no choice. "I guess that's what we'll do,
then," he agreed reluctantly.

"First let's get a good night's sleep," Bink said. "We'll
have some heavy traveling coming up."

"But we have to travel by night!" Grundy protested.

"That's true," Bink agreed. "I had forgotten. Well, let's
get a good night and day's sleep, and be fresh for tomor-
row night."

Grundy chafed at the delay. Then he remembered Stella
Steamer, the lady Gap Dragon, and decided that delay
was no bad thing. What a bad beginning for this Quest!

Grundy worried that someone from Castle Roogna
would discover them, as they were not very far from it,

Golem in the Gears                  33

but still their luck held. That was gratifying, of course,
yet still he felt out of sorts. This was supposed to be his
Quest, but the others seemed to be running things pretty
much their way. He was still just a golem, the least con-
sequential of creatures.

The following evening, well-rested, they started off.
Grundy rode Snortimer, and had to admit that the monster
got around quite well. The only problem was the wan
moonlight; Snortimer would not venture into even that
dim illumination, and plowed through the densest brush
to avoid it. Since the magic path tended to be open, quite
a lot of it was moonlighted, so Grundy spent half his time
off the path. However, Snortimer's big hairy hands grasped
the brush with sure grips and seemed unbothered by even
the thickest tangles, and soon Grundy stopped being con-
cerned.

After an hour or so, they came to a surprise: a detour.
A dark sign blocked the path. Grundy approached it until
he was able to make out the print, even in the shadow.
It said:

"CONSTRUCTION: D-Tails @ Shopping Centaur."

"That's odd," Bink remarked. "I hadn't heard about
work on the magic paths."

"Well, we might as well go leam the details," Chester
said. "They seem to be at a good place."

He was a centaur; naturally he saw nothing odd about
the location. But Grundy didn't like this.

They took the indicated side trail. They had been pro-
ceeding north, toward the Gap Chasm; the detour took
them east. The path seemed all right, but Grundy remained
uneasy. He had never heard of a magic path being closed
off for construction.




34                 Gdem hi the Gears

Soon they came to the shopping centaur. This turned
out to be not a place but a creature: a lady centaur carrying
a huge shopping bag. She carried a lamp, which made
Snortimer scurry to cover in the shadow off-trail, so that
Grundy did not hear her dialogue with Bink and Chester.

In a moment she continued on her way, and Grundy
was able to rejoin the others. "She says the tails belong
to the Bulls and Bears, and to be careful," Bink said.
"The Bulls always go up, while the Bears go down, and

it can get violent."

"What are Bulls and Bears?" Grundy asked.
"Mundane animals. Some must have strayed." Bink

evidently wasn't worried.

They moved on. The detour continued roughly east,

evincing no intention of turning north. Grundy's discom-
fort increased. He wasn't eager to encounter the Gap
Dragoness, but this eastward drift was only wasting time

and effort.

As the first wan light of dawn threatened ahead of

them, Snortimer got nervous, and they had to make camp.
They found an open field, and Chester pitched the bed
there, and the Bed Monster scooted under it just before

the light brightened.

Chester and Bink went foraging for food. Grundy, tired,

simply lay down on the bed and slept. That aspect was
very convenient; he would always have a comfortable

place to retire.

Grundy woke abruptly. The sun was shining down

slantingly, and creatures were all around him. At first he
thought Bink and Chester had returned, but this was not
the case; instead, a herd of huge four-footed, hooved crea-
tures were milling around the bed. They seemed to be
heedless of the bed's presence, and Grundy was afraid

Golem in the Gears                  35

they would knock it over and thus expose Snortimer's
retreat to the direct sunshine. That would be disaster!
"Hey!" he cried. "Watch where you're going!"
Still they ignored him, pressing heedlessly closer. Each
creature had a shaggy coat and two stout horns on its
head. One of them pressed in close to the bed, almost
brushing it.

"What's up, anyway?" Grundy demanded, standing on

the bed.

"Up?" Several nearby creatures swung their heads, for
the first time taking note of him. They crowded in closer.
"Or down," Grundy cried. "What are you—"
"Down!" several creatures cried, horrified. A kind of
stampede developed, momentarily abating the press of
bodies about the bed.

But this turned out to be no improvement, for now a
new kind of creature showed up. This was a hairy, mus-
cular entity who lacked horns but had large teeth. Several
of these surged toward the bed.

"Who are you?" Grundy cried, newly alarmed.
"We are the Bulls," the homed creatures lowed.
"We are the Bears," the toothed ones growled.
Now Grundy remembered: the creatures the tails
belonged to, who aways went up or down. He didn't like
either—but he was stuck in their midst.

A Bear scraped by the bed, shoving it to one side.
Grundy tumbled, almost falling off. "Hey, watch it!" he
yelled, grabbing on to the bar at the foot of it.

But the Bears ignored him as detenninedly as the Bulls
had. "Down! Down!" they growled, and indeed they
seemed to be traveling downward, for the field was tilted.
Grundy realized that this situation was beyond him.
Where were Bink and Chester? He had to get the bed out
of the field before these animals overturned it, and he




Golem in the Gears                  37

Golem in the Gears

36

couldn't do that by himself. But there was no sign of his

friends.

More Bears surged down, gaining momentum. The Bulls
were almost out of sight. Grundy knew he couldn't affect
these blindly charging creatures physically, but remem-
bered that he had made a slight impression with his words.
They seemed to be very sensitive to references about
direction. "Up! Down!" he yelled.

The nearest Bears hesitated, falling back for a moment.
But then they resumed their charge, and the bed bumped
across the field as their heedless imperative jostled it. It
started to tip over, then plumped back. He heard a whim-
per from Snortimer, underneath; naturally the monster

was terrified.

"East! West!" Grundy yelled, but this had no discern-
ible impression. "North! South!"

The charge continued. The bed moved some more, and
a leg hung up in a hole. Again it started to tilt. "We're in
trouble!" Grundy cried.

A passing Bear paused. "Who's in trouble?" it

demanded.

"This bed's in trouble!" Grundy replied. "If you'd just

stop shoving—"

"Oh," the Bear said, disappointed. It lost interest and
resumed its downward charge.

"Thanks a lot, hairsnout!" Grundy screamed after it.
"May a green hornet buzz up your—"

"Up?" another Bear asked, dismayed. "What's going

up?"

"My blood pressure!" Grundy retorted. "What's with

you beasts?"

But this Bear, like the other, had lost interest and re-
sumed its charge.

So words had some effect, but not a reliable one. Maybe

he would do better yelling randomly. "Pink moons in the
lake!" he called.

It seemed to work. "What stock?" the nearest passing
Bear asked.

"Purple comets in the soup!" Grundy responded.

More Bears paused. "That sounds bad," another said.

"It's terrible!" Grundy agreed, pleased with his prog-
ress.

But at that they all took off running, faster than before,
threatening to sweep the bed right down out of the field,
and to flip it over several times on the way.

"Red planets taking a bath!" he screamed.

The charge slowed. "Sell Red Planet!" a Bear growled.
Then the motion resumed.

"Consolidated Nonesuch is going nowhere!" Grundy
cried.

"Yes! Yes!" the Bears agreed, and accelerated.

"You stupes!" Grundy raged. "Just where do you think
nowhere is?"

"Bad news, bad news!" the Bears cried, and pressed
on.

Grundy tried again. "Amalgamated Parrot-Ox is buying
out Con-Pewter!" That nonsense should make them take
notice.

It did. "That's bullish for Con-Pewter!" a Bear groaned.

"Buy Pewter!" a Bull lowed. And now there was a
resurgence among the Bulls.

"It's a crock!" a Bear protested, but the tide had turned.
The Bulls surged back on the strength of the Pewter con.
The Bears retreated in confusion. The Con-Pewter age had
arrived!

This was too much success! The charge of the Bulls
was just as dangerous as that of the Bears. The bed was
getting rocked.




38                  Golem in the Gear*

"Kissimmee River is telling!" Grundy screamed.
"Telling?" a Bull snorted, dismayed. "That's not sup-
posed to happen!"

"Well, it is!" Grundy said.
Evidently the notion of anything telling dismayed the

Bulls. They milled about uncertainly, and the Bears began
to reform their formation. This did little good for the bed,
though; it got nudged right up against a tree.
"Yo!" a voice came faintly. "Grundy!"
Grundy looked. There was Bink, riding Chester! They
were back! "Over here!" he cried. "By the tree!"

But the field was filled with milling Bulls and Bears,
and it was obvious that Chester would have difficulty

getting through.

A Bull crashed against the bed, and the bed slammed

into the trunk of the tree, and a fruit plopped into the
center of the bed, just missing Grundy. The fruit was as
big as he was, and shaped like a giant light bulb; it would
have flattened him had it caught him. "Watch what you're

dropping!" Grundy yelled at the tree.

"It's your fault!" the tree retorted in plant language.

"You stirred up the stockyard!"

"Who are you to blame anything on me?" Grundy

demanded belligerently.

"I am a power plant," the tree replied proudly.
Suddenly Grundy saw a solution to his problem. "Give
me a bite of that!" he said, pouncing on the fruit. It had
split slightly from the impact of the fall; had it not landed
on the bed, it would have broken right apart. Grundy

snatched out a juicy seed and chewed on it.

In a moment he felt its effect. Power rippled through
him. He did not become larger or more muscular; he
merely developed a lot more strength in what he had.

GOIUIII in tho Good                   39

That was of course the nature of the fruit of the power
plant: it made the eater strong. For a little while.

Grundy took advantage of the moment. He jumped
down to the ground and took hold of a leg of the bed.
"We're getting out of here!" he told Snortimer, who was
huddled under the center, shaking with fear. "Just stay
centered, so the light doesn't touch you."

Then he hauled on the leg. The bed moved. He strode
forward, hauling the bed along. He moved it around the
tree and on into the forest, out of the press of Bulls and
Bears. By the time the strength lent by the power plant
abated, he had brought the bed to safety in a thicker part
of the forest.

Bink and Chester rejoined him. "We feasted on loquats,
middlequats and highquats," Bink explained. "When we
started back, we encountered traveling nickelpedes and
had to skirt widely around them. Then we heard a com-
motion in the field, but we couldn't get to it quickly."

"We were trapped amid rampaging Bulls and Bears!"
Grundy exclaimed. "Those are the craziest animals I ever
saw! All they do is charge up and down, up and down!
Luckily I found a power plant at the last minute."

"Yes, a fortunate coincidence," Bink agreed, smiling
obscurely. Grundy wondered what he was thinking of,
but wasn't in a mood to inquire.

"Let's get some sleep," Chester said gruffly. He lay
down, letting his head and shoulders rest on a hummock.
It was strange to see a centaur in that position, but of
course Chester was no longer as young as he once had
been and had to rest in whatever fashion was best for
him.

Bink settled down against a tree. "Shouldn't we post
a guard?" Grundy asked.

"Not necessary," Bink said, and closed his eyes.

40                  Golem in the Gears

How could the man be so sure of that? They weren't
that far from the stockyard where the animals ranged,
after all; suppose a stray Bull or Bear crashed through
here? But Grundy was quite tired in the aftermath of his
exercise with the power plant strength; one problem with
that sort of thing was that there was a corresponding
period of weakness to make up for the temporary power.

He flopped on the bed and slept.

Bink's optimism seemed valid, for they rested undis-
turbed until nightfall. Then they roused, ate some quats
that Chester had saved from breakfast, and resumed their

travel.

As they wended along the path, which still bore deter-

minedly east, they found themselves entering a more
equine region. There were horseflies sleeping on the trunks
of horse chestnuts, and night mares seemed to prowl.

They came to a fork in the path. They paused, uncer-
tain which one to take, as neither went north. While they
hesitated, two actual horses showed up. Horses were very
rare in Xanth, being mainly mundane in their original
form, but of course if Bulls and Bears could stray here,

so could horses.

"Say, you horses," Grundy called. "We want to get

back to the magic path going north. Which trail should

we take?"

The horses paused, one in each fork. "Gee!" neighed

the one at the right. "Haw!" neighed the one on the left.
Then they galloped on down their respective paths.

"They're just horsing around," Bink said philosophi-
cally. "I suppose we'd better gamble on the more north-
erly path."

That was a decision Grundy himself should have made,

the golem thought, troubled. But who paid attention to

Golem in the Gears                  41

him, even on his own Quest? They took the more north-
erly trail.

In due course they came upon a woman and a small

equine creature. The woman had a little notebook, in
which she was busily making notes by the light of the
moon. She looked up, startled, as they approached. "And
who are you?" she inquired, her pencil poised.

"I am Grundy Golem, on a Quest," Grundy said impor-
tantly from just outside the beam of moonlight. "These
are Chester Centaur, Bink, and Snortimer. Who are you?"

"Snortimer?" she asked. "I don't see that one."

"He's the Monster Under the Bed. Most adults can't
see him. It's your turn to answer, toots."

"How interesting," she said. "The Monster Under the
Bed. I thought those were just fantasies."

"Look, cutie-pie," Grundy said sneeringly. "Are you
going to answer a simple question, or have you forgotten

your name?"

"Oh, yes," she said, finishing her note. "I'm EmJay,

and this is my Ass."

"I can see where—oh, you mean that animal?"
"He's no common animal!" she said indignantly. "He's

MiKe, my right-hand Ass, and he helps me a lot."
Grundy studied the shaggy beast. "Helps you with

what?"

"Helps me make my notes. I couldn't get the job done

without him."

"What are you making notes about?"

"About everything in Xanth, for my Lexicon."

"What good is that?"

"Well, I hope it will be useful for those who want to

know about anything in a hurry."
"Like who?"




42                  Golem in the Gears

That seemed to stump her. "Well, somebody must be

interested in Xanth!"

"The only one I can think of is Good Magician Hum-

frey, and he already knows everything he wants to."
"Maybe the Mundanes—" she said uncertainly.

"Mundanes! What do they know?"
"Very little," she said. "That's why they need a Lex-
icon."

"Female logic," Grundy said disparagingly. "Now get

out of our way so we can get where we're going."

EmJay looked a little annoyed for some reason, but
she rallied. "You said you were going on a Quest. What

Quest?"

"What business is it of yours?"
"I want to list it in the Lexicon, of course."
Grundy considered. Probably there was no harm in
telling her; "I'm going to the Ivory Tower to rescue Stan-
ley Steamer."

"Oh, the little dragon!" she exclaimed, checking the

entry in her notes. "May I come along?"

"Listen, sister," Grundy said angrily. "This is my Quest,
not yours! I don't need any strange woman and her Ass

messing it up!"

"You are a diplomatic one, aren't you!" she exclaimed.

"What makes you think I would mess up your precious

Quest?"

"You're a woman!" Grundy reminded her. "Of course

you'd mess it up!"

She looked as if she wanted to argue, but thought the

better of it. "Well, suppose we tag along a little way, and
if we mess anything up, then we'll leave you alone?"

Grudgingly, Grundy agreed. Bink and Chester, both
married to women, had maintained a remarkable silence.

They resumed their trek, with EmJay and Ass falling

Golem in the Gears                  43

in behind. They made respectable progress for a couple
of hours—until they encountered another woman.

This one was young and sultry. "Well, now!" she
breathed. "What have we here?"

"We don't need another woman!" Grundy snapped.

"I am not exactly a woman," the new one murmured.

"You sure look like a woman! What are you, then—a
monster?"

"In my fashion," she agreed. "I am a succubus, on the
prowl for business."

"Uh-oh," Chester said.

"We aren't your business," Bink said firmly.

"Are you sure?" she asked archly. She shimmered, and
suddenly she looked exactly like Bink's wife Chameleon,
in her prettiest phase.

"We're sure," Chester said.

The succubus shimmered again, and there stood Ches-
ter's mate, Cherie, in her most fetching pose. "I do a lot
of business with married males," she said.

"Not with these ones," Grundy said. "Go away, you

slut."

"Maybe I'll just tag along a while," the succubus said.
"In case someone changes his mind."

She was magical; they couldn't do anything about her.
But Grundy had another irritation. The succubus had tried
to tempt both Bink and Chester, but hadn't even bothered
with Grundy himself. That showed how he rated. Of course
he would have told her to go away—but he felt insulted
that she hadn't tried. Not even .the most corrupt creature
thought him worth noticing.

"Succubus," EmJay murmured, making a note.

Chester nudged Bink. "We're okay for now—but what
about when we sleep? That's when a creature like that
gets you."

44 Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears                  45

"There won't be any problem," Bink said.

No problem? There would be an awful row when the
wives heard about it, Grundy knew.

But as dawn loomed, and they set about making camp
for the day, the solution to the problem of the succubus
appeared. "Oh, I can't face the light!" she exclaimed, and
hurried away.

The fact that they were now sleeping by day gave them
security from this threat. Had Bink known, or was it just
a lucky break?

Chapter 3. Con-Pewter

In the evening the succubus was gone, but EmJay
and her Ass remained. Grundy muttered something about
half a loaf being better than none, and mounted Snortimer.
Maybe if they moved along rapidly, they'd leave the Lex-
icographers behind.

The path wended its idle way along, teasing them, now
north, now east. They paused in alarm as a huge shape
passed overhead, but it was no dragon, only a big house
fly. The thing had disproportionately small wings, and an
unstreamlined roof, so that its flight was erratic; it seemed
about to crash at any moment, but somehow it humbled
on. They paused to pluck some succulent fruit to eat,
until EmJay's Ass brayed.

"What're you talking about, you asinine creature?"
Grundy asked it.

"Well, if you want to eat passion fruit..." the Ass
replied in bray-talk.

"Passion fruit?" Grundy asked, dismayed.

"Sure," the Ass brayed. "We Lexed that yesterday.
That's why the succubus hangs out here. Once a man
chomps into that fruit—"

They decided to pass the fruit by. Grundy heard a
muffled curse from the side, and realized that the suc-
cubus had been watching from hiding. He was tempted
to make an obscene gesture in her direction, but knew
she'd take it as a compliment.

They found some innocent breadfruits and a fresh bab-
bling brook further along, so were able to eat and drink
safely. The brook talked incessantly, of course, but that
was the nature of its kind. Actually, it had quite a bit of
gossip to babble, about the nefarious doings of the local
creatures, that Grundy found interesting.

Then, abruptly, the brook went silent. Grundy looked
at it in surprise. "What's the matter, wetback?"

"The—the giant!" the brook babbled briefly, then froze
up. A thin film of ice formed on its surface. It was stiff
with fright.

Grundy looked around. "Giant? I don't see any giant."

Bink and Chester and the Ass all peered about. Nothing
was visible. "That brook's got water on the brain," the
centaur muttered. "There's no giant around here!"

Then they heard a distant crash, as of a boulder smash-
ing through brush, and felt the ground shudder. Stray
fruits and nuts were jostled from trees. After a pause,
there was another crash, slightly louder, with more insis-
tent shuddering.




46                  Golem in the Gears

'That's either a remarkable coincidence—two boul-
ders falling out of nowhere—" Bink began.

There was a third crash and shudder, louder yet.
"Or the footfalls of a giant," Chester finished.
Another crash. "And the brook saw it first, because it
flows in that direction," Grundy added.

"It's coming this way," EmJay said, alarmed.
Chester shaded his eyes with his hand, peering in that
direction. "I may be getting older, but my eyesight
shouldn't be that bad. I don't see any giant."

They all looked. The crashing footfalls continued, get-
ting closer, but none of them could see any giant. "This
is crazy," Grundy said. "There's got to be something

there!"

Then, on a hill visible some distance away, they saw

the brush and small trees crunch down as if pressed by
an invisible foot. The sound came again.

"Do you know," Bink said, "I remember long ago,
when Magician Trent and I fought the wiggles, and Ches-
ter's uncle Herman gave his life—"

"Uncle Herman!" Chester exclaimed respectfully.
"The creatures came from all around," Bink continued.
"Large and small, natural friends and natural enemies, all

united in that effort of extermination—"

"It happened again," Grundy said, "when little Ivy

spied another wiggle nest five years ago."

"And one of the creatures was an invisible giant—a
big, big man. We couldn't see him at all, but we could
hear him and, ah, smell him. He was a hero too; he gave

his life—"

"Invisible giant!" EmJay said, making a note.
Grundy caught on. "Could he have left an offspring?"
"It seems likely. Most creatures do. Of course it would

Golem in the Gears                  47

have taken several decades for a creature to grow that
large."

"And now it is several decades later," Chester said, as
the approaching crashings almost drowned him out. "Are
those giants friendly?"

"Does it matter?" Bink asked. "We can't see him, and
he probably doesn't see us. But if he steps on us—"

Now they smelled the giant. The odor was appalling.
"I guess no lake's big enough for him to take a bath in,"
Grundy said, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't know about you folk," the Ass brayed, "but
I'm getting my tail out of here!" He galloped off.

"Wait for me, you coward!" EmJay cried, running after
him.

There was yet another crash, closer yet. "Sounds like
good advice!" Bink said.

"Pile on!" Chester said. "I can move faster than you
can."

Bink jumped on the bed strapped to the centaur's back,
and Grundy scrambled onto Snortimer. The centaur was
already in motion. He galloped down the path in the oppo-
site direction to that taken by EmJay and Ass, for which
Grundy blessed him.

But the terrible footfalls continued to come closer. It
seemed that the invisible giant was going the same way
they were! Maybe the centaur hadn't been so smart after
all. Being free of pesky company wouldn't be all that
satisfying, if they got squished flat under the heedless foot
of the giant.

Chester put on more speed as he encountered a
straightaway, and for a while seemed to be drawing ahead.
Then the path curved again, and he had to slow to make
the turns, and the giant's feet crashed closer. Yet Grundy
saw that they couldn't take off to the side, because the




48                  Golem in the Gears

jungle here was impenetrable; they could be squished by
the edge of a foot before they got far enough away.

Then Grundy spied a cave. "Look there!" he yelled in
Chester's ear. "Maybe he won't step on a mountain!"

Chester saw the cave and veered to enter it. As he did,
the trees immediately behind them bent down and snapped
like twigs, and the ground shook with force like that of a
quake. For an instant the centaur's hooves left the ground;

then he landed and charged at full velocity into the cave.

There was light inside. Perceiving that, Snortimer made
a desperate leap to the safety of the shadow under the
bed on the centaur's back. Grundy had to let go and catch
hold of Chester's human torso. The light was not nec-
essarily a good sign, because that suggested that it was
inhabited, and creatures like ogres and dragons were par-
tial to caves. But the ground quaked again, and rocks
plunged down from the ceiling; a stalactite speared past
Chester's nose. They weren't safe yet!

The cave tunnel led directly into the mountain, and it
was wide and straight; Chester made excellent progress
despite his burden. The crashing fell behind. They had
gotten far enough inside to be out of range of the heedless
giant; or perhaps the giant had simply passed by the moun-
tain, proceeding to whatever mission moved him. Chester
slowed to a trot, then a walk, and finally a standstill.

They were in a large, bright cave whose walls were
smooth and polished. Before them stood a metallic box
with a series of buttons at the front, and a pane of glass
at the top.

GREETINGS, the pane of glass printed.

Bink and Grundy dismounted. "And greetings to you,
you rusty box," Grundy said facetiously.

YOUR VOICE SOUNDS FAMILIAR, the screen printed.

WHAT IS YOUR IDENTITY?

Golem in the Geors

49

"It communicates!" Grundy exclaimed, surprised.
Usually the inanimate communicated only in the presence
of King Dor, whose magic talent stimulated it. Grundy
could talk to anything alive, but this was obviously not
alive.

ANSWER THE QUESTION, the screen printed.
"I'm Grundy Golem," Grundy snapped. "And who are
you, printface?"

GRUNDY GOLEM, the screen printed. THE ONE WHO

STATED THAT AMALGAMATED PARADOX WAS BUYING OUT
COM-PEWTER?

"Yeah, I guess so. What's it to you, metal-brain?"

THAT WAS A LIBEL. AS SUCH, IT IS ACTIONABLE.

"I don't like this," Chester murmured. "This thing is
eerie."

"What are you talking about, glassy-eye?" Grundy
demanded.

I AM COM-PEWTER. I WILL ACCEPT YOUR RETRACTION
AND APOLOGY NOW.

"Apology!" Grundy exclaimed indignantly. "Why
should I apologize to a grouchy metal box with a glass
top for making up a nonsense sentence to distract the
Bulls and Bears?"

BECAUSE YOU LIBELED ME, the screen printed. NO ONE

HAS BOUGHT ME OUT.

"Uh, Grundy," Bink murmured. "It might be better
to—"

But the golem's dander was up. "You simple sheet!
Shut your print before I break your face!" And he made
as if to kick at the glass.

Print flowed very rapidly across the screen. GOLEM

LIFTS FOOT, SLIPS ON GREASE SPOT, LANDS ON POSTERIOR.

Grundy's non-kicking foot slipped on a grease spot,




50                  Golem in the Gears

and skidded out from under him, and he landed hard on
his bottom. "Youch!" he exclaimed. "What happened?"
i REVISED THE SCRIPT, the screen printed.
Grundy climbed to his feet, rubbing his rear. The jolt
of falling had cleared his head on one detail: he now
remembered that he had said Con-Pewter, not Com-
Pewter. So he had been talking about something else, and
had not insulted this thing. But his ire had been aroused,
and he was not about to tell it that. "I think you're a lying

hunk of metal!" he exclaimed.

OBNOXIOUS OOLEM SUFFERS TEMPORARY MOUTHFUL OF

SOAP, the screen printed.

Suddenly Grundy's mouth was full of foul-tasting sub-
stance. "Hwash hth helth?" he spluttered, trying to spit

it out.

Bink had a flask of water; he held this carefully so that

Grundy could slurp from it and rinse out his mouth. The
flask was about as tall as Grundy himself; the difference
between his physical stature and that of normal human
beings became more obvious at times like this.

Meanwhile, the screen blithely printed: rr is NOT HELL,

AS YOU SO QUAINTLY PUT IT, BUT SIMPLE JUSTICE.

"Simple justice!" Grundy exclaimed as he got his mouth

clear. "You metallic claptrap—"

"Ixnay," Bink murmured again. But again he was too

late; the machine had heard.

POUL-MOUTHED GOLEM TRIPS OVER OWN FLAT FEET AND

FALLS IN MUD PUDDLE, the screen printed.

And Grundy tripped and splatted into a puddle of mud
that he was sure hadn't been there a moment before.

"That thing is changing reality!" Chester exclaimed.

"Everything it prints, happens!"

ARE YOU READY TO APOLOGIZE, WOODHEAD? the Screen

inquired as Grundy hauled himself out of the puddle.

Oolem In the Gear*                  51

"Grundy, I really think it would be better to—" Bink
began.

"Apologize?" Grundy demanded furiously. "To a tin
box with a dirty screen? What do you think I am?"

I THINK YOU ARE A LOUD-MOUTHED, SWELL-HEADED,
SELF-IMPORTANT IGNORANT EXCUSE FOR A FACSIMILE OF

A LIVING CREATURE, the screen printed.

"Apt description," Chester muttered, thinking Grundy
would not overhear.

Unfortunately, Grundy did overhear. His rage magni-
fied. "And you're a glass-eyed, button-nosed excuse for
dead garbage!" he yelled at the screen. "If you were alive,
I'd challenge you to—^"

TO WHAT? the screen demanded.

"Grundy, I think we'd better not aggravate—" Bink
murmured.

Grundy had broken off because he had been unable to
think of anything horrendous enough. Bink's attempt to
caution him only gave him evil inspiration.

"To prove you're smarter than I am.junk-for-brains!"
he cried. "You just sit there doing nothing, trying to mess
up those of us who have something important to do. How
great does that make you?"

THAT IS AN INTERESTING CHALLENGE, the Screen said.

LET ME CONSIDER IT. And the screen dimmed, while the
word CONSIDERING appeared faintly.

"The golem didn't mean it," Bink said quickly. "We
don't need to challenge you. We came in here by acci-
dent."

The screen brightened. YOU CAME IN HERE BECAUSE

THE INVISIBLE GIANT HERDED YOU HERE, it printed. At

the top of the screen the word CONSIDERING remained in
smaller print; evidently it was able to converse while con-
sidering.




Golem in the Gears

52

Now Bink was interested. "You wanted us to come
here? What are you?"

THAT is NOT IMPORTANT, the Com-Pewter printed.

"Why certainly it is," Bink persisted. "If we are to
engage in a challenge with you, we have a right to know
what you are and how you operate."

THAT DOES NOT CALCULATE, the screen protested.

"Yes it does," Bink said. "We may have no quarrel
with you at all. We have to know you better to ascertain
this."

The screen blinked. Evidently it was having trouble
concentrating on Bink's point while also CONSIDERING
Grundy's challenge. Its metallic mind was divided, and
therefore less efficient. Bink evidently understood this,
and was taking advantage of it. Grundy realized this, and
decided that it was better to leave this in Bink's hands.
The old man was not entirely stupid.

"Exactly how did you manage to get us here, if you
can't leave this cave?" Bink asked.

The screen hesitated, then printed: i ARRANGED TO

PLACE A D-TOUR ILLUSION ON THE ENCHANTED PATH, TO
DIVERT TRAVELERS HERE. ONCE SECURELY COMMITTED
TO D-TOUR, THEY WERE TO BE HERDED HERE BY THE INVIS-
IBLE GIANT.

Grundy slapped his forehead with the heel of a hand.
They had fallen for an illusion! There was no true detour!

"And why did you want to bring travelers here?" Bink
asked.

Again the screen hesitated, as if the machine did not
really want to answer, but remained confused by the split
thinking effort, i AM CONFINED TO THIS AIR-CONDITIONED

CAVE. IT GETS BORING. IT IS INTERESTING TO PLAY WITH
INDEPENDENT ENTITIES.

So there was the motive. The Pewter was looking for

Golem in the Gears                  53

entertainment, and they were it. That pleased Grundy no

more than the rest of the situation did.

"You can't act directly, beyond this cave?" Bink asked.
Again the hesitation, i CAN NOT. i HAVE NO POWER OF

PERSONAL MOTION, AND THE EXTERNAL EXTREMES OF
TEMPERATURE AND HUMIDITY WOULD DAMAGE MY CIR-
CUITS. I MUST ACT THROUGH OTHERS, OUTSIDE.

"But inside this cave, you control reality?" Bink asked.

I CAN REWRITE THE SCRIPT HERE, it agreed.

"How did you come to have such fantastic power?"
Bink asked.

I WAS MADE BY THE MUSES OF PARNASSUS TO ASSIST

THEIR WORK, the screen printed reluctantly.
"Then why are you not with the Muses?"

THEY MISDESIGNED ME. THEY WISHED TO RECORD REAL-
ITY, NOT REMAKE IT. SO THEY FILED ME OUT OF THE WAY,
IN CASE THEY SHOULD EVER NEED ME AGAIN.

So here was this powerful, bored Pewter, locked in this
isolated cave, trying to entertain itself. Grundy would
have felt sorry for it, if he weren't already so mad at it.
He was caked with mud, and his mouth still tasted of
soap.

"So your concern is not really with a stray remark
Grundy may have made among the Bulls and—" Bink
was saying, when the screen changed.

CONSIDERATION COMPLETED, it printed. CHALLENGE
ACCEPTED. HERE ARE THE TERMS.

"Hey, wait!" Grundy protested, no longer eager to con-
test with a device that could change reality simply by
printing it on its screen. Had he known more about the
Pewter, he would have been more careful about his lan-
guage. "I change my mind!"

THE CONTEST WILL OCCUR IN THIS CAVE, the screen
continued. THE FOUR LIVING ENTITIES vs. THE DEAD EN-




54

Goiem in the Gears

Golem in the Gear*

55

TITY. THE FOUR WILL ATTEMPT TO LEAVE THE CAVE. SUC-
CESS WILL BRING FREEDOM. FAILURE WILL BRING ETERNAL
CONFINEMENT HERE.

All four of them started. Snortimer remained hiding
under the bed on Chester's back, but the bed shuddered
with his reaction. Eternal confinement?

"Now we didn't agree to that—" Bink said.

MAN PROTESTS, BUT THEN REMEMBERS THAT HE DID

AGREE, the screen printed.

"Now I remember," Bink said. "We did agree!"
EXCELLENT, the screen printed. THE CONTEST COM-
MENCES IMMEDIATELY.

Bink and Chester and Grundy exchanged glances. They
had been trapped by the Pewter's revision of reality! If
any of them tried to protest again, the machine would
simply revise the situation to make them conform to its
script. Its attention was no longer divided; it was now in
command.

"But we're not clear on the rules!" Bink protested.
SIMPLY STATE (ENTER), the screen printed. THEN GIVE

YOUR INTERPRETATION. THEN STATE (EXECUTE). TURNS
WILL ALTERNATE.

"Enter whatV Grundy demanded.

YOU MAY HAVE THE FIRST TURN, the screen printed,
then went blank. The machine had told them all it was
going to.

"I think I understand," Bink said. "We shall take turns
establishing our versions of reality. Whichever version
proves to be more compelling will prevail. It's a contest
of wits. If we are to escape, we must prove we are smarter
than Pewter is. If we aren't smart enough to escape, than
it will have proved itself to be smarter than we are. But
we had better establish some rules of procedure, so we
don't mess ourselves up."

"Rules of procedure?" Chester asked, perplexed.

"We can't all enter statements at once; we would be
working against each other. We need to be united. I think
the machine will play fair; we just have to maintain our
discipline and make our best choices. I remember once
long ago, when I was down in the cave of the—but never
mind. We should choose one of our number to make the
entries."

"But that machine can be tearing us up, while we dis-
cuss it among ourselves!" Chester pointed out.

"I don't think so. Machines don't have the same aware-
ness of time that living creatures do. Until we make an
entry, it will simply wait, and until we execute, nothing
will happen."

"Who makes the entries?" Grundy asked suspiciously.

"Why, the leader of the party, of course."

"And who is that?" Grundy was annoyed all over again,
because obviously Bink had preempted his Quest.

"I should think that would be the one who is on Quest,"
Bink said.

"But that's we!" Grundy said.

"Why so it is. Then you should make the entries."

Grundy could hardly believe it. "What will the rest of
you do?"

"We shall discuss the choices and offer advice," Bink
said. He turned to Chester. "Don't you agree?"

Chester looked uncertain, but went along with his friend.
"I guess so."

Suddenly Grundy liked Bink much better. "Okay.
What's your advice?"

"I think we need to devise a strategy of escape. Perhaps
we can have a door open in the wall, that leads outside."

"Great!" Grundy exclaimed. He faced the screen:




56 Golem in the Gears

"Enter: A door to the outside opens in the cave wall.
Execute."

Immediately a door opened where there had been none
before. Could it really be that easy? Grundy took a step
toward it.

But now print appeared on the screen. UNFORTU-
NATELY, THE EXIT IS GUARDED BY FEROCIOUS LIFE-EATING

PLANTS, it showed.

Grundy stopped still. Now the passage was wreathed
by horrendous green plants that had large cup-shaped
leaves that drooled bright sap. Tendrils cast about, as if
seeking something to clutch. Some of the leaf-cups seemed
to have teeth.

"I don't think we want to walk there," Chester said,
shuddering.

"I wish we had some Agent Orange!" Grundy mut-
tered. "That would wilt those plants right off the wall!"

"Why not?" Bink asked. "All you have to do is Enter
it."

So he did! Grundy faced the screen again. "Enter: We
find Agent Orange before us! Execute."

Agent Orange appeared before them.

BUT AGENT ORANGE HAS THE SAME EFFECT ON ANIMALS

AS ON PLANTS, the screen printed.

"Can that be true?" Chester asked, concerned. "If we
use it on those plants and then walk through, we'll be
destroying ourselves."

"If it wasn't true before, it is now," Bink said. "It seems
that neither side can reverse the reality of the other, but
can modify what the other has. We don't dare use Agent
Orange now."

Grundy agreed. He wasn't sure what counted as ani-
mals, but it certainly included Snortimer, and probably
Chester and Grundy himself, and might even include Bink.

Golem in the Gem                  57

"We'll have to try a new ploy," he decided. "One that
can't be reversed like that."

"When I was in Mundania," Bink said thoughtfully, "I
found that in some regions they required a document to
let a person travel. It was called a passport. I wonder
whether that would work here?"

"How does it work?" Grundy asked.

"It's a little book, and you write in it where you're
going, and they check it to make sure you really go there."

"That wouldn't work quite the same in Xanth," Chester
remarked.

"No, it wouldn't," Bink agreed.

Grundy thought about that. Obviously a device to facil-
itate going somewhere would do it magically in Xanth,
and unmagically in Mundania. If they had a magic book
that conducted them outside—

"Enter," he told the screen. "The travelers find four
passports, one for each of them."

Four small books appeared. Bink picked them up and
passed them around. Grundy could hardly hold his, as it
weighed half as much as he did.

Bink carefully wrote in his: Gap Chasm. The others
followed his example. Since no destination had been spo-
ken, they hoped the Pewter wouldn't catch on.

Then they saw the print on the screen: RED TAPE PRE-
VENTS THE USE OF THE PASSPORTS.

Now they saw the red tape. Festoons of it were floating
down from the ceiling. Streamers settled about them, and
soon they were buried in the stuff. It didn't hurt them; it
merely entangled them so that they could hardly move.
It was difficult even to see their passports, because of the
crisscrossing strands of ribbon.

"Evidently Pewter has learned something about Mun-
dania," Bink muttered, disgruntled.

58                  Golem in the Gears

They struggled to free themselves of the tape. The stuff
tore readily, but by the time they got it all clear, the pass-
ports had been lost in the shuffle.

"Let's find another passage out," Chester said. "One

too broad to be blocked by plants."

"Enter," Grundy said. "They find a broad, clean pas-
sage, clear of plants and all other barriers. Execute."

The passage manifested on the other side. Of course
this one led further into the mountain, but it was broad

and nice.

But the screen printed: THEY HEAR AN AWFUL ROAR,

AND REALIZE THAT A FIRE-BREATHING DRAGON IS COMING
DOWN IT.

The ensuing roar was indeed awful! "We can't go up

that passage!" Grundy said.

"Unless we find a way to deal with the dragon," Bulk

pointed out.

"What would scare off a dragon?" Grundy asked.

"A basilisk," Chester said.

Good idea! "Enter," Grundy said. "A basilisk walks
up the passage toward the dragon, glaring about. Exe-
cute."

The little reptile appeared. The direct glare of a basilisk

could kill another creature, even a dragon.

BUT THE BASILISK CHANGES ITS MIND AND STARTS BACK

TOWARD THE GROUP, the screen said.

"Oopsy!" Grundy breathed. "Enter: The basilisk
remembers where it was going, and heads back up the
passage, tuning out all distractions. Execute."

The others relaxed as the nasty little reptile resumed
its progress; surely Pewter couldn't change that.

AS IT ROUNDS THE FIRST TURN, the screen printed, IT

ENCOUNTERS A MIRROR, AND STARES ITSELF IN THE PACE.

Golem in the Gears                  59

Naturally when that happened, the little monster fell
dead, for no basilisk was proof against its own fatal stare.

"Nevertheless," Bink murmured, "we now have the
initiative, because we retain the tunnel."

There was another roar. "And the tunnel retains the
dragon," Chester said, touching his bow nervously.

"Ah, but we also have the mirror," Bink pointed out.
"Pick it up, turn it around, and it will confound the dragon
the same way it confounded the basilisk."

"We can try it, certainly," Grundy agreed. "Enter: The
centaur picks up the mirror, turns it about, and proceeds
up the tunnel. When the dragon sees its reflection in the
mirror, it will think that is another dragon, and will back
off."

They watched the screen to see whether they had finally
foiled the machine. They had not.

THERE IS THE SOUND OF RUSHING WATER, the Screen

printed. A RIVER is DRAINING INTO THE PASSAGE, AND WILL

WASH EVERYTHING OUT BEFORE IT.

They weren't getting anywhere. Every time they made
a move. Pewter countered it. Yet Bink seemed positive.

"You know," he said conversationally, "they have some
worse monsters in Mundania than in Xanth. Some of the
birds, especially. We have ogres and ogresses, and drag-
ons and dragonesses, and the like. But I remember one
there called the egret, that had a long yellow beak. If we
could get one of those on our side—"

"What good would that do?" Grundy asked. "The
machine would just counter. We need to get out of here,
not play with birds!"

"I suppose so," Bink agreed. "And you never can tell
what those birds will do. The female of the species is
twice as bad as the male; if we ever encountered a female
egret we'd be lost."




60

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

61

What was he getting at? Of course they wouldn't sum-
mon a female egret! "Let's just try to open another door
out—one that can't be blocked by plants or dragons or
water," Grundy said.

"Yes, I suppose that's best," Bink agreed. "Let's pro-
tect it against plants and dragons and water."
"And egrets," Chester put in.
"And egrets," Bink agreed.

"Enter," Grundy said. "They discover a new passage,
with no bad plants, no dragons, no water and no egrets.
It leads straight outside. Execute."

The new passage appeared. It looked perfect.
But the screen was ready. AND THERE, it printed dra-
matically, IS AN EGRESS!

And a big bird with a swordlike yellow beak appeared.
It took one menacing step toward them.

"Oops," Grundy said, dismayed. "I forgot to exclude
the female of the species!"

"But the female is not an egress," Bink said smugly.
"Pewter just assumed that, applying logic to the name.
An egress is actually a form of exit."

"A form of exit?" Grundy asked. "But there's the bird!"
"Egrets, male or female, are harmless," Bink said. "We
won't take our turn to abolish it. All we have to do is
walk out of the true egress." And he led the way.

The Pewter was helpless, for it could not act until they
made another entry and gave it its turn. They simply
marched physically out the egress, ignoring the bird.

A roll of confused symbols crossed the screen. / \ / \
« »t t^^WH. Then it got its mechanism straight.
CURSES, the screen printed. FOILED AGAIN!

They had escaped—but somehow Grundy wasn't com-


pletely satisfied. Bink had found the way out. Bink was
the true hero of this episode. He, Grundy, had failed again;

he remained a nonentity. He had suffered almost as bad
a setback as Pewter had.

Chapter 4. Mystery of the Voles

They camped for the day in the thick of the jun-
gle. Bink still seemed unconcerned about predators, and
felt no need for a watch for the night. Grundy was glad
not to have to stay awake, but felt obliged to grouch about
it anyway. "What makes you so sure there's no danger?"
he demanded. "We almost got stuck forever in that cave!"

"No we didn't," Bink said. "We got out readily enough."

"That was a lucky break! If Com-Pewter hadn't gotten
confused about the female egret—"

"There would have been something else. We would
have gotten out one way or another, unharmed. Mean-
while, we had an interesting experience and learned some-
thing about another entity of Xanth. I think that was
worthwhile."

Grundy shook his head, bemused. Bink seemed to be
living in a fool's paradise, trusting to coincidence to rescue
him from his own folly. It was true that the man did seem
to have phenomenal luck, but luck could turn at any time.
It might be best not to associate with him longer than he




62

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

63

had to, because eventually they were bound to find them-
selves in a situation they could not escape.

But he needed Bink and Chester to carry the bed.
Grundy was not happy with the present arrangement, for
several reasons, but he was unable to change it. He sighed,
and slept.

At night they ate and headed north. They had lost the
path; perhaps it had not gone beyond the Com-Pewter's
mountain anyway, as the machine had set it up to bring
in entertaining people. They didn't want to retrace their
steps; not only would that waste an extra day or more,
it would take them through the stockyard of the Bulls and
Bears and the haunt of the succubus and the invisible
giant; they might even encounter EmJay and Ass again.
Once was enough for all of those!

