Harpy Thyme by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page A

“Hello,” she said with a timid little tremor. “Did you call?”
    “Why, hello, winsome little winged goblin girl; you must be Gloha,” he said. “Yes, I called; I thought you might be able to help us. I'm King Emeritus Trent.” Then, perhaps assuming that she wouldn't recognize the name: “Ivy's grandfather.”
    “Oh!” Gloha said with a squeamish little squeak. “I thought you had faded away.”
    “Not quite,” Trent said. “We four grandparents are going to visit Esk's grandparents for a fade-out party. But we seem to have lost our way.”
    “You four? Where are the others?”
    Trent turned his face back. “Hey, Sorceress, lift the veil,” he called. “We have a visitor: Gloha Goblin-Harpy.”
    Immediately the cabin vanished. There sat three other old folk on plates: two women and a man.
    “Uh, hello,” Gloha said again with a certain awed little awkwardness.
    “My wife the Sorceress Iris,” Trent said. One of the old women became a beautiful young woman with a shining silver crown and button-bursting bodice. Except that it was laced, not buttoned, so she was a lace-lashing lady.
    “So nice to meet you, Gloha,” the sorceress said dulcetly, with a grand nod of her head.
    “My friend Bink, Ivy's other grandfather,” Trent said. The other old man became a handsome medium-young man in halfway casual clothing. He nodded.
    “And last and least, his wife Chameleon, in her stupid phase,” Trent concluded.
    The other woman did not change. Gloha saw now that she was old but amazingly lovely; she needed no magical enhancement, despite being in ordinary garb. For now Gloha remembered from her history lessons that the Sorceress Iris' talent was illusion; she could make anyone or anything look any way she wanted. But Chameleon didn't seem to need illusion. Gloha hadn't believed that anyone that old could look that good.
    “We hope you can help us, Gloha,” Chameleon said. “We seem to have lost our way.”
    That was so obvious that it needed no restatement Then Gloha remembered the thing about Chameleon: she changed with the moon, becoming beautiful and stupid, then ugly and smart. So she couldn't be counted on to speak intelligently.
    Something Trent had said registered. “You're going to see Esk's grandparents? Why, so are we! I'm with Tandy, who knows the way.”
    “What a fortunate coincidence,” Queen Iris said. She sent a curiously significant side glance at Bink. “You and Tandy must join us and show us the route.”
    “Oh, I'm sure we'll be glad to,” Gloha agreed. “Let me go tell Tandy!” She darted away before belatedly realizing that this might be impolite. After all, if she remembered her history lessons correctly, all of them had been kings of Xanth at one time or another. But it was too late to correct her lamentable little lapse, so she just flew on.
    In a moment she found Tandy, who had continued walking. “There are four-they want to-same place we're going-it's a coincidence,” she said breathlessly or perhaps witlessly.
    Tandy questioned her on the several pieces of her statement, and managed to fathom the general little gist. “That is a coincidence,” she agreed. “For such a party to get lost right where we were going-there must be magic involved.”
    “Oh, yes, the Sorceress Iris is spreading illusion all around,” Gloha agreed.
    They reached the mud slide. The cabin was back on top of it, hiding the three, but King Trent remained in his handsome younger form. “And to what do we owe the honor of your presence here in the wilderness?” he inquired of Tandy.
    “Gloha is looking for the Good Magician's second son, and I thought my father Crombie might point out the direction,” Tandy replied.
    “Oh, Humfrey is involved in this,” Trent said, as if that had great significance. “Well, if you will show us the route, we shall give you a ride on Swiftmud here.” He indicated the bank of mud on which his plate sat.
    “I would rather ride than walk,” Tandy agreed.