Pyra followed him. They emerged from the tunnel and saw the trestle. It was a network of wooden timbers braced in triangles supporting the tracks. A section had been knocked out. The tracks were unbroken, but the weight of the train with its passengers would surely bear it down and dump them all into the abyss. The engineer had been right to call a halt.
"What do we do now?" Pyra asked worriedly.
"We fix it."
She gazed nervously at the destruction. "That's our job?"
"Someone has to do it. You can return to the train if you wish. I'm going after fresh timbers."
That shamed her. "No, I'll help, if I can."
"Let's see what we'll need." He walked to the track above the gap and peered down. "Tooth marks," he said.
"Something bit through the trestles?"
"Something big."
She saw the marks, and the damp ripped edges. Saliva? "I thought the spell protected the tracks."
"The tracks, yes. Evidently it doesn't extend to the base of the trestles. The monsters must be getting smarter. They bit where they could reach, before the train got here."
"A smart monster," she said, chilled.
"Something you should know," he said grimly. "We'll have to go down far enough to replace the fractured planks."
"Yes, of course. We can rope ourselves to the tracks so we won't fall, and swing across."
He nodded. "Good idea. You're smarter than the average tourist."
"Thank you," she said, flattered.
"But that wasn't my point. Where do you think the monster is?"
Now she got it with a vengeance. "Lurking. Waiting for us to get within its reach."
"Exactly. So maybe you had better return to the train after all."
"So you can get chomped alone? That won't get the job done."
He gazed at her, his eyes narrowing in assessment. "This is serious. I can't afford to have an uncertain assistant. If you have any doubts at all, go back now."
She was shamed again, though she knew he wasn't trying to. He naturally assumed she was a weak woman. She had been able to intrigue him before with her womanly charms, but now he was serious about his manly nature. "I can take care of myself. I can't lift heavy planks, but I can fend off the monster."
"Can you?"
She let her fire show. "Yes. I can burn anything. You handle the repairs; I'll keep the monster clear."
He nodded. "So you're not a fraud, like me. You really have magic fire."
"You're not a fraud! You just don't have a magic spark." As she spoke she realized it was true. When the need came, this man was proving to be brave and capable. He had character rather than magic.
Finn shrugged. "I will fetch planks. They are stored nearby near the tunnel. You reassure the children and be ready to use your fire when I get to work below the tracks."
She did that. "There is a break in the trestle," she explained to the children and parents. "We are repairing it. Stay with the train until the job is done."
The engineer got up. "You'll need help."
"You know the nature of the work," she said, keeping her voice calm. She was warning him.
"Yes."
Several parents stood: a daddy and three mommies. "We'll help too."
"I don't think—" Pyra started, taken aback.
A mother gave her a direct look. "You can protect us, fire woman?"
She understood, and had caught on to Pyra's talent. "Yes, I think so. But it may be uncomfortable." She flared her body, radiating heat. "If I have to burn—something."
"We'll risk it," the woman said.
"In that case, the men could use another man to carry and hammer. I could use some good eyes to spot danger early."
"You'll have them."
Soon there was a pile of fresh planks and several coils of rope. Then men anchored themselves to the tracks and swung down to use crowbars and hammers to remove bad planks. When they had the region clear, the women tied ropes around planks and carefully lowered them down to the hanging men. They were all sensible folk, and the work was proceeding far more rapidly than it would have with only one or two.
They swung the first plank into place and hammered it to the base of the tracks. They placed the second, forming a triangle. At this rate it would not take long to shore up the trestle.
There was a horrendous roar. "Monster ahoy!" a lookout woman called.
"Stay well clear of it," Pyra said. "I may have to use a lot of power."
The three men had no time to climb to the tracks. They hung in place, looking grim. They feared they were about to die. Strictly speaking they couldn't die; they would merely lose their soul bodies and return to their larger or smaller soul bodies on their home moons. But that would be an unpleasant and inconvenient process, and death seemed rather real.
The monster appeared: a dinosaur so big that it walked along the bottom of the chasm, its head reaching almost to the tracks. It had to have been the one that had bitten off the trestle. It opened its mouth below the three men, big enough to take them all in, in one gulp.
Pyra pumped up her heat. She focused on the monster's head, and projected her fire there. A glowing sheet formed at the toothy nose, and its surface scales crackled as if being roasted.
It rocked back, howling. The men applauded; they knew good magic when they saw it. Then they got back to work on the timbers.
"It's reconsidering," the lookout woman said.
So it was. A sore was developing on the monster's nose, but that was a tiny wound on such a large surface. The creature was coming in again, this time more cautiously.
Pyra projected another panel of fire, but the monster ducked beneath it, came up beyond it, turned about, and gaped its giant jaws toward the men.
Pyra sent out another panel of flame. This one singed the surfaces of the bared teeth and bored in toward the nerves. The dinosaur snapped its mouth closed and ducked down. "Mmmmm!" it groaned as its roasting teeth continued to hurt.
The men placed another plank. Soon they would be done.
"Coming back," the woman said.