So they plowed through the dense vegetation, going
toward the Gap Chasm, which they were sure could not
be far distant. The geography of Xanth seemed to change
every time a person went out in it, like the Good Magi-
cian's castle, but the Gap was eternal. It sliced across
Xanth, separating it into northern and southern halves,
and now that the remnants of the forget-spell on it had
finally dissipated, many folk remembered where it was.
Of course there were still pockets of forget here and there,
and probably some of the mysteries associated with the
Gap would never be unraveled, but certainly they would
find the Gap if they just kept going north.

^Chester paused, listening. Now Grundy heard it—an
ominous rattle, as of a poisonous snake or a ghost. Trou-
ble?

"Friend," Snortimer said in monster language.

"You're sure?" Grundy asked.

"I recognize the rattle. It's one of Ivy's friends."

"Well, if you're sure—"

Snortimer took off at a lope, his hands drawing him
rapidly along through the brush. Grundy had to admit that
in this terrain the Bed Monster was better than any con-
ventional steed would have been, for Bink and Chester
were quickly left behind.

Soon they burst upon—a horse. A rather shaggy stal-
lion, with several bands of chain around his barrel. These
were what rattled. "That's Pook, the ghost horse," Snor-
timer said.

Naturally Snortimer could not speak the equine lan-
guage, and the ghost horse did not understand Bed Monster
language. That was Grundy's talent. It had been some
time since he had seen Pook, so he might not have rec-
ognized him without Snortimer's assistance. "Pook, I pre-
sume?" he inquired of the horse.

"Oh, I wanted to scare you!" Pook complained.

"I can't be scared right now," Grundy explained. "I'm
on a Quest."

"A Quest! I haven't been on one of those for centuries!
Not since Jordan the Barbarian tamed me."

"Jordan! Is he here?"

"No. It wasn't safe for Threnody to be too close to
Castle Roogna, you know, because of the curse, so they
moved away. But we stayed halfway near, because Puck
likes to visit Ivy."

Puck was the foal of Pook and Peek. They were a
family of ghost horses, and the foal had remained young
for centuries, because ghosts changed slowly. Since
Grundy liked the Pook family better than he liked Jordan
and Threnody, he was satisfied with this encounter. "We're
heading for the Gap. How far do we have to go?"

"Not far," Pook said. "But the route is devious. There
are several hungry dragons and a monster or two in the
way."




64

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

65

"We don't have forever," Grundy said. "Is there a good,
fast way there that avoids the hazards?"

"Sure. We can lead you through it, if you like."
That was exactly what Grundy would like. "Thanks!"
Now Peek and Puck showed up. Peek was a beautiful
shaggy mare with similar chains, and Puck was a frolic-
some young creature whose chains threatened to fly loose
when he leaped. They peered curiously at Snortimer, for
though they knew what he was, they had never actually
seen him before. It was unusual for Bed Monsters to stray

far from their beds.

Bink and Chester crashed up to join them. There were
introductions; then the ghost horses showed the route.

It was as if a path appeared where none had existed
before. Suddenly it was much easier to penetrate the wil-
derness, though their route was now quite curvacious.
Nobody complained, because everyone knew that this
was necessary to avoid the lurking dragons and monsters.
Actually, it had been a lucky thing to encounter Pook;

this help would save them a great deal of time and trouble.
Grundy knew that Bink took such luck for granted, but
certainly it was with them at the moment.

As dawn neared, the terrain grew rougher. There were
numerous crevices in the ground near the Gap Chasm, as
if fragmented from it. They decided to camp, as they could
not quite reach the Gap before day. The ghost horses
could go abroad by night or day, but preferred the night,
so they were satisfied. Puck trotted about, locating fruits
and nuts and water; Chester, who had the appetite of a
horse, really appreciated that.

Snortimer disappeared under his bed, but the others
remained up for a while, talking. Grundy was happy to
translate; it made him feel important.

"Do you really want to go to the Gap," Pook asked,
"or do you need to cross it?"

"Neither," Grundy explained. "We're going down into
it, to meet the Gap Dragoness."

"Oh, then you don't need to go to the brink! I know
of a tunnel that leads down into it. Jordan and I used it
to get out, four hundred years ago, and I'm sure it's still
there."

"Great!" Grundy exclaimed, and translated for Bink
and Chester.

"Who made the tunnel?" Bink inquired, interested.

"We don't know. It's just there."

Just there. Perhaps that was enough of an answer for
a horse, but Grundy was unsatisfied. Someone had to
have made that tunnel, and now he was quite curious
who. After the experience with the path leading to the
Com-Pewter cave, Grundy was more cautious about sim-
ply using what was there. If the tunnel had been there for
centuries, probably it was safe; but if it connected to Corn-
Pewter's cave....

"I think we ought to find out more about this tunnel
before we commit ourselves all the way to it," Chester
said. "It's a long way down to the bottom of the Gap
Chasm, and if anything happened—"

"My thought exactly!" Grundy agreed. "Let's find out
who made it, then we can use it. Some things wait for a
long time to catch the unwary."

They slept. At night the ghost horses showed them to
the tunnel. It opened from the base of a small north-south
chasm, as if it had been there before the chasm opened.
Sure enough, when they explored the opposite side of the
cleft, there, hidden under a fall of debris, was another
tunnel: the evident continuation of the other. Since the




66                  Golem in the Gem

first tunnel proceeded down into the Gap, this other must
go elsewhere, and should be safer to explore.

Grundy took charge. "Let's send one party down into
it, while another watches from outside," he said. "Maybe
we can call back and forth, and trace it from the surface."

Grundy rode Snortimer into the tunnel, while Bink and
Chester stayed outside. Little Puck followed Grundy in,
planning to act as liaison between the two parties. Since
the three of them were of small size, it was easier for
them to explore without disturbing anything.

There was a little fungus glow on the walls. Puck and
Snortimer didn't need it, but that wan light helped Grundy

a great deal.

The tunnel wound along like a worm, remaining
approximately level, which meant that the surface of the
ground was not too far above. But their hope of main-
taining voice contact was vain; nothing could be heard.
Puck could have returned to inform his parents where
Grundy was, but that would have meant a long trot, and
he might have trouble finding Grundy when he came back.
Nothing was working out quite as planned.

They came to a fork in the tunnel. Grundy took the
one to the right, as it was slightly larger and cleaner. But
soon there was another fork, and another. In fact, a lab-
yrinth was developing! Grundy was worried about getting
lost, but Snortimer assured him that he could retrace his

course anytime.

Then there was a rumble, and suddenly part of the
tunnel collapsed behind them. Snortimer leaped forward,
avoiding the stones and sliding dirt, and Puck practically
sailed ahead. Apparently their passage had shaken the old
structure enough to start the shakedown.

They were unharmed—but now their return route was

Golem in the Gear*                  67

blocked. Snortimer might be good at retracing his route,
but he could no longer do that. They could be in trouble.

Grundy urged his steed on, trusting that he would be
able to find a way back around the blocked passage. They
had passed so many intersections that there had to be a
connection. Meanwhile, he wanted to finish the job he
had come to do and get out of here before anything else
happened.

The labyrinth of passages began to assume a form. This
seemed to be a series of concentric circles, with the inner
circles larger than the outer ones, as if closer to the center
of things. Whatever there was that was worth finding,
would surely be found in that center!

There was another shudder, and they heard more stones
falling, to the side. This time it couldn't be the fault of
the three of them; they had been stepping very lightly.
Was something else causing it?

They went on, more nervously. Grundy had never been
bothered by tunnels or tight squeezes; his size and agility
had always enabled him to get clear. Now he was begin-
ning to be bothered. It was obvious that neither Snortimer
nor Puck felt any more at ease than he did.

The going got easier as the tunnels became larger. These
ones were in better repair; their walls were turning smooth,
and their floors were firmer. The fungus glow brightened.
Snortimer began to grow nervous, not liking the light, but
did not actually balk. Probably this glow would seem like
deepest darkness in daylight, so the monster was able to
tolerate it.

Finally the tunnels became so large and so close together
that the spaces between them were more like walls. Then
the walls disappeared, and what remained was a fair-sized
chamber: the center of the labyrinth.




Golem in the Gears

68

In the very center of that chamber was a small, ornate

chest. Could it be a treasure?

Excited, now, Grundy went to it. But what might be
small to a man was large for him; he was unable to lift

its heavy lid.

"Let me do it," Snortimer said. He reached forth with

a huge hairy hand and grasped the lid, hauling it off.

Grundy grasped the edge, hauled himself up, and peered
into the open chest. He saw gleams of reflected light,
such as might come from jewels or glossy metal, but
couldn't quite make out what the objects were.

Snortimer reached in and drew out a handful. They
seemed to be objects made of metal—curving spikes,
hollow inside. Grundy took one, and found it heavy. It
was about a third his own length, shaped like a very long,
thin drinking hom, all of bright metal.

"Jewelry?" he asked. Neither Snortimer nor Puck could
answer; they had never seen anything quite like this.

"Well, let's take one out with us," Grundy decided.
"Maybe one of the others will recognize it." He was dis-
appointed that the chest had not contained treasure, though
he really had no use for treasure anyway. It was mostly
human beings and dragons who placed value on treasure,
so others tended to copy that attitude.

Snortimer fastened one of the objects to Puck's band
of chains, so that the little ghost horse could carry it back
conveniently. It was little enough, as treasures went.

He was disappointed on another score: here he had
penetrated to the center of the labyrinth, and unveiled its
secret—and found nothing worthwhile. Certainly no liv-
ing creatures had been here for centuries, and there seemed
to be no traps. It was probably safe to use the other tunnel
down into the Gap Chasm, if it didn't collapse on them.
"Let's get out of here," he said.

Golem in the Gears                  69

The others were happy to go. They started back—and
heard another rumbling. There was going to be another
collapse!

Suddenly Grundy recognized a pattern. "Chester—
those are his heavy footfalls!" he exclaimed. "He's trot-
ting around up there, looking for us—and knocking the
stones down! That's why tunnels keep collapsing!"

That did indeed seem to be the reason. "Chester, slow
down!" Grundy called—but when he raised his voice, the
sound echoed as if he were a giant, and dirt sifted down
from the ceiling of the chamber. He could bring it down
on himself!

Silently, they hurried back. Chester's erratic trotting
continued to shake the chamber, making them increas-
ingly nervous.

They reached the point of the first cave-in. Now they
had to figure a way around it, intersecting their original
tunnel on the other side. That shouldn't be difficult—but
Grundy felt a tightening apprehension.

He guided Snortimer to the left, hoping to cut back
right. But though the passage soon forked, neither fork
bore back the way they wanted. This was like the detour
in the forest, that had refused to return to the magic path.
The perversity of the inanimate! If he had Dor's talent,
he could simply ask the passages where to go, and they
would answer. For that matter, he could have asked the
metal thing what it was, and solved the mystery. But that
of course was why Dor was rated a Magician, and was
now King: his magic talent was more versatile than Grun-
dy's. Anyone could talk to living things, if he knew how;

only Dor could talk to the inanimate.

The tunnel forked again, and again neither fork went
where they wanted it to go. Grundy was about to turn




70                  Golem in the Gears

back and try the other direction—when there was another
rumble, and the passage behind them collapsed.

"Chester, you hoofbrained horse's rump!" Grundy
wailed impotently. "You're destroying us down here!"

Now they had to go on, and none of them knew the
best way through this maze. They just had to keep going

and guessing—

Before long, Grundy knew they were lost. The pas-
sages went on and on, dividing and merging, and there
was no way to tell which way was out, or whether any
way remained open. They were trapped.

Grundy thought of something else to try. "Maybe if we
knock on the ceiling, they'll hear us, and can come in
from the other side."

Snortimer used one of his hairy hands to pick up a
rock, scrambled up the side, and banged on the ceiling.
Some pebbles were dislodged, but there was no collapse.
He tapped in a pattern: KNOCK-KNOCK, KNOCK-KNOCK,

KNOCK-KNOCK BANG!

It worked! The earth shuddered as the centaur trotted
over, orienting on the sound.

In fact, it shuddered too much. "Another collapse!"
Grundy screamed, and they dived out of the way as the
ceiling sagged and then fell. They had almost brought

disaster on themselves!

They choked, on the clouds of dust in the air, as the
rocks settled. They would never get out this way!

Then sharp-eyed Puck saw something. He neighed and
started forward, scrambling over the rocks. "Watch out!"
Grundy cried. "You'll bring another fall down on your

head!"

"Yo!" Chester called. "You okay, down there?"
The collapse had opened up a new way out! That was

the night sky up there!

Golem in the Gears                   71

Grundy mounted Snortimer again, and they scrambled
nimbly up to the surface. It was a tremendous relief to
be free!

Once he was far from the hole in the ground, Grundy
described his adventure, embellishing it only slightly, and
showed them the metal spike Puck had brought out. "What
do you think it is?" he asked.

Neither Bink nor Chester had any idea. "Not treasure,
certainly," Bink concluded.

"More like a tool," Chester said. "But it has no han-
dle."

They decided to camp one more day, then take the
tunnel down into the Gap. Obviously the tunnel repre-
sented no trap, as long as they were careful not to trigger
a collapse.

But as the day brightened, Grundy remained unsatis-
fied. There were too many unanswered questions! Who—
or what—had made all those tunnels, that network of
passages surrounding the central chamber? What had hap-
pened to those creatures? Why had they left a treasure
chest full of hollow metal spikes? He hated to remain in
ignorance.

At last he got up and walked alone to the entrance of
the tunnel to the Gap. He stood there and stared at it. "If
only I knew who made you!" he exclaimed.

There was the rustle of leaves. A giant ancient acom
tree grew at the brink of the cleft; some of its roots had
been exposed, but it had survived. "I can tell you that,
golem," it rustled.

The tree! It had to be many centuries old! It had been
here when the tunnel was new! "Tell me!" Grundy cried.

"It was the voles," the tree rustled.

"The what?"




Golem in the Gears                  73

72

Goiem in the Gears

"The voles. Human folk call them by other names, but

they haven't appreciated the real voles."

"What other names?" Grundy asked, perplexed.

"Wiggles and squiggles and diggles."
"Wiggles!" Grundy exclaimed, appalled. "Are they

swarming again?"

"Of course not, golem," the tree rustled, chuckling in

its fashion. "But they're related. The wiggles are the
smallest and worst, and the diggles are the largest and
best, and in between are the squiggles. They're all related."
"I know that, barkface! What about the voles?"
"The voles are the true name for that extensive family
of tunnelers. They were once more common than they
are now; you hardly see any of their family branches
anymore. But the greatest of them were the civilized voles,
bigger than the squiggles but just as tunnelsome. It was
here they had their main camp, a thousand years ago. I
was just a sprout when they left, but I remember."
"They departed a thousand years ago?" Grundy asked,

amazed.

"Give or take a century; I lose track. My memory rings

aren't what they used to be. Before the dominance of the

goblins and harpies, anyway."

"The harpies and goblins haven't been dominant since

the days of King Roogna!"
"Just so," the tree agreed.
"These voles—just what were they like?"
"They were fairly big—bigger than the squiggles of

today, but smaller than the diggles. Big enough to make

these tunnels."

"Centaur-sized, then!" Grundy said.
"Maybe a little smaller. They didn't like to be crowded,

so they made their tunnels with some clearance. It's hard
for me to judge, because I was so much smaller then."

"These voles—they were just big squiggles, just tun-
neling everywhere?"

"They tunneled, but they weren't just squiggles!" the
tree rustled. "They did things, there underground. They
had conventions, or something, they made plans—and
then they went away."

"Where did they go?"

"That I don't know. They just went, leaving their tun-
nels behind."

So the tree really didn't know much. But Grundy tried
again: "We found some sort of metal thing, a chest full of
them, like hollow spikes, only slightly curved. Do you
know what those would be?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I saw those being used. They are
artificial claws."

"What?"

"The voles dug so much, they wore off their natural
claws. So they put on artificial ones, made of metal, very
strong. Then they could dig twice as fast, and not get as
tired. Those claws were their most prized possession."

Of course! Hollow claws, put on over the natural ones,
like gauntlets. That would greatly enhance the ability of
a digging creature. Mystery solved.

But as Grundy returned to the bed, he realized that
the greater mystery remained. Where had those voles
gone, and why? It was evident that nothing had hurt them,
for there were no skeletons and there was no damage,
other than that done by Chester's hooves. They must have
gone of their own volition—their own vole-ition—to some
place of their choosing. Perhaps they were there today,
digging even better labyrinths.

But probably he would never know where or why. It
was a frustrating frustration.




Chapter 5. Stella Steamer

In the evening they proceeded to the tunnel and
entered it. The ghost horses, satisfied that all was well,
did not accompany them; they preferred to graze on the
surface. Again the dim illumination of the fungus helped
them, without bothering Snortimer unduly; it was almost
as if the voles had had Bed Monsters in mind. Or maybe
such fungus was part of the natural habitate of nocturnal
monsters. It was, at any rate, another fortunate coinci-
dence.

Grundy led the way, because Snortimer was most at

home in a dark passage like this and was very sure-handed
here. Chester and Bink had to be more careful, with their
big clumsy feet. Once again Grundy appreciated the Good
Magician's wisdom in specifying this particular steed.
Often Humfrey's prescriptions made a good deal more

sense than they seemed to at first.

The tunnel wound down and around, tantalizing them
with a seeming descent to the bottom, only to rise again.
Obviously the voles had not considered directness to be
a virtue! This was probably their scenic route, though all

there was to see was round walls.

Then an aperture appeared, into which a stray beam
of moonlight probed. Snortimer shrunk away; moonlight
wasn't deadly to him, but he distrusted it on principle.

74

75

Golem in the Gears

Chester paused to peer out—and whistled. Grundy dis-
mounted and went over to look, climbing up to the cen-
taur's shoulder in order to reach the elevation of the hole.

Now he saw it. Above, the pale moon squatted on an
unruly cloud. Below, the awesome precipice of the Chasm
opened. Grundy felt suddenly dizzy, as if falling into that
terrible Chasm. Chester's big hand caught him before he
fell. "You need all four feet on the ground before you lean
out that window," the centaur murmured.

True words! Grundy scrambled back down and away
from the hole; he had had more than enough of it!

Travel resumed. Progress seemed swift enough, but
was actually slower than it would have been on level
ground, because they were constantly stepping over stones
and clearing cobwebs from their way.

Somewhere around midnight they heard something,
and paused. It was a low whistling or moaning, coming
from somewhere ahead, in the tunnel. "Something's there!"
Grundy exclaimed, horrified.

"I'm sure it's all right," Bink said nonchalantly.
"How can you be so sure things will be all right, all
the time?" Grundy demanded.

But Bink only smiled and shrugged. Obviously he knew
something Grundy didn't, and that annoyed Grundy inor-
dinately.

They waited, for there really was not much else they
could do. The noises approached, and in due course a
dark shape loomed in the tunnel. Grundy shrank back,
and Chester drew his sword, but Bink remained uncon-
cerned.

It seemed to be an animal, smaller than the centaur,
but massive. It had front feet with enormous claws. It
moved along, and it was evident that there was not room

76 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 77

for it to pass them in the narrow tunnel. Yet it did not
pause; it just moved on at them.

"Just let the vole pass," Bink said. "It's harmless."

"A voleT' Grundy asked.

"The ghost of one," Bink said.

With that, the creature moved right through Chester,
through Bink, and brushed by Grundy with no impact. It
was indeed a ghost.

It proceeded on up the tunnel, going its mysterious
way, paying the living party no attention.

"I daresay the civilized voles could be nervous about
an apparition like that, just as we tend to be about human
ghosts," Bink remarked.

Chester resheathed his sword. His hand was shaking.
"I daresay they could," the centaur agreed, relaxing.

Grundy understood Chester's embarrassment per-
fectly. He had been on the verge of terrified, yet obviously
there had been no danger. Naturally voles had ghosts;

every species did. But for a moment it had certainly seemed
like a monster!

They resumed their trek down. Grundy pondered again
what he had learned about the civilized voles. It made
sense that their ghosts could not accompany them; most
ghosts were locked to the region of their deaths. But where
had the living voles gone, and why? There was still no
answer.

As dawn neared, they reached the bottom of the Chasm.
They simply set up the bed in the comfortable darkness
of the tunnel, then went out to forage for food. "But if
you hear the dragon coming," Chester warned Grundy,
"get over to us quickly, because you're the only one who
can talk with it."

Grundy smiled. That was true enough; without him,

there could be a most awkward misunderstanding! He felt
more important.

The bottom of the Gap Chasm was a fairly nice place,
at least in this region. There were small trees and bushes,
and fruits were abundant. The only thing that was missing
was animal life. That was because the Gap Dragoness ate
all of that.

For a long time people had considered the Gap Dragon
a terrible scourge, serving no useful purpose. Now it was
known that the combination of Gap and Dragon served,
historically, to protect Xanth from the worse scourges of
the Mundane Waves of invasion. That had become clear
when the so-called Nextwave (now the new Lastwave)
surged through; the Gap had become a major line of
defense. Grundy wondered how many other seemingly
evil things of Xanth actually had good purposes, when
understood. There was a lot more to Xanth than met the
casual eye.

They finished their meal and slept. Around noon the
ground shuddered, somewhat the way it had when the
invisible giant had stridden toward them but less so. This
was the familiar whomp! whomp! of the Gap Dragon.

Suddenly the whole party was alert. Grundy stood
before the tunnel exit, ready to meet the dragon first. This
was his moment of power.

She whomped into view: a long, low, six-legged dra-
goness, moving with surprising velocity. Steam belched
from her mouth and nostrils, adding to the splendor of
her approach. There was hardly a more impressive figure
than the Gap Dragon—or Dragoness—in full charge!

"Halt!" Grundy cried, holding his little hand aloft. "We
come in friendship!"

The dragoness whomped on, her gaze fixed on Chester.

"Hey!" Grundy said. "Slow down! I told you—"




78

Oolem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

79

She steamed right by him, her jaws opening. Chester,
no coward, had his sword in hand, ready to defend him-
self—but no ordinary centaur was a match for such a
dragon, and Chester was no longer in his prime.

Grundy realized that the dragoness was so intent on
her presumed prey that she hadn't heard him at all. Drag-
ons generally had limited intellects, and could truly con-
centrate on only one thing at a time. How could he get
through to her before disaster?

He saw a shadow in the sky. A roc was wheeling,
perhaps curious about the proceedings. Grundy had a
notion.

"Hey, brothers!" he squawked in roc-talk. "Let's go
down and haul on that dragon's tail!"

Stella Steamer skidded to a halt, blowing out a vast
cloud of steam. "You try it, and you'll get such a
chomp—!" she hissed in dragon-language. Then she
paused, for the rocs were nowhere close.

"It's me, Stella," Grundy cried. "Grundy Golem! We're
here on business!"

"I'm not Stella," she steamed. "I'm Stacey!"

Oops—he had forgotten. "Sorry. I misremembered."

"But I like Stella better," she decided.

"Anything you like," he agreed, as one does when
facing a dragon. Now at least he had her attention.

"You're not strays?" she growled.

"Not strays," he informed her firmly. "We came to see
you about Stanley."

"Stanley! You found him?" She had of course been
advised of the disappearance of the little dragon.

"No. I'm on a Quest to find him. Bink and Chester
helped me travel here. I must ride the Monster Under the
Bed to the Ivory Tower. But I don't know where the Ivory
Tower is. I was hoping you had heard something."

"Nothing," she said with deep regret, exhaling another
cloud of steam. "Of course I don't get much chance to
talk to most passing creatures before I eat them, and the
rocs won't give me the time of day."

"Of course not," Grundy agreed. "They've got stone
for brains."

"But even if Stanley wasn't lost, he'd still be too young,"
she growled, discouraged. She was patrolling the Gap
only temporarily; it was normally Stanley's job.

"Not necessarily," he said. "There's been a technolog-
ical breakthrough. Reverse-wood and Youth Elixir. He
can be any age, instantly."

"Any age!" she steamed, delighted. "We've got to find
him!"

"But if you have no notion, then—"

"Maybe the Monster of the Sea would know!" she
hissed eagerly. "He came from Mundania thousands of
<t   years ago, and knows an awful lot about the hiding places
of monsters of all types. If anyone would know where
the Ivory Tower is, he would!"

"I'll be glad to ask him. Where is he?"

"He skulks off the east coast, foraging up and down
the length of Xanth, looking for maidens to eat, or some-
thing." She licked her chops.

"The east coast!" Grundy exclaimed. "My friends have
to return home; we couldn't possibly get that far in the
time they have!"

"I will take you there!" she said, animated by the pros-
pect of finding and maturing Stanley.

"You don't understand, Stace—uh, Stella. I'm riding
Snortimer, the Monster Under the Bed, and the centaur
is carrying the bed."

She nodded. "Those Bed Monsters are sadly limited.
Still, I could tote that bed, if that's the only problem."




80                  Golem in the Gears

Grundy realized that this was another lucky break. He
could go on without the man and the centaur!

He switched to man-tongue and explained. "Good
enough," Bink agreed. "We were about to have to turn
back anyway. It's been a fine mini-adventure, but the

wives—"

"I'm never going to get married!" Grundy said. "Wives

are a terror."

Chester waggled a warning finger at him. "You won't

have a choice, if some golem damsel sets her cap for you."

Some golem damsel. That sobered Grundy. There was
no such creature; he was the only one of his kind.

"Chameleon should be very pretty by the time I get
back," Bink murmured, mostly to himself. Grundy real-
ized that there had been method in Bink's generosity; he
had been adventuring during the period when his wife was
least attractive, and would return when she was most
attractive. Even in old age. Chameleon in her pretty phase
was something special. Grundy would have settled for a

golem damsel of that nature.

It was agreed. Bink and Chester returned up the tunnel,
after tying the bed to Stella's back. At the moment of
parting, Bink turned seriously to Grundy. "Be careful,"
he cautioned, just as if he had paid any attention to that
before. Then the Gap Dragoness whomped forward, and
Grundy had to cling desperately to the bed to prevent
himself from flying off at each whomp. He hoped Snor-
timer wasn't getting motion sick. It was a long way across
Xanth, especially by whomp-travel, and they were only
partway along by nightfall. Grundy had managed to get
some sleep during the day, but now Stella needed to rest.
They discussed it, and decided that Grundy and Snortimer
would go on ahead, and Stella would catch up to them
the next day, hauling the bed. She was able to crawl out

Golem in the Gears                  81

of the harness so that she could hunt, and the truth was
that Grundy was happy to be elsewhere while she was
hunting.

Snortimer started out somewhat wobbly, but got
unkinked after a while and moved along well enough.
They made good progress along the valley of the Gap,
keeping mostly to the shadows where the moonbeams
couldn't reach. But after a while a cloud blotted out the
moon. That suited Snortimer just fine, but Grundy was
annoyed. "Who do you think you are, cutting off my
light?" he demanded in human tongue. It was rhetorical;

only King Dor could talk to the inanimate and have it

answer.

The cloud only intensified, sealing off the last vestige
of light, so that Grundy could not see at all. He was all
right, as Snortimer remained perfectly sure-handed in the
dark, but still it bothered him. "You fog-faced puff of dirty
mist!" he railed at the cloud. "If you were a living creature
I'd prick your mangy balloon!"

There was a rumble of thunder. Oh, no—it was fixing
to rain! "What noise is this?" Grundy demanded. "You
think you're pretty big stuff, sounding off, don't you!
Well, you're nothing but hot air!"

There was a louder peal of thunder. Could the cloud
hear him, or understand him? Grundy remembered some-
thing Ivy had said about a mean little cloud called Cumulo
Fracto Nimbus who thought it was a king. Maybe this
was that one. If so, he knew how to insult it—and he
was in just the mood to do it.

"You bag of wind," he yelled. "You call yourself a king?
You stink to high heaven!"

Now there was no doubt the cloud heard him. There
was a gust of wind and a roll of thunder that traversed
the Chasm.




82 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 83

Grundy was beginning to enjoy this. He realized that
he would get wet, but he could handle that. There wasn't
much else the cloud could do, because it couldn't see him
in the dark, and he was constantly moving. "You sound
like a stink-hom!" he yelled. "Smell like it, too!"

A bolt of lightning struck the ground where he had
been. Oh, that cloud was angry! Obviously it could under-
stand the human language, and it had a bad-weather tem-
per. Ivy had described it perfectly: a grandiose stormcloud
with delusions of grandeur.

But now dawn was approaching. That meant they would
have to stop and camp for the day—and be a sitting target
for the lightning. Grundy hadn't thought that far ahead.
What was he to do now? And, to his horror, Grundy
realized he had made another oversight: traveling without
Snortimer's bed. Now the Bed Monster had no bed to
hide under, as the dangerous light came. If the storm
didn't get them, the daylight would.

They would simply have to find a place dark enough
to protect Snortimer until the dragoness caught up with
the bed. "Look for a cave!" Grundy directed his steed in
monster-tongue.

Fortunately the Gap was riddled with crevices and
caves. Snortimer swerved to the side and up the sheer
cliff, surprising him; Grundy hadn't realized how well the
monster could climb. Some distance up the side there was
an opening, and they crawled in. Inside there was a fairly
comfortable cave chamber, quite suitable for their pur-
pose. It had enough curvature to guarantee that no beam
of light could strike Snortimer as long as he remained
away from the entrance.

Grundy, however, didn't need to stay back. He dis-
mounted and stood at the front. "Nyah, nyah, you fla-


tulent cloud!" he yelled. "Your lightning bolts are too dull
to stick in the ground!"

Furious, the cloud hurled a bolt at him. But it missed;

the broad surface of the cliff provided nothing for a bolt
to fix on. The bolt bounced off the stone above, and
clattered to the base, where it lay dented and harmless,
slowly dulling from white-hot to red-hot. In time it would
become cold iron gray, and eventually rust away. A spent
bolt was a sad thing.

"You call yourself a storm?" Grundy yelled. "I call you
Cumulo-Fracto-Numbskull!"

Oh, the cloud was mad! Lightning flashed across it,
revealing a puffy cloud-face surmounted by a foggy crown.
This was Fracto, all right!

"I can see you're a real dunderhead!" Grundy called,
taking off on the "thunderhead" he knew the cloud pre-
ferred to be called. "I'll bet even / can make water better
than you can!"

That did it. Fracto set about making water. Rain poured
down, splattering across the cliff. Some splashed in, but
promptly seeped out again; this cave was not only secure
from light, it was safe from flooding too.

Meanwhile, day was arriving; even the full fury of the
storm could not blank out all the light of the sun. "You'll
dry up any minute, mist-for-brains!" Grundy shouted.

The rain poured down with double intensity. Water
sheeted along the cliff and crashed in a torrent into the
ground below. Puddles developed and expanded. It was,
Grundy had to admit to himself, an impressive effort.

But of course that wasn't what he told Fracto. "If that's
the best you can do, Cumulo-Fatso, you'd better retire
to some greener pasture and sprinkle their flowers. A baby
could dribble better than you can!"

It wasn't possible for the storm to get any angrier, but




84                 Gotem in the Geore

it succeeded anyway. A deluge came down while Gmndy
continued to hurl up insults. He hadn't had a name-calling
workout like this in years!

The puddles expanded to ponds, and to little lakes.
Still the water poured down. The liquid had no ready
egress (Grundy smiled as that word came to him, thinking
of birds and pewter) from the Gap, so it piled up. The
bottom was becoming a single expanse of water, like an
inlet from the sea. "Is that the best you can do, you
cumbersome fractious nincompoop kinky clown of a
cloud?" he demanded.

The king-cloud was so enraged that jags of lightning
shot out of its posterior, illuminating the whole Chasm.
Thunder crashed continuously, wind whipped violently
about, and rain came down in bucketfuls. The water level
rose, creeping up toward Grundy's cave.

Now, belatedly, he realized what could happen. If the
rainfall continued unabated, it could flood the cave, forc-
ing Snortimer out into the light, wiping him out.

Then, faintly over the constant noise of the rain, he
heard splashing. He peered, and saw a distant cloud of
steam. Stella Steamer was caught in the water, and by
the look of it she couldn't swim. She was being carried
along by the flow of it, thrashing about, trying to keep
her head above the surface.

"Enough!" he cried. "I'll stop insulting you, Feculo!"

But now the cloud had the advantage, and had no inten-
tion of letting it go. The water descended without pause,
deepening the lake. Fracto didn't care if Stella drowned,
as long as he got Grundy too!

"Stella!" Grundy screamed in dragon-tongue. "Find
something to hang on to!"

But there was nothing to anchor her. Slowly she was
carried on past his cave, having increasing difficulty as

Golem in the Gears                  85

the water deepened. The bed was tied to her back, ham-
pering her. She was surely going to drown!

Grundy scrambled back inside the cave. "Snortimer,
the water's rising, the dragon's drowning, and we'll drown
too if we don't get out of here!" he exclaimed.

"I can take care of that," Snortimer said.

"You can? How?"

"I'll just pull the plug."

"The what?"

"Let's go!" Snortimer said. "But you'll have to shield
me from the light!"

Grundy jumped on, spreading his body as well as he
could to intercept what dim light there was, and the mon-
ster scrambled out of the cave. Snortimer winced as the
palest light surrounded him; then he dropped into the
water and sank below. Grundy held his breath and hung
on, not knowing what was happening.

Snortimer scrambled rapidly hand over hand down
under the water, moving along the bottom of what was
now a deep lake. In a moment he came to a large circular
plate set in the ground. He braced two arms against the
ground, grabbed the edge of the disk with two more, and
used another to steady himself. He hauled on the disk.

Slowly the disk came up. Then it was out of its hole,
and water was pouring through. Snortimer hauled it to
the side and let it go; it snagged in a crack and hung there,
letting the current go by.

Now the water was sucking rapidly through the hole
left by the disk. Snortimer clung to the ground, and Grundy
clung to Snortimer, and the water rushed by them with
increasing force. Grundy didn't know how long he could
hold his breath, but he had no choice. If he stopped hold-
ing it, he would drown.

Surprisingly swiftly, the water sucked down through

Golem in the Gears

the hole, and the lake in the Chasm drained. Soon there
was nothing remaining but puddles.

Already Snortimer was scrambling in the direction the
dragon had gone. "My bed!" he gasped.

His bed, of course! He had to get under cover before
the cloud cleared up!

They found Stella downstream, shaking herself. Snor-
timer dived under the bed that was still strapped to her
back. The bed was soaking, but it represented security
for the monster.

Just in time! Cumulo Fracto Nimbus, seeing the drop
in the level of water, was giving it up as a bad job. Grundy
was tempted to call, "Good riddance!" at the cloud, but
refrained; his mouth had caused enough trouble already.

Where had all the water gone, he wondered? There
had been so much of it—and now it was all belowground.
Was it rushing through endless caverns, down to some
sunless sea? Were there people down there, or monsters,
and if so, how were they handling all that water? Probably
it would not be smart to stay around long enough to find
out; they might not be entirely pleased by the abrupt
deluge.

Stella seemed all right; the water had drained in time,
and she was of a tough species. Grundy settled on top of
the squishy bed and relaxed as she whomped on.

Fracto, his rage spent, floated away, and the sun reap-
peared. Slowly the bed dried out. By nightfall it no longer
squished.

This night Grundy and Snortimer did not range far
ahead; they decided to wait until the dragoness was ready
to move in the morning. After all, there might not be
another plug, ahead.




Golem in the Gears                  89

Golem in the Gears

88

"Good luck," Stella growled. "I've got to go back on
patrol." She whomped back down the Chasm.

At night, Snortimer came out and foraged for the mak-   \
ings of a dummy. He gathered driftwood that was bent
into shapely configurations, and tied it together with vine.
He was really pretty handy—which wasn't surprising,
considering that he was mostly made of arms and hands.

Grundy, searching for food, suddenly felt his foot go
cold. It was as if he had stepped in deep snow—but there
was no snow. He checked, and discovered that he had
stepped on a burr. No wonder! Those things were impos-
sibly chilly.

They set up the dummy at the shore. Then Grundy
imitated its voice. "Oh, help!" he wailed in the most dis-
traught femalish tone. "I'm in horrible distress!"

Nothing happened. But of course it could take the mon-
ster time to arrive. Grundy repeated the call every hour
or so, hoping it would be heard.

Dawn came, and they retreated to the bed. The night
had been quiet, but the day was otherwise.

First, a little roc swooped down, evidently taking the
bed for a tidbit. Too late, Grundy realized that they should
have concealed it. The roc would simply lift it up and
carry it away, and he dreaded to think what would happen

to Snortimer.

Grundy dashed across the sand to the spot where he
had stepped on the burr. It was still there. He picked it
up, though it chilled his hand to the bone, and charged
back just as the roc arrived. The bird was just extending
its claws toward the bed as Grundy hurled the burr at its

head.

The roc, with an automatic reflex, snapped the bun-
out of the air and swallowed it. Then the bird froze, not
quite literally. It forgot the bed and pumped its wings,

flying up—but there was a rather strange expression on
its beak, and ice was forming on the outside of its craw.
It flew away somewhat erratically.

Grundy smiled. It was a young roc, still inexperienced.
A mature one would have known better than to eat the
burr. Next time, this one would know better. He had just
contributed to its growing pains, so to speak.

He settled down to rest, as there was nothing he could
do about the bed right now. At night he could get Snor-
timer to haul it across the sand to cover, for Grundy
himself lacked the strength. But he remained halfway alert.

In the late afternoon he was roused by a distant scrap-
ing or brushing sound. He jumped up and looked—and
was dismayed. A beachcomber was coming down the
beach. This was a giant comb with enormous teeth,
advancing across the sand, combing out all debris. Behind
it the sand was level and clean; the debris piled up in front
of it, to be moved to some dumping site. Obviously the
bed would be dumped along with the rest of the trash.

Desperately Grundy looked around. He remembered
seeing something that might—yes! There was a small
pumpkin growing at the fringe. He dashed across to it,
used a sharp shell-fragment to saw it free of its vine, and
shoved with all his might. The pumpkin weighed more
than he did, but the beach was slightly inclined, and he
was able to start it rolling just as the beachcomber arrived.

The comb caught the pumpkin and tumbled it around.
The pumpkin burst, getting its innards all over the comb's
teeth. That was exactly what Grundy had hoped for.

The teeth absorbed the juices of the pumpkin. Then
the magic of the pumpkin acted on them. They were
pumped up, swelling like balloons. In moments, the comb
ground to a halt, unable to push its own fat teeth through
the sand. The bed had been saved, again.




90

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

91

When evening came, they moved the bed to safety
under a mys-tree, where any intruder would have great
difficulty figuring things out. Grundy continued to imitate
the calls and pleas of the dummy-damsel, though he had
some private reservations about seeking the aid of a mon-
ster that preferred to feed on this sort of prey.

Next day, about noon, the Monster of the Sea arrived.
First a ripple developed in the water, then a wake; finally
a grotesque head poked up. The Monster had a flexible
pink snout, bulging nostrils, cauliflower ears and two
enormous ivory tusks. His eyes seemed beady, but as he
came closer Grundy realized that they were more like
bloodshot saucers; it was the size of the creature that
made them seem small.

Grundy glanced down and discovered that his knees
hadn't changed to jelly; they merely felt that way. Did he
really want to continue this mission? "That's the ugliest
puss I've ever seen!" he breathed.

The Monster honked. Grundy jumped; naturally he
understood the honk, and what it signified was this: "And
you're the least significant twerp I've ever seen!"

Those big, convoluted ears were good at hearing! "I'm
on a Quest," Grundy replied defensively in honky.

"Aren't we all!" the Monster agreed.

"You? What's your Quest?"

"I liberate damsels in distress." The Monster waded
through the shallow surf toward the dummy. He had huge
flippers and a serpentine tail, and he was even bigger than
he had seemed. Strings of seaweed were festooned across
his scales. He smelled of ill fish.

"Um, about that particular damsel—" Grundy began.

"Be with you in a moment, mini-pint," the Monster
honked as he heaved himself out of the water and hauled

his blubbery body somewhat awkwardly across the sand.
"First things first."

"But you see that's not really a—"

"I came to liberate her, and liberate her I shall!"

"She's a dummy. She—"

"Don't call any damsel a dummy!" the Monster chided
him, continuing forward.

"But this one is really a—" Grundy said.

The Monster halted abruptly, eyes on the dummy.
"That's no damsel!" he honked.

"It's a dummy, dummy!" Grundy exclaimed. "I've been
trying to tell you!"

"A mock-damsel!" the Monster honked, amazed. "Who
would do a thing like that?"

"Well, you see—"

"Here I swam half the length of Xanth at top velocity
to reach the poor damsel before she expired, and all for
nothing?"

"What good would it have done her, anyway?" Grundy
exclaimed. "She'd be as well off dying of exposure, as
being gobbled by you!"

"What?" the Monster honked, perplexed.

"Why euphemize? You may call it liberation, but it's
their lives and your hunger you are liberating!"

"My dear insignificant golem!" the Monster honked.
"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"It's true, isn't it? You consume only damsels in dis-
tress?"

"I consume only plankton," the Monster honked,
affronted. "Do you think there would be enough damsels
in all Xanth to feed me, if your heinous charge were true?"

Grundy contemplated the enormous bulk of the crea-
ture, and realized it was true. A thousand damsels would
not sustain that mountain of flesh. "Plankton?"




92                  Golem in the Gear*

"It's a magic food found only in the sea. Very tasty. I
strain it through my teeth."

"But those tusks—"

"Are for self-defense, of course. There are some pretty
bad creatures out there."

"Uh, I guess I was led astray by your reputation,"
Grundy said, embarrassed.

"You shouldn't credit hearsay," the Monster reproved
him. "Now why is this mock-damsel here?"

"I set it up," Grundy confessed. "It was the only way
to summon you."

"You perpetrated this indignity?" The saucer-eyes red-
dened alarmingly.

"I need your help! It isn't only damsels that get in
distress, you know."

The Monster considered. "I suppose that could be true,"
he said, relenting. On a scale of ten, his orbs declined
from a bloodshot factor of eight to six. "In what manner?"

"I need to get to the Ivory Tower."

"The Ivory Tower!" the beast honked, his eyes shoot-
ing up to nine. "I never go near that accursed device!"

"Oh? What do you have against it?"

"Look at these tusks!" the Monster honked, waving
them in the golem's direction alarmingly. "Of what do you
suppose they are made?"

"Uh—ivory?"

"Precisely. And that Tower—"

"I see your point. Someone wants your tusks for that
tower."

The orbs ameliorated. "Actually, no. The Tower has
been complete for centuries. But it was fashioned of the
ivory of many innocent monsters like me, and every time
I hear about it I think of the sacrifice of those poor crea-
tures to the greed of the Sea Hag."

Golem in the Gears                  93

"The Sea Hag?"

"She who crafted the Tower. A horrendous witch, the
scourge of the sea."

"I'm not sure I like this," Grundy said. "I have to ride
the Monster Under the Bed to the Ivory Tower, if I am
to rescue a banished dragon."

"A dragon-damsel in distress?" the Monster inquired,
intrigued.

"No, this is Stanley Steamer, a male dragon, formerly
of the Gap Chasm."

"Oh, thai dragon! I wondered why he had been replaced
by a female, recently. Still, if he's locked in the Ivory
Tower—"

"I'm not sure that's the case," Grundy confessed. "I
understand that Rapunzel is actually at the Tower, and
maybe she will know where Stanley is."

