Crewel Lye by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page A

return?”
    “Only an arm and a leg,” it replied.
    “Well, I'm not interested, leave me alone, or--”
    “That's what I'm trying to do! Leave you a loan. I'm a loan shark.”
    “I don't care if you're a lone shark or a hundred sharks, I don't want to see your green back near me! Take off, or I'll lop off your fin.”
    The thought of losing its finback discouraged the fish, and it swam rapidly away.
    But the pooka was having more trouble. Three of the fins, red, blue, and yellow, were circling him hungrily, and he was mudded down in the bog. He slogged through the slough toward the west wall. But now I could see that it was a wall of fire. That was no good!
    I forged toward him, waving my sword to scare away the fish. “Move off,” I cried at them, “Or I'll saw your bucks in half.” The fish hesitated, not wanting to experience this sawbuck. But the pooka saw my waving weapon and was scared away himself. He plunged for the firewall. “No, wait!” I cried. “I'm trying to help you!”
    But he continued, more afraid of me than of either the fins or the firewall, and soon he reached the latter. Now the heat stopped him. He couldn't pass that fire, but the fish hemmed him in behind. The red and blue fins were spiraling closer; the yellow, more fearful, circled farther out.
    The pooka wrenched a forefoot out of the bog and struck at the red fin, but the effort mired the other three legs deeper. He was in real trouble! I shoved toward him, and now he couldn't flee me. But I wasn't sure how I could save him, let alone capture him.
    The blue shark forged in at the pooka's side and tried to take a bite; its teeth crunched on chains. I saw little sparks fly up as enamel met metal; that must have hurt! The fish retreated, but did not depart.
    Now at last I got there. The pooka was afraid of me, but so badly mired he couldn't move. “Look, Pook,” I said. “All I want is to ride you. When I get where I'm going, I'll let you go. It's not a fate worse than death! And death is what you'll get here. If you don't drown, the sharks will skin you alive. Wouldn't you rather travel with me?”
    The pooka just looked at me as if I were halfway tetched. I'm not sure he understood me. Animals vary in Xanth, some are smarter than people, but most are not. Maybe my voice reassured him, that and the fact that I wasn't trying to kill him. Maybe he was just so mired he couldn't budge.
    The red fin launched itself at me. I chopped at it with my blade, severing the fin from the body exactly as I had warned the greenback I would, and this redneck swam raggedly away. Now the water was red, too!
    But the blood attracted more fins. From all over the bog they converged, the colored light reflecting in what someone in a less precarious situation might have considered pretty. “Pook, we're in trouble!” I said. I slogged right up against him. He tried to flinch away from me, but could not. I climbed on his back, and my weight shoved him deeper into the muck. Then the first fin arrived; I lashed at it with my sword and cut it off the fish. Immediately six other sharks pounced on the wounded one and tore it to pieces. An arm and a leg? These monsters were out for anything they could get!
    Another came at us, and I served it likewise--and so did its companions. And a third. Supported as I was, I could reach a full circle with my sword. Not one fin got close enough to bite before being severed. Soon the muck around us was a morass of gore.
    After a time, so many sharks had been eaten that the remaining ones were gorged. The circle of fins widened and fell apart; they were no longer interested in us. As I have said, brute force and swordplay may not be the answer to every problem, but there are times when they are good enough.
    The pooka was now up to his shoulders in muck. Before long the stuff would reach his head, and he would drown in dirty blood. I had to do something!
    “Look, Pook,” I told him. “I'm on your side. I want to help you. I