Sammy jumped off the path and scrambled back through the thick brush. For once Jenny was glad for that; she didn't want him getting caught by that dreadful thing!
They came to a region of larger but more peaceful trees, and it was easier going here, because the thick leaf cover above shaded the ground and there wasn't much brush. Sammy slowed to a fast walk, but didn't stop moving; she could keep up but not catch him. She would just have to follow until he found what he was looking for this time, and then see what to do next. She was tired, but still had no choice; she just couldn't let Sammy get even worse lost alone.
As she hurried along, she thought about how she had come to this weird region. She was just an ordinary girl of her holt, nothing special at all. In fact she was unspecial, because she just couldn't see well; without sending she would have been in constant trouble. She liked to paint and weave and make jewelry, and was learning how to decorate pottery. Those hearthside skills did not suffer from her myopia. She hoped to grow up to be a good weaver, making rugs of special beauty with designs and pictures that every elf would want. She also liked to make berry pie, mainly because she liked to eat it so much. The main problem there was all the time it took to pick the berries, because the berry patches close to the village were all picked out and she had to range fairly far afield, and that was hard because she was lost the moment she strayed from the main paths. She couldn't count the times she had had to call for help, mentally, just to find the path again. When she got a wolf friend she would be able to go out farther, more safely. For now, she had her cat friend instead, and she could do her hearthside practicing. Her fingers were long and nimble, but she still had a lot of skill to develop. While she practiced with these things, alone, she liked to sing to herself. She always stopped when any other elf was near enough to hear, of course. But Sammy liked it, and that was most of what counted.
She had gone out looking for berries in the cool morning, with Sammy. The cat had seemed bored; the truth was, he wasn't much interested in berries. "If I had a feather, I'd tickle your whiskers," Jenny said teasingly. Then the cat had taken off, and she had known she had to follow, no matter what, because when he got into one of his moods and set out in pursuit of something, he didn't stop until he found it. She had no idea how far the chase was to take him, this time!
He had cut through a section of the forest she was unfamiliar with. It was said to be haunted, but she doubted it; spirits normally didn't waste time with simple trees. Mainly she was afraid of poisonous serpents or other hungry wild things that would be lurking to gobble Sammy or her. Yet she had to keep going, lest Sammy be lost.
She ran and ran, her vision blurring as she struggled to keep up. All she saw was Sammy's fleeting tail, and bits of scenery whizzing by. She was better at seeing motion than things; otherwise she wouldn't have had a chance to stay near Sammy. Then, suddenly, the cat went over a ridge, and she followed, and discovered that there was no other side to it. She flailed in air for a moment, too scared to scream. Then her feet touched ground again; it had only been a slight drop, shrouded by fog. She ran on, still barely keeping the cat in sight.
But now the scenery was strange. She didn't have time to stop and examine it closely, but she knew this wasn't like anything she had seen before. She would have to come to this forest some time when she wasn't chasing her cat to see just what there was about it that was so different.
Sammy skirted an odd green tree. Jenny ran by it—and the tentacles snapped up and tried to grab her. One hung on to her flaring dress, and as she tried to pull free others grabbed her, but she drew her knife and sliced the awful green things and was able to pull free. Unfortunately, her knife got caught in the last tentacle, and she lost it. That was her first experience with the aggressive tree, and the confirmation that she had wandered into a very strange region.
Then Sammy scampered into a clearing in the forest and stopped. He had finally found what he was looking for: a big white feather.
"You dragged me all the way here for a stupid feather?" she demanded, not really angry with him, but having to exclaim about something to someone before she burst. The truth was that she was frightened by the strangeness of this region, and still shaken by the way that tree had grabbed for her. She had never even heard of a kind of tree that did that! But now she realized that this business had started with her, because she had teased Sammy about tickling him with a feather. He had oriented on "feather" and gone in search of one—and what a feather he had found!
A shadow had descended, and the amazing animal-bird-lady came down. She seemed almost as surprised to see Jenny as Jenny was to see her. She said she was a checked centaur, or something, and talked about elms. Jenny learned that an elm was a tree; she wasn't sure why the centaur thought she should have something to do with it.
The centaur lady was looking for her lost foal, called Chay. But Jenny hadn't learned any more, because Sammy had suddenly taken off again, and she had had to follow. She hoped it wasn't going to get even stranger, because she wasn't at all sure she could find their way back as it was.
Now Sammy slowed. Maybe he was approaching what he sought. Maybe it was another feather, and she could carry it for him, and they could go home. No, not another feather, because he never looked for the same thing twice in a row. Maybe a—
Jenny paused, amazed. There ahead of them was a little winged centaur! That must be the foal! The centaur lady had said she was looking for it, and Sammy had taken off to find it, just like that.
But the poor thing hadn't just wandered away. He was a captive. There was a rope around his neck, and his hands were tied behind his back, and his legs were hobbled so that he could hardly stand. He was fluttering his wings helplessly, and he looked very unhappy. That was all Jenny needed to see; she knew she had to help Chay get back to his mother.