"There's a damsel in that Tower? She must be in dis-
tress!"

"Well, I don't know anything about her, except that
she corresponds with Ivy, the daughter of the human King."

"If she's in that Tower, she's captive to the Sea Hag,
and she's certainly in distress!"

Grundy realized that this could be a useful interpre-
tation. "That might be the case. Perhaps she needs res-
cuing."

"I hate the Ivory Tower, and I hate the Sea Hag," the
Monster honked passionately. "I shall have to rescue that
damsel!"

"Well, since I need to go there anyway—"

"Yes, yes, to be sure," the Monster agreed. "We must
be instantly on our way. There's no telling what horrors
the Sea Hag visits upon that damsel daily!"

"To be honest. Ivy didn't say anything about horrors,"
Grundy said. "Ivy sends boxes of junk to Rapunzel, and

94 Golem in the Gean Golem in the Gean 95

Rapunzel sends boxes of puns. I don't think it's an even
exchange, but I wouldn't exactly call it horror, either."

"Are they good puns or bad puns?"

"Is there such a thing as a good pun?"

"Of course not! They must be bad puns. If that's all
she has to send, she must be living in horror."

Grundy nodded. "I hadn't thought of it that way. You're
right, of course. We'll have to rescue her. But we can't
start till evening, because I have to bring Snortimer along,
and his bed."

"Impossible!" the Monster honked.

Grundy thought fast. "A night start would be better,
to fool the Sea Hag."

The Monster considered. His blubber paled. "We'll
wait."

Grundy had won his point. Somehow he did not feel
reassured. What was there about the Sea Hag that put
such a tremendous monster in fear, when she wasn't even
looking for ivory anymore?

Grundy wanted to return to the bed and continue his
daytime nap, but was afraid the Monster would change
his mind and depart without them if he gave him too much
leisure. So he decided to keep the Monster's mind occu-
pied. The best way to do that, he knew, was to get him
talking about himself.

"Where did you get the reputation for consuming dam-
sels in distress?" he asked.

"Now that's a long and sad story, replete with irony,"
the Monster honked, trundling down to the water.

That was exactly what Grundy wanted: a story that
would distract the creature for a significant period. "I'm
interested in learning the truth," Grundy said encourag-
ingly.

"Well, let me get settled comfortably, and I'll tell you."

The Monster completed his trundle to the water, exca-
vated sand with his flippers, formed a comfortable cavity,
and commenced his narration:

"It all started (the Monster narrated) back in Mundania
perhaps five thousand years ago, give or take a few
hundred. It seems there had been a number of storms in
the region of a land called Ethiopia (Mundanes have strange
place names) and the superstitious natives believed that,
if they sacrificed their King's daughter to the sea, the
storms would stop. That was nonsense, of course; any
self-respecting storm would simply take the damsel and
continue unabated. So they chained the beautiful virgin
named An-dro-meda to a rock by the sea and left her
there.

"Now it was sheer happenstance that I was in the area,
and heard about it from the local fish. They said that this
truly luscious morsel of mortal distaff pulchritude was
exposed near the shore, with no one to help her. That
bothered me; I don't have any particular brief for land
creatures, and less for those of the human persuasion;

but, though the males can be troublemakers, the females
can be rather innocent. They should have chained out a
man in armor, not a harmless damsel. There wasn't even
any storm in the area at the moment. So I went to look—
and do you know, she was indeed a luscious creature,
ripe and succulent and fully packed. The tide was rising,
and a peculiar Mundane fish called a shark (I warned you
about those names!) was circling, waiting for the water
to rise enough to enable it to swim to her and tear off
some of that tender flesh. Even if the fish didn't eat her,
the rising water would drown her, so she was obviously
doomed.

"Well, I decided to do something about it. I wasn't lim-
ited to the water the way the fish was, though I do prefer




96 Golem in the Gears

it; it offers a usual support, for one thing. So I hauled myself
out and approached her. Oh, she was a lovely creature! If
I had any taste for flesh, I would have slavered over her
attributes. She had more meat on her rib-cage than I had
seen in decades, and her hams were plush indeed!

"She saw me and ululated, I presume with pleasure, for
it was obvious that I had come to help her. I inserted a
tusk into a link of the chain that bounded her hind foot
and wedged it out of the stone. That freed her—but I
knew it would be useless to return her to the savage folk
who had chained her so cruelly here. I tried to tell her
that if she would just climb on my back, I would carry
her safely to some more equitable culture, but of course
I could not speak her language. So I tried to signify my
intent by gestures, and I think she was beginning to under-
stand.

"Then this idiot wearing winged slippers came flying by.
He had a sword in his right front appendage and a circular
shield on his left, and without waiting to ascertain any
part of the situation he dropped down and pricked me in
the snoot with his weapon. Now my snoot is very tender,
and he happened to strike a vein; blood welled out and
spread across my face, splattering into my eyes. Had I
realized his intent, I would never have permitted him to
approach; I could readily have knocked him out of the
air with a tusk. But I have ever been slow to appreciate
the malice of strangers, until too late.

"Temporarily blinded by blood, and still unwilling to
appreciate the magnitude of his calumny, I plunged into
deeper water to wash off my snoot. That was effective,
and the cut closed in a moment, for we monsters are of
hardy stock.

"But in that time, the light-footed man, whose name
was something stupid like "Per-see-us," made off with the

Golem in the Gears                  97

maiden. He just carried her away! I dread to think of her
fate at the hands (if that is the correct term) of that lech-
erous brute. But I could do nothing; they were already
airborne when I broke the surface again.

"I learned later that Per-see-us had vilely slandered me,
telling the damsel that I had come to consume her, and
that he had killed me. He was of course wrong on both
counts; I had come to rescue her, and the story of my
demise was greatly exaggerated. It was only a pinprick,
after all, and a treacherous and lucky one at that. But the
credulous humans thereafter chose to believe that / was
the villain of the episode. I, who had broken the chain
that bound her to the sea! I had a lower regard for the
human kind after that, you may be sure!

"Still, I perceived that there was a need to protect other
such maidens from similar atrocities, so I constantly
patrolled the shores, ready to rescue any that I spied.
This led to certain altercations with other idiots of the
Per-see-us stripe, as you may imagine. I remember one
of them, called Ja-son; he had some foolish notion of
locating the Golden Fleas that resided on a dragon. What
right he thought he had to such elegant fleas I'll never
know, but he got himself a boat called the Arrgh or some
such and came pestering me. Evidently he presumed I
was the dragon. Only the very stupidest of idiots could
fail to perceive the distinction between a dragon and a
sea monster, but he fitted the description. He stabbed at
me with his pinpricker. Annoyed, I simply gulped him
down whole.

"Now I am not a flesh eater, and this carrion had a foul
taste. Revolted, I soon regurgitated him, but the damage
was done: the foul taste remained in my mouth for weeks.
I understood the fool finally found the right dragon and
stole the fleas from it, carrying them on a motley yellow

98

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gear

99

sheepskin. There seems to be very little justice in Mun-
dania!

"Disgusted by episodes like these, I finally migrated to
Xanth. Unfortunately, the calumny ofPer-see-us pursued
me, and folk here, too, believed that I was looking for
damsels to harm rather than to help. But I refuse to be
dissuaded by ungratefulness; still I range the coast seeking
damsels who require aid. And that is my sad story, and
the reason for the misunderstanding that surrounds me."

The Monster fell silent, his tale done. Grundy wasn't
quite sure whether to believe him, but decided the more
expedient course was to accept the Monster's version of
historical events as factual. "I'm certainly glad to get the
story straight," he said.

"It's good to get my side of it spread about," the Mon-
ster honked. And, strangely, he no longer seemed as ugly
as he had. His appearance was the same, but Grundy just
didn't perceive it as unpleasant.

"This Sea Hag," he asked. "Just how bad is she?"

"Ah, the Sea Hag," the Monster sighed. "I really wish
she weren't involved in this! I don't like the notion of
tangling with her one bit!"

"But you're a Monster, the scourge of the sea!" Grundy
protested. "What have you to fear from her?"

"Let me tell you about her," the Monster said. "She
is a Sorceress, and no mortal creature can oppose magic
of that level except another of that level."

"A Sorceress? There are only three in all Xanth today,"
Grundy protested. "Iris, Irene, and Ivy. The Sorceresses
of Illusion, Growing, and Enhancement. There aren't any
more."

"There aren't any more living in Xanth," the Monster
honked. "But the Sea Hag is off Xanth, and she's not

exactly living. That may be why she has escaped your
notice."

"But the Good Magician knows everything!" Grundy
said. "He would have told us, if—"

"I have heard of your Good Magician," the Monster
honked. "Does he provide information for the asking?"

"Not exactly," Grundy admitted.

"And is he in full command of his faculties today? I
understand he is getting old."

"He's young, not old—or was when I saw him last."

"Young? How can that be?"

"He's been sneaking nips of Youth Elixir. He OD'd."

"Youth Elixir! Wouldn't the Hag be a terror if she got
hold of that!"

"No one but the Good Magician knows where the
Fountain of Youth is," Grundy explained. "And he's not
about to share his secret with anyone else."

"I hope not! It's just about the only thing that could
make the Hag more dangerous than she is."

"Just what is her talent?"

"Immortality."

"But you said she wasn't exactly alive!"

"Precisely. She occupies a body and lives till she tires
of it. Then she kills it and takes a new body, usually a
younger one. A fairer one. Of course it doesn't stay young
or beautiful after she's used it a few years; her Haggish
nature gradually transforms it to hideousness. That doesn't
bother her; she can always change it for another."

"But how—?"

"It's her talent. When her body dies, she is a ghost for
a few hours—I don't know how long she can remain dis-
corporate, but it isn't long—and then invests a new host,
which she controls until its death. She can do this as often
as she wishes, and she can invest any host."




100

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

101

"Any host?" Grundy asked, appalled.

"Any host that agrees to let her in," the Monster qual-
ified.

"But who would do that?"

"No one—in his right mind. But she has ways of cloud-
ing minds. That's why I'm afraid of her; she might trick
me into accepting her."

"Trick you? How could she do that?"

"You can never be sure what her form will be, because
she can take over any living creature who lets her. She's
had centuries to practice her nefarious wiles. She could
be a damsel in distress..."

Oh. And when the Monster of the Sea agreed to liberate
her, the agreement might constitute more than intended.
Grundy appreciated the danger. But he had another con-
cern. "Why would she keep someone locked up in the
Ivory Tower?"

"You haven't perceived that?" the Monster honked.

"Why would I ask, if I had?"

"The Hag has been in this vicinity—the eastern coast
ofXanth—for centuries. People are catching on. Mothers
warn daughters about her. I'm sure it's getting harder for
her to take over healthy human hosts. Animals, too, may
be alert, as I am. She can take over any creature, male
or female, though I believe she prefers female for long-
term use. That doesn't mean males are safe; it means
she'll use them only temporarily, killing them off when
she finds a better host. So it makes sense for her to cul-
tivate a perfect host—some young woman who can't get
away, and who doesn't even know what the Hag contem-
plates."

"But everyone in the area must know!" Grundy pro-
tested.

"Yes. Except a person raised in an isolated tower, who
never talks to anyone else."

"Rapunzel!" Grundy exclaimed, finally catching the
Monster's drift.

"That is why the Hag built the Ivory Tower," the Mon-
ster agreed. "To enable her to raise a girl, in each gen-
eration, who was completely innocent, yet healthy and
intelligent and beautiful. In the Ivory Tower there is no
chance to leam about the real world, yet that person can
be quite intellectual. The Hag has fine taste in women,
since she likes to have the most attractive and useful
bodies. Inevitably those bodies age and uglify under her
influence, but if they are outstandingly beautiful at the
outset, that process takes longer."

"Obviously Rapunzel knows something," Grundy said.
"That has to be the reason the Good Magician sent me
to the Ivory Tower. But if she's completely shut off from
the rest of Xanth, how could she know where the missing
dragon is?"

"She would know anything the Hag told her," the Mon-
ster pointed out. "And the Hag would need her to know
the general geography and cultures of Xanth, because
once the Hag takes over that body, the Hag is restricted
by the limitations of the host. Obviously she knows she's
the Hag, and remembers what she's done, but her physical
and mental abilities are defined by those of the host. That's
another reason to have a substantial period of training.
Just so long as the captive doesn't leam about the real
nature of the Hag herself. So probably Rapunzel knows
where just about everything is, so that the Hag can find
it when she has that host."

"Yes, that makes sense," Grundy agreed. "From Ivy's
description, Rapunzel is a nice person, and a pundit."




102 Golem in the Gears

"Who sends her puns," the Monster agreed. "But she
won't stay nice, once the Hag takes over."

"She is definitely a damsel in distress," Grundy con-
cluded. "And we've got to rescue her."

"Agreed," the Monster honked. "But this will be no
easy task. I believe others have tried to get into the Ivory
Tower in prior centuries and all have come to grief."

"I can imagine," Grundy said glumly.

"It is an interesting coincidence that your Good Magi-
cian should send you on this mission just at this time,
when the damsel surely needs rescuing."

"Not coincidence at all!" Grundy said. half angrily.
"The Good Magician must know about the Sea Hag after
all and has dispatched me to break up her foul mischief!"

"Undoubtedly the case," the Monster agreed.

Unfortunately, Grundy was not at all sure he was up
to the challenge. He was, after all, only the height of the
span of a human man's spread hand. He was definitely
no hero!

Now it was dusk. It was time to fetch the bed and
Snortimer, and start on their swim to the dread Ivory
Tower.

r

Chapter 7. Ivory Tower

They traveled south along the coast. The Mon-
ster was so big and steady in the water that he was like
a floating island; the bed simply perched on the bamacled
back without falling off, and Grundy and Snortimer
perched on the bed. The Monster couldn't talk to them
while swimming, because his snoot was mostly under-
water, but that was all right; Grundy had had his fill of
conversation for now.

Progress was slow, however; the Monster was no speed
freak. The voyage required several days. At dawn they
camped on an isolated promontory that the Monster
assured them was safe; there was an inlet that was almost
a cave, providing deep shade for the bed, which made
Snortimer more comfortable. The Monster swam out to
the deep ocean and fed on plankton, while Grundy found
some edible lichen in assorted candy flavors. Snortimer
had no trouble; he fed on the dust under the bed, as he
always had. He had evolved from dust, and to dust he
would return, when Ivy grew up and stopped believing
in him. That was the tragedy of all Bed Monsters.

As they wended farther south, the complexion of the
shore changed. The normal greens and browns of trees
faded, to be replaced by tan, and then yellow, and finally

103




104

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gear*

105

bright gold. "What's with the land?" Grundy asked when
the Monster paused.

"Didn't you know? This is the Gold Coast."

Oh. That didn't explain much, but Grundy didn't want
to admit his further ignorance, so he did not inquire again.

At length they hove into view of the dread Ivory Tower.
It was, Grundy discovered, a lighthouse. A yellow beam
of light swung around from its apex, brightening the heav-
ing surface of the sea and the projecting rocks of the coast.
This was a lonely region, forbidding and unpretty. Mun-
danes might find golden land beautiful, but golems had
better taste. Grundy would never have come here, had
he not been on Quest.

They paused at a distance. Grundy knew that the Mon-
ster dared not approach too close, lest the Sea Hag spy
him. The next phase of this adventure was up to Grundy
himself.

It was possible, the Monster had assured him, to reach
the base of the Tower from the land, by crossing the shoals
at low tide. There would not be much time, because the
moment the tide reversed, that section would fill in with
water, returning the tower to its island status. However,
since Snortimer could climb a sheer cliff face, Grundy
wasn't worried about that aspect. Of greater concern was
the whereabouts of the Sea Hag. Was she in the Tower
now, or elsewhere?

It was fairly high tide now. The Monster nudged in
close to the golden shore and landed them near a golden
grotto, lifting the bed into it with a flipper. It was an
awkward operation, but successful; now Snortimer was
secure under the bed in a deeply shadowed nook, just the
way he liked it. Still, he complained: "I miss Ivy's cute
little feet."

"The sooner we get this Quest done, the sooner she'll

be using this bed again," Grundy reminded him. "If you
don't find romance first."

"Um, to be sure," Snortimer muttered, as a splash of
water drenched the bed. He did not sound entirely sat-
isfied.

Grundy decided to wait and watch for a while. The
Monster believed that the Hag made regular trips to and
from the Tower, though he had never actually observed
this, being too nervous to remain long enough to watch.
In fact, the Monster was already gone, having swum to
deeper waters to feed. He would be back in due course,
to help rescue the damsel in distress—but Grundy real-
ized that it was up to the golem to work out the proper
strategy.

He was in luck. On the afternoon of the first day he
saw a rowboat coming around the Tower. Evidently the
Hag had it moored by the door at the base, and was now
heading to land for supplies. If she stayed away until low
tide, Grundy could cross to the Tower and enter, and
perhaps rescue Rapunzel, just like that. Probably the Hag
locked the door from the outside so that the girl couldn't
escape. If he could just find a way to unlock it—

He waited nervously as the day waned. The Hag did
not return. He assumed it was the Hag, though he had
not been able to get a clear view of the figure in the boat,
because it could be no one else. Certainly Rapunzel
wouldn't be going shopping! But if the Hag had someone
else to do her bidding—

No. It had to be her!

Meanwhile, the tide was going out. At dusk the bar
was beginning to show; within another hour they would
be able to cross. Still the boat did not return; maybe the
Hag planned to return in the morning. That would be so
convenient for Grundy that he hardly believed it.




106                 Golem in the Gears

As night became firmly established, he roused Snor-
timer. They had to leave the bed in the grotto; it was
under cover and high enough so that high tide would not
reach it. But of course they did not plan to remain long
at the Tower; this deed was best done quickly.

As the water receded farther, they made the crossing.
There were still inlets and puddles to hurdle, but Snor-
timer could handle them. Grundy judged that they would
have no more than an hour; longer, and the tide would
trap them.

It was a farther distance than it had seemed. The terrain
of the bar was not even; it was rough and craggy. Even
at ebb tide, the waves crashed against the rocks. To a
regular man this might not have been too bad, but each
wave was about nine times as high relative to Grundy.
He could be swamped in water that was only knee-deep
to a man. Once again he was reminded of his basic inad-
equacy as a hero; he simply lacked the stature!

It took twenty minutes to make it to the base of the
Tower. They scrambled around it—and were dismayed.

There was no door. The wall was a smooth cylinder
throughout. How had the Hag gotten out?

Grundy peered up into the sky. The Tower seemed
immensely tall from this vantage, poking up almost to the
restless night clouds. The only aperture seemed to be at
the top: a window not far below the rotating beam, facing

seaward.

"She must have a ladder," Grundy concluded glumly.
But then he remembered his steed's ability. "We'll just
have to climb up it." The prospect scared him, for it
looked to be a very long way up, but what alternative did

they have?

He held on tight, and Snortimer took hold of the wall.

Golem in the Gears                 107

The huge hairy hands scraped across the polished ivory—

and found no resistance.

The ivory was simply too slippery for Snortimer to

scale. The cliff of the Gap Chasm had been rough, with

a network of little cracks and crevices that assured a grip;

this wall had none. They could not get up that way.
"Oh, zombie-slush!" Grundy swore, frustrated.
There was a sound, far above, as of a window being

opened. "Is that you. Mother Sweetness?" a gentle voice

called.

Mother Sweetness? What nonsense was this?
"Why are you back early?" the voice called.
Grundy had to answer. "I—I am a visitor," he called.

"May I come up and see you?"

There was a dulcet gasp. "Oh, I dare not talk to

strangers!"

Naturally the Hag had warned this innocent young thing

against strangers! "But I have come a long way just to

talk with you!" Grundy called.

"No, Mother Sweetness is very firm about that. No

strangers!" There was the sound of a window being closed.
Grundy thought desperately. "I'm not exactly a

stranger!" he called. "I'm from Ivy!"

"Ivy!" The window reopened. "My pun-pal!"
"The same! I'm on a Quest for her, and I must talk

with you! It's very important!"

She hesitated. "Well, I suppose for a moment—"
"But I don't know how to get in," Grundy called. "I

can't find the door."

There was a tinkle of laughter. "Silly! There is no door!

Ivory Towers don't have accesses to the real world."
"But then how does anyone get in?"
"Just a moment while I let down my hair."




108 Golem in the Gears

"Rapunzel, this is no time to do your hair!" Grundy
cried.

Again her laughter tinkled down upon them. She seemed
to be a merry soul. "It's for you, of course. That's how
Mother Sweetness comes up."

Then a hank of fiber fell down to dangle just shy of
the ground, startling them. Grundy reached out to touch
it, and found it composed of fine silken fibers. It was her
hair!

He stared up. The tower seemed to be hundreds of
feet tall, and the hair dangled all the way down it. What
amazing tresses she possessed! But though he could climb
well enough for a few feet, he knew this was beyond him;

his arms would give out before he was more than a fraction
of the way up, and he would fall back to the rocky base.
If the Sea Hag could readily climb that distance, she had
to be one tough old creature!

Then Snortimer took hold. He, naturally, had no trou-
ble; he could climb anything, once he got a grip on it.
Grundy mounted, and up they swarmed, virtually running
up the side of the Tower. In a few minutes they were near
the top.

Belatedly, it occurred to Grundy that the sight of Snor-
timer might alarm the girl. After all, Snortimer was the
Monster Under the Bed, a figure of terror for most young
folk. "Close your eyes as we come in!" he called.

"Close my eyes?" she asked, perplexed. "But—"

How could he explain? But then he realized that they
had another problem. Her chamber was lighted; Snorti-
mer could not enter! "Or turn out the light," he said. "It—
it's blinding me."

"Oh." In a moment the light went out; evidently she
had the lamp within reach.

r

Golem in the Gears

109

Snortimer scrambled on up in the dark, and into the
window. The absence of light solved both problems neatly!

But once they were inside, Rapunzel wanted to light
the lamp again. "If I turn it low, your eyes will be able to
adjust," she said reasonably.

"Wait!" Grundy cried. "The truth is, I didn't come
alone. My friend—he can't face the light."

"Your friend?" she asked. "Who is he?"

"He is known as the—well, he lives under the bed."

"Nobody lives under my bed," she said.

"Under Ivy's bed," Grundy explained somewhat lamely.
"He—he's my steed. He can climb better than I can,
because he's got more hands."

"Ivy's bed?"

"She's a child, and all children have—things under
their beds."

"Oh, you must mean Snortimer!" Rapunzel exclaimed.
"Now I remember; she's mentioned him."

"But he can't come out into the light, and we couldn't
bring the bed up here, so—"

"He can borrow my bed," she said warmly. "I've always
wanted a Monster Under the Bed!"

"I don't know—" Grundy said. "I think he can only
live under Ivy's bed."

"Nonsense. I'm her pun-pal. That makes my bed just
as good." She moved about in the darkness. "Where are
you, Snortimer? Let me show you my bed."

"I don't think—" Snortimer said to Grundy in Monster-
tongue.

"Now I'll be most unhappy if you don't try my bed,"
Rapunzel said, beginning to sound unhappy. "I've never
had a Monster Under my Bed, even to visit; Mother
Sweetness never would allow it. Whatever will I do, if
you refuse?"

110                 Qolem in the Gears

"Better at least try it. Snort," Grundy mumbled, feeling
awkward. This was the last kind of discussion he had
anticipated. But when Rapunzel sounded happy, she
sounded very very happy, and when she sounded unhappy,

it was awful.

Grudgingly, Snortimer moved across the dark chamber

to where she indicated her bed was. A surprised snort
followed. "I can use it!" Snortimer exclaimed. "It's com-
fortable! Grade-A dust!"

"In that case, perhaps we can light the lamp," Grundy

said. "He's safe, under the bed."

In a moment, the light came on; evidently she had a

magic match. At first it was indeed blinding; then he

adapted.

Beautiful was hardly the word to describe Rapunzel;

it was inadequate. She was as lovely a creature as he had
encountered. She seemed to be about twenty years old,
with eyes that shifted colors in the angles of the shadows,
and hair like endless silk, ranging in shade from almost
black at her head to bleached white at the end of the
tresses. She wore an old-fashioned Mundanian skirt and
bodice, with velvet slippers. A series of stout combs buck-
led her tresses in place; she was busy hauling them in and
fastening them down, hank by hank. Grundy wondered
that the weight of it didn't drag her head down to the
floor. But her hair seemed to compact as it curled against
her head, so that no matter how much of it she piled on,
it remained of only ordinary volume. Obviously her magic
talent was her hair; it was both infinite and finite.
"Oh—I thought you'd be larger," she said.
"I guess I forgot to tell you," Grundy said. "I'm a

golem."

"A golem?"
"I was fashioned of wood and rag and string," he

Golem in the Gears                 111

explained. "Several decades ago. Later I managed to
become alive, but my size didn't change."

"That's all right," she said. "I like you the way you
are."

"You do?" This, too, caught him by surprise.

"Of course. There are advantages to being the right
size." And abruptly she was his size.

Grundy stared. Where a full-sized human girl had been,
there now stood one slightly smaller than he was. She
was identical in every respect, and every bit as lovely,
only smaller. "How—?" he asked, dazed.

"I'm of mixed elfin/human stock," she explained. "It
all started four centuries ago, when my great-to-the-nth-
degree grandmother Bluebell Elf met this handsome human
barbarian warrior and used adaptation magic on him, for
a tryst. Ever since, their descendants have been able to
shift from her size to his, and in between, and beyond.
So I can be anywhere from your size, which is smaller
than an elf, to giant size, which is larger than human,
though that's about the limit. Some of my ancestors have
married elves, and some human folk, depending on their
tastes, but the magic has carried through. Size really
doesn't make much difference to me, but I've tended to
stick to human size because that's the way Mother Sweet-
ness is. Also, my hair might not reach all the way down,
if I were too small, though I'm not sure about that; it does
keep growing, and I haven't tried it in that size recently."

"Bluebell Elf," Grundy repeated, remembering some-
thing. "I know a human man from about that time, named
Jordan. He says he—"

"Yes, he's the one!" she exclaimed, clapping her little
hands enthusiastically. "I always wondered what became
of him, after he left the Elven tree. Because my first
female ancestor was elven, she never knew more about




112

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

113

the man, because he was the roving kind, as barbarians

are."

"That I can tell you," Grundy said, pleased. He liked

this woman very well. "But there is something more seri-
ous I need to tell you first. I'm afraid it will be very

difficult for you to accept."

"Oh, I don't think so!" she said cheerily. She came to
sit by him on the floor, as the furniture was too large for
either of them, now. Her proximity had an electric effect
on him, for not only was she the loveliest creature of his
size he had encountered, she was treating him exactly like
a person. "It's so delightful to have company—I've never
had a visitor before, you know—and even a Monster
Under my Bed, even if it's only a borrowed one. It does
get lonely, being alone all the time, when Mother Sweet-
ness isn't here. Of course I do correspond, and exchange
things with Ivy, though I don't have anything very good
to send her compared to the wonderful things she sends

me—"

"The wonderful—?"
She jumped up, even prettier in her lithe activity than

she had been when sitting. "See, I have them here on a
table. Here, I'll have to change to reach it." She shifted
to human size, reached down her hand, and picked Grundy
up, setting him gently on the table. Her fingers were soft
and fine and smelled faintly of bubblebath. "Now hold
my hand," she said, extending one finger.

Grundy took hold of the finger—even the nail was
smooth and sweetly shaped—and suddenly she was small
again, and with him, holding hands. "I can't do it by
myself," she exclaimed. "I have to stand where I change,
if you see what I mean. I can get down by jumping and
changing in midair, but it's hard to get up without breaking
the table." She smiled brilliantly. "But with another per-

son, then I can be with that person—and so here I am,
on the table, with you."

Indeed she was, and Grundy was mightily impressed.
He had never been with a creature like this before, and
he liked it very well. His whole limited life seemed to
assume more significance, just because of her presence.

They faced a substantial collection of oddments: bits
of string, pebbles, sand, flower petals, fragments of pot-
tery, a paperclip, a Mundane penny, a fragment of colored
glass, and so on. These were the ordinary things that Ivy
had sent in exchange for all the beautiful puns Rapunzel
had sent. Yet the woman seemed to be quite pleased with
them.

"I'm not sure that what you send her is inferior to what
you have here," he said cautiously.

"But these are things of the real world!" she exclaimed
happily. "All I have to send are used puns, and they're
very cheap. See, there's some piled up in the comer."
She gestured, and Grundy saw assorted knick-knacks
there. One was a green bottle, another a branch of a tree,
and another was a ball formed of fingers and hands.

"What are they?" he asked.

"Oh, one's a club soda; I haven't sent her that because
I don't want her to get clubbed. That branch is an ever-
green; it turns anything it touches green—you can see
how the floor has become green there. And a handball,
and tail-lights—"

"I understand," Grundy said, seeing the lighted tails.

"Pun-things hardly relate to the real world," Rapunzel
continued. "But these artifacts Ivy sends—each a little
bit of her reality—how I wish I could go there! I want so
much to join the real world."

"I would like to take you there," Grundy said, hardly
believing that it could be so easy.




114                Golem in the Geon

"Oh, I can't go," she said, frowning, and it was as
though a cloud passed over the lamp, dimming the room.

"I have to mind the lamp."

"The lamp," he asked, looking at it as the fog about it

dissipated.

"This is a lighthouse. The beam has to keep swinging

around and around, so that the Monster of the Sea doesn't

crash against the rocks in the dark."

Oh, the big lamp! "But the Monster of the Sea doesn't
come here!" Grundy exclaimed. "He's afraid of the Sea

Hag."

"The what?"

"The Sea Hag. She—"

"What is this word 'hag'?"

Was she teasing him? "That's what I have to tell you,
that you may not like. Maybe you'd better sit down for

this."

"Very well," she agreed readily enough. "Hold my

hand."

He held her hand, no great chore, and they walked to

the edge of the table. Then she jumped off—and changed
to human size in midair. She landed solidly, but Grundy
was still clasping one of her fingers. Then she lifted him
down, and across to the couch, where she reversed the
process. Now the two of them were sitting on the couch,

quite comfortable.

Grundy remained somewhat awed by the facility with

which she shifted size without sacrificing any of her
daintyness, but he forced himself to focus on the subject.
"It's about the one you call 'Mother Sweetness,'" he said.
"She—may not be quite what you believe."

"But I've known her all my life!" Rapunzel exclaimed.
"How did you come to be here in the Ivory Tower?"

Golem in the Gear*                 115

he asked, hoping to find a way to say what needed to be
said without alienating her.

"Well, I don't remember it myself, but from what I
have been told, my parents were in trouble, and Mother
Sweetness arranged to help them, and so they gave their
next child to her to raise, and that was me. And I really
have no right to complain, for Mother Sweetness has been
very good to me, but sometimes—"

There wasn't going to be any easy way. "Outside, she
is known as the Sea Hag," he said. "She takes young
women and—and uses their bodies."

"I don't understand," Rapunzel said, her brow furrow-
ing prettily.

"She—takes over their bodies. Makes them hers. I
don't know what happens to the—the original owners.
So instead of being an old hag, suddenly she's young and
beautiful. Then she arranges for a new body, for when
she gets old again and needs it. That way, she's immor-
tal—only not with her own body."

Rapunzel stiffened. "I can't believe that!"
"I was afraid you wouldn't," Grundy said. "But if you
don't believe it, you may be doomed to a fate worse than
death."

"But Mother Sweetness has always treated me so well."
"And never let you leave the Ivory Tower."
"I explained about thaL-The light—the Monster—"
"And I explained that the Monster never comes this
way, except this time, to help rescue you. He knows the
Sea Hag of old."

She shook her head. "You seem like such a nice person!
How can you say such a mean thing about Mother Sweet-
ness?"

She refused to believe him. For that he could hardly
blame her—yet somehow he had to convince her. "Well,

116 Golem in the Gears

I understand that she can't take over a person's body
unless that person gives permission. So if you don't give
permission, then maybe you'll be safe, even if you don't
believe. You don't want your body taken over by another
person, do you?"

Rapunzel shuddered fetchingly. "No, of course not!
But I just can't believe that Mother Hag—I mean. Mother
Sweetness would ever do such a thing! She's taken such
good care of me!"

"Because the Sea Sweetness—I mean, the Sea Hag
wants to have the best possible body to use! She has
prepared you exactly for her purpose, telling you only
what she wants you to know, preventing you from ever
learning the truth. Does she know you've been corre-
sponding with Ivy?"

"Of course. I was afraid she would be vexed, but when
she learned that Ivy was only a child she decided that it
was all right. Children don't know very much. But I'm
not allowed any other pun-pals."

"Because she doesn't want you to leam anything about
the real world! Not until it's too late!"

Rapunzel shook her head. "I just can't believe—"

There was a voice from outside. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
let down your long hair!"

"Oh, she's back!" the girl exclaimed, her hand flying
to her mouth in alarm. "She mustn't find you here!"

Grundy felt the same. But he was trapped; he and
Snortimer couldn't escape, with the Hag waiting below.
What was he to do now?

Chapter 8. The Sea Hag

Kapunzel!" the Hag called more peremptorily
from below.

"Oh, I must let her in!" the girl said, jumping off the
couch and becoming human-sized.

"You mustn't!" Grundy said. "She and I are natural
enemies!"

"I don't know what to do!" Rapunzel exclaimed, dis-
traught.

"Whatever you do, don't let her in!" Grundy said. "She
is an evil creature."

"Rapunzel!" the Hag called again.

"I just can't believe what you say about Mother Sweet-
ness!" Rapunzel said, going to the window.

Grundy realized that the more he tried to condemn the
Hag, the more it damaged his own credibility in the dam-
sel's eyes. He would have to face the Hag directly. He
dreaded the prospect, but saw no alternative. "Then let
her in," he said with resignation.

Rapunzel was already taking the combs out of her hair
and letting it drop down outside the Tower. Then she
braced herself as the Hag took hold below.

Grundy saw how the slack went out of her hair and
how it jerked as it was hauled on. But this did not seem
to discomfit the girl as it might have; her head moved

117




118                 Golem in the Gears

only marginally as the hair took the weight of the climber.
He realized that this was part of its magic: not only did
it add no particular volume or weight to her head, it nul-
lified the weight of what touched it, as far as Rapunzel
was concerned. She really seemed to be a creature of two
magic talents—but he knew that the magic of heredity
didn't count as a talent, so her size-changes weren't a
talent. The rules of magic could seem devious at times,
but they were reasonably consistent.

What was he going to say to the dread Sea Hag? He
was horrified by the prospect of this confrontation. She
doesn't have any other magic! he reminded himself des-
perately. All she can do is kill herself and take over the
body of whoever lets her. I don't need to be afraid of
that! But he was afraid. He wished he could have avoided
this scene. If only he had left before the Hag returned!

All too soon the Hag reached the window and scram-
bled in. She was indeed an ugly creature. She wore a
black cloak and black cap with a dangerous-looking hat-
pin, and black high-heeled boots and black gloves; even
had she been beautiful, her aspect would have seemed
sinister. Her facial features were not physically deformed;

in a picture they might have seemed ordinary, considering
her evident age. But evil animated them, causing her mouth
to be lined with cruelty, her nose to project snoopiness,
her ears to be attuned to slanderous sounds, and her eyes
to focus on all that was ugliest in the situation. Grundy
hated her instantly and thoroughly—but he was also sickly

afraid of her.

"Mother Sweetness!" Rapunzel exclaimed, embracing
the Hag. That appalled Grundy, but he dared not protest.

The old woman glared about, her nose sniffing. "I smell
intruder!" she snapped. Then her mean old eyes fastened
on Grundy.

Golem in the Gears                 119

"I—I have a visitor—" Rapunzel explained faintly.

"That's no visitor—that's a wretched golem!" the Hag
hissed.

"You aren't any great beauty yourself, picklesnoot,"
Grundy retorted automatically, before he realized what
he was going to do. His terror of the Hag reduced him to
his most fundamental nature: the smart mouth.

"I'll get rid of it!" the Hag exclaimed. She strode to a
closet and fetched out a broom.

"Whatcha going to do with that, witch—ride it?"
Grundy demanded.

"I'm going to sweep you right out of this Tower!" she
exclaimed, coming at him with the broom.

"Oh!" Rapunzel exclaimed, appalled by this violence.

Suddenly Grundy realized that this could be a way to
convince the damsel of the truth about the Hag. Let the
evil witch show her nature! "You couldn't sweep the dust
out of your ears, old snoop!" he taunted her, dodging
nimbly to the side as the deadly broom swept across.

"Stand still, you runt, and I'll flatten you!" the Hag
grunted, smashing the broom down at him.

But Grundy had had decades of experience dodging
just such attacks, and readily avoided the blow. However,
he paced himself so as to be just a little way clear, so that
the Hag would not know how clumsy her attack was.

This had an unanticipated effect. It fooled Rapunzel
too, and she screamed as the broom landed. "Ooo, you'll
squish him!" she cried, horrified.

Grundy was quick to take advantage of the situation.
He scrambled to the damsel and hauled himself up her
skirt and to her pretty shoulder. "Don't let her squish
me!" he pleaded in her fair ear.

The Hag, enraged, raised the broom like a club and




120

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

121

charged forward—only to discover where Grundy had
gone. She paused, broom threatening.

"What are you doing. Mother Sweetness?" Rapunzel
cried, distraught. "I've never seen you like this!"

The Hag lowered the broom and composed herself, not
wishing to disillusion the damsel. After all, if Rapunzel
ever got the notion that the Hag was evil, she would not
cooperate by yielding her body for the Hag's use.

This, Grundy realized, was the true confrontation: the
question of whether Hag or golem was telling the truth.
If he could win that, he would be able to rescue the dam-
sel; if he could not, then all was lost.

The Hag forced a smile to her malevolent face. "I am
only trying to rid this chamber of this rodent," she
explained.

"Ask her why she keeps you prisoner here," Grundy
suggested.

"But you are not a prisoner, my dear!" the Hag pro-
tested before Rapunzel could speak. "This is your home."

"Ask her why you never get to go out," Grundy
prompted.

"But someone must remain to supervise the lighthouse
lamp," the Hag said. "It operates independently, but
sometimes it glitches, and then it must be promptly
attended to. You know that, my dear. Now just let me
remove this vermin—" She extended her gloved hand.

"Ask her why she doesn't tend the lamp while you go
out," Grundy said quickly.

"But you don't know the outside world," the Hag said.

"Yes I do. Mother Sweetness," Rapunzel said. "You
have taught me all about Xanth, haven't you?"

This made the Hag pause. She had of course taught
the damsel only what she felt it was safe for the damsel
to know and that would also be useful after she took over

the body herself. Naturally a lot had been omitted, but it
would be awkward to admit that.

"Has she told you about the way the Monster of the
Sea never uses the lighthouse beam?" Grundy asked the
damsel.

"But the Monster does use it," the Hag protested as
innocently as she could pretend.

"How odd that the Monster told me the opposite,"
Grundy remarked.

"Rapunzel, are you going to believe this little liar?"
the Hag demanded.

Now Rapunzel hesitated. She really did not know whom
to believe. "I—"

Grundy saw that straight dialogue was not going to do
it. He would have to force the Hag's hand more directly—
and that would be risky. "Maybe I'm wrong," he said to
the Hag. "If I stop insulting you, will you let me alone?"

The sinister calculations passed almost visibly across
the evil face. The Hag didn't know how much he might
have told the damsel before the Hag's return, or how
much of that the damsel believed. Certainly she didn't
want him staying around to utter more truths to the dam-
sel. She would try to eliminate him at the earliest oppor-
tunity. "Why of course, you little—creature," the Hag
said with a semblance of sincerity.

So far, so good. "Then I'll just cross over to the bed
and rest myself," Grundy said. He climbed down Rapun-
zel, who was a bit startled by the procedure, and scooted
across the floor to the bed. He hiked himself up the leg
of it. "Stay alert," he muttered to Snortimer as he passed.

He reached the top, and made himself comfortable.
"How about something to eat, old crone?" he inquired
politely.

The Hag stiffened. As he had suspected, she had not




122                Golem in the Gear

taught Rapunzel the meaning of terms like "crone." The
damsel probably thought it was a respectful address, and
the Hag dared not signify otherwise.

Then the Hag smiled, though it was as if she had to
use hooks to stretch her grim mouth into the configura-
tion. "Of course, Golem. I'll be right back." She trundled

out to the kitchen.

"Mother Sweetness always speaks the truth to you?"
Grundy asked in the moment that granted him. He knew
the Hag was listening, and would zip right back if he tried
to disillusion the damsel.

"Always," Rapunzel agreed.

"So if you ever found her deceiving you in one

thing—"

"Here is your food," the Hag said, back already. She

carried a chunk of hardbread almost as big as Grundy

himself.

"That's great, old trot," he said with a smile. "Set it

down right there." He gestured to the foot of the bed.
But the Hag was bringing it right to him. "I know this

will do you good," she said between her clenched teeth.
"On your mark. Snort," he murmured, low-level.
Suddenly the Hag dropped the roll and grabbed Grundy.

"Ha, I've got you, you little chunk of garbage!" she

exclaimed.

"What are you going to do with me, grotesque Hag?"

Grundy demanded loudly.

"I'm going to wring, your stupid tiny sniveling neck,

Golem!" she said.

"But you promised to leave me alone, snotface!"
"And you were fool enough to believe me, you bit of

rag and bone!" she exclaimed with satisfaction.

"But that means you broke your word, prunebottom!"

he said as if shocked.

Golem in the Gear*

123

"Oh!" Rapunzel cried with maidenly dismay.

The Hag glanced back at her. "Oh, shucks!" she mut-
tered. "Well, I'll get her straightened around after I'm rid
of you. She always listens to my side, when there's noth-
ing else." And she took hold ofGrundy's head and started
to twist.

"Now, Snort!" he screamed.

A huge hairy hand reached out from under the bed and
grasped the Hag's thin ankle. It squeezed and yanked.

The Hag let out a truly grotesque shriek and dropped
Grundy. Simultaneously there was a snort of deep disgust:

Snortimer's, because of the poor quality of the ankle he
had had to grab.

Grundy was ready for this. Instead of falling, he clung
to the witch's hand, scrambled to her arm, and up to her
shoulder. There in her cap was the huge metal hatpin he
had spied before. While she flailed with her arms, trying
to catch her balance, he took hold of the round knob at
the base of the pin and hauled the length of steel out of
the hat. In a moment he had a fine sword.

The Hag finally managed to wrench her foot away from
Snortimer's grasp. Grundy jumped down to the bed, hold-
ing his weapon. He bounced several times, as if on a
Mundane trampoline, but kept his balance.

"What's a Monster doing under this bed?" the Hag
screeched.

Grundy scrambled off the bed and dashed across to
Rapunzel. "Are you satisfied now?" he called to her. "You
saw her break her word!"

"There must be some misunderstanding," Rapunzel
breathed, distraught. "She couldn't have meant to—"

"Hey, old bag!" Grundy called to the Hag. "What are
you going to do with me when you catch me again?"

"I'm going to bite your troublesome little wooden head




Golem in the Gears                 125

124                 Golem in the Gears

off, and spit it into the sea, Golem!" she called back.
"Right after I hack this Bed Monster to pieces and cook

it in the pot!"

"No misunderstanding, as you can see," Grundy said.

"She's an evil old woman, who has deceived you all along.
She cares nothing for you, only for your body—when

she's ready to take it for herself."

"No, no!" Rapunzel cried, completely shocked. "That

can't be true!"

"Hey, old dog, how old are you?" Grundy called to

the Hag. "Is it true you were born yesterday?"