The thing was determined! Pyra readied another panel of fire. She could keep this up as long as it could.
This time the monster pursed its lips and blew directly at Pyra. The gust of wind caught her skirt and boosted her off the tracks. She fell—
Directly into the monster's waiting mouth. The thing had fathomed the nature of its opposition and outsmarted her!
But it had also outsmarted itself. She landed on its tongue—and the flesh scorched as she heated incandescently. The tortured tongue flipped her up and out.
But as she sailed through the air she knew that she would fall far from the trestles, and not be able to defend the men any more. They might be doomed.
"Finn!" she called as she sailed by. "Spark!" She sent ignition as he opened his mouth.
Then she was falling, falling, and had to take care of herself. She heated the air around her so that it expanded explosively, generating cracks of thunder. That hot air cushioned her landing as she came to the floor of the canyon. She was safe.
She walked toward the trestles, hoping to climb back up to the track. That wasn't her concern. What about the men? Could Finn do enough with his flaming breath?
The monster, satisfied that it had eliminated the pesky opposition, opened its mouth and readied a mighty chomp that would take in all three men and the new planks they had installed.
Finn breathed out a devastating column of flame. It shot into the monster's mouth and down its throat. "HOOOOO!" it cried, truly in pain. In a big, in fact a monster moment, it turned tail and ran, surely for the nearest underground lake for quenching.
The women applauded again. Finn had saved the day.
By the time Pyra climbed to the tracks, the men had finished their job. The trestle had been repaired and was ready for the train. She walked toward the train, brushing herself off. She was hopelessly mussed.
"Pyra!" Finn cried, spying her. "I owe it al
l to you. You gave me fire. You're wonderful."
"Well, I wanted to see the job finished," she said gruffly. She realized that sounded ungracious, but she wasn't sure how to correct it. She wasn't used to being complimented, especially when mussed.
"I think I love you."
That stalled whatever else might have been on her mind. She stood there, having no idea what to say. The very notion was ludicrous. She couldn't possibly return the feeling.
Then he kissed her.
Her knees melted, but she didn't collapse because he was holding her. Tiny burning hearts formed and orbited their heads. They set fire to the notion "ludicrous" and destroyed it like an ugly monster.
"Is that how they signal the stork?" a child's voice asked. Pyra realized belatedly that the trainful of children was watching.
"Hush, child," the mother cautioned. "She hasn't even shown him her panties."
Indeed she hadn't, Pyra realized, blushing at the suggestion. What had she so suddenly gotten into?
"I shouldn't have done that," Finn said apologetically as he led her to the train. "I thought the monster was going to chomp us. Then you gave me the spark, and made me look like a hero. You're such a wonderful woman in every way."
"I'm nothing of the kind! I'm a hot-tempered scheming hussy!" Of course now the parents and children were listening to their dialogue as the train started, but she no longer cared.
"Are you? Then you would do well at Always-Always Planet. Why don't you stay here with me? I won't need a spark if you are here."
"I can't. I have other things to do."
"You have to find the children, of course. But after that?"
The most astonishing thing was that she found herself tempted. Finn had proved to be a brave and capable man, and he did need her. She could do worse, much worse. Of course there was that elixir-inspired fixation she had on Che Centaur, but she had already concluded that was no good. This was a worthy alternative.
But there were complications. "I am not of this world."
"None of us are," he said. "We're all workers or tourists. Children come from all the Worlds of Ida to be entertained here."
"I'm from Xanth."
He stared, and the children and parents murmured in awe. "You're a real person? Not a might-have-been?"
"I'm real," she agreed. "My body lies in a vault while I search here."
Finn sighed. "I should have known you were too good to be true. Of course you won't give up your real existence for a might-be life."
Now that he was seeing reality, she found herself warming to unreality. "Is this really what you want to do with your life? Put on fire-eating shows?"
He smiled ruefully. "No. It's just what I can do. Or could do, when I had the spark. My real passion is to be a sculptor and work with colored stone."
"Oh, are you good at that?"
"No, I have no sculpting talent at all. It's just my foolish dream."
"To the left," the engineer announced as the train pulled out of the canyon, "is the famed Ogre Orchard." Pyra looked and saw the shaggy huge ogres tending stony fruit trees. "Those fruits are pummelgranites, good for practice fracturing stone."
She had dreamed foolishly of snatching a centaur from his loving mate. Finn's dream was better than hers. He was not daunted by her fire; he liked it. "Suppose you were on an island in a swamp with nothing much to do all day, and only me for company?"
"With you for company there would never be nothing much to do," he said gallantly.
The children laughed. They were finding this far more entertaining than the sights the train tour was showing. "He really likes her," one said. "She likes him too," another said. "Maybe if we're real quiet they'll forget we're here and will signal the stork," a third said. "Yeah!" they all said, while the parents were suitably horrified.
Pyra forged back to the subject. "I meant the sculpting. Would you be satisfied to do that all the time?"
"Between kisses?"
She had to laugh. "Yes."
"Would you give me all I wanted?"
She pretended to misunderstand. "All the colored stone?"