However, there were mean creatures around the foal. They looked a bit like people and were her own size, but their heads, hands and feet were larger and knobby. They were dark, and their scowls were darker. There were three of them, evidently guarding the foal. They weren't doing anything to him, but it was obvious that they would if he made any real effort to escape.
Jenny put her hand on Sammy's back. He had paused, satisfied not to go farther now that he had spotted what he had come for. "We have to rescue Chay from those mean folk," she whispered. "I could untie him, so he could run, but they'd only tie me up too. I wish I had something to make them go away, just long enough!"
Sammy took off. "No!" she whisper-cried. "I didn't mean for you to—" But of course it was too late, as it always was with Sammy. When would she learn not to speak carelessly when he was listening?
Well, there was no help for it. She had to follow him, though it delayed whatever action she might take to free the foal. Maybe that wasn't too much of a loss, because she had no idea how to free him. Still, she hardly needed distractions right now!
Sammy led her to a tree. It had bright green leaves and bright red berries. Berries? No, those were cherries! It was a cherry tree. But she was in no mood to eat right now.
"What possessed you to come here, when I said I needed something to make the mean little men go away?" she asked the cat, knowing he couldn't answer.
He merely stood by the tree, ignoring it now that he had found it. His joy was in the search; once he found whatever he sought, he usually did ignore it.
Perplexed, she reached up to pluck a cherry. It was round and red, but evidently not ripe, because its skin was hard, not soft. She touched her teeth to it, but could not dent it. The thing was like a wooden ball!
She plucked another. It was just as bad. These couldn't be real cherries. Maybe they were there just to fool hungry people—and she was a hungry person, even though she didn't want to eat at the moment.
Suddenly she was angry. Not only did she not want to eat, these cherries would be no good if she did want to! She hurled the two as far away from her as she could. They arced past the trees and came to the ground.
&
nbsp; Boom! Boom!
Jenny stared. The two cherries hadn't bounced or rolled, they had exploded! There were two small craters in the ground where they had hit, and dirt and leaves were scattered around.
Amazed, she looked at the tree. Cherries that exploded?
And she had tried to bite into one! Suppose it had exploded when—
Then something clicked in her head. Sammy had led her here, and maybe this was why. What would happen if she threw a cherry at the mean men?
Jenny smiled. She did not regard herself as a mean person, but she thought maybe she could be mean for just a short time if she tried.
She gathered a number of cherries and put them carefully—very carefully!—in her pockets. She carried two in her hands, too. Then she walked quietly back to where she had seen the mean men. She hoped they hadn't heard the two explosions. The cherry tree was some distance away, so maybe they hadn't.
She was in luck: the party remained exactly as it had been before. The mean men seemed to be waiting for something, and of course the foal couldn't do anything.
Now she had to plan this carefully. She had to drive off the men, then run down and untie the foal so he could run away. His mother had talked to her, so probably he could too. She would tell him what she was doing. With luck, he would get away before the mean men knew what happened.
Jenny was scared, but that didn't stop her. She just had to rescue that foal!
She nerved herself, clenched her teeth, and hurled a cherry bomb down toward the party. She had a pretty good arm, and now she could really see where she was throwing. She aimed it so that the cherry wouldn't actually hit anyone, just land nearby.
It worked perfectly. The bomb exploded right behind one of the mean men. He jumped right off the ground, his stubby legs running while he was still in the air. He thought somebody was attacking him—which was the general idea.
Jenny threw another bomb. This one detonated behind one of the other men, and he ran off too. It was such a joy to see what she was doing! The foal was also alarmed, but he couldn't run, because of the hobble, so he just stood there looking scared.
Jenny dug a bomb out of her pocket and threw it behind the third mean man. He was already running away, and this made him run faster. In a moment all three were gone.
Jenny ran down to the foal. "Don't be frightened, Chay!" she called. "I'm here to help you!" Of course he was frightened, but maybe this made him less so.
She reached him, panting. "Let me untie your hands!" she gasped. "I don't know how much time we have!"
She worked on the knot, but it was very tight. She was good with knots, but knots were ornery things, and it just wasn't possible to rush it. Slowly it came undone.
But that was only the hands. She still needed to do the hobbles on his legs. "Oh, I wish I had a knife to cut these!" she exclaimed as she wrestled with the second ornery knot.
Sammy took off. But he stopped in a moment, by something on the ground. Jenny looked. It was a knife, dropped by one of the fleeing men! She hurried over to get it, and used it to saw through first one hobble rope, and then the other.
But then a mean man returned. "What's this?" he cried.
No, it wasn't a mean man; the voice was too high. It was a mean woman! She was a lot prettier than the men, with head and hands and feet much smaller, but of the same species, maybe. "Run, Chay!" Jenny cried.
The little centaur took an unsteady step. It was hard for him to move well after being hobbled.
"I'll help you!" Jenny said. She put her arms around his body where it changed from colt to boy, trying to steady him and urge him forward.
"An elf!" the mean woman exclaimed, swirling her great dark tresses about in a no-nonsense manner. "Well, we'll put a stop to this!" She waved a wand, and suddenly the foal and Jenny were lifted into the air.
"Eeeek!" Jenny screamed, totally startled.
"It's her magic wand," the foal said. "We can't escape."