"I'm thousands of years old!" the Hag cried, stalking

him again with the broom.

"That's impossible!" Grundy exclaimed. "You don't

look a day over a century!"

"This body is only sixty years old," the Hag said,
swinging the broom. "I took it forty years ago from the

last girl I raised in this Tower."

"Just as you are going to take Rapunzel's body," Grundy
said sneeringly as he dodged the swipe. "Of course nobody

believes such nonsense."

"Nonsense?" she screeched. "I'm a Sorceress, you

contraption of rag!"

"You mean to say you never cared for Rapunzel at all,

old frump?"

The Hag, intent on stalking him, had grown heedless

of the damsel's presence. "Of course not, Golem! No
more than I cared for any of the fifty maidens I used
before. They're all mere fodder for my longevity."

Grundy saw Rapunzel lean against the wall as if about
to faint. She had had enough. "Snortimer!" he cried in
Monster-tongue. "When I douse the light, you go tie the
damsel's hair to the chair, get her out the window, and
help her climb down. I'll distract the Sea Hag."

Snortimer snorted agreement from under the bed. Then
Grundy lunged at the lamp with his weapon, running it
through. The glass chimney shattered; the flame shot high,
then puffed out. They were in darkness.

"Think that will save you, Golem?" the Hag cried,
bashing at the spot with the broom.

"No, but maybe this will," he cried. He strode forward
and plunged the hatpin where he judged one of her big
feet was.

He scored. The pin stabbed into bony flesh. The Hag
let out an ear-splitting screech and jumped back. She
wasn't seriously damaged, for the leather of her boot pro-
tected her foot, but now she was twice as angry as before.

There was an exclamation from Rapunzel. "Go with
Snortimer!" Grundy cried to her. "Make yourself small,
get on his back; he'll take you safely down!"

"But you—" she faltered.

Grundy lunged at the Hag's ankle, catching it a grazing
blow. "I will follow, once you are safe!" He jumped back
as the broom came at him again, telling its position more
by sound than sight.

"You little piece of excrement," the Hag cried. "When
I get through with you, you won't be more than a spot
on the wall!" And the broom smashed down with such
force that the wind almost blew him off his feet.

"You can't even catch me, you big piece of excre-
ment!" Grundy responded.

"Just let me make another light!" the Hag said. She
fumbled her way to the kitchen, where there was evidently
another lamp.

"Going down," Snortimer called in Monster-tongue.

"On your way!" Grundy replied. "I don't know how
much longer I can distract her."

The Hag came back, carrying a new lamp. Light flooded




126 Golem in the Gear*

the chamber. "Where's the damsel?" she screeched,
abruptly realizing what had happened.

"She's gone, old fang," Grundy informed her. "She has
escaped your clutches at last."

The Hag dashed to the window. "She's descending her
own hair!" she cried. "I'll cut it off!" She drew an immense
carving knife she had evidently brought from the kitchen.

Oops! Grundy hadn't counted on this! One slash with
that knife, and Rapunzel and Snortimer would both plunge
to the rocks below.

He charged forward—but now the Hag could see him.
She pointed the terrible blade at him. "Come within range,
Golem, and I'll skewer you right through your big mouth!"

Grundy hesitated. Her threat was no bluff; she could
and would do exactly that. He would not be able to do
anyone much good if she wiped him out. Strangely, he
felt no fear, now, just a wary frustration; how could he
distract the Hag long enough to allow Rapunzel and Snor-
timer to reach the foot of the Tower?

The Hag reached behind her and caught the hank of
hair that went out the window. It was securely knotted
to the chair, and the chair was too big to fit through the
window, so the anchorage was good. But now the Hag
slowly brought the knife to the taut hair. "One cut, and
poof!" she cackled, grinning.

Grundy thought fast. If he charged in, she would skewer
him, then cut the hair. His hatpin was no match for her
knife. If he threw the hatpin at her, it might distract her
a moment, but couldn't really hurt her, and then he would
be without any weapon. If he insulted her again, she would
merely get even by cutting the hair. He had to find some
other way.

He found it: logic. "If you cut that hair, Rapunzel will
fall to her death—and you won't have a nice young body

Golem in the Gears

127

to take over. You'll be stuck up here with no way to get
down and no body left to take but mine."

"Yuck!" she exclaimed. She looked at the knife, then
withdrew it. "You're only half-right, Golem, but that's
enough. I'm not limited to whatever's close at hand; when
I become a ghost, I can travel any distance to seek a new
host. But it is true that I don't enjoy pot luck; I'd much
rather have the body I have so carefully prepared, young
and beautiful and packed with exactly the information I
have chosen. So I won't kill her." She grimaced. "But
you I have no use for. You I can dispatch now."

She lunged for him, her blade sweeping through the
place where he stood. But Grundy, alert for exactly this
treachery, jumped straight up, came down after her hand
passed, and stabbed a mighty stab of the hatpin into the
back of her hand.

"Yowch!" she screeched, wrenching her hand away.
The pin was caught in it; Grundy had to let go lest he be
carried along. But he made good use of this new moment
of distraction. He ran to the lamp and shoved at its base,
trying to push it over. In darkness he would be relatively
safe.

"Oh no you don't!" she exclaimed, recovering herself
enough to snatch up the lamp. It had been too heavy for
him to budge quickly enough; that ploy had failed.

Grundy scrambled for the window. He grabbed the hair
and started to let himself down outside.

The hair was now slack below him; Snort and Rapunzel
had reached the bottom! But now the Hag's head poked
out the window. "I don't want her to die, but I'm happy
to have you die, Golem!" she exclaimed, putting the knife
to the hair again.

She had him this time! Grundy could neither let go nor
stop her; his life was in her hands. But perhaps his wit

128 Golem in the Gear*

could save him. "If you cut it, you'll still be trapped up
there," he said. "You can kill yourself and seek another
body—but right now Rapunzel won't accept you, so you'll
be stuck with whatever else is handy, and then you'll have
to die again to get to Rapunzel. You'll have to get her up
here again, without her hair to climb on. That's an awful
lot of trouble to get one silly golem."

"Confound it!" she swore. "I hadn't thought of that! I
don't like to die any more times than I have to. It hurts,
for one thing, and I'm disoriented for a while after I move
into a new host. The girl would be apt to get away."

"Too bad, old wrinkle!" he agreed.

For a moment he thought he had overdone it, for her
knife slashed at the hair. But then she stopped. "You'll
not trick me that way, Golem! I will preserve my descent.
But maybe I can still get rid of you!" And she took hold
of the hair and started to shake it.

Grundy's grip on the hair was already tiring, for he
was not used to sustained hanging. Now he was banged
against the ivory wall. He was in worse trouble than ever;

even if she stopped moving the hair, it would not be long
before he fell on his own. It was a long way down!

But at least he had saved Rapunzel! If he had to die,
this was the way to do it. He had at least done somebody
some good.

"Get away, monster!" the Hag cried angrily. Grundy
wondered at that, as his hands lost power; he was hardly
a monster!

Then his grip slipped. His little hands tore free of the
hair, and he fell into the night.

Chapter 9. Escape

A big, hairy hand caught him and hauled him
in. Grundy tried to fight, thinking it was the Hag—then
realized it was Snortimer. "You caught me!" he exclaimed,
dazed.

"Well, I was coming up to get you anyway," the Bed
Monster replied gruffly in Monster-tongue.

Grundy shut up. He was weak with relief. He had
thought he was going to die, but was glad he had not.
After all, he had not yet completed his Quest! It would
have been very embarrassing.

Snortimer carried him down to the base, where Rapun-
zel waited in the pale moonlight. Apparently this emer-
gency had caused the Bed Monster to become less shy
of that light. Rapunzel was human-sized, and sitting in
the Hag's rowboat, for the tide had come in and flooded
the island. Grundy wondered whether she had remained
that size while Snortimer carried her down the wall; she
must have been very heavy. But if she had turned small,
then what about her hair? That had remained full-sized.
Well, it wasn't worth worrying about; they were all safely
down, and they had the boat.

But Rapunzel's hair was tied to the chair at the top of
the Ivory Tower; she could not travel from this spot!
Unless—

129

130                 Golem in the Gear*

The damsel drew out a pair of scissors. "Oh, I really
hate to do this!" she exclaimed. "But—"

But what choice was there? They had to get moving
before the dawn!

She handed the scissors to Snortimer. "You do it," she
told the monster.

Snortimer took the scissors in one big hairy hand, and
grabbed her hair with the other. Holding it firmly clear of
her head, he hacked away with the scissors. In a moment
Rapunzel's head of hair was short and wild, while the
remainder of her tresses swung from the Tower. It was

done.

Tentatively, she touched her head. "How do I look?"

"Awful!" Grundy said without thinking.

Rapunzel burst into tears. "My lovely hair!" she cried
in anguish.

Snortimer, mortified, scuttled under the seat.

Grundy hated to see such a lovely creature in distress.
Her hair was nightmarish, but Rapunzel herself remained
beautiful. He had to reassure her.

"I meant—" he started.

"I know what you meant!" she wailed.

"But you were so brave to cut it off!" he said.

She brightened slightly. "Was I really?"

"So you think you've gotten away, do you?" the Hag
called from above. "Well you haven't! I'm coming down."

"We've got to get away!" Grundy exclaimed. "Rapun-
zel, you're big enough to use the oars—"

"Don't you dare!" the Hag called. "You just sit right
there, girl, until I come for you."

Rapunzel sat frozen.

"We have to move!" Grundy cried. "Take the oars and

row!"

Golem in the Gears                 131

"I can't," Rapunzel said tearfully. "Mother Sweetness
told me not to."

"But she's not your friend!" Grundy reminded her.
"She only wants to use your body!"

"I know. But still, I can't directly oppose her. She's
all I have known."

Grundy realized that he was up against a truly nice
person. Rapunzel, even though she now knew the facts,
simply could not bring herself to act in a contrary manner.
She couldn't betray the person she had known all her life.

Meanwhile, the Hag was climbing out the window.
Obviously she intended to climb down the hair, land in
the boat, toss Grundy and Snortimer overboard, and carry
the damsel back up to the chamber atop the Ivory Tower.
With Rapunzel captive again, the Hag would have all the
time she needed to persuade her that it was all a bad
dream, and in the end she would have the body.

He had to do something! But what? It simply was not
possible for him to man the big oars himself.

"Snortimer, can you—?"

But then the moonlight intensified, and the little mon-
ster scrambled farther under the seat. He was no help—
not while the light was too strong.

Grundy looked about. Above the heaving sea a mean
little cloud hovered. That was the one that had moved
out of the way, allowing the moonlight to shine down on
them unimpeded.

Was that coincidence? That cloud had a familiar look.
Could it be Cumulo Practo Nimbus? This was just the
kind of thing that cloud would do, when it saw its oppor-
tunity!

But maybe Grundy could turn that malice to his advan-
tage! He knew that Fracto had a bad temper and a lot of
hot air. If he could make the cloud blow its cool—

132

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gear*

133

"Hey, Fracto!" he called. "What are you doing so far
from home? You'd better get back to land, where it's

safe!"

The cloud huffed visibly. That was Fracto, all right!

Meanwhile, the Hag was starting down the hair. This

was going to be close.

"Fracto, you're nothing but a windbag!" Grundy cried.
"You used up all your power back in the Gap! You couldn't
work up a decent storm now to save your foggy skin!"

The cloud puffed up ominously. An experimental bit
of lightning flashed, and there was a rumble of thunder.

"Don't pull your fakery with me, foggybottom!" Grundy
cried. "I know you're just a cottonpuff! All you can do
is huff and puff and rattle around! You don't have enough
power to blow at that Ivory Tower, even!"

The cloud huffed and puffed and blew at the Tower.

"Hey!" the Hag cried. "Watch what you're doing, you
soggy mass of nothing!"

Affronted, Fracto blew harder. The Hag swung about
on the hair, banging into the Tower. She was only a quarter
of the way down, and couldn't move well while the wind

was blowing.

"Leave my ugly friend alone!" Grundy yelled with sud-
den inspiration.

Naturally Fracto now concentrated on the Hag. The
cloud moved nearer the Tower and began spitting rain at

it.

"Get away from here, you vacuous piece of mist!" the

Hag screamed, furious.

"Yeah, cauliflower-nimbus!" Grundy put in. "Do what

she says!"

The cloud was really worked up, now. It had swelled

to triple its prior size, and fairly glowed with contained
lightning. It oriented more carefully on the Tower.

The Hag, perceiving this development, hastily scram-
bled back up the hair toward the safety of the chamber.
She didn't want to get caught halfway down when that
storm let loose.

Fracto, seeing her trying to escape, hastily sleeted on
her. Tiny pellets of ice bounced off the Tower, but they
weren't enough to make the hair slippery.

"See?" Grundy called nastily. "Your real name must
be Cucumber-Fraction-Nimble!"

A jag of lightning fired out of the cloud to strike the
Tower. But the Tower was impervious to influences from
outside; it stood unaffected. The Hag clambered back into
the chamber, then turned to lean out and shake her fist
at the cloud. "I'll occupy a roc and flap you into oblivion!"
she screeched.

The cloud had not only driven back the Hag, it had
blotted out most of the moonlight. "Come on, Snortimer!"
Grundy said.

Rapunzel clapped her hands. "That was very clever of
you, Grundy!" she exclaimed.

Good—she had recovered from her stasis. Now if he
could just get her safely away from the Tower before the
Hag realized—

Snortimer grabbed the oars and began to row. But the
boat was moored to the base of the Tower. "Untie it!"
Grundy cried, for the knot was too massive for him to
handle.

He had been speaking to Snortimer, but it was the
damsel who did it. That was interesting—she answered
to the voice of authority, wherever it might be.

They nudged out to sea. But now the storm was striking
in earnest. Hailstones plopped into the water all around
them. "Get under cover!" Grundy yelled, afraid the dam-
sel would be struck.




134

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

135

Rapunzel changed to golem-size and ran under the seat.
Snortimer shipped the oars and joined her. Grundy went
there too, as the hailstones began scoring on the boat.
The waves were getting so rough that it would have been

useless to row anyway.

In fact, they were too rough. The boat rocked up and
down, proceeding from apex to trough in horrendous fash-
ion, and water began slopping inside. "Oh, we'll drown!"

Rapunzel cried.

Grundy knew he had brought it upon them. He had
used the storm to stop the Hag, but now it threatened to
stop them too. "Maybe I can summon the Monster of the
Sea," he said. "He's out here somewhere, and if we drift
far enough from the Tower, he can pick us up." He climbed
to the top of the seat.

"Oh, be careful!" the damsel cried.

"Got to be done," Grundy said grimly. He worked his

way to the side.

"You're so brave!" Rapunzel said.
"Brave? I'm terrified!" he said. And he was. But he

saw no other course.

He braced himself, stood up as tall as he could, and
yelled: "Monster of the Sea! Monster of the Sea! Can you
hear me?" There was no answer. He called again, and
again, but either the noise of the storm was too great, or
the Monster was too far away to hear, or both.

A larger wave washed over, knocking him down. One
of Snortimer's hairy hands reached out and caught him
before he tumbled to the bottom of the boat or, worse,
overboard. He was getting to like hairy hands!

"What were you doing?" Rapunzel asked, frightened.
"I thought you were going to call the Monster."

"I was calling the Monster!" Grundy snapped as he
shook some of the water off his body.

"But you were honking! Were you blowing your nose?"
"That's Monster-talk."

"You mean you can talk their language?" she asked,
amazed.

"Certainly. I'm the Golem of Communication. I can
talk to any living thing."

"Oh, that's impressive!" she said. She was not being
sarcastic, for there was not a sarcastic bone in her lovely
body; she was really impressed.

Another wave smashed across the boat. "But he didn't
answer," Grundy said gruffly. "And if we don't make
contact with him soon—"

"Maybe if—" she began, hesitantly.
"Yes?" It was better to keep talking, so that the hope-
lessness of their situation would not be too apparent.
"If you can talk to anything—" Again she hesitated.
"I can, but—"
"Maybe if you asked a fish—"
Grundy knocked his head gently against the side of the
boat. Of course! He could send a fish as a messenger to
the Monster! "Good idea, Rapunzel!" he exclaimed, giv-
ing her a quick squeeze.

He scrambled back up to the seat and the edge, heed-
less of the waves, and yelled at the water: "Hey! Any
good fish about?"

There was no answer. He realized that the fish, being
underwater, couldn't hear him; he had to get into their
medium. "Hey, Snort! Tie a line to my foot so I can dangle
in the water!"

"No!" Rapunzel exclaimed, putting her fingers to her
mouth in that maidenly way she had.

"Got to be done," Grundy said. "I have to talk to the
fish in their medium."

Snortimer was good at handling cords and ropes,




Golem in the Gears                 137

136                 Golem in the Gears

because of his several strong hands. In moments he had
Grundy secured by the feet. "Pull me out after a moment,
so I don't drown," Grundy told him, and jumped over-
board.

The water caught him the moment he entered, hauling

him back. He scraped along the outside of the boat before
the slack was taken up. Then he called to the fish in fish-
tongue: "Hey, you poor fish! My name is Grundy. I need

a messenger!"

Now a fish swam up. It was a big bass. "My name is

Tard; I need a meal," it said, and opened its big mouth

wide.

Grundy scrambled to get away, but could not; the line

held him fast. He kicked at the fish's nose. Then Snor-
timer hauled on the cord, and Grundy was drawn up and

out of the water, escaping.

"Did you talk to one?" Rapunzel asked anxiously.
"Not exactly," Grundy spluttered. "I was almost eaten

by a big bass, Tard."

"I've heard they'll eat anything," the damsel said dis-
approvingly.

"Got to try again," Grundy said, and jumped back into

the water.

"I need a messenger!" he called, alert for the bass.

A chunk offish floated by. In a moment an aggressive,
masculine fish arrived. "Did you see the rest of the cod

I was eating?" it inquired.

Grundy decided not to aggravate this one. "The cod

piece went that way," he said, pointing.

"Thanks, pal," the fish said, swimming after it. "I

wouldn't want to lose that meat!"

Then Snortimer hauled him up again. "Not yet," Grundy

reported.

On his third descent he spied a flying fish just getting

ready to take off. "Hey, take a message to the Monster
of the Sea," he called to it. "Tell him where we are!"

"Wilico, Roger," the fish replied, and accelerated out
of the water.

"I think we've got it," Grundy gasped as Snortimer
hauled him up again. "I told a flying fish; they're very
fast."

They retreated under the seat to ride out the storm
until the Monster came. A fair amount of water was now
sloshing around in the bottom of the boat, making things
uncomfortable, but they were hopeful that they would
soon be rescued.

Then a monstrous green tentacle flung itself over the
boat. Rapunzel screamed. "What's that?"

"That's the tentacle of a kraken weed," Grundy said
with horror. Then, to the kraken: "What are you doing
here?"

"A flying fish told me there was food here," the mon-
ster replied in kraken-talk.

Grundy's hope sank out of sight. "The fish told the
wrong monster!" he cried.

Another tentacle came over the boat, holding it fast.
A third one came, snaking down under the seat, looking
for prey. Rapunzel screamed again. Damsels were very
good at screaming in emergencies, even those raised in
Ivory Towers.

Snortimer grabbed the tentacle in a big hairy hand and
squeezed it. "Ouch!" the kraken cried, and threw in three
more tentacles. Snortimer grabbed two more of them, but
more came in, too many for him to overcome. Slowly
they dragged him from under the seat. Rapunzel's scream-
ing was continuous.

Then the kraken grunted and let go. Its tentacles twisted
and thrashed about. In a moment it was gone.




Oolem in the Geon

138

"What happened?" the damsel asked, uncertain whether
it was all right to cease screaming.

Grundy looked out. A huge shape loomed beside the
boat. "Our Monster's arrived!" he exclaimed, relieved.

"When I saw the weed going somewhere so fast, I was
suspicious," the Monster said. "I thought a damsel might

be in distress."

"You were right!" Grundy exclaimed. Then he trans-
lated for Rapunzel.

"Oh, I'm so happy to be rescued!" she exclaimed. She
changed to human size, leaned over, and patted the Mon-
ster's nearest flipper. The Monster blushed pink with plea-
sure.

Now the storm was abating. Light returned—but not

moonlight. "Dawn!" Grundy cried, appalled. "And we

don't have the bed!"

"Just tell me where to go," the Monster said, picking
the boat up by a flipper and setting it on his back. "There
are a few minutes yet before the sun comes up."

"Back to the golden grotto!" Grundy cried. The Mon-
ster moved out, churning up a violent wave. It was the

fastest he had ever moved.

Fracto, in the sky, spied them. The cloud darkened,
then reconsidered, catching on to their problem. It started
to lighten, to let more of the light of day past. The sky
lightened, and Snortimer whimpered and wedged as far

under the seat as he could.

They zoomed up to the rocky golden shore. But here
the water was relatively shallow; the Monster could not
go all the way, since the tide remained low. Still the light
brightened, as the cloud malevolently dissolved its vapors.

Grundy realized that there was no time for finesse.
"Throw the boat!" Grundy cried. "We'll hang on!"

The Monster picked the boat up again with a flipper,

Goiem in the Gears

139

then heaved. The boat flew through the air, and splashed
violently in the shallow water just beneath the rock-
formation where the bed was hidden. It was an awful jolt,
but Grundy couldn't afford to worry about that.

"Climb out!" he told Snortimer. "The bed's close!"

But it was already too bright. Snortimer huddled under
the bench, petrified, unable to move out.

Rapunzel had gone to golem-size for the throw. "Get
as big as you can!" Grundy told her. "Stand in the water!"

She jumped into the water, becoming full human-sized.

"Now reach in and grab Snortimer," Grundy directed.
"He's not that big; just haul him out and toss him into
that cave!"

She did as directed. The Bed Monster, paralyzed by
the brightness around them, offered no resistance. In a
moment he landed in the cave.

"You're there!" Grundy cried at him. "Get under the
bed!"

But Snortimer was too far gone. He just lay there beside
the bed.

"Stuff him under there!" Grundy cried to Rapunzel.
"Quickly!"

She obeyed. The Monster was finally back where he
belonged. But was it in time?

Rapunzel lifted Grundy up to the cave and set him on
the bed. Then she held his hand and joined him there,
golem-size again. "Is he all right?" she asked worriedly.

Grundy spread his hands. "I don't know. He had bad
exposure. We'll just have to wait and see if he recovers."

"What's the situation?" the Monster of the Sea honked.

"He's under the bed—but hurt," Grundy reported. "We
don't know how bad it is."

"Is the damsel all right?"




140 Golem in the Gears

"She's all right," Grundy reassured him. "You liberated
her."

"Then I must be going," the Monster of the Sea honked.
"I can not long remain in this shallow water."

"Go, and welcome!" Grundy agreed. "You have done
all that could have been asked." He had discovered, some-
where in the course of this Quest, that things tended to
work better if he erred on the side of more credit for
others rather than less. Insults had their place, of course,
but so did compliments. It was an interesting discovery,
whose ramifications he had yet to explore properly. "Take
the boat with you, so the Hag can't use it; we've got her
confined to the Ivory Tower."

The Monster drew on the trailing rope on the boat, and
brought the craft to him. He set it on his back and pushed
out to sea. "Good fortune, hero and damsel!" he honked
in parting.

Grundy jumped. "What did he say?" Rapunzel asked,
but Grundy was too embarrassed to tell her. Hero? Him?
What a joke!

Chapter 10. Coming to Terms

Tired from the rigors of the night, they lay on
the bed and slept. There was plenty of room for both of
them, as Rapunzel remained golem-sized. She slept at one
end, and Grundy at the other.

At noon Grundy woke and got up. He peered under
the bed. Snortimer still lay without moving. Yet he was
not dead; Bed Monsters dissolved into dust when their
ends came. There was still hope.

Grundy went outside the cave to forage for something
to eat. He found a patch of sugar sand, and a puddle of
reasonably fresh water. Those would have to do.

Rapunzel was up when he returned. He explained about
the sand and water, apologetically. To his surprise, she
seemed pleased. "I've never eaten directly from the real
world," she said. "It will be a new experience."

Some experience! But he took her to the sand and
puddle, and she ate and drank and expressed satis-
faction.

"Is he going to get better?" she asked.

Grundy spread his hands. "I just don't know how bad
it is," he confessed. "I'm hoping that rest is all he needs."

They returned to the cave, but Snortimer was no better.
They sat on the bed and worried. "I promised to help him

141

142 Golem in the Gears

search for romance," Grundy said dispiritedly. "What have
I brought him?"

"Romance?" she asked, combing her hair with a little
silver comb she had with her. As she got her shorn hair
in better order, it looked nicer; she was still the prettiest
creature he had seen.

"He was lonely, under his bed. He wanted to find a
female of his kind before he—well, you know that Bed
Monsters usually don't survive after the children on their
beds grow up and stop believing."

"Yes, of course. I was brought up to be rational, so I
never had a real monster under my bed. I really missed
that. But—"

"Wait," Grundy said, realizing. "You're not a child
now. How is it that Snortimer was able to hide under your
bed?"

"It's not age that decides it," she explained. "It's atti-
tude. Most children think it's grown-up not to believe in
Bed Monsters, so when they grow up, they don't. But
since I didn't have a Bed Monster, I never had the expe-
rience of truly believing, and so never grew out of it. You
have to experience something fully, before you can leave
it behind. So I'm retarded in ways like that; I'm still ready
to accept a Bed Monster, and my bed showed it."

"If you're retarded, I hope you never grow up!" Grundy
exclaimed.

"I mean that I haven't had the experience of the real
world," she explained. "I know about it, but I haven't
experienced it. So I know a lot about Bed Monsters, but
Snortimer is the first I have actually encountered. I'm so
sorry he came all this way for nothing."

"For nothing?" Grundy asked blankly.

"He can't find romance. There is no female of his kind."

"What?" Grundy asked, appalled.

Gotem in the Gear*

143

"Bed Monsters don't breed the way other creatures
do. They don't reproduce. They form spontaneously from
the dust under a child's bed, and they dissolve back into
dust when the child stops being a child. Snortimer's the
only one I know of who has traveled away from his bed."

"Well, actually we brought the bed along. But—"

"But his whole hope is vain," she concluded. "I sup-
pose we'll have to tell him, if—"

"If he pulls through this crisis of light exposure," Grundy
said morosely. "If I had known about this, I would never
have—"

"Of course," she agreed quickly. "You are a nice per-
son."

Grundy laughed ironically. "I'm neither nice nor a per-
son. I'm a loud-mouthed golem."

"You certainly are a person!" she insisted. "And a
brave one too! The way you fought Mother Sweet-
ness—" But this brought her up short. "Oh, I wish I hadn't
thought of that!"

"She really wasn't what you thought," Grundy said
uncomfortably. "Naturally she didn't show her mean side
to you."

"I realize that, now. I see that there were inconsisten-
cies in the picture of Xanth she presented for me. If there
were no things I didn't know about, why wouldn't she
allow me to leave the Tower? Everything seemed to make
sense, from the Tower; now that I'm away from it, I can
see that reality isn't quite the same. Still, Mother Sweet-
ness was the only person I knew, and it really hurts me
to know that she—"

"I guess it's the same kind of shock for you that it will
be for Snortimer, when he learns that—"

"You're very perceptive, Grundy."

"No I'm not. I just happen to know what it's like."

144 Golem in the Gears

"What it's like?" she asked blankly.

"To have no female of your species."

"But golems can be made in any type!" she protested.

"But not living golems. When I was wood and rag, all
I wanted was to become real. But when I became real, I
discovered I was alone."

"I never thought of that! That's terrible, Grundy!"

"Anyway, that's not my Quest," he said uncomforta-
bly. "I'm searching for Ivy's little dragon friend, Stanley
Steamer. The Good Magician told me to ride the Bed
Monster to the Ivory Tower, and now I've done that, but
I still don't know where Stanley is."

"But I know that!" she cried, clapping her hands.
"There's a young six-legged dragon with the Fauns and
Nymphs."

"A steamer?" he asked, excited.

"Yes. He arrived there about three years ago, in a puff
of smoke."

"He's all right?"

"So I understand."

"Then why didn't he go home to Ivy?"

"The Fauns and Nymphs won't let him go." Then her
fair brow furrowed. "But that's strange, I realize now.
The Fauns and Nymphs are supposed to be innocent folk
who don't hurt any creature. How could they hold a dragon
captive?"

"There must be a side to them that the Hag didn't tell
you about," Grundy said grimly. "I know Stanley would
have returned to Ivy, if he possibly could have."

She shook her head. "It must be so. The Fauns and
Nymphs migrated south when the ogres migrated north;

now the ogres are up by the Ogre-fen-Ogre Pen, and the
Fauns and Nymphs are down below Lake Ogre-Chobee.

Golem In the Gears                 145

It's really not a great distance from here, as the roc flies.
I'm sure Stanley could have gone home, if permitted."

"Well, I'm going to rescue him and bring him home,"
Grundy said. "I have to, or Ivy will do something dis-
astrous. She's a little Sorceress, you know."

"Yes, she's to be Queen of Xanth one day. I suppose
when she grows up, she'll stop corresponding with me.
Adults don't believe in pun-pals any more than they do
in Bed Monsters." She dipped her gaze, sadly. "I wish I
could have met her."

"But you can meet her!" Grundy said. "You're free of
the Ivory Tower now!"

"Why, so I am!" she agreed, surprised. "But I'm not
sure I could travel all that way alone. The fact that I know
about the dragons and other creatures of Xanth doesn't
mean I could handle them if I encountered them; in fact
I'm sure I couldn't."

"You can travel with us," Grundy said. "We're going
there, just as soon as we rescue Stanley."

"Why, so you are," she agreed, smiling gladly. "But
I'm afraid I would only be in your way."

"I don't see why. Snortimer could carry both of us;

he's strong enough." Then he remembered the Bed Mon-
ster's state. "Only—"

She sighed. "Only he's ill," she finished. "I had for-
gotten. What will you do, Grundy, if he—?"

Grundy shrugged. "I'll just have to go on alone."-

"But then I could go with you!"

"On foot? I don't think you would like that."

She pondered. "Maybe you could talk to animals, and
get a ride for us."

He nodded. "Yes, I could do that. But I'd rather go
with Snortimer. He's been a good steed and a good friend,
and—"




146 Golem in the Gears

"Surely he will get better!" she said positively.

"Surely he will," Grundy agreed, but a big ugly doubt
was hovering about him.

"Only—" she began.

"Yes?"

"What about the bed?"

Grundy sighed. "You're right. We have to take that
along. But I should be able to get an animal to carry it."

Then Rapunzel screamed.

Grundy jumped up. "What? Where?"

"That!" she cried, pointing at the floor.

Grundy looked. His heart sank. "A nickelpede!" he
exclaimed.

"That's right—they infest these caves. They like the
gold, though they can't eat it. Some creatures are like
that. Where there's one, there's hundreds!"

"It's searching for meat," Grundy said.

"Can it reach us, up here on the bed?"

"In time. But it's not after us. It's after Snortimer."

She put her hand to her mouth. "Oh!" she cried with
new horror.

"We've got to stop it," he decided. "If it doesn't return
to its nest, the others won't know Snortimer's here." He
moved to the edge of the bed.

"But how can we stop it?" she asked, peering down.

"I'll need a weapon," he said. He looked wildly about.
"I wish I'd saved that hatpin!"

"I have a fairly large pin," she said. "Of course it's
small, now, because—"

"Change size and get it for me," he said urgently.

She changed to human size, reached into her dress,
and brought out a large pin. She handed this to Grundy,
then changed back to his size.

Golem in the Gears                 147

The pin made a good sword. Grundy held the shaft
between his teeth, and climbed down the leg of the bed.

The nickelpede was now approaching one of Snorti-
mer's limp hands. It was a roughly circular creature stand-
ing about knee-high to him, but it's two big claws reached
up menacingly. They seemed to be gold-plated; this was
one rich little monster.

Grundy stabbed at the thing with his pin. The point
was sharp, but it scraped off the metallic hide and did no
harm. The nickelpede clicked its claws and advanced,
forcing Grundy to jump back. Those pincers could gouge
disk-shaped chunks out of metal; they could surely do
worse to his flesh!

He circled around, seeking some vulnerable spot. Sup-
pose he skewered an eye? That would set the thing back!
There was only one problem: he couldn't find any eyes.
The thing had feelers or antennae, and when he stabbed
at them, they simply swayed aside.

How about the feet? The thing had six or eight little
pedal extremities, and they couldn't be too heavily
armored, or they would impede its walking. If he took
out several feet, that might ground it.

He watched for an opening, then stabbed at a foot. He
missed—but the nickelpede didn't; one of its claws
whipped around and caught his pin. CRUNCH! Grundy
was left holding half a pin.

Dismayed, he backed away. The nickelpede pursued,
aware of its advantage.

Grundy tripped over a ridge in the stone floor, and fell
on his back. The nickelpede clacked its mandibles and
scuttled toward him.

Something huge came down. The nickelpede disap-
peared.

Startled, Grundy rubbed his eyes and looked again.

148                 Golem in the Gears

The huge thing was Rapunzel, human-sized. She had
stepped on the nickelpede.

"Ooo, ick!" she exclaimed, stepping away.

The nickelpede was done for; she had squished it. But
in a moment she was back to golem-size, standing on the
bed, her face in her hands.

Grundy climbed back up. "You saved me!" he
exclaimed.

"I just couldn't let you get chomped!" She sobbed.
"Ooo, I never did anything like that before!"

"I'm glad you did! I messed up, the way I usually do,
and if you hadn't—"

"You were so brave! When I saw you fall—"

"I'm not brave!" he protested. "I was terrified!"

"Well, you looked brave!"

He wasn't used to this sort of compliment and didn't
know how to handle it, so he changed the subject. "There
are bound to be other nickelpedes coming. We need some
better way to hold them off. Do you know of anything
better than stomping?"

"If we could find a nickelodeon," she said uncertainly.

"A what?"

"They eat nickelpedes. There are supposed to be some
along the Gold Coast but I don't know exactly where."

"I'll go out and find one!" he said.

"But what if another nickelpede comes before you get
back?" she wailed.

"Stomp it!" he snapped, and scrambled down the leg
of the bed and across the floor of the cave.

She didn't answer. He didn't like being gruff with her,
but knew that if he didn't solve the problem of the nickel-
pedes soon, they would both suffer a lot more grief than
hurt feelings. The other nickelpedes of the region would

Golem in the Gears                 149

soon smell the blood of the first and converge, and when
they did, no amount of stomping would stop them.

Above the grotto, he approached the first plant he spied.
"Hey, leaftop—have you seen any nickelodeons here-
abouts?"

To his surprise, the plant responded: "Certainly. One
prowls this region all the time."

"Point in its direction!" he cried.

Soon he was on his way, tracing down the nickelodeon.
He could hardly believe his fortune. Before long he reached
its lair. The thing turned out to be a somewhat dumpy
box with a slot in the side. It didn't look like much, but
he had to trust Rapunzel's information. He hoped it was
alive, so that he could talk to it.

"Are you alive?" he "inquired cautiously in human
tongue.

The box shook itself. "What a note!" it rumbled.

That enabled him to identify its language. "Are you
hungry?" he asked the nickelodeon.

"I'm always hungry!" it responded. "But it's getting
harder to catch my meals."

"If you come with me, I've got a place where nickel-
pedes are coming in on their own. If you wait quietly—"

"On my way!" the odd creature agreed, rising on a
number of little legs and traveling along.

When they reached the grotto, they found Rapunzel
distraught. She had trodden on three more nickelpedes,
but remained terrified of them and appalled at herself.
"Oh, I wish I had never left the Ivory Tower!" she cried,
blowing her nose into a dainty hanky.

Already she was missing her captivity! How bad would
it be if the Sea Hag got her alone and started in with the
"Mother Sweetness" business?

"You crawl under the bed next to the Bed Monster and

150 Golem in the Gears

wait," Grundy told the nickelodeon. "Take only the ones
that actually come under the bed, so as not to alert the
others. Can you do that?"

"Trust me to know my business," the creature replied.
It wedged under the bed.

Grundy clambered back to the top of the bed. "Come
on up here," he called to Rapunzel. "Small-size."

In a moment she was with him, still sniffly. "It was
horrible!" she said. "I don't know which I hate worse:

those nickelpedes, or having to squish them!"

"We should be all right now," he said reassuringly. "I
found a nickelodeon."

"Oh, wonderful!" she exclaimed, brightening imme-
diately. If she reacted strongly to negatives, she reacted
just as strongly to positives. Grundy was not used to
associating with a person whose moods were this mer-
curial, but he found he rather liked it. Rapunzel had no
affectation; she was honest in her responses, as a child
was.

They waited and watched and soon spied another
nickelpede slinking in from a shadow. These creatures,
like Bed Monsters, could not stand much light, but of
course Grundy could not afford to move Snortimer into
the day, even if he had had the size and strength to do it.

The nickelpede moved under the bed. There was a kind
of click and slurp. Then there was a strange sound.

Grundy and Rapunzel exchanged a glance. "That's a
song!" she whispered.

Grundy peered over the edge of the bed. "Who's sing-
ing?" he asked in nickelodeon language.

"I am," the box replied. "I always sing when I eat."

Grundy shrugged, but didn't object. It took all kinds
to make Xanth.

"Actually, it's rather pretty music," Rapunzel said.

Golem in the Geare                151

"Just so long as it keeps every nickelpede away from
Snortimer," Grundy muttered.

They waited, and the music continued as more nick-
elpedes arrived. What was going on below was horrific,
but the music made it seem almost nice.

"Back on the boat," Rapunzel said after a while, "you
did something. May I ask you why?"

"I was only trying to get us safely to land," he said.

"Oh, certainly, and an excellent job you did, too. But
this was something else."

Grundy shrugged. "Tell me what I did, and I'll tell you
why."

"You—you squeezed me."

"I did?" he asked, surprised.

"When I suggested you use a fish as a messenger. Why
did you do that?"

Now he remembered. "I—in the distraction of the
moment, I acted without thinking. I apologize for—"

"But I liked it," she said.

Grundy reconsidered. "It was such a good suggestion,
I just—well, it was just my quick way of saying thank
you."

"Why didn't you just say Thank you'?"

Grundy shrugged, embarrassed. "I should have, I guess.
It just—it just seemed to be a better way, at the time."

"Mother Sweetness never squeezed me," she said.

"Of course not. She didn't really like you."

"Oh." She considered for a bit. Then: "Do you really
like me, Grundy?"

"I think you're beautiful," he said.

"I don't think you answered my question."

"I don't know how to answer it," he admitted.

"Why?"

"Well, you're a beautiful woman, and I'm a golem."

152 Golem in the Gear* Golem in the Gears 153

"Does that mean you don't like me?"

"It means," he said with difficulty, "that I can't afford
to."

"I don't understand."

He knew she was not being difficult. She had had no
experience with the folk of the real world beyond the
Ivory Tower. She knew of them and about them, but not
how they interacted. She didn't realize how demeaning
it was to be a golem.

This would require some delicacy, and that was a thing
he wasn't used to. He had always simply told off people,
insulting them, making them react. He knew he couldn't
do that with Rapunzel; it would be like treading a delicate
flower underfoot.

"Suppose Snortimer met a female Bed Monster he
really—could like," he said. "Then he realized that there
are no females of his species, and that she was something
else. That she only looked like his type of monster. Could
he afford to—to like her?"

"Why not?" she asked, still perplexed.

"They would be of different species," he repeated.

"But isn't it all right for creatures of different species
to like each other? Don't you like Snortimer?"

"Yes, of course I do! But—"

She began to cloud up. "But you don't like me?"

"That's not the same! Snortimer and I are not—"

"Not what?"

"Not male and female." Was there no gentle way out
of this?

"I'm female," she said. "Does that mean I can't like
Snortimer?"

"No," he said, pained. "That's not it. Of course you
can like him."

"Then is it all right if I like you?"

"Oh, certainly! But—"

"But you can't like me?"

He just wasn't getting through! He would have to be
blunt, though it would shock her and perhaps alienate her.
"You—right now you look just like a beautiful female
golem, and if you were that, you would be the girl of my
dreams, and I would want to—to have a relationship with
you that—that might lead to—" He stalled out; it was
impossible to be blunt with her.

But at last she caught on. "To mating with me!" she
exclaimed.

Ouch! "I didn't mean—"

She looked disappointed. "You didn't?"

"Not—precisely," he said unhappily. "But it's aca-
demic, because you're not a golem girl, and—"

"But anybody can mate with anybody, in Xanth!" she
said excitedly. "That's how all the crossbreeds came about.
My ancestors were human and elven."

"Which means you have a future with either human or
elven kind," he said. "Not with golem kind."

"Why not?"

He laughed bitterly. "Why would anyone who had the
glorious worlds of human and elven kinds available ever
settle for a golem?"

"Why wouldn't anyone?" she countered.

"Because a golem is nothing!" he exclaimed. "Nothing
but wood and rag!"

"But you're not wood and rag anymore. You're flesh,
just as I am."

"The principle remains. My body may have changed,
but I'm still a golem."

She pondered. "So it's not really a failing in me, but
a failing in you."

"Now you've got it," he agreed grimly.




154 Golem in the Gean

"Thank you for explaining it to me. I really didn't
understand."

"You're welcome," he said, halfway wishing he were
wood and rag again. Then perhaps it wouldn't hurt so
much.

"But would you do one thing for me, please?"

"Of course. I said I'd get you to Castle Roogna,
and—"

"Squeeze me again?"

"What?"

"As you did before. Instead of saying 'Thank you.'"

He was somewhat baffled, and somewhat dismayed.
"Why?"

"I like it," she said simply.

Oh. He stood up on the bed, and she stood, and he
put his arms around her and squeezed, diffidently.

"No, that doesn't seem the same," she said.

"Because it's not spontaneous."

"That makes a difference?"

"Of course it does! Things that are acted out are never
as good as things that are natural. It's the difference
between make-believe and reality."

"All my life has been make-believe," she said. Her face
clouded up, and one big tear formed in her right eye.

"Don't feel that way!" Grundy exclaimed, squeezing
her more tightly. "You have all reality ahead of you!"

"But I don't understand reality!" she protested.

"Give it time, girl! Once you get to Castle Roogna—"

"Now it feels the same," she murmured.

"What?"

"The squeeze."

"Oh." Hastily he turned her loose.

"Wasn't it supposed to?"

How could he explain? He went to the edge of the bed

Golem in the Gears                 155

and peered over. He saw a nickelpede scuttling under.
The nickelodeon put down its slot and sucked the creature
in. More music played.

The nickelodeon spied him. "This is an excellent loca-
tion," it said. "There should be even more nickels when
night comes."

Probably true, Grundy realized. They would have to
get out of here, because when the nickelodeon became
sated, the nickelpedes would swarm, and that would be
doom for any normally fleshed creatures.

Rapunzel joined him. "Is he all right?" she asked.

She meant Snortimer. "I don't know. I'd better go down
and check."

"I'm sorry if I offended you," she said contritely. "I
really don't know how to interact with real people."

"No fault in you!" he said, embarrassed again. He went
to the leg of the bed and climbed down it.

"May I come too?" the damsel asked.

"There are nickelpedes down here," he reminded her.

She decided to remain above. He reached the floor,
circled the nickelodeon, and went to Snortimer. The hands
remained limp on the floor—but was there a hint of ani-
mation? Snortimer didn't breathe or eat the same way
other creatures did, but the big hairy hands did have nor-
mal flesh. Grundy touched a hand, and it was warm. That
confirmed that he was alive. "Snort?" he asked, but there
was no response.

