Golem in the Gears Read online

  “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. 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 reoriented. 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 spiderweb 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 Rapunzel 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, intercepting 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 understanding all languages, he had spoken and understood none. No wonder Snortimer hadn’t responded—Grundy had been spouting gibberish.

  “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 neutralize 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 am 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. “Then I’m going to sting your wretched friends. When Rapunzel sees them all die, and knows she is alone forever, 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 difference, 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 lake. It dived 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 I 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 sta
rtled 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 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 community there.”

  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 Stanley’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.

  “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 community 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 bothered a dragon; those foolish enough to try had been culled out of the realm of the living in the course of many centuries. They made a nest of pillows to sleep on, and Stanley 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 suppose 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 foolishness.” 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 reprovingly. “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.”

  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.”

  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 thickening 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 d
ue 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 quickly. “Because one of our number is of elven derivation.”

  “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 Rapunzel, 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 brow 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.