He pretended to believe that. "And all the kisses."
Decision was coming upon her. "Yes."
"Then there would not be time for sculpting."
The children laughed gleefully, carrying the parents along. Pyra knew she should be embarrassed, but the idea of being with a man that hungry for her kisses appealed.
"There are ways for might-be folk to come to Xanth," she said. "I have a friend who knows how to form empty bodies from organic material. Then the soul from the moon comes and animates it. Xanth was repopulated with dragons that way not long ago. You could do it too, if you wanted to."
There was a murmur of awe through the train. All of the parents and children longed for exactly such an avenue. But it had to be carefully arranged, so most of them would never make it. That was their tragedy.
"I want to," he said without hesitation.
"Then consider it a date." She kissed him, and the children and parents applauded. This time the fiery orbiting hearts were twice their prior size and intensity.
The train completed its round. The engineer talked with his supervisor as the children unloaded. "These guards saved the train. A smart monster chomped out a trestle, but they organized repairs and used fire to drive it away. They're heroes."
"Then they have a job here," the supervisor said.
"No, she's real, and she's taking him with her."
The supervisor turned on them a look of unadulterated envy. "Good for them." Then he peered more closely at Pyra. "You're right; she's real. We don't get many of those here."
But they had not yet found the children. Pyra approached the supervisor. "Have you seen three demon or half-demon children here in the past two hours, ages ten ten and five?"
"Multitudes. But I take it you mean from Xanth."
"Yes. They are real children, though perhaps ensorceled."
"Ensorcellments don't work here. Their souls would form their real selves. There have been none from Xanth."
She was satisfied with his verdict. "Thank you."
"Any time you want to serve as guard again, you'll have a free ticket."
She laughed. "I earned it!"
"You did. We'll put guards with flamethrowers on the trestle bridge. We don't want to lose any more children."
She could appreciate why.
She returned to Finn and joined him in his fire booth for a few more kisses and half a smooch, so he wouldn't forget their agreement. "Remember, check every so often for a body that looks approximately like you. When you find it, animate it. It will then assume your perfect likeness, and I will take you away to my island." She paused. "It's not really an island, it's a circular mesa in a swamp. We'll have to wade through the swamp to get there. The swamp is made from love elixir."
"It won't have any effect," he assured her. He was probably right: he was already smitten. So was she.
She walked toward the exit. It was time to recover her body and report that the children were not in her sector. She was almost relieved; she had done her best, without having to make any difficult ethical decision with respect to the children. Instead she had perhaps found a solution to her social dilemma.
13
Guilt Trip
Surprise Golem conjured herself to the edge of her segment and started searching. She really appreciated the way the others were pitching in, including even the stork and the peeve; it made the search so much more competent. She suspected that they needed all the competence they could garner, and more, because the Sorceress Morgan le Fey was not about to make it easy for them.
And if they failed to find the children, what would Surprise do? What could she do, except make the awful bargain the Sorceress demanded? Either way, something invaluable would be lost. She couldn't stand to sacrifice either the children or her baby. Yet she might have to choose between them. She did not know which way she would go.
She
could fly if she chose, but concluded that walking was better; she wouldn't overlook anything on the ground. The children might be anywhere, in any form; only a tediously careful search could be sure of locating them. So she walked, and used her magic to make X-ray vision so she could see through trees and rocks, covering a wider swath.
This section of Xanth seemed to be deserted. She encountered no people, animals, or unusual plants; this was a purely routine quiet forest. That itself might be suspicious; why were the usual monsters and pun formations absent? Had the Sorceress somehow cleaned out the region? Why?
She saw something she could readily have missed: a crevice in the ground. It was only a finger-width wide, but quite deep, and it extended in a zigzag manner as far as she could see to left and right. She peered down it with her X-ray eyes, but saw only the parallel walls extending down. She picked up a thin stick and poked it into the opening, and it did not touch the bottom. How could it be so long and deep, yet so narrow?
She knew of only one crevice of that nature: the Gap Chasm. That was not very far from the Golem residence; she had often visited it in her own reality. This must be an offshoot, maybe one that didn't exist in her own frame. Was the difference significant? She could not afford to assume that it wasn't.
She followed the crack north, toward the main chasm. Sure enough, it soon widened, like a river wending its way down toward the sea. It became wide enough for a person to fit in, and still too deep to fathom. Could the children have wandered here, and fallen in? That didn't seem likely; they were active and often obnoxious, but not foolish. Also, as full or part demons they had some demon powers, and could float when they put their minds to it. Still, they were insatiably curious, especially about significant natural features. They might have followed it, and entered it where they had opportunity.
And if they followed it far enough, they could wind up in the Gap Chasm itself. Of course they knew Stanley Steamer, the Gap Dragon; he was no threat to them. Or was he?
She paused in place. In this reality she was married to Epoxy Ogre and had no soul. Umlaut was married to Benzine Brassie, and had no soul either. Why should the Gap Dragon be any child's friend in such a reality?
Xanth 30 - Stork Naked Page 24