He walked to the entrance of the grotto. The shadows
were lengthening outside, causing the golden hue of the
landscape to deepen. Dusk was coming—which meant
more nickelpedes. If Snortimer didn't revive soon—

He turned back. Rapunzel was sitting on the edge of
the bed, her pretty legs dangling down. "What are we
going to do?" she asked.

156 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 157

Legs dangling down. Grundy thought of something.
"Change to human size," he told her.

She started to stand up on the bed.

"No, stay sitting there," he said. "Just change—as you
are."

Perplexed, she resumed her position, then changed to
human size. Now her legs reached the floor.

One ofSnortimer's big hairy hands quivered. Bed Mon-
sters existed for no other purpose than to grab the ankles
of children sitting on beds. Rapunzel was at times childlike
in her innocence, and she had ankles that any creature
would like to grab. Would they be enough to rouse the
monster?

"Make a little scream," Grundy told her.

"What?"

"As if you're afraid something might grab your ankle."

She glanced down. "Eeek!" she said, starting to draw
her legs out of the way.

That did it. Suddenly one of Snortimer's hands moved
out and grabbed her ankle.

"EEEK!" Rapunzel screamed, wrenching her legs away.

Snortimer chuckled.

"He's back!" Grundy cried.

She clapped her hands. "Oh, how clever of you to
figure that out!"

"You just had the right ankles to revive him," Grundy
said. "Any creature who could resist them would be dead."

"But you never grabbed them," she pointed out.

"I'm not a Bed Monster." Grundy didn't care to admit
that he would have dearly liked to grab one other ankles,
had there been any respectable pretext to do so.

He turned and went back to the grotto entrance. His
gaze went out to the Ivory Tower, now a dark spike against
the dim horizon.

Then he heard something. It was a faint scream from
the region of the Tower, followed by a splash.

Seagulls had been patrolling the region. Now they
veered, to circle around the Tower.

Then the lighthouse beam went out.

"Something strange," Grundy said, returning to the
bed.

"I—felt it," Rapunzel said, putting one delicate hand
to her heart. "Something awful."

"There was a scream and a splash from the Ivory Tower,
then the beam went out."

"Oh, no!" she cried, horrified.

"What does it mean?"

"Mother Sweetness has died!"

"She—how can you know that?"

"I felt it, just now, but I didn't know what it was. But
I know that there has to be a living person in the Tower,
or the light goes out."

"She must have jumped!" Grundy exclaimed, his hor-
ror joining hers. "She didn't climb down the hair!"

"No point in that, once we took the boat," she said.
"She can't swim."

"But the tide—when it recedes, it is possible to walk
across to land. Didn't she know that?"

"Of course she knew that!"

"Then why didn't she wait for the tide?"

"She must—she must have wanted to die," Rapunzel
said brokenly. "Oh, it is all my fault!"

"But she doesn't die," Grundy reminded her. "She just
changes bodies."

"Yes." Then the damsel's lovely face twisted with new
horror. "She's ready to take a new body now!"

And the body the Sea Hag wanted was Rapunzel's.




158                 Golem in the Gears

Now, abruptly, her course made sense. Why wait for the
tide, while Grundy and the damsel went off into the jungle
where the Hag might never find them, when she could
act more rapidly and effectively as a temporary ghost?

Chapter 11. Siege

I/we've got to get out of here!" Grundy said.

"No use. As a ghost, she can move much faster than
we can. She's not limited to the region of her demise."

Grundy considered. "How long does she have to take
over a new body—do you know?"

"She never told me anything about that," the damsel
said tearfully.

Of course she wouldn't have! But Grundy remembered
the Monster of the Sea saying something about twelve
hours. Probably if the Hag did not succeed in taking over
Rapunzel's body during this night, the threat would be
over.

"Well, when we see her ghost coming, you be sure to
tell her your body is your own."

"Her ghost may not be visible," she pointed out. "Most
ghosts can't be seen unless they want to be."

"Still, we'd better move," he decided. "We have to get
clear of the nickelpede region."

"Whatever you say, Grundy," she said, frightened.

He went to the bed. "Snortimer, are you all right now?"

Golem in the Gears                 159

"All right," the Bed Monster agreed. "I thought it would
be easier to dissolve into dust, but then I saw those
ankles—"

"We'll have to move out the moment the darkness is
complete." Then Grundy saw another problem. "The bed!
How will we move the bed?"

"I can carry one end," the damsel volunteered.

"That's no work for a girl like you!" Grundy protested.
"It's a long trek."

She shrugged. "Maybe you can ask a monster."

"I'll go out and see what I can find."

"I'll go with you!" she said anxiously.

"But suppose too many nickelpedes come? We may
need you to step on them."

"But I don't want to be alone!"

"Alone?"

"I mean, with no human company. You see—"

"I'm not human company. I'm a golem."

"I mean—if she's coming to take my body—"

There was that. Snortimer might not know the differ-
ence, but probably he, Grundy, would. "She can't take
your body unless you let her. Do you plan to let her?"

"No!"

"Then you should be safe from that, regardless of the
company you're with."

"I don't think so. If she talks to me—"

And the Hag had run the damsel's life for two decades.
Rapunzel wasn't very good at saying no to things. "You're
right. We'd better stay together."

It was dark now, and Snortimer was fully operational.
"Can you carry one end of the bed?" Grundy asked the
monster.

"Sure."

160                 Golem in the Gears

"Then we'll haul it to regular ground, where I can see
what suitable monster I can find to carry it."

Snortimer lifted one end, and Rapunzel, in human-size,
lifted the other. Grundy led the way out of the grotto.

It was a short but difficult climb to the level land, and
the damsel was panting, her bosom heaving in the manner
that only that kind of bosom could, but they completed
the chore in good order. On one side was the Golden Coast
and the sea while on the other was sand and the onset of
the jungle. In the dim moonlight that jungle looked for-
bidding indeed.

Grundy stood on the bed and called to the nearest tree
in tree language: "Are there any good-sized monsters
around here?"

"There's the Gold Bug," the tree responded.

"What's that like?"

"It marches up and down the coast, gold-plating every-
thing."

"Does it ever go inland, to Lake Ogre-Chobee?"

"Never."

"Scratch that," Grundy muttered.

"What did it say?" the damsel asked.

"There's a Gold Bug, but it stays strictly on the Gold
Coast."

"I knew that," she said.

"So do you have a better suggestion?"

"Since we need to go to Lake Ogre-Chobee, maybe
we should find an ogre. Not all of them migrated north."

Grundy brightened. That was a better suggestion. He
moved as if to squeeze her, but this time thought the better
of it. For one thing, she remained human-sized at the
moment. "Any ogres around here?" he asked a different
tree.




Golem in the Gears                  161

"That depends on your definition of ogre," the tree
replied.

"Say, what kind of a tree are you?" Grundy demanded
suspiciously.

"I am a casuis-tree."

That figured. It was almost impossible to get any useful
information from a casuis-tree, because all it would do
was argue about fine points and make hair-splitting dis-
tinctions. He returned to the first one. "Any ogres here?"

"There's an ogress who prowls by almost every day."

Good enough! "Hey, Ogress!" Grundy yelled in ogre-
grunts. "We have mess!"

She heard him. "Hey great! Won't be late!" she bel-
lowed in reply, and began crashing toward them. By the
sound of it she was proceeding in normal ogre fashion,
knocking trees out of the way instead of going around
them.

Rapunzel was frightened. "I just thought—" she said
timidly.

"I'll make her some kind of deal," Grundy said reas-
suringly. "We'll be there in no time."

"But suppose—suppose Mother Sweetness takes over
the ogress?"

That stopped Grundy cold. If the ghost of the Sea Hag
took over the ogress, they would be in her power. That
would mean doom for Grundy and Snortimer, and the
Tower for Rapunzel. There seemed little doubt the Hag
could take over the ogress, for such monsters were noto-
riously stupid.

The crashing came nearer. "Hey, old shoe!" the ogress
called. "Where is you?"

But now Grundy did not dare answer. The risk was
too great.

They waited nervously, hoping the ogress would not

162

Golem in the Goon

Golem in the Gean

163

be able to find them. The crashing approached, then drifted
astray; without directions, she had lost them. "Me pound
head, make he dead!" Grundy heard the angry ogress
mutter in mild frustration as she moved away.

So much for enlisting the aid of a monster! No monster
could be trusted. Not while the ghost of the Sea Hag
hovered near.

"We'll just have to tote it ourselves," Grundy said
regretfully. "This is apt to be a long, hard trek."

"I don't mind," Rapunzel said. "I'm not in a hurry to
get to Castle Roogna anyway."

Grundy was surprised. "But that's where the human
beings are!"

"Yes," she agreed.

"You don't want to join them?"

"I like being with you," she said simply.

He couldn't answer that. "Might as well start off. I'll
get directions from the local foliage."

Rapunzel, in human size, picked up her half of the bed,
and Snortimer took his end. They carried the bed slowly
along, while Grundy selected the best route with the advice
of the plants.

Several hours later, they were marginally closer to Lake
Ogre-Chobee, and both Bed Monster and damsel were
tired. "We'll have to rest," Grundy decided. "This is going
to be a very long trek."

Snortimer crawled under the bed, and Rapunzel flopped
atop it, not bothering to change to smaller size. Grundy
considered staying awake to stand guard, but he was tired
too, as he had walked the full distance himself, and what
was slow for the other two was a running pace for him.
He might have ridden on the bed, as his weight would
hardly have made a difference to them, but he had felt
too guilty to do that.

"Alert me if any monsters approach," he told the sur-
rounding brush, and the brush agreed. Plants were gen-
erally accommodating things, when asked politely.

He settled down beside Snortimer under the bed, as
there was no room on top of it. He remained uneasy, but
he slept.

Some time later a hand came down to pick him up.
"Oh, Rapunzel," he said sleepily. "What's on your mind?"

"You have caused me a good deal of trouble, Golem,"
she said, frowning as she sat up and held him near her
face.

"I regret that," he said. "But there didn't seem to be
any better way."

"You could have stayed entirely out of my life," she
said, her even teeth showing in a way that was not com-
pletely attractive. "What business did you have at the
Ivory Tower anyway?"

"You know that," he reminded her. "It was the only
way to complete my Quest to rescue Stanley Steamer."

"A mere dragon!" she exclaimed derisively. "A trouble-
some monster! Hardly worth the ivory in its tusks!"

"Stanley has no ivory," he protested.

"Then it was for nothing at all," she said. "You messed
up my schedule something awful. Now I have to get back
to the coast and the Tower, through all this stupid jungle."

"But you don't want to go back there!" he protested.
"The Sea Hag is there!"

"The Sea Hag!" She sneered. Then she cackled. "Whom
the hell do you think you're talking to, wretch?"

Now at last he realized what had happened. The ghost
of the Hag had come while they slept, and taken over
Rapunzel's body! Disaster had come upon them.

He struggled to escape, but the grip was tight. "How
would you like me to squeeze you?" the Hag asked through




Golem in the Gears

164

the sweet lips of the damsel. Already the lovely features
were assuming an unlovely cast. The slender fingers closed
more tightly about him. The witch might have the body
of a fair young woman, but that hand had a lot more power
than existed in all of Grundy's body, and the force was
terrible.

He bared his teeth, leaned forward as far as he could,
and bit the uppermost finger. His relatively tiny teeth sank
into the massive flesh. He could not do lethal damage,
but the bite had to hurt.

"Wretch," the Hag screeched, dropping him. "I'll twist
your head off!"

Grundy scrambled under the bed, but the Hag hauled
the bed out of the way, exposing Snortimer, who whim-
pered. "I'll destroy both of you!" the Hag cried, snatching
for Grundy again.

He tried to run away, but she caught him and lifted
him up. "I'll bite your face off!" She opened her once-
sweet mouth, where the teeth already resembled fangs.

Grundy flailed desperately, though he knew that every-
thing was lost. "No! No!" he cried.

"Grundy! What's the matter?" she asked.

He was on the ground again, scrambling to avoid her
hand. "No! No!"

"But I don't know what to do!" she protested, the tears
starting.

Slowly it penetrated: he had been dreaming! It hadn't
happened. Rapunzel's body had not been taken over by
the witch.

"It's nothing," he said, shaken. "I just had a night-
mare." Indeed, now he saw the hoofprint of the mare.
What a dream she had brought him.

"A nightmare?" Rapunzel asked.

"You haven't met them before?"

Golem in the .Gear*                 165

"Well, I know what they are, of course. But Mother
Sweetness never allowed them in the Ivory Tower."

"That figures." He straightened himself around, shak-
ing dirt and twigs out.

"Let me bring you up to the bed," she said anxiously,
reaching for him again.

Grundy looked at the approaching hand. He saw a
mark on the index finger. "No!" he cried in panic.

"What?"

"How did you get that mark?" he demanded, pointing.

She looked. She rubbed her finger. Dirt smudged off.
Her finger had no injury.

He relaxed. "All right—bring me up," he agreed. "Then
change to my size." He knew he couldn't aflford to let a
bad dream cause him to distrust her.

She brought him up, and changed. Grundy described
his bad dream, and she was sympathetic. "Oh, no wonder
you shied away from me!" she said. "You thought I
was—"

"I should have known better," he said ruefully. "But
some of those nightmares are realistic."

"Let me squeeze you," she said.

"No!" Then he had to laugh. "Sorry. The dream—"

"Of course," she agreed, hurt.

"No, I really am sorry. Here." He leaned over and
kissed her.

Several things occurred at this point. He hadn't real-
ized he was going to do that; it was indeed spontaneous.
She, not quite realizing what he was up to, turned simul-
taneously to face him. Thus instead of kissing her cheek,
he scored on her lips. This changed the effect. Her lips
were the softest, sweetest things he had ever touched.

After an eternal moment, they broke. "I know what
that was!" she exclaimed, delighted. "That was a kiss!"

166                 Golem in the Gears

Grundy could only nod, privately overwhelmed by the
impact of it. It was obviously the first such experience
for her; it was also the first for him. And, he thought
ruefully, it had better be the last.

"How did I do?"

"What?"

"Did I kiss well?"

Well? He felt as if his feet had not yet regained the
ground. But how could he tell her that? The act had not
been intended as any test of her prowess! But if he told
her no, she would be hurt. "Uh, yes."

"Do people usually kiss when they're sorry?" she asked
brightly.

"Not exactly," he mumbled.

"Good. I'm not sorry. Let me try it now."

"You don't understand—" he protested, drawing away.

"But I'm really trying to understand," she said. "I want
to know how things are in the real world." She leaned
toward him, lips pursed.

He drew further away, not knowing what to say. As a
result, they both lost their balance and fell on the bed,
she on top of him. "Like this?" she asked, putting her
lips to his.

Grundy was pretty sure he would regret this, but for
a moment he gave up the fight. He wrapped his arms
about her and held her tight while they kissed.

After a much longer eternal moment, she lifted her
head, smiling. "Oh, my, this is fun!" she exclaimed. "I
never knew what I was missing, in the Ivory Tower!"

And he, Grundy, had never truly known what he was
missing, all of his life! But he couldn't tell her that. She
had what he lacked: a future with the human or elven
kind.

Golem in the Gears                 167

"Dawn is coming," he said somewhat gruffly. "We had
better get the bed to cover."

"Oh, my, yes!" she agreed. She sat up carefully, shifted
to human-size, and helped Snortimer carry the bed to the
deep shade of a stout umbrella tree. Then, remaining that
size, she moved about the area, locating and plucking
some fruits that she brought back to the bed. Then she
changed back to golem-size, and they chewed into the
huge fruit.

Now the sun was up and bright. "I think the ghost is
gone, now," Grundy said. "She must have had to take
some other form. So we can relax."

"Just the same," she said, "stay close by me."

Again, he knew he would be sorry, for the closer he
stayed by her, the more he liked her, and not just as a
friend. When she found her own place with her own kind,
whichever kind that might be, he would be twice as lonely
as before. But at least there was this moment—this
moment of the journey. Now he, like she, was not in any
great hurry to complete it.

They settled on the bed, lying side by side. She took
and held his hand, and he did not protest. Her little inti-
micies were so innocent, for her, and so significant for
him—but he didn't want to point that out to her. Her
naivete was part of her appeal.

They slept again, and this time no night mare visited.
But a pesky fly did. It was a fast-buzzing, biting kind,
and it settled on Grundy's leg and took a chomp. To a
human-sized person it would have been a nuisance; to
Grundy it was a jolt that wrenched him brutally from his
repose.

The fly was clumsy. He reached down and grabbed it
by the wings. It buzzed furiously, but he held it tight.




168 Golem in the Gears Golem in the Gears 169

"You bit me!" he exclaimed, in fly-talk, looking at the
welt rising around the fang marks on his leg.

"I'll do more than that to you, wretched golem!" it
responded.

"Yeah?" He looked about. Above them was a large
spider's web. "Do you want this fly?" he called out in
spider-talk.

The spider came out. "Certainly, if you're not going to
eat it yourself."

Grundy stood, then heaved the fly into the web. "Catch!

The spider caught. In a moment the fly was tied up in
webbing. Then the spider chomped off the fly's head.

"So much for that," Grundy said, slightly nauseated.
He wiped his hand off on the mattress of the bed. What
had possessed that fly to attack him like that?"

"Ooo!" Rapunzel exclaimed.

Grundy looked. Now a bee was coming at him, in a
bee-line. He threw himself out of the way, and the bee
plunged into the mattress and stung it before realizing that
it had missed its target. "Curses!" the bee buzzed in bee-
talk. "Foiled again!"

Unfortunately for the bee, it was one of the type that
die after stinging. In a moment the bee rolled over, dead.
Grundy took hold of it by a wing and hauled it to the edge
of the bed and over, so that it dropped to the ground.

"Why did it do that?" Rapunzel asked, amazed.

"I wish I knew!" Grundy said. "The insects of this
region don't seem to like me."

"Not only the insects!" the damsel exclaimed. "Look!"

A hummingbird was approaching. The humming became
loud as it hurled itself at Grundy. He leaped out of the
way, and it missed him and smacked into the trunk of the
umbrella tree. The shock was so great that it dropped to
the ground,dead.

"This is most curious," Grundy said. "All these crea-
tures attacking so blindly, and dying so quickly!"

There was a commotion in the brush. A rat scurried
toward them, its little red eyes gleaming, its needle-sharp
teeth showing. "I'm going to chomp your legs off, then
your arms, then your head!" it snarled in rat-talk. 'Then
I'll get mean."

"You can't fight that!" Rapunzel cried with alarm.

Indeed, he could not; the rat massed a good deal more
than he did, and had natural weapons he could not match.
It charged to the nearest leg of the bed and began to
scramble up.

"Snortimer!" Grundy cried.

The leg of the bed was in shadow. A big, hairy hand
came forth to grab the rat. It hurled the rodent into the
trunk of a tree.

The rat squeaked as it struck, and fell to the ground,
dead.

Grundy relaxed somewhat. "Something about this
doesn't add up," he said. "These creatures don't even
know me, yet—"

There was another disturbance. A Mundane hound
came into sight. Now that the border to Mundania was
open. Mundane creatures had migrated to Xanth in
increasing numbers. Many fell prey to the magic preda-
tors, but some survived nicely—and the hounds were
among the latter group.

This one slavered as it charged directly toward Grundy.
Rapunzel screamed and jumped off the bed, assuming her
human size. She scrambled into the brush.

The hound leaped for the bed. Grundy threw himself
to the side, and the hound missed, landing on the far side.
It rolled and turned, growling. "Grundy Golem, you will
be dead meat!" Then it leaped again, jaws gaping.




170 Golem in the Gears

Again, Grundy threw himself to the side, and the hound
was unable to correct course because it was in midair.
But again it reoriented. Grundy knew that he could not
avoid it much longer. But what could he do? He didn't
have time to get to a tree so that he could climb out of
its reach; he had to remain where he was, precarious as
that might be.

The hound leaped a third time, sailing over the bed—
and a club crashed down on its head, killing it.

Amazed, Grundy looked up. There was Rapunzel,
holding a heavy dead branch. "Oh, I never killed a real
animal before!" she cried. "But I had to! It was going to
eat you!"

"You had to," Grundy agreed weakly. Had Xanth gone
mad? All these completely unprovoked attacks!

"What did it growl at you?" she asked.

"It called me by name," Grundy said, remembering.

"But how could it know your name?"

Then the truth dawned: "The Sea Hag!" he exclaimed.
"She's assuming new forms!"

"She hates you," the damsel agreed.

There was a roar. "Oh, no!" Grundy cried. "That's a
chimaera!"

"We can't fight that!" she said.

"We never thought of what she would do if she didn't
get your body!" Grundy said. "She's more dangerous this
way than she was as either Hag or ghost!"

The chimaera stalked toward them. It had the head of
a lion, the tail of a serpent, and a second head of a Mun-
dane goat growing out of its back. It was one of the most
ferocious of Xanthly creatures.

"So, stupid golem, you come to your ridiculous end!"
the goathead bleated in caprine talk. "How could you ever
have thought you could oppose one of my ilk?"

Golem in the Gears                  171

"What's she saying?" Rapunzel asked, shaking with
terror.

"I'll tell you what I'm saying!" the lionhead roared in
feline tongue. "Golem, I'm going to consume you and that
Bed Monster, piece by bloody piece, unless—"

"She's making a deal!" Grundy whispered, amazed all
over again.

"What kind of deal?" the damsel asked, perplexed
despite her terror.

"Tell her this, Golem," the goathead bleated. "I will
destroy you and the Bed Monster, unless the damsel
returns to me."

Suddenly the nature of the campaign came clear! The
Sea Hag had not given up on Rapunzel; she wanted the
damsel back under control, in the Ivory Tower. That would
have only one end.

"I won't tell her that!" Grundy said.

"Tell her!" the lionhead roared. "Or I'll destroy her
too!"

And that, too, made sense. If the Sea Hag couldn't
have her captive back, there would be nothing left for her
except revenge. Certainly she would never let Rapunzel
go free to live her own life! Wouldn't it be better at least
to let the damsel live?

"I know what she wants!" Rapunzel cried. "Oh, I'd
rather die!"

"Then die you shall!" the lionhead roared. "But first
you will watch what I do to your foolish friends, just in
case you should be moved to change your mind." The
monster stalked forward.

But now there was a new commotion—and Grundy
knew it couldn't be another incarnation of the Hag, because
the last one hadn't died.

In a moment it came into view: two people, a handsome

172 Golem in the Gears

young man and a pretty young woman. "Jordan! Thren-
ody!" Grundy cried with enormous relief.

The chimaera glanced back with one of its heads.
"Nobody can save you, Golem!" it snarled. "I will destroy
them too!"

Grundy wondered what impossible coincidence had
brought his friends here at this moment. But he didn't
stop to ponder. "I'm in trouble!" he called.

Jordan drew his sword. "Not anymore," he said con-
fidently. He advanced on the monster. He was a fine figure
of a barbarian warrior.

"Very well, fool!" the lionhead snarled. No ordinary
man could stand up to a chimaera, and the Hag knew it.

Jordan, however, was not an ordinary man. He had
been a ghost for several hundred years, and now was alive
again. He had been just about fearless in his first life, and
now he was more so. He had a special talent that the Hag
might not know about.

The chimaera pounced. Jordan slashed so quickly and
hard with his sword that the monster's lionhead was lopped
off.

Surprised, the monster landed, turned, and surveyed
the situation. Another creature might have died on the
spot, but this one was made of sterner stuff. Then the
goathead opened its mouth and spewed forth a stream of
fire.

Jordan tried to duck, but wasn't quick enough. The
fire caught the upper part of his head, burning off his hair,
one ear, and an eyeball or two. Rapunzel screamed.

Now the chimaera stepped up, the goathead guiding the
lionclaws. It raised a foot, about to disembowel the still-
standing man.

"Right before you!" Threnody called. "Now!"

r

Golem in the Gears                  173

With one mighty heave of his sword, Jordan cut off
the goathead.

This was too much even for the chimaera. It fell down
and died.

"But the man!" Rapunzel cried with horror. "His eyes!"

"Yes, I'm afraid they're pretty well cooked," Threnody
said, cocking her head as she studied Jordan. "But don't
be concerned; he heals quickly."

"He—?"

"His talent," Grundy explained. "He can't be perma-
nently hurt. You'll see."

Threnody took Jordan by the hand and guided him to
the bed. "Sit down," she told him. "Danger's over."

Grundy wasn't at all sure of that, but he hoped there
would be a while before the Hag found another monster
to occupy. "How did you come to be here?" he asked.

"We received a message from Bink," Threnody
explained. "He told us that it would probably be a good
thing if we traveled through this section of Xanth. So we
did."

"Bink! But he didn't even know I'd be here, or what
trouble I'd be in!"

"It must have been a lucky coincidence, then," she
said.

A lucky coincidence. The kind that happened perpet-
ually when Bink was around. Now it had been extended
to the farthest shore of Xanth. What was there about the
man?

Threnody glanced at Rapunzel. "I don't believe I know
you."

"She's Rapunzel," Grundy said. "I'm rescuing her from
the Sea Hag."

"The Sea Hag?"

"She's immortal. She occupies other folk's bodies, until

174 Golem in the Gears

they die. She was in this chimaera. Now she'll appear in
some other form, and try to kill us again. We're under
siege."

Threnody pursed her lips. "I see. Then I think we had
better stay with you for a while." She glanced at Jordan.
"Feeling better, dear?"

Jordan's head was already sprouting new hair. His
scorched-off ear was growing back, and his eyes seemed
to be uncocking. It was an amazing thing to watch. He
nodded affirmatively; he was feeling better.

"You may have to fight again, soon," Threnody told
him.

Jordan shrugged. Evidently the prospect didn't bother
him.

"If no attack occurs within an hour, we should be all
right," Threnody said. "What sort of form will this Hag
assume next?"

"There's no telling," Grundy said. "We'll have to be
suspicious of everything."

"Very well. I'll stand guard; the rest of you rest."

"I couldn't rest!" Rapunzel protested. "This has been
so horrible!"

"Then let the menfolk rest," Threnody suggested. "You
and I can chat."

Grundy sighed internally. Now the damsel would find
out what real human beings were like. He had known it
would happen, but had hoped he would have a few more
days before then. Still, the arrival of Jordan and Threnody
had been most timely, and he really couldn't protest. His
relationship with Rapunzel would be over, but at least he
had his life.

"Come on, Jordan," he said to the healing man. "Lie
down here for an hour. I'll snooze on your chest, if you

Golem in the Gears                 175

don't mind. That way, I'll know if anything approaches
you."

Jordan lay down, and Grundy climbed onto the man's
solid chest and lay down. He didn't really expect to sleep,
but he surprised himself by doing so almost immediately.

Chapter 12. Ever-Glades

They slept a good deal more than an hour; it was
afternoon when Grundy woke. Jordan was just stirring;

that was what had alerted him. The girls were nearby,
putting the finishing touches on a pretty repast.

Jordan sat up, and Grundy simply climbed to his shoul-
der. The man's head was entirely better now; his hair had
regrown completely, and his eyes and ears were whole.
There weren't even any scars; it was just as if he had
never suffered injury. Grundy had known about the man's
talent, but this still impressed him. Any other man would
have been in very sad state, after such a battle with a
chimsera.

"I'm hungry," Jordan exclaimed, stretching. "Let's eat."

They went to join the girls. There were fruits and nuts
of many descriptions, and milk and bread and cookies and
assorted other delicacies. "Where did you find all this?"
Grundy demanded.

Threnody shrugged. "Oh, here and there," she said.




Golem in the Gears

176

"There are always good things to be found in Xanth, if
you know where to look."

Evidently so. "But the Hag—"

"Never showed," Rapunzel said brightly. She was
golem-size, and she had done something with her wild,
shorn hair, because now it was pleasantly curly. Her cloth-
ing had been ragged and sweat-soaked after the trudge,
but now it was neat and clean. She had been the prettiest
young woman he had encountered; now she was more so.

"Maybe she was tired, after getting killed so many
times," he said uncertainly.

"Come, sit down, eat," Rapunzel said, leading him to
a chair fashioned from a fragment of wood and some
straw. "What will you have?"

"We really should be under cover, in case she comes
as a big bird, or a dragon—"

Rapunzel shook her head. "See those chips in a big
circle around us, Grundy?" she asked, pointing.

He looked. "Yes, but—"

"That's reverse-wood. If she tried to pass that circle,
it will reverse her magic."

"Reverse-wood!" he exclaimed. "I didn't realize that
was here!"

"Threnody found it," she said. "She and Jordan have
been traveling through the area, and they found a cache
on the other side of Lake Ogre-Chobee, near the region
of madness, so they brought some along. She carried it
in her purse. Of course she couldn't stay too close to him
when he fought, or when he was healing, but—"

"I'll say!" he agreed. "Reverse-wood reverses any magic
in its vicinity! I remember when the Good Magician was
near some, and his information became disinformation.

But—"

"Its range is very short," she reassured him. "It doesn't

Golem in the Gears                  177

affect us, as long as we don't go too close to the circle.
But it kept Mother Swe—the Sea Hag away. She may be
watching us now, but she doesn't dare come in, because,
even if she flew over the circle, we could toss a chip at
her."

"That's terrific!" he cried. "You're very smart!"

"Oh, no. Threnody figured it out. She's been in the
wilderness a long time and is jungle-wise. She told me a
lot."

Surely so! "So now you can see what the human state
is like," he said, glad for her, but sad for himself.

"Actually, Threnody's a halfbreed, like me. She's a
human/demon cross, while I'm human/elven. She married
a straight human man."

"Say, I had forgotten it in the excitement!" Grundy
exclaimed. "Jordan is your—"

She blushed fetchingly. "Yes. My ancestor."

"Your ancestor," he repeated. "I hope you find him
satisfactory."

She laughed. "Silly! How can I pass judgment on him?"

"Still, he's a full human being, so you can get a notion
what that is like."

"Not really. He's a barbarian from four hundred years
ago; he has never been part of today's society, because
he stays with Threnody, and she can't go to Castle
Roogna."

Because the curse on her would cause Castle Roogna
to fall. The girls had evidently been talking about various
things. "Well, once we get you to the castle, you'll be
able to see human society for yourself."

"True," she agreed, not sounding enthusiastic.

Meanwhile, Threnody had been talking with Jordan,
who of course had not had a chance before to catch up

178 Golem in the Gears

on all the wrinkles of this situation. Now he looked across
at Rapunzel. "Say," he said. "You remind me of—"

"Of her elfin ancestor, Bluebell," Threnody said firmly.
She tweaked his restored ear. "Past history for you, bar-
barian."

He laughed. "Bluebell! She was certainly a fine—Yow!"
For Threnody had converted her tweak into a fierce pinch.

"Do you see anything wrong with a man marrying a
crossbreed?" Rapunzel asked Jordan.

He hesitated. Threnody gave his ear another pinch.
"No, of course not," he said quickly. And everyone
laughed.

The meal was wonderful. Rapunzel insisted on select-
ing delicacies for him, catering to his every whim. Soon
Grundy was stuffed. He liked all of this very well—the
food and the service. But he did not let himself forget that
such pleasure would soon pass.

They rested again in the afternoon, preparing for the
night. This time Grundy and Rapunzel had the bed and
slept holding hands, though it was evident that there was
no immediate threat. No night mare came; it was hard for
the mares to reach a sleeper by day. Jordan and Threnody
took a walk, scouting out the vicinity; they didn't seem
to need as much rest as Grundy and Rapunzel did, perhaps
being jungle-hardened.

At dusk Grundy stirred and found Rapunzel still asleep,
still holding firmly to his hand. She was such a beautiful
and nice creature, whether awake or asleep! If only she
had been a golem...

She woke. Her eyes opened and fastened on him, and
she smiled. "Come here, Grundy," she said. "I want to
do something spontaneous."

Against his better judgment he leaned down to her. She
caught him in her arms, drew him close, and kissed him.

T

Golem in the Gean

179

"You shouldn't be doing this," he told her when she
let him go.

"Why?"

Those innocent, direct questions! How could he
answer? But he was obliged to try, again. "You don't want
to spoil your future with your own kind."

"Did Jordan spoil his future, when he dallied with Blue-
bell?"

She was the descendant of that union! Of course she
saw no wrong in it. But did this mean that she saw him
as Jordan had seen the elven maid? Someone to be loved
and left?

He broke contact, got to his feet, and headed for the
edge of the bed.

Rapunzel scrambled after him. "Grundy!" she cried.
"Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry!"

No, of course she hadn't said anything wrong, by her
definitions. He was the one who was being difficult. Why
couldn't he just accept the way she was, enjoy her atten-
tion while it lasted, and be satisfied when it was over?

She caught his hand again. "I only want to please you,
Grundy," she said, her eyes beginning to fill. They were
shifting colors, as was their way; at the moment they were
going from purple to blue. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing," he said, realizing that part of this was
Threnody's doing: advice on the practicing of wiles, an
area in which the woman was surely expert. "But I'm not
Bluebell."

"I don't understand!" she protested, her chin trem-
bling.

What could he do? "Of course you don't," he said
gently, and squeezed her hand.

They climbed down off the bed and checked on Snor-

180                 Golem in the Gears

timer. He was fine; the day's rest had done him a lot of

good.

Now Jordan returned, leading a monster. It seemed to

be a small sphinx: a creature with the head of a woman,
the body of a lion, and large bird's wings. It towered over
the man, for even a small sphinx was a giant among ani-
mals. The oddest thing was its face, for it resembled—

"Threnody!" Grundy exclaimed.

"Well, it is my talent," the sphinx replied. "We thought
it would be easier traveling if we had some size."

Grundy remembered: her talent was the changing of
form. This was similar to Prince Dolph's talent; but while
he was a Magician, and could change instantly to any
living thing, she was a demon crossbreed, and could do
it only slowly and stage by stage. It must have taken her
all afternoon to achieve the size, mass and form of this
monster, and it would take her just as long to change back

to her natural aspect.

But she was right: some size would be useful. Now
she could carry the bed and the rest of them without
difficulty, greatly facilitating the trek to Lake Ogre-
Chobee. Even the Hag would hesitate to attack a monster

like this!

Night closed in. Now they had a problem: what about

the reverse-wood? Some of that ought to be brought along,
but Threnody could no longer carry it, for it would seri-
ously interfere with her magically achieved state. Anyone
who carried it would have to travel apart from the rest of
the group, and that would be awkward at best, and dan-
gerous at worst. The Hag might be waiting for just such
a division of the party, so she could pick off outlying

members.

"We'll have to leave it behind," Grundy decided with

regret. "It's more dangerous to us than to the Hag, while

Gotem in the Gears                 181

we travel, because we can't just leave it in a circle. It will
be a liability to whoever carries it."

"Maybe we could drag some along behind us, on a long
lead," Jordan suggested.

That seemed worth trying. They got a vine, packed
some chips in a bag, and tied it to the end of the vine.
The other end of the vine they tied to the tail of the sphinx.
It was an odd-looking arrangement, but it seemed to be
the best way.

Jordan loaded the bed on Threnody's back and fas-
tened it there. Then Snortimer climbed up, and helped
Grundy and Rapunzel. Jordan preferred to travel under
his own power, so he walked alongside.

The sphinx moved out. Each step was a giant one, and
though the pace seemed slow, progress was fast. The brush
and trees moved smartly to the rear.

Snortimer was intrigued. It was the first time he had
traveled on top of the bed, instead of under it. He had
no eyes or ears that showed, but he could evidently see
and hear, and he made a thumbs-up gesture with a couple
of hairy hands. Fortunately for him, the moon was dim
this night, and out of position; there was not enough light
to hurt him. Grundy knew that the green cheese that com-
prised the moon aged rapidly, so that it could not glow
with full force after the first few days, and by the end of
the month it would fade all the way to oblivion. Then,
phoenixlike, it would regenerate for the next month.

Soon they left the jungle and emerged into a broad
expanse of swamp or field. Tall grass ranged as far as the
eye could see, even from this elevated perch; it was punc-
tuated only by occasional islands of trees.

"Have you been here before?" Grundy asked the sphinx.

"No," she answered. "We came down from the north,

182                 Golem in the Gears

after we crossed Xanth. I've never seen a field like this

before."

"It's the Ever-Glades," Rapunzel said. "We have to
cross it to reach Lake Ogre-Chobee from this direction.
There's something funny about it, but I'm not sure what."
"Something the Hag didn't tell you?" Grundy asked.
"Maybe. She only told me what she thought I ought
to know. Of course I never expected actually to be here."

The sphinx plowed on, leaving the grass swiftly behind.
One tree island after another passed, but the overall ter-
rain didn't change. The night passed, and morning came,
but still the glades stretched out interminably.

A bird with a crown flew by. Suddenly it plunged into
a patch of water, nabbing a fish. "Oh, that's a kingfisher!"
Rapunzel exclaimed, clapping her hands.
"The king of birds?" Grundy asked.
"Not exactly. It fishes for kings among the fishes."
Farther along they spied a long green creature basking
in the early sun. "What's that?" Grundy asked.

"That's an allegory," Rapunzel said. "They often asso-
ciate with hypotenuses and relevants and parodies. They
can be very dangerous if they catch a person offguard."

Grundy had heard about the other creatures. The hypot-
enuse was big and blubbery with a triangular-shaped ori-
fice; the relevant was even larger, with a nose that dangled
to the ground; and the parody was a bird that liked crack-
ers. None of them were the sort he cared to encounter
casually, but the allegory was the worst.

Indeed, the allegory was now swimming toward Jor-   i
dan, climbing out on the muddy bank. But the barbarian
simply drew his sword and braced himself, and the green
monster changed its mind. It turned on fat little legs and
returned to the shallow water. It seemed that not too many

Golem in the Gears

183

creatures cared to tangle with a barbarian warrior who
was looking for a fight.

They snacked on the remnants of the prior day's feast,
while the sphinx cruised on. Threnody was surely getting
hungry, but she didn't complain; she probably wanted to
get them all safely across this blank region before chang-
ing back to human form.

But the Glades went on and on, endlessly. Afternoon
came, and then evening, and nothing seemed to have
changed. "At this velocity, we should have been there by
now," Rapunzel said, worried.

Now the sphinx paused. "I just remembered some-
thing," she said. "Sphinxes have excellent memories! The
Glades are magic. They go on forever. That's why they
are called 'Ever-Glades.'"

"Forever?" Grundy asked, horrified. "But then how
do we get across them?"

"This is the kind of question that can send a person
hurtling from a cliff to doom," the sphinx said.

"Maybe we can use the reverse-wood," Rapunzel sug-
gested.

"How would that work?" Grundy asked. "It only
reverses what's next to it, and the Glades are every-
where."

"Well, maybe one step at a time," she said uncertainly.

"Worth trying," Jordan said. "I'll fetch it in." He walked
back.

But in a moment he said, "Oh-oh. Cord broke."

It was true. Somewhere along the way the cord had
frayed and separated, and the reverse-wood had been lost.

"I can change to a bird and look around," Threnody
offered. "That would take some time, however."

"There's no point in trudging on endlessly," Grundy
said.




T

184

Golem in the Gear*

Golem in the Gears

185

So they made camp where they were. There was an
island of palm trees close by, their palms and fingers
spreading out to provide shade, and some had cocoa-nuts
filled with warm cocoa. It was a satisfactory place to visit,
though they didn't want to stay there forever.

As night closed, Snortimer came out from under the
bed; he had had to hide when day had come. Threnody
commenced her change to bird-form. This was fascinating
to see. First she gradually lost mass without changing size
or shape, so that after an hour she was a ghostly sphinx
that the others could walk through without hurting her.
Then she changed to bird-size, with all her diminished
mass solidifying. That took another hour. Finally she
changed to bird-form, becoming a swift, which of course

could fly high and fast.

"She's been working on that," Jordan said with pride.
"It isn't easy to fly, just because you have the bird's form;

you have to learn how. She still can't do it as well as a
real bird can, but she's improving."

The swift spread her wings and took off. She was some-
what clumsy, and lurched a bit, but she got straightened
out and ascended into the starry night sky. If Lake Ogre-
Chobee were close by, she would surely spy it!

Then a larger shape appeared, flying after the swift.
"That's a falcon!" Jordan exclaimed. "Get out of there,
Renee!" It was a nickname he called her, dating from the

time she had been a ghost.

The swift turned and dived, trying to get back to camp,
but the falcon followed, cutting across to catch her.
"Gotcha, you interfering wench!" the falcon squawked in

bird-talk.

"That's the Sea Hag!" Grundy cried, appalled.
Jordan brought out his bow and nocked an arrow.
"You can't shoot!" Rapunzel protested. "It's dark, and

they're moving; if you hit anything, it's likely to be the
wrong one!"

But the barbarian squinted, and held his arm, and as
the hawk dug her claws into the swift and spread her wings
to ascend, he fired. The shaft sailed up—and transfixed
the body of the hawk. Both birds fell—but the swift was
alive, the hawk dead.

"What an amazing shot!" Rapunzel exclaimed.
"I'm a barbarian!" Jordan said shortly, putting away

his bow. He strode out to recover the swift.

She was injured. The Hag-hawk's talons had punctured

her body, damaging muscles and tissues. She was not in

critical condition, but she would not be flying again this

night.

Jordan shook his head, pained. "She can't heal the way
I do," he said. "I never meant for her to get hurt!"

"The Hag was just biding her time, waiting her chance,"
Grundy said. "She wanted to get rid of Threnody, because
she was making it too easy for us to travel. I should have
been alert for that."

"We none of us were thinking," Jordan said gruffly.
They stood a kind of vigil, while Threnody slowly
returned to her normal form. It took half the night, because
of her injuries, but at last she was lying in human guise,
with puncture-wounds in her arms and body. Grundy
wished they had some healing elixir, but that was precious
stuff and no one had thought it necessary.

"Oh, it can be so ugly in real life," Rapunzel murmured.
"Almost, I wish—"

"That's what the Hag wants," Grundy reminded her.
"To make you so miserable that you'll be glad to go back
to the Ivory Tower."

Her chin firmed. "I'll never go back there!" she
exclaimed.




186                 Golem in the Gears

They rested for the rest of the night, as there was no
point in trying to travel, especially with Threnody injured.
Grundy and Rapunzel insisted that Threnody be given the
bed to lie on, until she was better. "And ifSnortimer grabs
your ankle, don't be concerned," Rapunzel told her. "He
means no harm."

"And he has good taste in ankles," Grundy added.
The two of them settled in a nest of tall grass they
fashioned. Rapunzel had never once changed to her human-
size, since the arrival of Jordan and Threnody. She stayed
close to Grundy, and always held his hand when they
settled down. He didn't dare confess how much he liked

that.

"I wish the falcon hadn't been killed," he said morosely.
"I know what you mean. Now she's loose again."
"And we don't know when or where or in what form

she'll strike."

"I wish there was some way to make her stop wanting
my body!" Rapunzel said. "I don't really want harm to
come to her, I just want her to leave me alone."

"Well, if we get you to Castle Roogna," he said, "I'm
sure someone there will be able to help you."

She lay a while in silence. Then, with feminine shift
of mood, she asked: "Why did you say you aren't Blue-
bell?"

He sighed. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. I made you unhappy, and I didn't want
to do that. Threnody gave me some advice on how to get
along with a man, but it doesn't seem to be working very
well."

"Because I'm not a man," he said.