For a moment Jenny was startled back into a normal state. "You can talk!"
"Well, I'm five years old." "But you look less than one year old," she said, peering more closely at him.
"We centaurs age at the human rate, or maybe faster for the winged ones, because of our avian heritage. I think I'm about your age, in relative terms."
"Three hands? But you're not even half grown yet!"
"Hands?"
Jenny showed her spread four fingers, three times. "Each finger a year," she explained.
"Oh, that's right. You're an elf. I mistook you for full human." Then, after a pause: "Four fingered hands?"
Jenny looked down. "This is interesting, and we really must talk some more. But right now we have to get away from that mean woman!"
"That's Godiva Goblin. We can't get away from her as long as she has the magic wand."
"Magic wand?" Jenny was beginning to understand the problem.
Below, Sammy heard and walked toward the woman, his tail twitching ominously.
"No!" Jenny cried, afraid of what would happen to the cat if he attacked this mean creature.
"Don't tell me no," Godiva said. "I will keep you suspended until you tell me what the elves have to do with this. Where's your elm?" As she spoke, she lowered the wand, and Jenny and the foal came down to float just barely out of reach of the ground.
"I don't know anything about an elm!" Jenny protested.
Then Sammy leaped. He caught the wand in his mouth and tore it out of the woman's grasp.
Jenny and the foal dropped abruptly to the ground.
"Come back with that!" the woman exclaimed angrily. Her long hair swirled around her body as she turned.
Sammy had snatched the wand, after Jenny mentioned it, and now the lady goblin couldn't use it against them!
"Find somewhere safe!" Jenny called to the cat. "Run! Follow that cat!" she cried to the foal.
The little centaur moved faster than before, the kinks working out of his legs. He began to trot. Jenny ran alongside, her eyes on Sammy. It wouldn't do them much good if Sammy found somewhere safe, but they couldn't find him!
Now the male goblins were returning. "Moron! Idiot! Imbecile!" the woman screamed. "Catch them! Get the wand back!"
But the cat was moving swiftly, and the centaur was gaining speed. They got a lead before the goblins got organized.
Sammy, with something new to find, forgot the wand. It dropped from his mouth. Jenny saw it, and swooped it up. "Maybe this will stop them!" she said, turning to wave it at the goblins.
Nothing happened. "You can't use it," the centaur said. "It's attuned to Lady Godiva and won't work for anyone else."
"Well, I'll keep it anyway so she can't use it against us," Jenny said, and ran on.
They plowed through more jungle, running as fast as they could. But the goblins kept after them. Every time the mean men slowed, the mean woman screamed at them and made them speed up again.
Jenny's breath was rasping. She was used to walking a lot and to hurrying after Sammy, but this was headlong running, and she had already been tired from the prior chases. She couldn't keep this up much longer!
Then they came to a river. It wasn't the biggest river Jenny had ever heard of, but it wasn't the smallest either. It was a good stretch across it. She knew how to swim, but she wasn't sure about the foal, and she was so tired that she really didn't want to try it.
But Sammy came up to a square log raft tied beside the river. What a relief!
Sammy jumped onto the raft. Jenny jumped on after him, and the foal after her. Quickly she untied the rope, then lifted the pole and shoved the raft out into the water.
The goblins burst upon them, but stopped at the waterline.
Jenny poled frantically, but the raft moved with agonizing slowness. "Oh, they can swim right across to us!" she gasped, dismayed.
"No, they can't," the centaur said.
"But it's only a little distance!"
He pointed to a ripple in the water. Suddenly a slipper bobbed to the surface.
"Water moccasins," he said.
"But that looks like a shoe!" she pointed out.
"It is a shoe—but it bites the toes of any footed creature it catches."
Now she saw that inside the moccasin, where the toes would fit, there were sharp white teeth. The tongue curled, slurping around the edge. She wouldn't want to put her foot in that!
The goblins seemed just as reluctant to trust their feet to the water. Several water moccasins were waiting, licking their rims. This was after all a safe place, in its dangerous way!
The current took the raft, moving it downstream. Jenny relaxed, not having to pole anymore. "What river is this?" she asked. "Do you happen to know?"
"I believe it is the With-a-Cookee River," the centaur said. "I heard the goblins say they wanted to avoid it."
"With a cookie?" she asked. "What an odd name! Why would anyone call a river something like that?"
"It might be because of the cookies," he replied, pointing.
She looked, and saw toadstools growing on the bank. But as the raft drifted closer, she saw that they were indeed cookies, or something with a very similar appearance. She reached out and took one, fearing that it would be no more edible than the cherries had been, but it turned out to be what she called a sandie, sugary and crisp. She sat on the raft and ate the rest of it, savoring it.
The centaur picked one himself and tasted it. "Very sweet," he commented. "That's probably because of the sugar sand."
"The what?" "The sugar sand. It is found throughout much of Xanth, and is excellent for growing sweets. Sometimes I eat it straight, but my dam doesn't like that."
"But sand isn't sweet!" she protested.
He glanced at her, surprised. "You, an elf, do not know of sugar sand?"
"There is no such thing, Chay!"