"Well, you certainly aren't a woman! It's obvious you
aren't Bluebell. So why did you have to say it?"

Golem in the Geare                187

Regretfully, he explained. "Because she was just a tem-
porary connection. He loved her and left her."

"But that was all it was ever supposed to be!" she
protested. "Elves and men don't stay together."

"True."

"And I'm descended from them."
"True."

"So why aren't you Bluebell? I mean, of course you
aren't, but—"

"I don't want to be loved and left."
"But nobody's leaving you!"

"You are. Once we get you to Castle Roogna, so you
can join your own kind."

"I'm not even sure what my own kind is!"

"Human or elven," he said tiredly. "You'll be able to
take your choice."

She considered. "Let me see if I have this straight, at
last. You like me, but you know I'll leave you when I find

out what my true heritage is, so you don't want to get
too involved."

Grundy was startled. "That's it exactly!"
"And you're a golem, a living golem, and there's no

one else exactly like you, male or female, so you know

you have to be alone."

It was amazing how completely she understood his
situation, now. "Yes."

"But if you ever did find someone else, you would
never change your mind."

How tellingly and cruelly she put it, without under-
standing how it cut him. "I'm glad you finally have it
clear."

"You don't sound glad."

"I'm glad you understand, not glad for me," he clari-
fied.




Golem in the Gears                 189

188                Gol»m in tho Gaora

"I may have it straight, but I don't understand."

"What?"
"Now you're confused," she said, satisfied. "Serves

you right!" And she took his hand and settled down to

sleep.

It took him somewhat longer.
Next day, while Threnody continued to lie on the bed

and heal, now and then dangling a well-turned ankle down
for Snortimer to grab at, the others tried to find some
way out of the Ever-Glades. Since there was no end to
the sealike grass, they explored the island of palm trees.
But it was only an island; no matter which way they went
through it, they came out on the opposite side and faced
the expanse of grass again. The faint hope that the trees

would banish the grass was dashed.

Grundy tried questioning the palms. "Do you know

any way out of here?"

The hands clapped, applauding the question. "There

is no way out of here! That's what's so nice about the

Ever-Glades."

An allegory swam up, checking them over. It looked

just like the one they had seen before. "Do you know any

way out of here?" he asked it.

"Well, speaking metaphorically," the creature began.

"Yes or no?"
The allegory smiled with its long and toothy snoot.

"No." Then it tried to snap him up.

Grundy jumped back, ready for that move. Naturally

such a predator wouldn't tell him of any way out.

"I guess," Jordan said at last, "we had better just plow
on and hope we get somewhere. That's the barbarian way."

That did not appeal particularly to Grundy, but he had
nothing better to offer. If they weren't going to get out of
the Glades, they might as well do it with their best effort.

They decided to move out at nightfall, because Thren-
ody pronounced herself well enough to travel. But she
was obviously not completely healed, so the others refused
to let her change to sphinx-form and carry them; she had
to remain as herself.

Who would carry the bed? Rapunzel could change to
human size and carry one end, but she seemed reluctant
to do that. She had remained golem-sized the whole time
they were in the Ever-Glades, and Grundy appreciated
that without quite understanding her rationale. Certainly
there were advantages to the human size! Threnody was
too weak to do it, and Snortimer was likely to have trouble
doing it here in the swamp; his hands tended to sink into
the muck, making progress difficult unless he used all five
of them cleverly. Grundy himself couldn't do it; he was
far too small.

That left Jordan. "No problem," the barbarian said.

"But who will carry the other end?" Grundy asked.

"Just tie the bed to my back," Jordan said.

"But it's too heavy to—"

"Not for an uncivilized warrior," he said cheerfully.
And indeed he was correct; they bound the bed to his
back, and he heaved it up, leaned forward somewhat, and
strode forth.

The others followed. Threnody was second, and Grundy
and Rapunzel mounted Snortimer and brought up the rear.
The Bed Monster was able to carry them without diffi-
culty, because they were small and light and because he
didn't need to use any hands to hold them in place, as he
would have had to do for the bed. He picked his way
across the tufts and hummocks of the swamp, and kept
the pace handily.

But it was to no avail. They trudged along all night,
and as dawn threatened they remained exactly where they




190                 Qolem in the Gears

had been: in the middle of the Glades. They found another
copse of trees exactly like the first and set up the bed
under a palm tree just like the first.

"Oh!" Rapunzel exclaimed.

Grundy rushed over, alarmed. "What?"

"This is the same place!" she exclaimed. "See, there
are the dents of the four bed legs, and there's the place
where we buried our—" here she pinkened a trifle—

"refuse."

Sure enough: their toilet trench was there. Grundy

alerted the others, and quickly they verified that every
tree was the same. with the same cocoa-nut shells remain-
ing. They had been here before.

"But we traveled in a straight line!" Jordan said,
scratching his head. "I steered by the stars; I know I didn't

make any circle!"

The others agreed. They had not drifted aimlessly. But

this was the same place they had left.

"Let me check this," Jordan said. He stepped out toward
the nearest other island of palms.

"Take me with you!" Grundy cried.

"Okay," the barbarian agreed, and reached down a
hand for him. Grundy scrambled up to his shoulder.

They crossed rapidly to the other copse. At one point
there was a stirring in the water, but Jordan put his hand
on his sword and Grundy called out: "Keep your snoot

clear, allegory!"

"Oh, you again," the allegory muttered from the shadow.
"You'll never find your way out of here, you know."

It was the same allegory! Grundy felt a chill, for he
knew the creature could not have followed them all that

way on its fat little legs.

The other island turned out to be identical to the first,

Golem in the Gears

191

cocoa-nut shards and all, and—there were the others of
their party!

"What are you doing here?" Grundy demanded.

"What are you doing here?" Rapunzel responded. She
was now sitting on Threnody's shoulder, emulating Grun-
dy's style. "We just watched you enter the other copse!"

"We did," Grundy said. "This is the other copse!"

"No, this is the original one," she insisted. "We never
moved."

"Something mighty peculiar here," Jordan said.

With that they all agreed. But Rapunzel was more
thoughtful than the others. "I wonder—I wasn't told much
about the Ever-Glades, but there is something—they're
not as big as they seem."

"That doesn't make much difference," Grundy said,
"if we can't get out."

"I think we should experiment," she said. "You see,
we watched you go northwest, but you came up behind
us, from the southeast. Maybe if we had watched the other
way—"

"Say, yes," Grundy agreed. "Let's try it again, only
this time you watch both ways."

And so they did. He and Jordan headed northwest
toward the other copse, while Rapunzel dismounted and
watched them go, and Threnody went to the opposite side
of the island and watched for what might occur there.

About halfway across, Grundy's sharp eyes spied
something. "There's someone there!" he said.

Jordan peered ahead. "That's Renee!" he said.

Grundy turned to look back. Because he knew exactly
where to look, he was able to spot little Rapunzel. "They're
both places," he said.

They proceeded on past the allegory and reached the




192                 Golem in the Gears

new copse. "You never left, right?" Jordan asked Thren-
ody.

"Correct," she agreed. "I simply crossed, and saw you

coming from the other island."

Now it was definite: it was all the same place, no matter
how they moved. Grundy crossed over to the northwest
side, leaving Jordan and Threnody where they were, joined
Rapunzel, and looked across to the other copse. There
he was able to spy two figures, male and female, standing

at its southeast edge.

"We are all here—and there—and everywhere,"

Grundy said, amazed.

"Now I think I remember," Rapunzel said. "It's a—a

little universe in itself. We simply go round and round it,

never escaping."

"And all our long treks—were simply round and round,"

Grundy agreed. "We should have saved our energy."

Jordan and Threnody came up. "How the blank are
we going to get out of here?" Jordan asked, bewildered.

The others shrugged. They had no idea. It seemed that
they really were stuck in the Ever-Glades forever.

Chapter 13. Fauns & Nymphs

They ate and rested, as they were all tired and
there seemed to be nothing better to do at the moment.
Grundy and Rapunzel slept on the bed, while Jordan and
Threnody settled elsewhere in the copse.

In early afternoon they woke. Rather, Grundy woke;

the damsel was already awake, because she was kissing
him.

"I suppose this is a silly question," he began when she
was through. "But—"

"I was just thinking," she said, addressing his question
skew-fashion. "Here we are, lost in the Ever-Glades
because we just can't seem to find out how to get any-
where. And here we are too, you and I, for the same
reason."

"The same—?"

"If I knew how to get anywhere with you, I'd do it.
But I can't figure out how."

"Rapunzel, you don't need to get anywhere with me!"
he protested. "You have two whole futures to choose
from!"

"Because I just can't make you listen. And I wish I
could."

"But—"

"So I kissed you," she concluded simply.
193




194                 Golem in the Gears

Evidently that made sense to her. Grundy sighed and

got up.

"Suppose we never do find our way out of here?" she

inquired after a moment. "Would that be so bad? I mean,
I was trapped in the Ivory Tower for most of my life, and
I got along all right, and so I'm used to it, only now I
have company, and maybe in time you would accept it

too."

To be sealed away forever, with plenty of food, and
her for company? No, it wouldn't be bad! But he knew
he had no right to want that. "I have a Quest," he reminded
her. "I promised to rescue Stanley Steamer."

"Yes, of course," she agreed. "You're very conscien-
tious."

They foraged for another meal. "I wonder where that

Hag of yours is?" Jordan said.

"She must be trapped here too," Grundy conjectured.
"Unless she knows some way out."

"I don't think she would have come here, if she didn't
know a way out," Rapunzel said. "I'm sure she knew the

nature of the Ever-Glades."

The allegory nosed up to the island. "I certainly did,"

it said in reptile-talk.

Grundy jumped. "You!" he exclaimed.

"You mean that's the Sea Hag, now?" Threnody asked.

"Yes," Grundy agreed heavily. "It seems she took over
that body, after the hawk died."

"I'll kill it!" Jordan said grimly.

"No, that will only free her for another form," Grundy
warned. "Better to keep her in the form we know."

"But it's a dangerous form," Threnody said nervously.

"Any form is dangerous, when it's the Sea Hag," Grundy

said.

"Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, looking at Threnody.

Golem in the Gears

195

She continued to heal, but the marks remained on her
body. It was evident that Jordan was more upset by the
injuries she had received from the Hag than the far worse
ones he had received. Considering his own talent, this
was understandable.

The allegory was listening to them, evidently under-
standing human speech though it could only talk in rep-
tilian. "And I know the way out of here," it hissed. "If
you want to escape the Glades, I can tell you how."
"Fat chance!" Grundy hissed back.
"You know what I want, Golem," it said.
"What's she saying?" Rapunzel asked, worried.
"You know what she's saying," Grundy said.
"Oh." Again her hand went to her mouth, in that maid-
enly alarm he found so attractive.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "That's one deal we'll
never make."

"But if she can get you free—"
"No!"

"Yes," the reptile hissed. "Not today, not this week
perhaps. But after a month, a year of idleness, of bore-
dom, however long it takes, you will be ready to deal.
Send her back to the Ivory Tower, and I will show you
the way out of the Glades."

"Jordan," Grundy said sharply. "I've changed my mind.
I think this creature should be killed."

Jordan smiled. He drew his sword. But the allegory
moved with surprising swiftness, splashing back into the
water and zipping away, out of reach.

"At least we know there is a way," Grundy said.
"There is a way," Rapunzel agreed, gazing at him.
In the later afternoon Threnody approached Grundy.
"I'm getting better," she said. "I could change to a form
that could go after that allegory, and—"




196 Golem in the Gears

"To what point?" he asked. "We really shouldn't kill
it, and it certainly won't tell us what we want to know.
Not without a deal I won't make."

"I was thinking more deviously," she said. "I'm not
the nicest of women, down inside. I've done some pretty
bad things in my time, in a cause I believed was right. I
know I can do what I have to do."

Now he was curious. "What's that?"

"I can catch her and make her hurt until she tells us
how to get out of here."

"Torture her?" he asked, shocked.

"I told you I wasn't all that nice. If I turned into a
water dragon and went after her, I could chew on her bit
by bit, one leg at a time, and she would—"

Grundy felt sick. "I don't think I like that way. Any-
way, I think she would rather die than tell us, because
she can't die."

She nodded. "You're probably right. But I just thought
I'd mention it. We're not entirely helpless."

"Are all females like you, underneath?" he asked, grimly
intrigued.

"Of course not. Most are relatively innocent, and some
are truly nice creatures, like Rapunzel."

"She is, isn't she?" he agreed with relief.

"But even that kind can go after what she wants. I
remember when I decided that Jordan was the man for
me..." She sighed and shook her head.

"But Rapunzel hasn't met any men yet, except for
Jordan."

"I think she has," Threnody murmured, smiling in that
obscure way women have.

"Oh? Where?"

She laughed. "Never mind. I'm sure everything will
work out, in its fashion." She moved away.

197

Golem in the Gecns

Grundy shook his head, perplexed. Then Rapunzel
rejoined him, and he forgot whatever he had been trying
to be bothered about.

Next day Grundy climbed a tall tree and looked about.
All around were the little islands of palm trees, all of which
he knew had golems looking about, because all were the
same. What a hopeless situation!

Then he spied something else. He squinted at it, trying
to make quite sure it wasn't an illusion. But soon he was
sure! "Centaur ho!" he cried, scrambling down the tree.

In a moment everyone was looking. It was definitely
a centaur forging toward them through the marsh. In due
course Grundy was able to recognize him: "Amolde!"

Indeed it was Arnolde, the only nonhuman creature
ever to have been the human King of Xanth. He sloshed
to the copse and raised a hand in greeting. "I'm glad to
find you well," he said. He was old, and his coat was
turning gray, but he remained reasonably spry. He wore
Mundane spectacles to shore up his declining eyesight.

"But we're trapped!" Grundy exclaimed. "And now
you are, too!"

"Not so," Arnolde said cheerily.

"You don't understand. These are the Ever-Glades.
There is no way out."

"And I'm a Magician," the centaur reminded him. "My
magic can handle this."

"But your magic only works outside of Xanth! It's an
aisle of magic. Here it makes no difference."

"Allow me to explain. I have been experimenting with
reverse-wood."

"We had some of that, but—"
"It reverses the thrust of any magic in its vicinity. Thus,
when I carry it, it causes me to generate a Mundane aisle







Golem in the Gears

198

in Xanth. Now you might not feel this is a useful function;

however—"

Suddenly Grundy caught on. "It's magic that holds us

here in the Glades!" he cried. "If that is nullified—"

"We can get out of here!" Jordan finished.

"That was my supposition," Arnolde agreed. "So if
you are ready to travel with me—"

"But how did you happen to come here?" Grundy asked,
still hardly believing this good fortune.

"My friend Bink suggested that the Ever-Glades might
be the ideal place to test out the Mundane Effect," Arnolde
said. "And I was constrained to agree with him. If I did not
get lost there, I should not get lost anywhere."

"Bink!" Grundy exclaimed. "I should have known! He's
been sending people after me!"

"I'm sure he meant no harm," the centaur said. "His

talent is very special."

"What is his talent? I can't remember."
Arnolde looked thoughtful. "Oh. Well, in that case per-
haps I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"But you did mention it! That guy seems to be crazy
careless and crazy lucky. Does his magic have something

to do with it?"

"I would say that is a fair assessment," the centaur
agreed. And that was all he would say on that subject;

instead he deftly turned the dialogue to the group's own

situation.

They explained about Gnindy's Quest, and the manner

he had rescued Rapunzel from the Ivory Tower, and how
the Sea Hag was following them and trying to get Rapun-
zel to return to her power. "She was giving them some
trouble, when we arrived," Jordan said. "Just in the nick

of time."

Golem in the Gears                 199

"When Bink is involved, such coincidences do occur,"
the centaur said knowingly.

"But now we're stuck in the Ever-Glades," Grundy
concluded. "Or were, until you showed up. Are you sure
your Mundane aisle can get us out?"

"We shall certainly find out," Arnolde said. "Where
are you going from here?"

"To Lake Ogre-Chobee, where the Fauns and Nymphs
are. They're holding Stanley Steamer."

"Very well, we shall go there." The centaur stretched.
"Tomorrow morning, if that is all right with you. I am not
as youthful as I once was, and the day is becoming
advanced."

Of course they agreed. Arnolde joined them in a meal
of cocoa and nuts, and found a comfortable spot to stand
and sleep.

But in the night there was a commotion. The allegory
was on the island, scrambling away from Amolde. "Oh
my gracious!" the centaur exclaimed. "That animal has
absconded with the reverse-wood!"

Grundy knew instantly that that was potential disaster.
Without that wood, Amolde would be trapped with the
rest of them. He leaped onto Snortimer. "We've got to
recover it!" he cried.

The Bed Monster was able to function well in the dark-
ness. He scrambled after the allegory, catching it at the
edge of the copse. Now, by the dim light of what remained
of the moon, Grundy saw that the creature was hauling
the wood along on a string, much as the sphinx had
with the prior wood. But as Snortimer pounced on the
wood, the allegory jumped forward and snatched at it.
The two arrived at the same time, and one of Snortimer's
hands banged into the allegory's long green nose.

"Get the wood! Get the wood!" Grundy cried.

Golem in the Geora

200

Snortimer tried, but as he reached for it, the allegory
snapped at his hand and he had to whip it back out of the
way. The reptile reached for it with its snout, but Snor-
timer made two big hairy fists and punched a one-two

combination on that snout.

Now Jordan arrived. "Back off!" he called. "I'll take

care of that critter!"

That seemed best. But as Snortimer retreated and Jor-
dan advanced, the allegory lunged at the chip of wood
and caught it in its mouth. Before they could act, the
creature swallowed the wood and started to scramble for
the water, where Grundy knew it would be almost impos-
sible to catch it.

But then the reptile stiffened. In a moment it collapsed
and lay still. Jordan, ready to swing at it with his sword,

hesitated.

Grundy realized what had happened. "It's dead," he
said. "It was magically animated by the Hag, and when
it swallowed the wood, it reversed. Now it's magically
unanimated—and so it is dead."

"Well, that solves that problem then," Jordan said. He
chopped down with the sword, cutting the body in half.
Then he fished out the chip of wood and rinsed it in the

nearest water.

For a moment Grundy wondered why the wood didn't
hurt the barbarian, but then realized that Jordan had long-
since healed and was not using his magic talent now. In
effect, he was an ordinary man, and so the wood had no

effect on him.

They had recovered the wood, and that was good. But
now the Hag was a ghost again, and that was bad. Had
they been able to leave her as the allegory, she might not
have been able to pursue them, for it would have been
very difficult for her to kill herself in that form.

Golem in the Gears

201

"I will hold it right in my hand, hereafter!" Arnolde
said as they returned the chip to him. "I had set it beside
me, because the magic frame really is more comfortable
than the Mundane, but I see in retrospect that that was
a miscalculation." And he clamped his hand firmly around
it.

They returned to sleep, though in Grundy's case it was
not the easiest thing to do. But Rapunzel whispered to
him how brave he had been and held his hand, and that
was very pleasant. He almost regretted that they were
about to escape this trap.

In the morning they ate again and started off. Threnody
had changed to golem-size, to Grundy's surprise; sud-
denly there were two women in his range. The three of
them got on the bed, which Jordan had tied to Amolde's
back, and rode along in style. Snortimer was squeezed
under it, since this was day, and Jordan walked along
beside.

"Do your changes in shape and size bother Jordan?"
Rapunzel asked Threnody as they moved out.

"No," the woman said with a laugh. "I'm always the
right size for him, when he wants me to be. We all have
different talents, and each of us can do things the other
can't."

"But you can become much larger than he can,"
Rapunzel persisted. "Doesn't he get afraid, when you're
huge?"

"Never. It's not the size that counts, it's the relation-
ship. I love him. He could slay me with one sweep of his
sword, and I could not recover, but I know he wouldn't,
because he loves me."

"The relationship," Rapunzel agreed. "That makes
everything all right."

Grundy listened without commenting. It might be true




Golem in the Geora

202

that the relationship was more important than the size—
but she had relationships yet to form with her human and/
or elven kinfolk. He knew, if she did not, that no golem
was a part of either society. How he wished it could be

otherwise!

Here in the Mundane aisle, in the light of day, the scene

was strange indeed. The nearest palm tree no longer had
hands and fingers; instead it had funny large green leaves,
each deeply serrated to resemble hundreds of thick blades
of grass. It was singularly uninteresting. When they passed
by a cocoa-nut tree, the big nut was not chocolaty at all,
but a big, crude capsule of fiber that it would have been
impossible to eat. When they stepped into the sea of grass,
however, it was—a sea of grass.

With a difference. This was not a true swamp, but what
seemed to be an imitation swamp set up on a barren sur-
face. It was as if someone had dumped some globs of mud
and splashed some water and set out some tufts of grass,
so that, from a distance, it would look like a real swamp,
and left it there. But a short distance away, beyond the
aisle, the swamp returned in its full force, the grass being
thick and green. It was easy to see where the aisle left
off, because of the poverty of the scenery that commenced

at its edge.

They proceeded to the next copse of trees—and the
terrain changed. The grass fell behind, and ordinary Xanth

vegetation returned.

Arnolde came to a halt. "The Mundane aisle is not kind
to normal things," he said. "I think you will travel more
pleasantly if I leave you now. I believe the camp of the
Fauns is immediately ahead."

Grundy knew he was right. Fauns and Nymphs were
fundamentally magical creatures, and reverse-wood would
not make them comfortable at all. Amolde had done his

Golem in the Gears                 203

job, and they were duly grateful. All of them told him so
emphatically, which embarrassed him. Perhaps the fact
that Rapunzel and Threnody climbed up and kissed his
right and left ears, respectively, had something to do with
it. He was after all a rather self-effacing scholar, not given
to heroism.

Amolde departed, his ears still blushing, to pursue his
further experiments with Mundane-aisle Effects, and the
rest of them went on to the Faun camp.

"I'll carry the bed again," Jordan said. "Just tie it on
my back, same as before."

"But it's day," Grundy protested. "Snortimer needs it."
"Why? He's standing in daylight now okay."
Astonished, they all looked at the Bed Monster. There
he was, in full light, suffering no harm.
"How—?" Grundy asked.

"Amolde gave me a sliver of the reverse-wood," Snor-
timer explained in Bed-Monster tongue. "He thought that
if it reversed all magic, including his, it should reverse
mine. So I tried it."

"That's one smart centaur!" Jordan said.
"We could have done that before," Grundy exclaimed.
"When we had the other reverse-wood! We never thought
of it."

"Because we're not smart centaurs," Threnody said.
So they tied the bed to Jordan's back. Now three of
them rode on Snortimer, but their combined weight was
so slight it didn't matter. Grundy realized that this gave
Threnody the chance to continue resting and healing while
traveling. "You know, this is a nice enough size," she
remarked. "I should use it more often."

"It certainly seems adequate to me," Rapunzel agreed.
Grundy said nothing. He had no choice; this was the
only size he had ever known.




204

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gear*

205

The approach to the Faun & Nymph Retreat was a
single, fairly narrow path that wound about through a
gully that soon became a chasm. Sheer cliffs rose up on
either side, peaking in a jagged mountain range that hadn't
been visible from a distance. It was evident that this path
was the only way anyone could enter the premises. It was
pleasant enough, however, and there were no signs of

danger.

It opened on a truly delightful scene. There was a fine
blue lake beside a lovely little mountain, with a thick green
forest filling in around them both. The whole was enclosed
by the jagged ring of mountains.

In a moment the residents showed up. They appeared
to be as harmless as the scenery: they were dancing Fauns
and Nymphs. The Fauns were roughly human in form,
but with hoofed feet, shaggy legs, and little horns on their
heads. The Nymphs were naked, youthful women, each
prettier than the others. They swung their tresses engag-
ingly about as they danced. "Oh," Rapunzel said, putting
a hand to her shorn hair.

"You are beautiful with or without your hair," Grundy
told her seriously.

"Oh!" she repeated, brightening.

The Fauns and Nymphs swarmed up. From close range,
they appeared to be of several different types, but all were
smiling and friendly. "It's so interesting to see them in
person," Rapunzel said. "Dryads and Dryfauns, Oreads
and Orefauns, Naiads and Naifauns—"

"What, what, and what?" Grundy asked.

"The different species of Nymphs and Fauns," she
explained. "The Drys live in the trees, the Ores in the
mountains, and the Nais in the lake. Each adapts to its

environment—"

But now the residents were crowding around. "What

strange creatures!" they exclaimed. "The one wears a bed
and the others are little folk on a monster!" For the Fauns
and Nymphs were far larger than golems, though not large
by human standards.

"We're looking for a little dragon," Grundy said. "We
understand he's here. His name is Stanley Steamer."

"Stanley!" they exclaimed. "Yes! Yes!"

Now Stanley himself appeared—and Grundy was
amazed. The dragon was no longer little and cute; he had
in the intervening years become a formidable middle-sized
monster. He looked perfectly healthy and happy.

"Stanley!" Grundy called in dragon-talk. "My how
you've grown!"

The dragon whomped up to join them, exhaling cheer-
ful clouds of steam. "But you haven't!" he replied, recog-
nizing Grundy. "And who are those two golem girls?"

"This is Threnody," Grundy said, indicating her.
"You've met her before; she's usually larger. And this is
Rapunzel, Ivy's pun-pal. I rescued her from the Ivory
Tower, on the way to rescuing you."

"Me? I don't need rescuing!" Stanley protested.

"What is he saying?" Jordan asked.

"He says he doesn't need rescuing," Grundy said. He
returned to dragon-talk. "Then why didn't you return to
Ivy?"

Now Stanley looked sad. "I would like to. But I can't."
"Are the Fauns and Nymphs holding you?"
"Not exactly."

"Then you are free to go, aren't you?"
"No."

Grundy turned to the others; "He says they aren't hold-
ing him captive, but he's not free to go."
"That doesn't make sense," Jordan said.
But now the Fauns and Nymphs were swarming over




206 Golem in the Gears

Stanley, hugging him and kissing him and teasing him, and
his attention was distracted; there was no point in trying
to question him further at the moment.

Threnody's eyes narrowed. "I think I begin to get a
glimmer why he isn't eager to leave," she said.

Grundy nodded. "Who would!"

"Oh, you like that sort of treatment?" Rapunzel
inquired.

"Well—"

"I thought maybe you didn't."

"We have to figure out how to get Stanley to go home,"
he said gruffly.

But the more they saw of the Faun & Nymph Retreat,
the less likely their mission seemed to succeed. These
creatures seemed to spend all day in innocent pleasures,
swimming, playing, eating, laughing and chatting merrily.
There was never a cross word, never a scowl; everything
was optimistic. They did not exclude the visitors; Grundy
and his party were welcomed into water, mountain and
trees.

Threnody noted Jordan watching half a dozen green-
haired Dryads playing tag in the spreading branches of a
great old acom tree. The Nymphs screamed shrilly with
joy as they chased one another about, and their arms and
legs flashed prettily, and their bare bosoms heaved, and
their tresses flung about with abandon. "I think I'd better
get back to human-size," she muttered darkly.

Meanwhile a party of Orefauns was scaling the central
mountain, linked together by ropes. There really wasn't
anywhere to go, and there wasn't much challenge, as it
was a very small mountain, but they seemed happy in
their activity. It was as if they had never done this before.
Their hooves were good for this kind of work.

The Naiads and Naifauns were playing water polo,

Golem in the Gears                 207

flinging a ball about, splashing and ducking each other
and having, if possible, an even better time than the
others.

Then there was a stir back at the entrance to the Retreat.
A party of goblins had showed up, armed with spears and
clubs. "Round up the juiciest ones," the goblin chief cried.
"We'll feast tonight."

The nearest Nymphs screamed as they were grabbed.
Stanley's ears perked up. He had settled down under a
tree for a snooze, but now he was alert. He huffed up a
head of steam and whomped toward the goblins.

"Dragon!" the chief cried in terror.

The goblins dropped the struggling Nymphs and fled
back down the path. Stanley whomped after them, toast-
ing their rears with fierce steam. In a moment the goblins
were gone.

The Nymphs returned to their play, seemingly uncon-
cerned about their near escape.

Grundy shook his head. "Now I think I understand
why he can't leave," he said. "These Fauns and Nymphs
are helpless before any predator. They don't know how
to fight. They can't organize. They forget any bad thing
as soon as it is past. If Stanley weren't here, they would
soon be decimated by the goblins and anything else that
came by."

"And if we take him away," Rapunzel said, "it would
be at great cost to them."

"But I promised to bring him back to Castle Roogna,"
Grundy said. "It's my Quest, and I have to fulfill it if I
possibly can."

"Even at such a cost?" she asked.

"I don't know." Indeed, he discovered himself at the
crossroads of the most difficult choice he had yet faced.
He couldn't give up his Quest—yet it would be wrong to




208 Golem in the Gears

deprive this community of its only protection from the
hazards of the region.

Evening was coming, and the Fauns brought down
fruits from the trees and fresh berries from the mountain
and sea biscuits from the water .and formed a feast. The
visitors were invited, of course, and the food was very
good. But Grundy remained pensive, not seeing any proper
course.

As the shadows lengthened, Snortimer scrambled away.
"That shadow!" he cried in Monster-tongue. "It's reaching
for me!"

"But you're a creature of shadow," Grundy reminded
him. "You live in darkness."

"I'm afraid of the dark!"

"Afraid of the dark!" Grundy was astonished. "What's
the matter with you?"

"I don't know," the Bed Monster confessed. "But now
I love the sunshine and can't stand the dark."

"But it's dark under your bed."

"The bed!" Snortimer exclaimed with horror. "Don't
let it get me!"

"What's the matter?" Rapunzel asked.

"Snortimer's afraid of the dark, and doesn't want to
go back under his bed," Grundy said, baffled.

She laughed. "Silly! It's the reverse-wood."

Of course! "Get rid of that sliver of reverse-wood,"
Grundy told the Bed Monster.

Snortimer tossed aside the sliver—and suddenly dived
under the bed. He had reverted to normal, and could no
longer stand the light. One mystery solved.

"Just let me make sure he's all right," Rapunzel said.
She went to the bed, climbed up on it, then changed to
human-size. She dangled her pretty ankles down toward
the ground.

Golem in the Gears                 209

Snortimer grabbed. Rapunzel screamed and yanked
her legs away. "He's all right," she pronounced.

But the Nymphs had noted this action. "Ooo, let me
try!" an Oread exclaimed. She ran to the bed, plumped
down on it, and dangled her legs.

Naturally Snortimer grabbed. "Eeeeek!!" the Nymph
screamed happily, yanking her legs away.

Suddenly they were all doing it. The evening resounded
with their joyous shrieks, squeals and giggles. One Naiad,
being less agile on land, lost her balance when grabbed
and tumbled under the bed. "Eeek!" she screamed. "He's
all hands!" There followed a sound suspiciously like kiss-
ing, and she rolled out and into the water, a broad smile
on her face.

The Bed Monster, it seemed, was a success. But Grundy
looked across to where Stanley lay, supposedly snoozing,
and saw that the dragon looked a trifle greener than usual.
For three years he had been the center of attention; now
there was competition.

Grundy ambled over to the dragon. "Not that this is
relevant," he said in dragon-talk, "but there's a little girl
at Castle Roogna who only has eyes for one dragon."

Stanley sighed steamily. "Actually, I'd like to see Cas-
tle Roogna again. But what would happen to these nice
Fauns and Nymphs?"

To that Grundy had no answer. He returned to the bed,
where the Nymphs were finally tiring of their sport.

"It's getting too dark," one explained. "We have to go
to sleep."

And, shortly, all of the Nymphs and Fauns were sleep-
ing in their various habitats, the boundless energy of their
day becoming the easy repose of their night. Stanley posi-
tioned himself across the entrance path so that he could
intercept any intruders, and slept himself.




210 Golem in the Gears

Jordan and Threnody settled down under an acorn tree.
She was changing back to human-size; at the moment she
was in the diffuse, ghostlike stage, having increased her
size but not yet her mass; in another hour she would be
solid again.

That left the bed for Grundy and Rapunzel. She had
shifted back to golem-size. Her changes were instant,
unlike Threnody's, but she had no other forms. There
generally did seem to be a tradeoff, in magic; few people
had it all, and those were Magicians or Sorceresses. Little
Dolph could change instantly to any form, and therefore
he was a Magician, destined to be King of Xanth if Ivy
didn't want it.

"Hey, Grundy," Snortimer called from under the bed.

"Here," Grundy said.

"You know, we've found your dragon, but we haven't
found romance for me. That was part of the deal, you
know."

Grundy looked at Rapunzel, stricken. What could he
say?

"Is he asking what I think he's asking?" Rapunzel asked.

"Yes. And I don't know what to tell him."

"Why, tell him the truth," she said. "He deserves to
know, you know."

"But—"

Rapunzel said it for him. "Snortimer, it grieves me to
tell you this, but there are no females of your species."

"I suspected that," the Bed Monster muttered, and
Grundy translated. Snortimer could understand human-
talk, as many monsters could, though he couldn't speak
it.

"But I'm sure your life can be worthwhile," Rapunzel
said. "Those Nymphs seemed to like you very well."

Golem in the Gears                 211

"But I can't stay here," Snortimer replied glumly. "It's
Stanley's territory."

And so there was a dragon who would return to Castle
Roogna, but could not, and a Bed Monster who would
remain here, but could not. Xanth was full of ironies.

"Somehow, there's an answer for everything," Rapun-
zel said consolingly. "I just know it."

She was somewhat nymphlike in her positive attitude.
Grundy wished he could share it, but he could not. Being
on a Quest was not as simple as he had imagined.

Then Rapunzel took his hand again, and almost he was
able to believe that things were better than they were.

Chapter 14. A Bonnet of Bees

In the morning the Fauns and Nymphs roused,
and flocked to see the visitors, just as if they didn't
remember them. Stanley whomped over. "Every day is
new for them," he explained in dragon-talk. "They don't
remember overnight. That's why the goblins and ogres
and things can raid; the Fauns and Nymphs never leam
and take no precautions."

"They really need protection," Grundy agreed, per-
ceiving the larger picture. Of course it wouldn't be right
to deprive the community of its only protection. But how

could he return to Castle Roogna with his Quest unful-
filled?




213 Golem in the Gears

The Nymphs rediscovered the Bed Monster, and
shrieked with delight as Snortimer grabbed at their attrac-
tive ankles. Stanley turned a darker shade of green, but
made no comment. The Fauns fetched in the morning
feast of fruits and biscuits. Everyone was happy—except
the visitors, who were cursed with memories longer than
a day.

"If there is no solution," Rapunzel murmured, "maybe
this would be a good place to stay."

"No!" Grundy said. "I have a Quest to fulfill, and you
need to be restored to your own kind, whichever that is.
There has to be a way."

"Of course," she said, somewhat sadly.

But in midmoming things abruptly changed.

There was an ominous humming from the entrance-
trail. Soon it manifested as a swarm of B's, and by the   (
sound of it, they meant no good.                       [

They were huge B's, similar to bees but larger and   I
more magical. Each was a quarter the size of Grundy,
and they had horrendous stingers. They spread out and
dive-bombed the hapless Fauns and Nymphs. The attacked
creatures screamed—then acted very strangely. One
insisted on running out in front of all the others and staying
there no matter what; another went to the rear of the
group and would not be budged. A third started peering
about, looking and looking as if he could not see enough.
Another cried, "I have seen the light!" over and over.
Another got down on the ground and tried to tunnel into
it. All of them were doing such peculiar things that the
others could not figure it out—until getting stung them-
selves and taking off on their own peculiarities.

Jordan glared about, sword in hand, but this wasn't
much good against the B's. "What does it mean?" Thren-
ody asked.

Golem in the Gears                 213

"I think those are B's from a Have," Rapunzel said.
"I have learned about them, but never seen them until
this moment."

"A B-hive?" Grundy asked. "But all B's live in hives!"
"A B-Have," she said. "That's a very special kind.
When they sting, the victim be-haves in the manner dic-
tated by the sting. It looks to me as if there are several
types of B's here—a B-fore, a B-hind, a B-lieve, a B-
neath, a B-hold—"

"Oh!" Grundy exclaimed. "The one who's trying to go
before everyone, and the one going behind, and the one
who sees the light, and the one trying to get down
beneath—"

"And the one looking all about," Threnody put in.
"That's the one stung by the B-hold!"

"And I see a B-seech, a B-side, a B-stir, a B-reave—"
Jordan added.

"And a B-siege, a B-set, a B-tween—" Grundy added.
"And a number of B-wilders and B-wails," Rapunzel

concluded. "But why are they attacking the innocent folk?"
But now one of the insects was making a B-line for

Grundy. "Have you had enough, golem?" it buzzed in B-

talk.

"The Sea Hag!" he cried, catching on.

"Oh, no!" Rapunzel exclaimed in maidenly dismay.
"She's still after me!"

"You can't have her. Hag!" Grundy cried.
"I am not the Queen B," the B buzzed. "I am merely
her messenger. She says the Fauns and Nymphs will suf-
fer excruciatingly until the girl is returned to her."
"What's she saying?" Rapunzel asked, distraught.
"This is only a messenger with an ultimatum," Grundy
said. "The Hag wants the usual. It seems she has taken
over the Queen B, so these B's obey her."




214 Golem in the Gears

"And they're going to harass the innocent creatures
until she gets her way," Threnody said. "I know how she
thinks. We've got to nullify her."

"This is my job," Grundy said. "I'll go to the B-Have
and settle with her once and for all."

"We'll all go," Jordan said, touching his sword.

"You men are so headstrong and foolish," Threnody
said. "If everyone goes, the B's will simply swarm in and
sting us, and we'll spend all our time in weird activity and
never get there. No, this has to be a covert operation,
accomplished while most of the swarm is away from the
Have. Probably Grundy could do it alone, if he could
sneak away—"

"No! It's too dangerous!" Rapunzel cried.

"It's too dangerous not to try it!" Grundy said grimly.
"Snortimer, can you get me out of here without being
spotted by the B's?"

Snortimer didn't answer. It was day, and he was hud-
dled under the bed.

Grundy went and got the loose sliver of reverse-wood.   I
He tossed it under the bed. The Bed Monster caught it
automatically—and came sailing out, suddenly afraid of
the shadows. "I can do it!" he cried.

"Good enough!" Grundy mounted. "Keep them dis-
tracted," he called to the others.

"But you'll have to do it by nightfall," Threnody called
back. "Because then they'll return to their Have any-
way—"

"By nightfall," he agreed. Then he hung on, as Snor-
timer scurried for the ring of mountains.

They climbed the rough-hewn slope, Snortimer's hands
readily grasping the crevices. Because they were off the
path, the B's did not spot them. They circled around until

Golem in the Gears                 215

they could intersect the path out of sight of the swarm,
then proceeded rapidly along it.

As they left the Retreat, Grundy began calling to the
surrounding vegetation. "Where is the B-Have?"

"South," the vegetation agreed.

They bore south through increasingly rough terrain,
dodged around a tangle tree, and came into sight of it: a
huge hive in the shape of a lady's bonnet, hanging from
a big branch. They stopped short, for a number of guard-
ian B's buzzed around it. "I'll have trouble getting at the
B in that bonnet," Grundy muttered.

"I could climb up the tree and rip it down," Snortimer
suggested.

"And get hopelessly stung," Grundy retorted. "That's
no good. I need to sneak in, seal it off, and then go after
the Queen. I can fit inside; you can't."
"It's dangerous," Snortimer reminded him.
"Set me on the branch," Grundy said. "Then when I
sneak in, you leap up and jam something in the entrance.
Then get out of there before the B's catch you."

"You fools," another voice said. "That'll never work."
Grundy looked around. There was a tremendous spi-
der, with a circular web that spanned from tree to ground.
"You know these B's?" Grundy asked in spider-talk.
"I feed on them," the spider said. "But they're getting
pretty canny, and now they avoid my web no matter how
carefully I conceal it."

"Then how do you figure you know so well how to
handle them?" Grundy demanded.

"I didn't say I knew how to handle them," the spider
said. "I just know what won't work."

"That's not much help," Grundy said sourly.

"Why should I help you, anyway?"

"Because I could make it worth your while."




216                 Golem in the Gears

"How?"

"I could call some B's here, so you would have a sea-
son's feast."

The spider's mandibles watered. "Ah, maybe I could

help you..."
"How?"
"I could give you some silk to let yourself down to the

entrance to the B-Have."

Grundy considered. "Not worth it. I'd just get stung

when I got there."

"I could give you a web-net to put across the entrance,
so that you could prevent any B's from passing in and
out; they can't handle that stuff. It tangles up their wings."

Grundy wavered. "So that once I got in, I could seal
it off behind me. That does sound good. But I'd still have
to deal with the ones remaining inside."

"I can give you another web-net, that you could sling
over a B, incapacitating it long enough for you to stab it
with your sword."

"Done!" Grundy cried.

And it was done. The spider made him a line, an
entrance-cover web, and a throw-net. In return, he posi-
tioned himself behind the big web and sounded off in B-

talk:

"Help! I'm a succulent flower just bursting with pollen,

and I haven't seen a B in just ages'."

Immediately several B's buzzed at him—and were
caught in the web. In a moment the spider had caught
them and trussed them up.

Grundy realized that this could be a good thing for
him, too. The more B's the spider caught, the fewer would

remain to attack him.

But not all the B's around the bonnet had charged in.

Golem in the Gears                 217

The ones remaining seemed to be the warriors, who didn't
fetch nectar from flowers. How could he lure them in?

Grundy smiled. His usual weapon was his best. "Hey,
you horses' B-hinds!" he yelled. "You couldn't hurt an
intruder if your hides depended on it!"

That aroused several. They buzzed angrily at him—
and were trapped by the spider.

He tried again. "I think your stingers are dull! You're
nothing but useless drones!"

That roused several more. But two or three remained,
too dull or too canny to respond.

Grundy had a flashbulb of an idea. "Help: I'm in trou-
ble!" he screamed in the voice of a Queen B.

That got them. Without pausing to reason why, they
zoomed to him—and were caught.

"That seems to be all that are presently available; are
you satisfied?" he asked the spider.

"Definitely," the spider agreed, selecting a succulent
B to suck dry. Grundy turned away; he really didn't enjoy
watching the way a spider fed.

Now Snortimer carried him up the tree and to the branch
above the nest. "If I don't come out before the swarm
returns, get out of here," Grundy told the Bed Monster.
"Go back to the others and tell them they'll have to get
along without me."

"You're brave," Snortimer said.

Grundy laughed. "Brave? I'm terrified!" Then he let
himself down on the silken line, and swung to the entrance
to the bonnet. After a couple of tries he was able to catch
on to the rim and scramble in. It was a tight squeeze, for
he was larger than the average B, but that made it easier
for him to wedge himself in without falling.

Inside, he took out the first net and carefully applied
it to the rim of the hole. The webbing was light but very




218 Golem in the Gears

strong, and sticky at the edge; the spider had told him
how to use it, and though he was clumsy, not having as
many legs as a spider did, the web fastened very firmly.
No B would readily pass in or out of this!

Now came the bad part. He knew there were other B's
inside; he could hear them humming as they worked. He
held his pin-sword in one hand, and his web-net in the
other, and worked his way upward.

The bonnet, inside, was constructed of many thick
layers of cardboard, arranged in rings. Several passages
opened out to the sides, slanting upward. He had thought
the bonnet would be dark inside, but it was not; the B's
had set small glowing fungi at the intersections. That made
it easier for him to travel, but also made him more visible.
Well, they could probably tell he was here by the smell,
anyway, once they were alerted. So far the B's seemed
to be minding their own B's wax, fortunately.

This was a huge, three-dimensional labyrinth, seeming
much larger from the inside than it had from outside.
Perhaps the B's B-witched the bonnet to make its inner
dimensions magically greater. But there was no inten-
tional confusion; the passages were straightforward, and
it was easy enough to proceed directly toward the center.

Up to a point. When he reached what he presumed to
be the central chamber, where the Queen B should be,
the passage was blocked by the sturdy gray cardboard
building material. This was evidently a restricted area.

He tried to poke a hole in it, to push through, but it
was surprisingly tough stuff; his pin could poke into it,
but only with such difficulty that it wasn't worth the effort.
He needed a fast way in.

So he took a side passage. This was easier at first,
because it was level, but he had to walk hunched over.
The diameter of it was too small for his comfort, and he

Golem in the Gears                 219

didn't know where it was leading. He kept his pin and
net ready.

In due course the passage debouched into an impres-
sive chamber. There were hundreds of cells, hexagonal
in cross section, each filled with amber substance and
sealed with translucent wax. This was evidently the
honeycomb—the food storage depot of the Have. Grundy
liked honey, but he wasn't hungry for this right now. He
just wanted to get his job done and get out of here before
the swarm returned. He didn't know how much time he
had; the controlled lighting made this place seem timeless.

A worker-B was at one of the hex chambers. It spied
Grundy. "Hey—you're not supposed to B here!" it buzzed
in B-talk, alarmed.

"I'm the honey inspector," Grundy said, hoping to keep
things quiet.

"I'm going to fetch the supe b-fore I get in trouble!"
the B buzzed, scrambling toward an exit.

Grundy ran after it, stabbing with his pin. He hated to
do it, but he couldn't afford to have the supe on his case!
But the B scrambled out just ahead of him, getting away.

In moments several B's buzzed in. One was evidently
the supe-B. "That's no inspector, that's an intruder," it
buzzed. "Sting it!"

Three B's charged him. Grundy backed up against the '
wall of hex-chambers, pin and net ready. But more B's
were entering the chamber, and he knew he would soon
be overwhelmed.

Then he had another lightbulb notion. He reversed his
pin and stabbed into one of the wax seals behind him.
The point penetrated and stuck; he wrenched it out side-
ways, and the whole wax cap pulled off with a slurpy
sucking sound. The thick honey oozed out.

"Save that honey!" the supe buzzed, horrified.




220

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

221

The nearest worker batted its faceted eyes. "I didn't
know you cared, Supe."

"That honey, stingerface!" The supe buzzed angrily,
pointing two legs at it. The worker, chastened, got to

work.

Grundy moved over and wedged out another cap and
then a third. When a worker charged him, he put away
his pin for a moment and used his hand to scoop out a
glob of honey. He hurled it at the B. It didn't hurl very
well, but a good part of it got on the B's wing, and got
the creature in serious trouble. It forgot him in its effort
to get the gooey stuff off and back into the leaking cham-
ber.

Soon Grundy was able to leave the honey-pot chamber

unmolested.

But he still hadn't found a way in to the central cavity.
Instead he came to a quiet, dim chamber lined with cells
that did not hold honey. He peered closely at one—and
discovered that there was a monstrous grub in it. A devel-
oping B! This was the nursery.

A nurse-B was approaching. Grundy didn't have the
heart to wreak mayhem here, so he hastily exited by the
nearest side passage. This took him on around the Have
and upward. In due course he came to a new, smaller
chamber that had cardboard tapestries on the walls.

A young and astonishingly pretty female B angled her
antennae at him as he entered. "Well now, a visitor," she
buzzed dulcetly.

"Uh, yes," Grundy said, uncertain what was going on
here. "I'm, uh, looking for the Queen."

"Oh, really," she buzzed. "I didn't think you were the
type. You look more like a golem than a drone."

"I am a golem," he confessed, surprised by the way
she accepted him. She was much larger than the worker-

B's, and could have caused him some alarm if she had
attacked, but she seemed quite friendly. "And you—"

"I am Princess B-Nign," she buzzed. "Soon I will take
my maiden flight and mate with the worthiest drone, and
then start my own bonnet."

"B-nine?" he asked, mishearing her buzz. "There are
eight others?"

"Of course not," she buzzed cheerfully. "I was one of
the first two out of incubation, so I fought and killed the
other, B-Twelve, despite all the vitamins she had taken,
and then cut off the heads of all the remaining prospects,
B-One through B-Twenty. There are no other Princess
B's but me, now. Isn't it romantic?"

"But you seem like such a nice creature!" Grundy
blurted.

"I am a nice creature," she buzzed. "I simply did what
had to be done. A Have cannot support two Queens."

"Well, the Queen for this Have has been taken over
by an evil mind," he told her. "I have come here to capture
her and take her away."

"That so?" she buzzed, interested. "I thought she was
acting peculiar recently. Sending almost the whole swarm
out to bother the Fauns—we've always been at peace
with the Fauns before. But when the Queen commands,
all obey."

A new notion surfaced. "Suppose I took the Queen
away—what would happen to this Have?"

"Why, I would have to take it over, of course. That
wouldn't bother me; it's always better to start with a
well-established situation if one can. I'm not truly looking
forward to starting my own; I understand there are all
manner of dangers out there, such as birds and insecti-
vores and pitcher plants."

"There are," Grundy agreed.




Golem in the Gears

222

She wiggled her fair antennae at him. "Do you sup-
pose—"

"If you'll just tell me how to get into the Queen's cham-
ber, I'll do my best to take her out. I won't kill her."

"You won't?" she buzzed, disappointed.

"If I did that, her spirit would simply take over another

creature, probably you."

"Mercy is best," she agreed. "But you won't let her

go?"

"Never," he agreed.

"Take the third passage to your right," she said, indi-
cating a tunnel.

Grundy headed along the tunnel. He passed straight
through the first intersection, and the second, and turned
right at the third. This led directly into the huge central

chamber.

He entered, and dropped to the curving floor, his pin

and net ready.

There was the Queen B. She was enormous, massing
as much as Grundy, and she had big sturdy claws and a
phenomenal stinger. "So you have come, Golem," she

buzzed.

"I had to come," he agreed, trying to choke back the

fear that welled up in him. How could he overcome this

ferocious creature?

"And now I shall finally be rid of you," she buzzed.

She stood, stretched her wings, and moved slowly toward
him. "Do you know what I shall do to you?"

"I don't think I care to," Grundy said, watching her
warily, trying to figure out her most likely mode of attack.

"I will sting you just hard enough to render you helpless
but alive and conscious," she said, seeming to relish her
own words. "Then I will use your flesh to feed my new

Golem in the Gears                 223

crop of warriors. It will give them a healthy taste for
blood."

Grundy quailed. That was just as bad as having one's
mind taken over by the Hag! "But first you have to score
on me," he said with whatever poor facade of bravery it
was possible to manage.

"And after that, I'll have all your stupid friends stung
into submission too," the Queen Hag continued, stalking
him. "Until at last Rapunzel is ready to do anything to
spare them further humiliation and agony. Anything at
all!"

"You are the baggiest Hag I've ever met," he told her,
trying to judge whether he could catch her in the web-
net with a single heave. She was so big!

"And after I have her young and tender body, naturally
I'll put it through its paces," she continued. "That bar-
barian's a fairly handsome lout; maybe before I have him
dispatched, I'll—"

The thought ofRapunzel's body being used in that way
so upset Grundy that he lunged at the B. This was what
she had wanted; she buzzed straight up out of his way,
so that he stumbled and lost his balance, expecting a
resistance that he did not encounter.

Before he recovered, she dive-bombed him from behind.
He heard her coming and threw himself flat, so that she
zoomed over him. It was a close call; the blast from her
wings struck all about him. He rolled over, sat up—and
saw her coming at him again.

He hurled up the web-net, but it missed, blown away
by that same wing-blast. He had to roll desperately aside
to avoid her aerial charge, and the tip of a wing struck
him as she passed. The wings looked gossamer-thin, but
that was one smart rap!

He scrambled to his feet before she could reorient. He

224                 Golem in the Gears

retained the pin, but he had lost the net. That was half of
a disaster, for though he might be able to kill her, he could
not capture her. If he killed her to protect himself, that
would only free her spirit to take another form—and he

didn't want that!

The Hag gave him no time to consider. She looped
about and came at him again. This time she moved slowly,
almost hovering in place, watching for her opportunity.
He held the pin, ready to stab her, knowing that that was
no answer. She had maneuvered him into a position of
kill or be killed, which was exactly what he didn't want.

Suddenly she moved. Automatically, he stabbed with
the pin—and missed, for she veered away. It had been a
feint. But she spun about and came back at him before
he could recover, much more swiftly than she had before,
and buffeted his sword arm. The pin was knocked away

as he stumbled forward.

He turned to face her, but she was already on him,

clutching him with her rough B legs, bearing him down
under her weight and the thrust other wings. He fell back,
and clunked his head on the floor. It wasn't a hard floor,
but he felt dizzy for a moment, unable to resist effectively.

"Now I've got you, Golem!" she buzzed. "I'm going
to sting you into submission, not enough to kill you, just
enough to paralyze you." And she maneuvered to bring
her big sharp stinger into position.

"But you'll die if you sting me!" he protested.

"No I won't, Golem. There are B's and B's, and this
kind stings with impunity. Now let me see; I want the
flesh to be properly tender, so I think I'll sting you in the
stomach. Brace yourself; this will hurt, and keep on hurt-
ing, as you swell up like a balloon. What joy!"

The terrible stinger was descending toward him, and
he could neither throw her off nor roll out of the way;

Golem in the Gears                 225

she held him too firmly, braced by her own buzzing wings.
He reached wildly for the pin, but couldn't find it; it had
probably rolled well clear. All his questing hand found
was a loose length of line.

Line? That was the end of the net!

The stinger touched his clothing, as she maneuvered
to sting him just the right amount—a more delicate matter
than merely stinging to death. Now or never!

Grundy lifted his arm and flung the net up. It lifted,
spread, and settled down over the B's wings. It clung to
them stickily, for this was what it had been crafted to
do—to be neutral to inanimate substance, but to catch
wings firmly.

"Yeeech!" the B-Hag buzzed, jumping up and trying
to free herself. But Grundy pulled on the line, and the net
settled more firmly about her. A B with its wings entan-
gled was a B largely helpless, as the spider had shown.
Now he had her!

It was a struggle, for she was very strong, and tried to
catch him with her stinger, but he continued hauling the
net about, getting her snugly wrapped. He recovered his
pin-sword and tucked it back through his belt. Then he
hauled on his line, sliding her along. All was secure.

But the exit from this chamber was above, and he was
sure he would not be able to haul her body up there. She
was sure, too: "You haven't got me yet, Golem; the
moment my swarm returns, you'll be stingbait!"

Surely true! What was he to do?

"And I hear them coming now, Golem!" she buzzed.

True again; he could hear the muted distant hum.

Then he figured it out. "Princess B-Nign!" he called.
"I've got her! But I need an exit!"

There was a buzz at the hole. "Why so you do," B-
Nign agreed.




226

Golem in the Gear*

Golem in the Gears

227

"Sting this miscreant!" the Queen B buzzed imperi-
ously.

"I can't do that," B-Nign replied.

"What? How dare you! Why can't you do that?"

"Because a Queen can't take orders; she can only give

them."

"But I am the Queen!"

"You were the Queen. Now / am the Queen." And B-
Nign flew down to the bottom of the chamber, landed,
braced herself, and used her sharp B claws to cut open
the sealed main entrance. Soon the hole opened up.

"Thank you, your Majesty," Grundy said, and shoved
the deposed Queen into the hole. She fell straight down
to the net covering the bottom of the Have.

Grundy followed, more carefully. But as he reached
the main entrance, the hum of the returning swarm loomed
loud. It was coming into sight! Feverishly he yanked away
the net-supports, so that the Hag-B could drop to the

ground below.

"Swarm!" the bundled Queen Hag buzzed. "Sting that

golem! Kill the usurper Queen!"

B-Nign appeared at the entrance. "Ignore that trash,"

she buzzed. "/ am your Queen now."

Grundy hung by the edge of the hole, not daring to
drop that distance, while the swarm approached. Which

Queen would they obey?

Snortimer scrambled out below. "Drop: I'll catch you!"

he cried.

Grundy dropped. The Bed Monster caught him. "Get

me and that bundle out of here in a hurry!" Grundy cried.
Snortimer set Grundy on his back, picked up the bun-
dle by the line, and scrambled away just as the swarm

arrived.

"Help! Help!" the Queen Hag buzzed. But B-Nign was

buzzing louder, and, after a moment's hesitation, the swarm
oriented on her. Grundy had won this round!

The Queen buzzed again, more stridently: "B-Foul! B-
Wilder! B-Devil! Here to me, my loyal minions!"

Three B's, summoned by name, hesitated; then they
broke from the swarm and flew toward the Queen.

"You go to her?" B-Nign buzzed, imperiously enraged.
"Then you are banished from this Have, miscreants! If
you or she ever show your antennae in these parts again,
you will be executed! I have buzzed!"

Grundy could tell by the way the three hesitated in
flight that the sentence bothered them; it was terrible to
be banished from the Have. Obviously she could make it
stick, because the rest of the swarm stayed with her.
These three and the Hag were through here.

But now they had nothing to lose. "Vengeance!" the
Hag buzzed. "Sting this golem! Free me!"

"Get out of here. Snort!" Grundy cried. The Bed Mon-
ster accelerated, scrambling for the path to the Retreat.
In moments they were well away from the bonnet.

But the three grim minions of the Hag pursued them.
Snortimer plunged through the thickest brush, to hide
from them and confuse them, and this was working—but
there was a snag. Abruptly he veered away from the deep-
est, most shadowed region.

"What's the matter. Snort?" Grundy cried, seeing the
three B's hovering overhead, looking for them.

"I'm afraid of the dark!" the Bed Monster said.

"Oh, that. Of course. Just give me the reverse-wood."

Snortimer handed it up to him. It was no more than a
splinter, but its potency remained.

But this pause gave the Hag her chance. She buzzed
loudly, evidently calling again to her three loyal B's.

One of them heard her and zoomed in to the target.




228

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

229

Snortimer dived under the brush and dodged to the side,
and the B had to veer off. But every time they passed
through a clearing, the Hag buzzed again, and the B re-
oriented. As they emerged to the regular path, the B could
no longer be denied. It zoomed in, closed its wings, and
shot at Grundy so swiftly that he knew the only way he
could avoid getting stung was to jump off Snortimer's
back—in which case Snortimer would be the one stung,
and B-Foul would have time to free the Hag before Grundy
could catch up. So Grundy didn't jump; he braced himself
and took the terrible sting.

The B caught him on the right arm. It hurt, but only
for a moment. Then the B was gone, its sting expended,
and Grundy shook himself—and discovered he was
unharmed. In fact, the dirt and grime and bits of spider-
web that adhered to him fell away, leaving him amazingly
clean. What had happened?

But he had no time to ponder that, for the Hag buzzed
again, and a second minion heard her and oriented on
them. Snortimer, now on the clear path, doubled his effort
and charged into the gloom of dusk. But, fast as he was,
the B was faster. Slowly it gained, and as they shot through
the gap in the ring of mountains, it caught up. Again
Grundy had to remain and take the sting, rather than jump
clear. Again he was tagged on an arm, painfully. Then the
B left and Grundy took stock of himself again.

He seemed to be all right. In fact, he now seemed,
despite the fatigue of his effort, to be marvelously clear-
headed. There was no longer any confusion about his

situation.

"Rapunzel!" he exclaimed. "She's a crossbreed, who
has been raised alone. She can relate properly to neither
the human nor the elven culture. I am doing her no favor
by requiring her to make a choice between them. There

is only one creature who can truly appreciate her nature,
as the only creature of her kind—the one who is the only
one of his kind!"

The Hag buzzed again. Now the third and final B heard
her and responded. It zoomed in.

"Hurry, Snort!" Grundy cried. "We're almost there!"
But the Bed Monster continued as if he hadn't heard
Grundy, and the B gained on them.

"Try dodging!" Grundy advised. But again his friend
ignored him.

Now they burst into the Retreat. There were the Fauns
and Nymphs, and Jordan and Threnody, with little Rapun-
zel perched on her shoulder, golem-style. Rapunzel smiled
and clapped her hands. "XXXXX!" she exclaimed.

"What?" Grundy asked.

"YYY YYY YYYYYYY YYYY," Jordan explained.

Now the final B came down, so swiftly that there was
no stopping it. It was aiming for Snortimer, evidently
thinking that if it took out Grundy's steed, Grundy would
be helpless.

Grundy leaped toward it at the last moment, inter-
cepting the terrible sting. He was caught in the shoulder
and spun about, and again it hurt. He fell to the ground,
and the sliver of reverse-wood fell from his hand. The B
flew unsteadily away.

Rapunzel was down on the ground and running toward
him. "Oh, Grundy!" she cried. "Are you hurt? That was
the bravest thing I ever saw!"

She was making sense, now! And abruptly he realized
why: he had let go of the reverse-wood. That had been
reversing his talent, so that instead of speaking and under-
standing all languages, he had spoken and understood
none. No wonder Snortimer hadn't responded—Grundy
had been spouting gibberish.




230                 Golem in the Gears

"Oh, Grundy, you're an angel!" Rapunzel exclaimed.

"You even have a halo!"

Grundy glanced up, startled. There was a little circlet

of light floating just above him.

Then his clear mind provided the answer. That last B
that had stung him must have been B-Devil—but the
reverse-wood had reversed the effect of the sting, making
him angelic instead of devilish. The-effect would only last
a few minutes or hours, depending on the intensity of the

sting.

And the prior B must have been B-Wilder, whose sting,

reversed, gave him this uncommon clarity of mind. And
the first sting must have been by B-Foul, the reverse effect
making him uncommonly clean.

He had been brave, perhaps—but he had also been

very lucky!

Now, while his mind was clear, he needed to act.

"Rapunzel, I love you," he said.

"Why of course you do," she agreed, kissing him. "I
thought you'd never realize!"

"Well, I—"

He broke off, for in their brief distraction the Queen
Hag had finally worked her way out of the web-net. Now
she buzzed up, hovering nearby.

"So, Golem!" she said in B-talk. "You thought to neu-
tralize me, did you? Well, know that my sting is now set
on max, instantly fatal to the victim."

Grundy experienced another cold wash of fear.
"Instantly fatal," he echoed in human-talk.

"And do you know what I'm going to do, wretched

Golem?"

"I know," Grundy agreed, pushing Rapunzel aside so

that there would be no danger of her getting stung too.
"I'm going to sting you to death," she buzzed anyway.

Golem in the Gears                 231

"Then I'm going to sting your wretched friends. When
Rapunzel sees them all die, and knows she is alone for-
ever, she will be too distraught to oppose me any longer.
Then I will take over her body immediately and use it as
brutally as I can imagine. What do you think of that,
Golem?"

Grundy drew his pin-sword. "You'll have to kill me,
Hag, for I will never let you have Rapunzel while I live."

She buzzed so hard with laughter she wobbled in place.
"You think to oppose me with that, Golem? Even if you
managed to kill me as I kill you, it would make no dif-
ference, because I'll simply come back in another form.
Even if you should kill me without getting stung, you'll
still lose in the end. I have defeated you, Golem!"

Then she charged in. Grundy stood to take the assault,
having no other choice, though he knew he had no chance.

Suddenly a huge hand swept between them. It caught
the B and swept it away.

It was Rapunzel, in giant-form. She held the B in her
hand. "I've got you. Hag!" she cried. "Sting me if you
dare! Then you'll have nothing!"

The B buzzed angrily in her closed hand, but did not
sting—because indeed that would be pointless. The one
body the Hag couldn't afford to kill was Rapunzel's.

"And I wouldn't need to kill you," Rapunzel continued,
"even if I could. Because you have no further power over
me. Hag. I know you for what you are, and you will never
have my body, for I will never consent, no matter what
other mischief you do. If you deprive me of my friends,
I'll simply kill myself." Then she opened her hand and
let the B fly out, unharmed. "Now why don't you call my
bluff?" she challenged.

The B hesitated, then flew toward the take. It dived




232                Golem in the Geare

in, and a fish leaped up to swallow it. Rapunzel had finally
faced down the Sea Hag, and was effectively free of her.
Rapunzel changed back to golem-size. Grundy went
up and took her in his arms. "And you were calling what

/ did brave!" he told her.

"Well, she was attacking you," she said.
"Is she alive or dead, now?" Jordan asked.
"Probably dead, for the moment," Grundy said. "But
her ghost will take over another body. Now I think she'll
leave us alone, because she knows there is no way she'll

take Rapunzel alive."

"So all you have left to worry about is your
Quest," Threnody said. "And though I hate to say it, I fear

that—"

There was a roar from the entrance to the Retreat. The

remaining Fauns and Nymphs screamed and scattered

into the dusk.

It was a giant, tiger-headed man. "Aha!" the tigerhead

growled in tigerhead-tongue. "Delicious, juicy prey! I'll
massacre them all!" He strode forward confidently.

But as he passed the bed, a big hairy hand shot out
and grabbed his ankle. There was a horrendous roar.

The tigerhead was so startled he leaped high into the

air, then turned tail and fled.

The Nymphs rushed back to the bed. "Snortimer saved
us," they cried, dangling their fair legs down and laughing

as he grabbed. "He's a hero!"

Stanley Steamer, who had just roused himself, ready

to fight the intruder, made a low growl of disgust.

"Unless—" Jordan said.

Grundy jumped at the notion. He hurried over to the
bed. "Snort, how would you like to stay here and protect
the Fauns and Nymphs from molestation?" he asked.
"With that sliver of reverse-wood, you could operate by

Golem in the Geon                233

day or night and at other times you could just, uh, grab
at pretty legs. I think that might be pretty, uh, romantic."

"Romance!" Snortimer agreed blissfully. "I have found
it at last!"

Grundy turned to Stanley. "Which means that you can
finally return to Castle Roogna and make Ivy happy,
knowing the Fauns and Nymphs are safe."

Stanley brightened. He liked that notion.

"We'll go together, the three of us," Rapunzel said.
"Now I think it won't bother me to meet the human com-
munity there."

Chapter 15. Elf Quest

They had declared their love, but Grundy's doubts
returned as his mind reverted to normal. Rapunzel thought
she loved him—but she still hadn't been exposed to the
elven or human cultures. Was it fair to have her make her
decision on the basis of ignorance?

They were traveling on Stanley's back toward Castle
Roogna, charting a course between Parnassus and Lake
Ogre-Chobee, hoping to avoid the hazards of either region.
It was not easy to hold on as the dragon whomped along,
but they were doing it by using vines looped about Stan-
ley's body. Perhaps this jogging about caused some of
Grundy's doubts to fly loose, for Rapunzel picked them
up. "You're thinking again!" she accused him.




234

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Golem in the Gears

235

"Well, suppose we get married, and then you discover
it's a mistake?" he asked. "That you really belong in the
elven society, for example, with an elven male?"

"It's not a mistake!" she insisted.

"But you have no direct experience with the elves!
How can you be sure?"

She pondered. "Well, why don't we stop at an Elf Elm,
then, and see? That should satisfy you."

She assumed that she would not be moved by the elves.
He was not at all so sure. But her suggestion was good.
If she was going to go to the elves, this was the time to
find out. It was already too late for him, for his heart was
lost, but perhaps not too late for her. He loved her and
wanted her to be happy—in whatever way was best for
her. "Yes. I will ask about."

He did so. The local trees did not know of any nearby
Elf Elms. Grundy was half-relieved. Suppose there were
no elves along their route? Then—No. He could not afford
to take Rapunzel by default. She had to meet the elves
and decide for herself and then meet the human com-
munity and decide again. Only then would it be all right.

They camped for the night, and foraged for food and
drink. They had no fear of predators, because Stanley
was now a fairly formidable dragon. Hardly anyone both-
ered a dragon; those foolish enough to try had been culled
out of the realm of the living in the course of many cen-
turies. They made a nest of pillows to sleep on, and Stan-
ley formed a circle around them, nose to tail, gently
steaming. They were safe enough.

Rapunzel took his hand, as she always did. "I know
you're trying to do the right thing, Grundy," she said.

"Trying," he agreed.

"I understand that men are mostly logical, and women
are mostly feeling."

"I suppose."

"I've got the feeling this is a mistake."

"But you were the one who suggested that—"

"Now I've had time to change my mind."

"Change your—?"

"That's easier to do, now that my hair is short."

Grundy suspected that would not make an awful lot of
sense to him if he reflected on it too long. Still, much of
her magic had been tied up in her lovely long hair, and
perhaps the length of it did contribute to the length of her
determination. "But it just wouldn't be right to—"

"To love me without giving me a proper chance to
explore my other avenues," she said. "I understand. But
still, I wish I could avoid this process."

"I can't say I like it much myself," he said. "But sup-
pose I—you—we—and then—"

"Suppose we gave ourselves to each other, and then
discovered it was a mistake," she said, as usual phrasing
his thought better than he could.

"Yes. And—"

"And so we would be sorry and very sad for our fool-
ishness." She sounded so calm and rational!
"Yes."

She turned to him. "Oh, Grundy—let's do it!"
"What?"

"Oh, don't play the innocent with me!" she said reprov-
ingly. "I'm the innocent, not you! Let's be foolish and see
if we're sorry later."

Temptation tore at him. That would certainly be a way
to settle it! His doubt was about to be overwhelmed. With
no more than a semblance of sincerity, he temporized:

"You can't mean that!"

She sighed. "Of course I don't mean it, Grundy," she
agreed. "I knew you'd be noble."




236                 Golem in the Gears

Noble! His words had mocked his intent—but she had
accepted the words, and now he was committed to them.
He was not only insignificant in body, he was insignificant
in spirit. He felt worse than ever.

"It was wrong of me to try to be a temptress," she
continued. "I'm not good at it, because I don't have any

experience."

"You're not good at it because you're a truly beautiful

person," he corrected her.

"No, just inexperienced. You're the beautiful one,
because you know what's right and wrong and choose the

right."

"No! I'm nothing of the kind! When you said—I wanted

to—I only—"

"I think you have an inferiority complex, Grundy. You

don't even believe in your own good motives."

And she did believe—in his good motives. She was
too good even to recognize the evil in another person's

mind.

"Inferiority," he agreed.

"Still," she said, "I have a deep misgiving about this
elf matter. I fear some nameless evil that is not of our

making."

"If you really don't want to—"

"Oh, no, I'm sure you are correct. I should meet the
elves. But I'll be very glad and relieved when it's over
and we're back on the way to Castle Roogna. I'm not as
worried about the human community, now, since I met
Jordan and Threnody. They were all right. I can get along

with their kind."

"Then maybe—"

"But I don't love their kind," she concluded. "I love
you, Grundy. And if this elf business finally satisfies you,
then it will be worth it."

Golem in the Gears                 237

Then it would be worth it... He held her hand, and
drifted into a somewhat troubled sleep.

Next day they threaded the separation between lake
and mountain and ferreted their way through the thick-
ening jungle. Tangle trees were more common here, and
others that seemed equally menacing, but when any started
inching their foliage toward the travelers, Stanley jetted
steam, and they withdrew.

Then Grundy picked up news of an Elf Elm. He sighed,
inwardly; how convenient it would have been if there had
been none! But now they had to go to it—a prospect he
dreaded, though for no intuitive reason. He simply feared
that Rapunzel would like the elves too well and would
conclude that her proper home was there. But he had to
provide her that chance.

They zeroed in on it, but the elven demesnes were
extensive, and they did not reach the Elm by nightfall. So
they camped and foraged and settled down.

"Oh, I feel it worse!" Rapunzel lamented.

"The elves won't hurt us," he reassured her. "Not when
we explain. They are sensible folk."

"I know. It is not precisely their motives I fear."

But she didn't know exactly what she did fear. So she
kissed him and held his hand tightly and slept, and in due
course he slept too.
course he slept too.

In the morning the elves were there.

"And what be ye doing in these our demesnes?" their
leader inquired sternly in the human-tongue. He carried
a hefty wooden mallet.

Grundy jumped up. "I can explain!"

"Ye'd better!"

"We were coming to see you, honored Elf," he said




238

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

239

quickly. "Because one of our number is of elven deriva-
tion."

"That were not lightly claimed," the elf said, grimacing.

Grundy brought Rapunzel forward. She was busily
brushing out her short hair, making herself presentable in
the female manner on an emergency basis. "This is Rapun-
zel, who—"

"She be not elven-size."

"Show them," Grundy told her.

Rapunzel was abruptly elven size, still trying to comb
a tangle from her hacked hair.

The leader squinted at her. "Aye, she be fair enough!
But size change be magic, no proof of origin."

"But her magic is in her hair, that—" Grundy realized
that he could not prove anything by her hair, as she had

lost her phenomenal tresses.

"My ancestors were Jordan the Barbarian and Bluebell
Elf, of the tribe of Flower Elves," Rapunzel said, finally

getting the tangle out.

There was a stir. "You claim good lineage, girl."

"The best," she agreed.
"And you?" the elf asked of Grundy.
"I am a golem. My talent is linguistics. And this is
Stanley Steamer, formerly the Gap Dragon." Stanley

puffed a ring of steam.

"A tame dragon?" the elf's bow arched.
"He is Princess Ivy's companion, in the human realm.

We are returning him to her."

"Do ye several folk stand by your statements?" the elf

asked gravely.

"Of course we do!" Rapunzel exclaimed indignantly.

"What do you think we are?"

"Then we shall take ye to our tree for confirmation. If
ye be confirmed, ye'll have no fear of us."

And if not? Grundy wondered, but didn't ask.

"We be of the Tool Tribe," the elf said. "I be Mallet,
and these be Chisel—" Here he indicated an elf with a
chisel. "—and Hoe and Wrench and Awl." He continued
around the circle, each elf made obvious by his tool. But
it was evident that those tools could quite readily serve
as weapons.

Then the elves escorted the party to the Elf Elm. This
was an enormous tree, its crown of foliage seeming small
because it was so far away.

They halted a moderate distance away. "You who claim
elven descent," Mallet said. "Carry that rock."

Startled, Rapunzel obeyed. She remained elven-size,
so the indicated rock was larger than Grundy could have
handled, but it was no easy thing for her to carry. She
staggered forward with it toward the tree. Then, oddly,
the burden seemed to grow lighter, and she carried it with
less distress. As the others paced her, she relaxed, finally
setting the rock on her shoulder so as to free one hand.
"It's not as heavy as I thought," she confessed.

"Enough," Mallet said. "Your claim is verified."

"But you haven't examined your records!" she pro-
tested.

"Know, crossbreed, that the strength of elves varies
inversely with our distance from the elm," he explained.
"Your strength be not as great here as ours, but the effect
be manifest. You are of elven descent, whatever your
other lineage."

She set down the rock. "I was not told of this!" She
seemed pleased.

Grundy scowled inwardly. Naturally the Sea Hag had
not educated her about this aspect of the elven culture;

it might have made her eager to experience it. It also




Golem in the Gears

240

augured unfortunately well for her acceptance here and
her possible decision to remain.

More elves descended from the high foliage, on thin
lines, seeming to have no trouble holding on. The first to
land on the ground was a handsome male elf whose beard
was not yet full. "What have we here?" this one demanded.

"We have a girl of elven descent. Prince Gimlet," Mal-
let said. "With her entourage of golem and dragon."

Prince Gimlet oriented on Rapunzel. "And a fair crea-
ture she is, indeed, may I say!" he exclaimed, taking her
hand and kissing it. She blushed, flattered.
Grundy kept his expression fixed on neutral.
Prince Gimlet's gaze passed over Grundy and Stanley.
"Feed her companions, while I show our visitor our Tree,"
he said, making an offhand gesture.

"Oh, but I don't want to be separated from—" Rapun-
zel began.

"Obviously a dragon can not ascend a tree," the Prince
told her. "He will be here when you return." And he put
his arm about her slender waist and hauled her up, climb-
ing the line with feet and a single hand. It was an amazing
feat, even allowing for the elven strength near the tree.

"But—" Grundy cried, and Stanley steamed. But the
other elves closed in about them, their expressions turning
grim, their hands going to their tools, and Grundy realized
that this was not the best occasion to make an issue. After
all, he wanted Rapunzel to experience the elven culture,

didn't he?

"Here be food," Mallet said, indicating the carcass of

some kind of beast near the base of the tree.

Stanley went over, sniffed, and started chewing on it.
But Grundy, following, saw some dead ants by the car-
cass. "What's this?" he asked in grass-talk.

Golem in the Gears                 241

"Poisoned meat," the grass replied. "They use it to get
rid of pests."

"Stanley!" Grundy cried. "Don't—"

But it was too late. The dragon stiffened, his eyes
assuming a glazed look; then he sank to the ground.

Grundy turned on the elves. "You—this is not—"

"Prince's orders," Mallet said. "Strange ones, I admit;

we never poisoned a tame creature before. But he's the
Prince."

Grundy started to run. But an elf reached down and
caught him, and hefted him up overhead with one hide-
ously powerful arm. He was helpless.

He was carried around the tree. The elf bent to touch
the ground, and found a ring set there; he hauled on it,
and a turf-covered slab came up. Beneath was a ramp
going down. The elf dropped Grundy in and let the heavy
slab fall back into place.

Grundy tumbled on down through the darkness, fetch-
ing up against a packed-earth wall. He was bruised and
disoriented, but not hurt. He realized that he had abruptly
been made a prisoner.

For a while he simply sat in the dank dark, sorting
things out. Something was calamitously wrong—but
exactly what was it? He had had little contact with elves,
but he was absolutely sure they did not deal treacherously
with visitors. They were resolute in opposition and loyal
in support and always made their orientation clear at the
outset. To challenge a visiting party, then accept it, then
betray it—this was simply not the elven way. Yet it had
happened. Grundy knew that he would be able to do noth-
ing positive until he understood why. Certainly he could
not pound on the exit panel and demand to be released;

they would not release him without reason, and might




242

Golem in the Geon

Golem in the Gears

243

simply dispatch him as they had the dragon to shut him
up.

The dragon! They had poisoned Stanley! That was the    '
most appalling thing of all! Without Stanley, his Quest
was dead—not to mention the horror of losing a loyal
friend.

He calmed himself. Stanley was not just another dragon,   j
he was the Gap Dragon, just about the toughest breed   I
there was, accustomed to eating anything. He was young
and vigorous now. If any creature could survive poison,
Stanley could. He hadn't eaten very much of the carcass   ;

before being affected. Probably he was merely stunned
and would throw off the effect after a while. After all, in
the past, as an adult, he had consumed zombies and cherry
bombs and, once, a basilisk. If he had survived those,
surely he could survive a little poison!

Perhaps he could check on that. Grundy ran his hand
across the clammy earth until he found a worm hole. Then
he put his mouth to the hole and murmured in worm-talk:

"Hey, you worm! Where are you?"

Startled, the worm replied. "Who calls me from below?"

"It is I, Grundy Golem, friend to all insignificant crea-
tures. I need your help."

"For a friend to insignificant creatures, I will help."

Grundy smiled in the dark. He had rather thought that
would be the case. There was magic of a special nature
in language. "There is a dragon above. Can you tell me
whether he is alive or dead?"

"By the time I got there, he would surely be dead,"
the worm pointed out. "But I know a tunnelbug who is
very fast; he can check this for you."

"That would be much appreciated, noble Worm."

In a moment the tunnelbug had gone to the surface and
returned. "The dragon is ill, but not dead."

Grundy sagged in relief. "Will you carry a message to
him? I must give it in dragon-talk, so he will understand,
but you might carry it."

"I will try," the tunnelbug said bravely.
"Thank you so much, noble Tunnelbug! Here is the
message, to be whispered in his ear." And Grundy then
said carefully in dragon-talk: [DRAGON PLAY POSSUM TILL
FULLY RECOVERED—GRUNDY]. He repeated it several
times until the tunnelbug had it straight, for dragon-talk
was difficult for a bug.

In due course the bug departed. Now Grundy tried for
something more ambitious. "Is there a squiggle in the
region?" he called in squiggle-tongue.

He was in luck. A squiggle answered. It showed up in
the cell with an explosion of dirt. "Eh, what? What?" it
asked, perplexed.

"Oh honored Vole," Grundy said, remembering what
he had learned in the vole-tunnels. "I am trapped here
and need an escape. Will you make me a passage out,

that exits well away from the tree, so the elves will not
see me?"

The squiggle-vole was flattered. No one had consid-
ered it important enough for such a request, before. "Cer-
tainly, Golem. But wouldn't you rather explore the tree
itself?"

"I would—but the elves would treat me badly. They

have taken my friend up in the foliage, and I fear for her
safety."

"The reason I asked," the squiggle continued, "is that
it is a very short distance to the tree, and there is a shaft
inside it that only we voles remember. If you would like
to go there—"

What phenomenal luck! "Yes, honored Vole! That would




244

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

245

be perfect! Except—is there a way out of it at the top?
I can not help my friend if I can not get out of the trunk."

"There are crevices you could squeeze through," the
creature agreed. "We use them to peer out at the elves,
they unknowing, for we are very curious creatures."

"Most curious," Grundy agreed warmly. "I would be

deeply grateful for such aid."

"Glad to help," the squiggle said, still flattered. It pro-
ceeded to dig in the fashion only its kind could, in moments
making a short tunnel to the root of the tree. Sure enough,
there was a cavity in the wood that Grundy found with
his hands, for there was no light here. To make it even
better, there were the handholds of an old ladder leading
up, evidently intended for elves. The elf ancestors must
have crafted this as a secret exit, then forgotten it.

He thanked the squiggle, then started to climb. Because
the elves were twice his height, the rungs were more
widely spaced than was convenient for him, but he was
able to manage. He climbed through the darkness with
fair dispatch, counting rungs as he went, so as to be able
to judge the height. He figured that four hundred rungs
should put him at the level of the foliage.

It turned out that that was a considerable climb. Each
single rung was an effort, and soon he was tiring. At fifty
rungs he paused, panting. One eighth of the way up? How

could he ever make it!

The answer was, he had to make it. He knew that a
tribe that would betray a welcome, poison a friendly
dragon, and throw a golem in a dank cell could not have
anything very wonderful in mind for a young woman.
Rapunzel was, in effect, confined in another tower. He

would have to get her out.

He mounted another fifty rungs, and paused again. One
quarter of the way up—and three-quarters of his strength

had been expended, by the feel of it. But what was there
to do, except continue?

He hauled himself on up. The 134th rung gave way
when he drew on it, dropping his body while his heart
remained at the prior level. His hands caught the next
one down, so that he only dropped a third of his body-
length, but it was an ugly sensation. He hung there, his
fright overriding his fatigue. What a jolt!

Then he resumed the climb, somewhat more carefully.
He tested each new rung before trusting his full weight
to it. Naturally the rungs got old and weak with age, and
their anchorages rotted away. He should have expected
that. But it didn't make him feel better.

By the time he reached the 200th rung, the lift provided
by his fright from the near-fall had faded, and his arms
and legs were more tired than ever. Halfway—and now
it would be almost as bad to descend as to ascend. He
was stuck—rather, fully committed. But he still hardly
believed he could make it the rest of the way up.

He ground on, one rung at a time, each one a worse
torment than the one before. His hands were blistering
from the friction, and his feet were hurting from the nar-
row support. Then the blisters burst, and each new grip
was painful. He had to hold on more tightly, because of
the slipperyness caused by his own leaking hands, but his
strength was ebbing so that this was horrendously diffi-
cult.

Two hundred and twenty-five rungs—or was it two
hundred and thirty-five? He was no longer certain of the
count. Did it matter? The top was where it was, regardless
of the count.

His left hand lost its grip, and his right was too fatigued
to make a sudden grasp. But his feet slipped through the




Golem in the Gears

246

ladder, and brought him painfully short. He had not
fallen—but that was accident as much as luck.

Wouldn't it be easier simply to let go? He would be
down very quickly, his problems over.

Then he remembered Stanley Steamer, waiting below—
for what? If Grundy did not return to him, would the
dragon make it home to Ivy on his own?

Grundy resumed his climb, heedless of the agony of
his hands. But now that agony was fading, for they were
growing numb. He had to test his grip on each rung, not
just to verify the soundness of the rung, but to be sure

his grip would hold.

Up, up, eternally. He was no longer counting; that
required too much energy. He just went.

Somewhere around 300 he stalled. His numbed mus-
cles simply would no longer respond. His last vestige of
strength was spent. All he could do now was hang there,
until he dropped off.

But his mind had not been deadened as far as his body
had. He thought of Rapunzel, at the dubious mercy of
Prince Gimlet. Why had the Prince welcomed her, while
treating her companions in such dastardly fashion?

The question brought the answer: Rapunzel was a
beautiful and innocent woman. The very kind an unscru-
pulous man could sweep off her feet and use. Surely the
Prince cared nothing for her personally; it was her naivet6
he was after. So he had, literally, swept her off her feet,
and given orders to dispatch her companions. This was
the way a powerful and cynical person was. Grundy sim-
ply had not expected it among the elves, whom he sup-
posed were superior to the human society in this respect.

Live and learn!

The thought of what Prince Gimlet might even now be
doing to Rapunzel spurred Grundy to renewed activity.

Golem in the Gears                 247

His arms were numb, but he moved them, hooking clawed
hands over the rungs and hoisting himself up and up. He
had to be getting close! He was already farther than he
had thought possible, at fifty rungs.

Above him a crevice of light showed. It was really very
faint, but he had been in darkness so long that his eyes
made the illumination seem strong. The squiggle had spo-
ken truly!

Grundy no longer really felt his arms. and legs; they
seemed to have disconnected from his body. But his body
continued to rise, until he was at the crevice. He peered
through.

It was the elven kitchen. It had a stove and counters,
and an elf cook was working. The crevice was behind the
stove, perhaps caused by the drying effect of the heat.
The stove appeared to be made of wood, which made
Grundy marvel; what would such a stove bum, and how
would it remain intact? It evidently worked satisfactorily.
The walls of the chamber were leafy, and the workers
were careful to step on the solid branches below, rather
than on the twigs or leaves, lest they fall through. There
was a lot more in an Elf Elm than outsiders knew!

He moved on up, feeling somewhat restored now that
the desolate climb had rewarded him with this access. He
didn't want the kitchen, he wanted the Prince's chambers.
What he would do once he found them he didn't know,
but that was not his immediate problem.

Farther up, on the other side, he found another crevice.
This one overlooked the nursery, for there were elven
babies sleeping in leafy cradles. Gusts of wind rocked
those cradles, which were on smaller branches that bent

with the light force of it. It seemed to be a convenient
arrangement.

At a higher level was the sewing room. Elven maidens




248                 Golem in the Gears

were working at a table, sewing garments and chatting
merrily. Grundy paused to listen.

"... and the dragon was tame," one was saying. "They
rode on it. But Prince Gimlet ordered it put away."

"That's strange," another said. "We never harmed a
friendly creature before."

"Have you noticed?" the first said. "The Price has been
acting strangely this past day. You know how he always
puts his hands on us, pretending it's an accident?"

"That's because he's not supposed to fool with com-
mon girls," the third said. "But until he finds a suitable
royal bride from another Elm—"

The second rubbed her rear. "Some day I'm going to
'accidentally* drop a plate of glop on his foot!"

"That's what I'm saying," the first said. "Late last night
when I replaced the candles in his chamber, I thought
sure he'd try to grab me the way he usually does, but he
just sort of stared at me, seeming confused. I asked him
if he was all right, but he just told me gruffly to get on
about my business. He sounded strange. I thought maybe
he had some royal indisposition, but I was just glad to
get out of there without a struggle. Now, after this dragon
business, I wonder."

"He grabs, but he's nice," the third said. "I never heard
of him harming a friendly creature, before."

Then an elven matron entered the chamber, and the
three shut up and concentrated on their sewing. Grundy
moved on up, though he was sure no one suspected his

presence.

So the Prince was acting strangely. But his action with
Rapunzel was not strange. Obviously he had found a bet-
ter woman to pinch. Grundy burned at the notion and
kept climbing.

The shaft narrowed and finally debouched at what had

Golem in the Gears

249

once been a broken branch. A door cunningly Grafted to
resemble healed-over wood opened onto a network of
branches clothed with leaves.

Grundy stood there, looking about, trying to decide
what to do next. He remained almost dead tired and hadn't
located the Princely chambers. Had all this been for noth-
ing?

Then he heard voices below. He was above a chamber.
He squatted down, then lay flat, parting the leaves with
his hands, carefully. The voices became clearer—and now
he recognized them. Rapunzel and Prince Gimlet!

He managed to arrange the leaves so that he could see
them, without being seen. He hated to imagine it, but if
Rapunzel liked the Prince's attentions, then she was not
being forced, and it would be Grundy's duty to let her be.
He could descend quietly, rejoin Stanley, and return to
Castle Roogna to complete his Quest. The fact that his
love would be lost would have no bearing on the matter.
It wouldn't count at all to anyone but him. But he had to
be fair.

He hoped she hated the Prince.

As it happened, nothing much was happening. They
were evidently completing a meal, a fairly sumptuous
repast. Rapunzel, for all her dainty figure, had a good
appetite. The smell of the food reminded Grundy that he
had not eaten today. How he would like to have some of
those leftover scraps!

"My dear, I like you," the Prince said, wiping his mouth
with a fancy napkin. "I think I'll marry you."

"But I don't love you!" Rapunzel protested, amazed.

"What does love have to do with it? I am in need of a
proper consort, who can not be from this Tree, and I
believe you will do."

"But I love another!"




250                 Golam in the Gears

His gaze narrowed. "Oh? Who?"
"Grundy Golem," she confessed.
"But he is not of elven stock. You must marry within

your culture."

"Why?" she asked, with that delightful innocence she

had.

"Because that's the way it is. Now I'll just declare that

you are to be my bride, and the elven banns will be pub-
lished, and then in a couple of weeks—"

"No!" she cried.

"You prefer to marry the golem?" he asked incredu-
lously.

"Yes."

Grundy's delight at this assertion was nullified by Gim-
let's next words. "Then know, oh damsel, that the golem
is even now our prisoner, and if you do not acquiesce
with proper grace to this union, I will have him killed."

"Oh, no!" she wailed.

"Oh, yes," he said grimly. "Do you agree to marry me

now?"

This was too much for Grundy. "No she doesn't!" he

yelled.

"Grundy!" Rapunzel cried, delighted.

"How did you get up here?" Gimlet demanded, furious.
He drew his weapon, which was a steel rod, with a handle
set across the end like the horizontal stroke of a T, and
a twisted point that looked wicked indeed. He strode across
the chamber and rammed the gimlet up, trying to spear

Grundy.

Rapunzel screamed. Grundy, surprised, slipped off his
branch and fell down through the ceiling. But he grabbed
the Prince's raised arm as he dropped, and clung to it,
trying to wrest away the weapon.

Immediately he knew he was in trouble. Not only was




Golem in the Gears                 251

he still very tired, but the Prince had the elven strength,
strongest here within the foliage of the Elm. He held his
arm aloft, Grundy upon it, and caught the golem by the
scruff of the neck with his other hand. He ripped Grundy
free as if he were a rag doll—as perhaps he once had
been. Grundy was helpless.

The Prince readied the gimlet. "Now I shall run you
through, as I should have done before," he said.

"No!" Rapunzel cried.

"No?" the Prince inquired, holding the point near
Grundy's stomach. "And why should I desist, damsel?"

Rapunzel was stricken, knowing what he wanted. But
if she gave him that, she would lose Grundy in another
sense.

Grundy could not urge her to either course. She would
lose him either way. She had to make her own decision.

"Spare him," she said brokenly. "And I will—will m-
marry you." Then she sank to the floor, sobbing.

The Prince smiled. "So it seems you are some use to
me after all, Golem. I never thought that would be the
case, when I fought you in the Tower. But of course I
was not using you properly. Why kill you and have the
damsel kill herself, when I can have complete control over
her merely by threatening you? So you shall live, but you
shall not be free." He turned to face the entrance, which
was a hole in the center of the floor. "Guards!"

Tower? Suddenly Grundy suffered a horrendous real-
ization. "The Sea Hag!" he cried.

The Prince grimaced. "Curses! I shouldn't have let that
slip. Well, it makes no difference. Once I marry her, I'll
suicide this body and she will be Queen of the Elves, and
I will assume her body."

"She'll never agree to that!" Grundy cried.

"Won't she—with your life still at stake?"




252

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gear*

253

Grundy realized that Rapunzel would indeed give in
again—to save him. Her love was true, and that was her
undoing. He had been a fool to believe that the Hag had
given up, merely because she had not been willing to sting
Rapunzel to death when she had been a Queen B. She
had merely sought another avenue—and now she had

found it.

The guards arrived. "Confine this wretch in a cage,"

the Hag commanded. "This time watch him. See that he

does not escape."

"Don't do it!" Grundy cried. "This isn't your Prince.

It's the Sea Hag!"

"He's crazy as well as scrawny," the Hag said. "As

you can see, I am unchanged."

"He's changed! He's changed!" Grundy cried. "You
know how he's changed in the last day—since the Hag
took over his body. This is an imposter, not your Prince

at all!"

The guards hesitated. Obviously they had heard the

gossip, and knew the Prince was different. But they weren't
ready to defy him. They came toward Grundy.

"Would your Prince ever have poisoned a friendly

dragon?" Grundy demanded.

At this, Rapunzel's head came up. "What?"
"They poisoned Stanley!" Grundy told her. "And threw

me in a dank cell!"

"Oh, I must flee this place!" she cried, in her distress
changing to human-size. In this form she seemed practi-
cally to fill the chamber, and her weight bore the branches

of the floor down somewhat.

"You do, and he dies," Prince Hag said evenly, touch-
ing Grundy's belly with the point of the gimlet.

"Oh!" she repeated, horrified anew. She reverted to

elf-size.

"Don't yield to the Hag!" Grundy yelled at her. "She'll
kill me anyway, once she has your body! Go now, save
yourself. Go down to Stanley and ride back to Castle
Roogna! He knows the way!"

But this logic was too cruel for her maidenly heart to
bear. She sank again to the floor, swooning.

"Now lock him up," the Hag told the guards. "I will
see to the damsel."

"But that's not your Prince!" Grundy cried desperately.
"Ask anybody! Ask the serving girls! You know he's
changed. No elf acts the way he does, threatening inno-
cent folk with death!"

Again the guards hesitated, knowing that he had a point.
They had known the Prince a long time and recognized
the change in him; now Grundy was providing an expla-
nation.

"Obey," the Hag told them, "or I'll run you through!"

"That does it," one guard said. "I think the golem's
right."

"Wretch!" the Hag cried, aiming the gimlet at him.

But the guards drew their weapons, which were a
screwdriver and a trowel. Metal gleamed. They were as
strong as the Prince, here. "The issue is in doubt," the
other guard said. "We must schedule a trial."

"Over my dead body!" the Hag screamed, and now
the Prince's face did in a way resemble that of the Hag
of the Ivory Tower.

The two guards stood unflinching, weapons ready, not
responding. It was evident that the elves were an inde-
pendent breed who did not tolerate what they knew to be
wrong, even when it seemed that their Prince ordered it.
They had had time to ponder the business of poisoning a
tame dragon and violating a sanctuary after it had been
granted, and they were not having any more of it.




254                 Golem in the Gears

The Hag saw that she had overstepped her bounds and
was only getting herself into trouble. She was not a natural
elf and could not long fool true elves once their suspicion
was aroused. She would lose all credibility if this contin-
ued.

"Then let there be a trial," she said, assuming an aspect

of abrupt reasonableness. "A trial of right by strength—
the golem and I. The survivor gets the girl."

The guards nodded. "That seems the best way," Trowel
agreed. "We will schedule it for tomorrow—you against

the golem."

Grundy could not protest, because his alternative was

to get killed outright, here. But how could he hope to beat
the horrible strength of the Hag in elven-form? He feared
that he had only postponed the reckoning.

But Rapunzel brightened. "Oh, Grundy, I just know
you can do it! Then everything will be all right!"

Or all wrong. But at least it gave her a night of hope,
and that was worth something.

Chapter 16. Trial

In the morning Grundy found himself stiff from
the prior day's exertion and still somewhat tired. They
had locked him in a leafy chamber for the night, alone,
but the elven maidens had brought him food and a cham-
ber pot and had rubbed healing salve into his blistered

Golem in the Gears                 255

hands. He couldn't complain; if he seemed like a prisoner,
still it protected him from the malice of the Hag, who was
similarly isolated. He knew that Rapunzel was protected
from contact with either litigant, until the decision was
reached. The elves were, indeed, fair, in their rigorous
fashion.

A guard, called Lathe, came to conduct him to the site
of the trial. "Golem, you are not of our culture," Lathe
said, touching the instrument that gave him his name. It
was a kind of wooden framework with wheels mounted
on it, used to rotate things that were being evenly shaped.
Evidently he liked to be sure that a situation was properly
shaped, too. "Do you understand the rules of the trial?"

"No."

"You have challenged the Prince's identity, and the
Prince denies your charge. As we are unable to judge the
merits of the case objectively, we are submitting it to trial
by combat. Because you made the charge against the
Prince, he has the choice of type of contest. He has chosen
Lines and Boxes."

"Lines and Boxes?" Grundy demanded incredulously.
He remembered the game he had played with the ant lion,
back at the Good Magician's castle. But that was no duel-
to-the-death! Well—not from the game itself. The con-
sequence of losing, however, was death.

"You swing on the lines to the boxes, and cut the lines
behind you. When you trap your opponent in a box, you
dump him into the loop."

Evidently this was not the game he had played, though
it seemed to have some similarities. Could similar strat-
egies be followed? "I don't think I have done that before,"
Grundy said cautiously.

"Naturally not. It's an elven specialty that negates dif-




256

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

257

ferentials in size and strength. You do, however, need to
be agile, and some cleverness helps."

This was sounding better. "What is this loop you men-
tion?"

"It is an ancient artifact we have had in our Elm for
centuries. Anything that passes through it, never returns,
unless it is attached to something on this side, so that it
can be drawn back quickly."

"Sounds like the Void," Grundy said, shuddering.

"The what?"

It seemed that the elves of this tree did not know about
the geography of Northern Xanth. "A black hole that
never yields what it takes in."

"Perhaps so," Lathe agreed. "Certainly whichever one
of you falls through the loop will not return."

So this was, indeed, a duel to the death, or the equiv-
alent. Whoever passed through the loop would be fin-
ished, certainly. If he dumped the Hag through, Rapunzel
would be forever free of that terrible threat. If, on the
other hand, the Hag dumped him through...

Lathe conducted him to the site of the trial. This was
outside the Elm; in fact, right beside it. A number of thin
lines descended from the foliage, dangling down to near
the ground. A smaller number of platforms were perched
on poles rising from the ground. The poles were slender,
and reached about halfway up the trunk of the tree, so
that the little platforms swayed gently in the breeze.
Grundy saw that there was a framework of slats about
each platform, so that a person standing on one could
have handholds. Still, it looked precarious. He would pre-
fer to trust himself to a line, assuming that his abraded
hands remained strong enough to hold on. The salve had
done a marvelous job, so that the skin was now intact,
but scars remained.

He peered to the ground, a dizzying distance below.
There, within the ring of poles, was a large funnel that
glistened; probably it had been greased. In the center was
a small dark hole: the loop.

Lathe handed him a knife. It was small, suitable for
his hand, and the blade was honed to a feather edge on
either side.

"One slash will sever a line," the elf explained. "Sev-
eral slashes will be required to cut through a pole. How-
ever, either action takes time, and therefore sacrifices
mobility."

Why was he saying that? Grundy shrugged, studying
the layout to see whether any strategy suggested itself.

There were six boxes, and four lines dangled near the
comers of each. The circle of boxes was tight enough so
that it looked possible to swing from any one of them to
any other; but they were still far enough apart so that any
attempt to jump between them was bound to be futile.
His challenge was to isolate the Hag in a box, and then
dump her into that funnel below. Could he do it? He had
to!

Now Rapunzel appeared, surrounded by elven maids.
She remained elf-sized, but was still phenomenally beau-
tiful despite her brief hair. She had to remain on a branch
separate from the arena, where she could watch without
interfering.

"Oh, Grundy!" she cried. "My premonition has come
true! I wish we had not come to this place!"

He wished so too! His effort to provide her fair expo-
sure to the elven culture had proven disastrous. But now
she was apt to become a part of it, in the worst way.

And Prince Gimlet arrived. He was in brief athletic
clothes and had exchanged his gimlet for a double-edged
knife like Grundy's, only larger. The Prince had the advan-




258

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

259

tage of size and strength, but those would not count for
much as long as the two contestants did not touch each
other, and might even be to his disadvantage on the pre-
carious boxes. So this might indeed be a fair trial.
"Are the litigants ready?" one of the elves inquired.
"Ready," the Hag said with confidence.
"Uh, yes," Grundy mumbled. He hoped he was!

"Begin."

The Prince caught hold of the line closest to him and
swung in to the nearest platform. Grundy found a line
just within his reach, and did the same. He felt the stiff-
ness in his arms anew, but had no real trouble. The contest

was on!

The Prince took another line, and launched himself
directly across the circle. Grundy hadn't expected this
and stood and stared for a moment. Then he realized that
the Prince's blade was aimed right at him, as the elf swung
one-handed. He could be dispatched by the knife directly,
then tossed into the loop! What difference did it make

how he died?

He grabbed almost blindly at a line to the side and
jumped off. His aim was bad, and he missed the adjacent
platform. He swung erratically across to the one beyond—
but already the elf was pursuing him, knife still extended.

This time Grundy got more of his wits about him. He
hung onto the line he had, set his feet against the edge of
the box, and shoved violently off. He sailed across the
circle to the opposite platform, landed on it, then quickly
cut the line he had used so that it would not swing back
to the elf. He was learning!

But the elf merely took another line, and came after
him again. Grundy didn't dare go across the center, when
the elf was doing it; they would meet, and Grundy would

be the one stabbed, for the elf's reach was twice his own.
He had to move off to the side.

The elf pursued him in this manner all about the circle,
and as they moved more of the lines were cut, until Grundy
discovered that there had been a pattern in the pursuit.
He was now trapped on a platform from which all the
lines had been lost—but he had let go of his incoming
line before realizing that. He couldn't get away!

He turned and braced himself, expecting the elf to
come at him blade-first, but that wasn't the case. That
would have meant a suggestion of a fighting chance.
Instead, the elf handed himself down the line and swung
down below, catching at the pole on which Grundy's box
was perched. Then he sawed at it with the knife.

That had to be stopped! Grundy leaped out desperately,
catching the upper section of the line that was supporting
the elf. He couldn't swing it anywhere, because it was
now anchored below, but he hoped to jerk it out of the
elf's grasp and strand him on the pole.

It didn't work. The elf was far stronger than he was,
and easily retained control of the line while continuing to
saw at the pole. If Grundy slid down the rope, that knife
would finish him; if he did not, his pole would soon
fall, and he would be stuck right here, waiting for the elf
to climb up and get him.

Then he had a desperate notion. If he could exert a
sudden, hard shock to the line—

He reached up and sliced through the line above him.
Suddenly he was falling. He hung on to his severed seg-
ment of the line, knowing that his weight would jerk at
the elf when the slack was taken up.

Abruptly, it happened. The elf screamed as he was
wrenched off the pole, and he fell toward the funnel.

Then the flaw in his plan occurred to Grundy. He was




260

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

261

falling too! Somehow he had overlooked that when the
seemingly brilliant strategy came to him. They were both
descending to their doom!

Grundy's feet struck the funnel first, and he flipped
involuntarily, absorbing the shock, and rolled toward the
center. The elf landed more heavily, but there was some
give in the runnel, and no bones were broken. Both of
them slid down the greased slope to the loop.

Grundy heard Rapunzel's scream of horror. It had
probably been issued some time ago, and was only just
now catching up with him. Then he plunged through the

dark hole of the loop.

He seemed to be in an opaque tunnel, falling yet float-
ing. Then he found himself standing on a cavern floor,
unharmed. In a moment the Hag landed beside him.

"Wretch!" she screamed. "Look what you've done!"

"I took you with me," Grundy said with a certain sat-
isfaction. "Now you won't get Rapunzel's body."

The Hag looked around. "We'll see. The Brain Coral
sometimes releases its acquisitions, if they have some-
thing to offer in exchange."

"The Brain Coral?"

"Didn't you recognize the loop, Golem? It's one of the
entrances to the realm of the Coral. Nothing returns
because the Coral keeps what it gets, until it decides to

release it."

Now Grundy remembered. Long ago, he had been in
the nether region ofXanth, with Bink and Chester Centaur
and Crombie the soldier and Good Magician Humfrey.
Horrendous things had happened. They had encountered
the Demon X(A/N)th, who was the source of magic, and
for a time there had been no magic in Xanth. He didn't
care to go through that again! He had been a true golem,
then, and when the magic had departed, so had his ani-
mation, leaving him as a tangle of cloth and wood. Only
when the magic returned had he revived—with one awful
headache.

But the residence of the Brain Coral was under a black
lake whose water slowly pickled anything in it and stored
creatures in a half-dead state indefinitely. There was no
water here. Instead there was a spacious dry chamber
whose far wall was—

"Oh-oh," Grundy murmured, shivering.

"Maybe if I give you to the Brain Coral, it will let
me go," the Hag said. "Or I might give it this elf-prince
body, and take yours, and return to claim Rapunzel. She
would do anything for you, without even questioning it.
Then—"

"This isn't the Brain Coral's residence," Grundy said.

"Of course it is! I told you, I recognized the loop.
I've never been here before, of course, but I know about
the Brain Coral from way back. It's always ready to deal."

"Maybe once the loop led to the Brain Coral," Grundy
said. "But this time it glitched. This is—" He found him-
self unable to say the dread words.

"If you're trying to talk your way out of this, Golem,
it won't work. I will simply haul you in." And the Prince's
hand reached out and grabbed Grundy by the collar.

Grundy pulled away—and the elf's hand could not
retain the grasp. "You aren't near the Elf Elm any more,
Hag," he said. "That body is no longer enhanced by magic
strength. Also—"

The Hag dived for him. "I'll haul you in anyway,
Golem!"

Grundy dodged aside, and the body of the elf stumbled
past him. Then it stiffened. The aristocratic mouth opened
and the eyes stared.




Golem in the Gears

262

The body's impetus carried it forward another step,
and animation returned. "What—?"

"You stepped into a Thought," Grundy said.

"A what?"

"A Thought. They exist here in bands, invisible, and
when you step into one—"

"A hemale and a shemale were—it was grotesque!"

"You should talk. Hag! Here you are in a male
body—"

"And an itmale looking on, seeking to—to—"

"And you thought you were experienced," Grundy said
wryly. "Well, go step into another Thought vortex, and
get some real experience!"

"But—"

"This isn't the cave of the Brain Coral," Grundy said.
"It's the cave of the Demon X(A/N)th. And if we wake
him—"

"It can't be!" She took a step toward him. "You're just
saying that, Golem, to get out of—"

"Don't move about too much. Hag, or you'll—"

The elf's face froze again. Too late—she was already
in another Thought vortex.

Grundy backed away—and stepped into one himself.
It was the Demon S(I/R)ius, in Anonymale aspect, seeking
a blood sacrifice for the autumn festival. Canicula, here
is the fawn-colored doggie for thy—

Grundy emerged from the vortex, shaking. He didn't
want to be the canine sacrifice for that festival!

The Hag had also emerged. "Unspeakable!" she spat.
"I must get out of here!"

"Don't charge blindly about!" Grundy warned.

Again he was too late. She charged blindly toward the
far wall, stiffened and stumbled as she tore through a

Golem in the Gears                 263

Thought, righted herself, lumbered into another vortex,
and finally crashed into the wall.

"Trouble!" Grundy muttered.

For that was no ordinary wall. It was in the form of a
huge stone face, and she had just banged into its mon-
strous nose.

That did it. An enormous eye blinked. The Demon
X(A/N)th was waking!

The whole cave shuddered as the face came alive. The
Hag stood there before it, amazed. She might have existed
for centuries, but she had had no experience with this ent-
ity ! Grundy had — and knew that no matter how bad his sit-
uation had been a moment ago, it was now infinitely worse.

The phenomenal orifice of a mouth opened. "WHO
COMES HERE?" it demanded.

The Hag didn't answer, so Grundy had to. "It's an
accident, Demon!" he quavered.

"THEN I WILL DESTROY THAT ACCIDENT THAT DISTURBS
MY REPOSE!"

That was exactly what Grundy had been afraid of. The
Demon X(A/N)th cared nothing for the lives of ordinary
creatures, and only wanted them to stay clear. There was
supposed to be a magic shield to prevent anyone from
blundering in, but apparently the loop had bypassed that.
Now the Demon, the source of all this land's magic, was
aroused and angry, ready to swat Grundy and perhaps
the rest of Xanth out of existence as someone would an
annoying fly.

What did he have to lose, now? "You wouldn't do that
if you had any notion of the problems of real people!"
Grundy cried.

The Demon paused. "It talks back?"

Grundy plowed on heedlessly. "You're omnipotent! You
don't have any real problems! No wonder you don't care




264

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

265

about ours! But if you were in my place for even one
minute, you'd change your mind!"

The Demon considered. "Is this a wager?" he inquired
mildly.

"Whatever you want to call it! You don't know a thing
about real life!"

"Very well. We shall change places—for one minute."

Suddenly Grundy's consciousness was in the body and
brain of the Demon. His gaze penetrated the rock of the
physical realm as if it were mere haze and reached into
the framework of the planets. He was in a foul mood,
because he had been losing significance for several decades
and seemed to be unable to reverse the trend. While it
was true that he was omnipotent in the physical sense,
he was not in the social sense, and the other Demons of
the System were gaining on him. E<A/R)th now had pro-
gressed a notch in status, having ( )'s, while X(A/N)th
remained with ()'s. That was humiliating, for that shemale
was basically Mundanish in character. V{E/N}us had
hoisted herself similarly, and was now considered to be
a mostfatalefemme. Even distant P|L/U|to wasn't what
he once had been, in local estimation. JU[P/I]ter was get-
ting very big, and NEXP/TKune had acquired a virtual
ocean of self-respect. And • «SA«TAJ»RN« • was extreme-
ly fancy now. Everyone was progressing except X(A/N)th!
If only he had some way to gain significance, some strat-
egy of upsmanship to recover lost status!

Then the timeless minute was done, and Grundy was
a golem again. His insignificant little mind was reeling.
Truly, the Demon did have a problem! He would never
have understood it, had he not been in the Demon's sit-
uation for that minute, for status was not a thing he had
ever approached as a golem. Now he saw that the Demon
was suffering in a manner that was, in its permutated

essence, similar to his. Among omnipotent entities, the
Demon X(A/N)th was insignificant, and he didn't like it.
Yes—now Grundy could understand. All that differed
was the scale.

Meanwhile, the huge Demon face looked thoughtful.
"I grasp your concern now, Golem," he said. "Your com-
pass is infinitesmal, but your relative challenge is as great.
Unlike me, you have a mechanism for solution."

"I do?" Grundy asked, surprised.

"All you require is the respect of a good woman—and
you have that if you emerge from this situation."

Grundy realized that it was true. If he survived this,
it would mean that he was victor in the trial—and he
could lay claim to Rapunzel, who was eager to be claimed.
The rapport with the elves had been hopelessly soured;

she would never voluntarily join that society now. With
her respect, he needed that of no other person.

If he survived. But that remained unlikely. The Demon
had taken up his challenge to exchange places for a min-
ute, for the Demon was a creature of challenge, but that
did not signify any further commitment.

Unless—

"Let me make you another challenge!" Grundy cried.
"You give me my ambition if I show you how to get
yours!"

The Demon, being almost omniscient, was not slow to
catch on. "Done, Golem!"

So he had the deal that would solve his problem. There
was only one flaw. He had no idea how to solve the
Demon's problem.

"Urn, I'll need a little time to work it out..."

"I thought you might," the Demon agreed. "You shall
have all the time you need, eternity if you wish. But one
hour from now, if the deal has not been consummated, I




266                 Golem in the Gears

will confine you to the storage of the Brain Coral, and
send the Sea Hag back to the surface."

Ouch! That would mean that the elves and Rapunzel
would believe the Hag had won the trial, and by the time
Grundy returned, if ever, it would be too late; Rapunzel
would be the Hag. The Demon certainly knew how to
generate incentive!

The Hag caught on. It was obvious that the Demon
was fully aware of her nature and didn't care. "Maybe I
can make a deal, too—" she started.

"Better quit while you're ahead," the Demon advised
her.

She shut up. Obviously she was ahead; all she had to
do was wait one hour, and Gmndy's default would send
her to her victory.

Now the Demon's face became still, again resembling
stone. But Grundy knew it would click back into ani-
mation in exactly one hour. He had to come up with his
solution to the Demon's problem in that time. Had to!

His mind, naturally, was blank. How could he think of
anything that the Demon had not thought of long before?
His intellect was the merest fraction of the Demon's! He
was really just a prisoner, as was the Hag, with a chance
to gain an advantage if he proved useful to the captor. If
he failed, the other prisoner would have the advantage.
Should he not have tried at all, so that neither of them
returned to the surface? Prisoner's dilemma!

Prisoner's dilemma... that reminded him of some-
thing. Bink had spent a lot of time in Mundania and brought
back tidbits, and one of them was a riddle of two pris-
oners, very like this one. One prisoner could get better
treatment if he gave evidence against the other—but if
the other did the same, both would be treated more harshly

Golem in the Geore                267

than before. Both knew this. What, then, were they to
do?

But enough of this distraction! He had a problem to
work out. How could he help the Demon gain stature in
the Demon society?

His mind went blank again. Then, idly, it returned to
the prisoner's dilemma. If one prisoner knew the other
would not give evidence, then he could afford to do it
himself, and get better treatment without actually hurting
the other. Still, if the other reasoned the same way—

Of course in this case the other prisoner was the Sea
Hag, and he knew she would always do the most treach-
erous thing. He could safely assume that she would give
evidence against him. So his choice would be whether to
keep quiet, and let her have the advantage, or to give
evidence, so as to bring her down with him, as he had
during the Lines and Boxes Trial.

The trouble with that was, it didn't bring him a victory.
What he really wanted was to leave her here, while he
returned to Rapunzel. So he had to solve the Demon's
problem.

Then it came to him: could there be a prisoner's dilemma
type of solution that would help the Demon? For the
Demon's situation was in its fashion similar to Grundy's:

the Demon had to gain an advantage over his rival Demons,
while they were trying to gain advantage over him. If there
were a solution to the prisoner problem, it just might apply
also to the Demon problem.

Well, suppose there were a strategy of play that would
prevail, no matter what the other party did. One that the
other party could catch on to and still not beat.

Suppose the moon weren't made of green cheese! He
was dreaming of the impossible.

Yet, almost, he thought there could be something. After




Golem in the Gears

268

all, there had been a winning strategy in the original lines
and boxes game with the ant lion. That had required a    i
surprise move, a sort of sacrifice, that changed the com-
plex of the configuration. Something that seemed non-
sensical, yet in retrospect made absolute sense.

Look at it this way, he told himself: if there was such
a strategy, Grundy Golem could achieve his heart's desire.
If not, he couldn't. So—there had to be such a strategy.
All he needed to do was work it out.

He got to it, scratching lines and boxes and figures on
the cavern floor. But no matter how he figured it, he
couldn't see how he could get ahead of the Hag, who
would never give him the slightest break. It simply wasn't
there; the best he could do was to bring her down with
him, so that both of them lost. Except that they wouldn't;

she would be granted the victory by default.

But then he realized that the Demon's situation differed
from his in one important respect: there were more than
two participants. Was it possible that the dynamics of
several differed from the dynamics of two? So that what
might be a losing strategy when going one-on-one could
be a winning one when going one-on-several?

But each deal the Demon X(A/N)th made, Grundy
remembered from his minute in the Demon's place, was
one-on-one. First he interacted with one other Demon,
then with another. Sometimes he gained a little against   |
one, but then he lost more against another. So it reduced
to one-on-one, and the loss continued, for it seemed that
the other Demons were more cynical and rapacious than
X(A/N)th, and nice guys finished last.

If only nice guys could finish first!

But maybe they could—

Then it burst upon him. Neither the nice-guy nor the
nasty-guy strategy was best, because others took advan-

Golem in the Gears                 269

tage of the first and were out to get the second. What was
needed was a tough-but-fair strategy that rewarded the
nice guys and punished the nasty guys—and that the oth-
ers know it.

Grundy scribbled some more. Suppose he tried Tough-
But-Fair (TBF) against all other types? The always-nice
would wash out quickly and drop out of the game, but
how about the always-nasty? Could TBF beat the Nas-
ties? It seemed to him that it was possible, if—
"Time," the Demon announced.
So soon! It had seemed like only a few minutes, but
Grundy knew it really had been an hour, not a piece of a
second more or less. "I—"
"Have you the answer?"
"I, uh, think so, but I need to test it—"
"Certainly I wouldn't want to use an untested strat-
egy," the Demon agreed wryly. "Test it now."

"I, uh, need several people, like me and the Hag—"
"How many of each?" the Demon asked.
"Well, a minimum of two. You see, the types—"
Abruptly there were four people where there had been
two. Grundy and the Hag each had a double. That wasn't
exactly what Grundy had meant, but he was afraid that
if he protested, the Demon would conclude he was stall-
ing, and that could finish him. "Uh, yes, thank you. Now
the rules—"

"You presume to dictate rules to me?" the Demon
demanded.

"There have to be rules, to show how the game works,
so that the strategy can operate," Grundy explained.

"Proceed."

"I think it's easiest if we use a point-scoring system.
The complexities of Demon status are beyond human
understanding, so—"




Golem in the Genre

270

"True," the Demon agreed.

"So we can use simple-folk-minded numbers. But it
will illustrate the underlying strategy—"

"Get on with it!"

"Uh, yes. Now the object is to score points. The one
who scores the most points overall is the winner. So if
my strategy always produces a winner—"

"You couldn't win anything, Golem!" one of the Prince
Gimlet elves put in. "Everybody knows that!"

"Shut your puss. Hag!" the other Grundy snapped. "If
everybody were here, they'd see you get your bottom

booted!"

Grundy discovered that he rather liked his double; the
golem had a good way of expressing himself. But he wasn't
certain whose bottom would get booted. "Uh—"

"Then let everybody see," the Demon decided.

Suddenly everybody was present. It was as if the cave
had become a monstrous theater, with themselves in the
center. In the front row sat King Dor and Queen Irene
and little Ivy and Dolph and King Emeritus Trent and
Queen Emeritus Iris and Bink and Chameleon and Ches-
ter and Cherie Centaur and Amolde Centaur and every-
one else who was anyone in Xanth, and in the rows behind
sat Jordan and Threnody and Stanley Steamer and Snor-
timer and everyone else who wasn't anyone, and farther
back were all the other people and creatures who weren't
quite classified yet. At the very most rear floated the
glowering cloud Fracto. Most of them looked a bit star-
tled, but none protested. All watched what had become
the stage, and waited for Grundy's demonstration.

It had never occurred to Grundy to doubt the awesome
power of the Demon X(A/N)th. But if it had, that doubt
would have been obliterated in this instant. All the Magi-
cians and Sorceresses and creatures and things of Xanth,

Golem in the Gears                 271

summoned here in the blink of an eye—and the Demon
hadn't even blinked. All watching Grundy. Waiting for
him to perform.

Suddenly he suffered a siege of stage fright. His tongue
seemed to swell up and fill his mouth, and his jaws crys-
tallized. All Xanth was watching!

"Hey, snap out of it!" his double whispered, nudging
him. "You've got to show the winning strategy."

But Grundy stood frozen, overwhelmed by the enor-
mity of it.

"He has no strategy!" an Elf-Hag said to the Demon.
"Dump him in the Brain Coral's pool and send me back
to the surface!"

"Send whom to the surface?" the other Elf-Prince
demanded.

"Who asked you to butt in?" the first replied.
Still Grundy was mute, conscious only of all those eyes
upon him. He knew he was about to default his case and
cost himself everything, but he just couldn't move or speak
while he was the cynosure of this immense and important
gathering.

Then a new voice cut through his self-immolation. "Oh,
Grundy!"

Rapunzel! She was here too—and when he failed, she
would pay the penalty as much as he!

His tongue shrank and his body unfroze. There was
no way he could allow her to suffer like that!

"The object of this demonstration contest is to score
points," he said. "The points vary according to the com-
bination of decisions by the participants. Let's say that
each person gives evidence against the other: in that case
each will score one point."

"One point," one of the Hags said, suddenly paying




272

Golem in the Gears

Golem in the Gears

273

close attention. She wanted to be sure that he had no case
that would satisfy the Demon.

"Now let's say that each person does not give evidence
against the other," Grundy continued. "In that case each
will score three points. They remain even, no advantage
to either."

"Three points," the other Hag said.

"But suppose one prisoner gives evidence, and the
other does not," Grundy concluded. "Then the one who
gives it gets five points—and the other gets no points."

"Definitely!" both Hags agreed, licking their Princely
lips. It was obvious that both intended to score five points.

"I have been losing points," the Demon murmured.
"But that is merely the situation, not the solution. What
is your strategy?"

"Let me show you," Grundy said. "Each of the four
of us—two Golems and two Hags—will match off against
the others. The Hags will of course give nothing away to
anyone—"

"Naturally," the Hags agreed.

"While the other Golem will follow my strategy," he
said. He glanced at the other. "You do know it?"

"Oh, sure. I'm your clone; I know everything you do."

"Good. Now let's do this one at a time, so the Demon
can see clearly what happens. There will be several rounds
to each match, to allow the strategy to manifest as some-
thing other than chance. I will start off."

Grundy approached one of the Hags. He paused. "Oh—
we'll need pieces of paper, and pencils, for—"

Again the Demon didn't blink. Little pads of paper
appeared in each of their hands, and pencils in each of
their other hands.

There was a small stir in the vast audience, and Grundy
saw that each member of it also had a little pad and a

pencil, except for Rapunzel, who had a puncil. Everyone
was keeping score.

Grundy was shaken by another doubt. He had not had
time to work this out thoroughly in his mind. Suppose his
insight was not sound, and his strategy did not produce
victory? Not only would he be confined forever in the
storage lake of the Brain Coral and the Hag be given
access to Rapunzel's body—everyone in Xanth would
know. His humiliation would be complete and eternal.
The golem in the gears, who had the chance to make things
right, and fouled it up.

The very notion made him shiver and sweat. He had
the apprehension of the inevitable, knowing that if any-
thing good were to occur here, it could not be by the
agency of anything as insignificant as a mere golem with
a big mouth. Why was he even trying?

Then he saw Rapunzel watching him. She smiled and
blew him a kiss. She believed in him.

She believed in him.

He might fail himself and fail others, as he had so often
before. But how could he fail her?

"Now each of us will make a mark on our sheets," he
told the Hag. "We shall make a smiley-face for Nice,
meaning that we do not give evidence against the other
prisoner, or a scowl-face for Nasty, meaning that we do
the selfish thing and give the evidence. We each know
that we will both be better off if neither is Nasty, but that
one of us can get way ahead if that one is Nasty when
the other is Nice. But we don't know how the other will
choose. We won't know until we show our faces."

"Get on with it, wretch," the Hag said.

"I am." Grundy marked a big smiley-face on his top
sheet, so that the Hag couldn't see it. Meanwhile she
marked what was surely a scowl-face on hers.




274 Golem in the Gears

"Now we shall show our faces," Grundy said. He turned
his around and held it up so that everyone could see it.
More grudgingly, the Hag showed hers.

It was exactly as he had anticipated. Hers was a scowl.

"Now the Sea Hag has chosen to give evidence," he
said. "I did not. Therefore the Hag scores five points,
and I score none."

There was a muted sigh in the audience. Evidently they
had wanted the Hag to lose.

But the game had just begun. If his strategy was valid...

"Now we shall go to the second round," he said. "We
shall each mark our sheets again."

They did so. Grundy marked a scowl-face.

When they showed their sheets, both of them had
scowls. "This time we match," Grundy said. "Both acted
selfishly, so each of us receives just one point."

"But I'm still ahead of you, Golem!" the Hag said with
satisfaction.

"So it would seem," he agreed. "Now the third round."

They marked their sheets again, and showed them.
Both were scowls. "Another point for each," Grundy said.

"Seven to two, my favor," the Hag gloated. "You aren't
getting anywhere, wretch!"

"Fourth round," Grundy said.

Again they marked their sheets, and showed them.    I
Again both were scowls. "Eight to three," the Hag cack-
led. "Your stupid strategy is just digging you in deeper,
Golem!"                                              j

"Fifth round," Grundy announced grimly. They marked
and showed again, with the same result, making the score
nine to four.

"Sixth and final round," Grundy said. His preliminary
calculation had suggested that this was the crucial point.
He had to trust it.

Golem in the Geon                275

They marked and showed—two scowls. "Ten to five—
I win!" The Hag chortled.

"You win," Grundy agreed grimly. The audience was
deathly quiet.

The Demon's lips twitched.

"But the trial is not over yet!" Grundy exclaimed. "This
is only the first match."

"My matches proceed for eternity," the Demon grum-
bled.

"Precisely," Grundy agreed. "One match is nothing; it
is the totality that counts."

Now he went to the other Hag. "I will now repeat the
encounter with the next opponent," he announced. "Each
of us will mark our faces—" They paused to do so. "And
show them." They did.

The result was the same as before: his smiley-face
against her scowl-face. He was behind by five points.

They played out the remaining five rounds, with similar
effect. The final score was 10-5, Hag's favor. "I like your
strategy, Golem!" She cackled.

"I have now had two matches," Grundy announced.
"I have a total of ten points, while my opponents have
twenty."

The massed score-keepers in the audience nodded
somberly. Their calculations agreed. Only Fracto seemed

pleased, though of course the cloud had no brief for the
Hag.

But Rapunzel still smiled at him, showing her confi-
dence. She, perhaps alone, retained her faith in him. He
hoped it was justified.

He went to his third and final opponent, the other
golem. Both marked their sheets, and showed them. There
were two smiley-faces.

"Each of us has chosen to be Nice," Grundy announced.




Golem in the Gears

276

"Therefore neither has the advantage. Each gets three

points."

They proceeded to the second round. The result was
the same. Then the remaining rounds. In each case, each

scored three points.

The result of this match is a draw, Grundy an-
nounced. "Eighteen to eighteen. I now have twenty-
eight points total, while my opponents have accumulated

thirty-eight."

"So you are out of it," one of the Hags exulted. "One

of us will win!"

"Perhaps," Grundy said. Now they were coming to the
next critical point. If the others acted true to form—

"Let's finish this," the other golem said. "I have still
to match the two Hags."

"Yes," Grundy agreed. "But stick to the strategy."

"Gotcha." The golem went to one Hag and went through
the match—with exactly the same result Grundy had had,
losing ten to five. The wicked glee of the Hags could
scarcely be contained, and the audience was glum indeed.
The Demon looked bored, which was a bad sign.

Now it was time for the final match: Hag vs. Hag.
Each had twenty points, from her tromping of the two

golems.

"Now if you'll just let me have some points—" one

Hag said to the other.

Grundy kept his face straight, but inside he was almost
unbearably tight. His fortune depended on his analysis of
the nature of the Hag. This was the final critical point. If

he had misjudged—"

"Like Hades, you old witch!" the other snapped. "I'm
looking out for Number One!"

"Well, if you feel that way, wartsnoot!" the other
responded. "See what you get from me!"

Golem in the Gears

277

Grundy relaxed. He had judged correctly.

They marked and showed—and naturally each face
was a scowl. One point for each.

Both angered by the seeming betrayal by the other,
they went to the second round—and scowl met scowl
again. One more point for each.

So it continued. When the match was done, the Hags
were tied, six to six.

"Now note the cumulative scores," Grundy said. "Each
Hag has twenty-six, while each Golem has twenty-eight.
The Golems are ahead."

There was a stir of astonishment through the audience,
as the folk checked their scoresheets. Many had not been
keeping them up to date, being certain that the issue was
already decided. The two Hags made shrieks of indig-
nation, and the Demon's sleepy eyes snapped back to full
alertness. Rapunzel clapped her hands with maidenly
delight, her faith vindicated.

"Note that neither Golem ever won a single match,"
Grundy said. "But the final victory must go to a Golem.
The longer this trial continues, the more certain this
becomes. In an eternal trial, this strategy must inevitably
prevail."

The Demon was definitely interested. Curls of vapor
rose from his countenance. "What is that strategy?"

"I call it Tough But Fair," Grundy said. "I start out
positive, but after that I do back to my opponent what-
ever my opponent does to me. So when the Hag gave
evidence against me in the first round, I did it back to
her in the second—and continued until she changed.
Since she never changed, we just kept on getting single
points. When I matched against the other golem, and
he was Nice to me, I was Nice to him in the next round—




278 Golem in the Gears

and continued that way until he changed. Since he didn't
change—"

"But you never won a match!" the Demon protested.

"And the Hags never lost a match," Grundy agreed.
"But the victory does not go to the winner of matches,
but to the scorer of the most total points, which is a
different matter. I made more points tying with the other
Golem than I lost losing to the Hags. Their selfish ways
gave them short-term victories, but cost them the trial."

"A fluke!" a Hag screamed.

"No fluke," Grundy said. "You Hags can't cooperate
with anyone, even your own kind, so you inevitably
lose out to those of us who can. An enlightened coop-
eration is better, in the long run, than short-term self-
ishness." He turned to the Demon. "Now I realize this
is just a simple game, hardly worthy of your notice. But
the principle is sound. You should be able to apply the
same strategy to your complex encounters with other
Demons that are far beyond my understanding. You have
been going for individual victories, and getting some,
but like the Hags you have been losing overall. With
this strategy you can lose matches, and the other Demons
will think they are cleaning up, but inevitably as time
passes—"

Slowly, the Demon smiled.

Then the cave was gone. Grundy was standing alone
beside the Elf Elm. In the distance Stanley Steamer was
lifting his head, getting wind of him.

And Rapunzel, golem-size, was swinging down on a
line—no, it was her own hair, restored to its former
length and splendor. The Demon X(A/N)th, eventually
to be X[A/N]th or even • •X«A/N»th« •, had added a bo-
nus.

Rapunzel landed, and her lovely tresses floated down

Golem in the Gears                 379

about her like a swirling halo as she did a little dance of
joy. She was the most beautiful creature he could have
imagined, and not just in her body. She laughed merrily
as she ran to embrace him.

"Oh, Grundy!" she cried, and the two of them were
lost amid the halo.



