Ogre, Ogre (Xanth 5)

Ogre, Ogre (Xanth 5) by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online Page A

Book: Ogre, Ogre (Xanth 5) by Piers Anthony Read Free Book Online
Authors: Piers Anthony
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy, Epic
found a deserted harpy nest in a tree, long since weathered out, so that the filth and smell were gone. He harvested a blanket from a blanket bush and used it to line the nest. This was for Tandy to sleep in. It took her some time to catch on, but as darkness loomed across the land in the grim way it had in the wilderness, and the nocturnal noises began, she was glad enough to clamber to it and curl up in it. He noted that she was good at climbing, though she hardly seemed to know what a tree was. He settled down below, on guard.
    Tandy did not sleep immediately. Curled in her nest, she talked. Apparently this was a human trait. "You know, Smash, I've never been out on the surface of Xanth on foot before. I was raised in the caverns, and then I rode a nightmare to the Good Magician's castle. That was an accident; I really wanted to go to Castle Roogna to see my father, Crombie. But dawn came too soon, and I was out of sleeping pills, and--well, I sort of had to ask a Question so as to have a nice place to stay until I figured out what to do. I spent a whole year working inside the castle; I never even set foot beyond the moat, because I was afraid a certain party would be lurking for me. So it's not surprising I don't know about things like rolling hills and tangle trees."
    That explained a lot. Smash realized he would have to watch her more closely, to be sure she did not walk into a lethal trap. The Magician's rationale for having her travel with him was making more sense. She certainly could not safely travel alone.
    "I'm sorry I distrusted you. Smash," she continued in her talkative way. "You see, I was raised near demons, and in some ways you resemble a demon. Big and strong and dusky. I was prejudiced."
    Smash grunted noncommittally. He had not met many demons, but doubted they could powder rock in the manner of ogres.
    "I certainly have a lot to learn, don't I?" she continued ruefully. "I thought trees were sweet plants and ogres were bad brutes, and now I know they aren't."
    Oops. "Ogre. No--grrr!" Smash exclaimed emphatically.
    Tandy was quick to catch on; she had the ready intelligence of her kind. "You mean I shouldn't trust all ogres? That they really do gobble people?"
    "Ogres prone to crunch bone," Smash agreed.
    "But you didn't--I--mean--" she grew doubtful.
    "Smash work hard, girl to guard."
    "Oh, you mean because the Good Magician charged you with my protection," she said, relieved. "Your service for your Answer. So ogres do gobble people and crunch bones, but they also honor their obligations."
    Smash didn't follow all of the vocabulary, but it sounded about right, so he grunted assent.
    "Very well. Smash," she concluded. "I'll trust you, but will be wary of all other ogres. And all other things of Xanth, too, especially if they seem too nice to be true."
    That was indeed best. They lapsed into sleep.
    No one bothered them in the night. After all, the nightmares had to be wary of Tandy, after she had ridden one of them, and he wasn't sure whether the mares knew how to climb trees. As for himself --it was always the best policy to let a sleeping ogre lie.
    They breakfasted on sugar sand and cocoa-nut milk. Tandy had never before drunk cocoa and was intrigued by the novelty. She was also amazed by the way Smash literally shoveled the sugar into his mouth, hardly pausing to chew, and crunched up whole cocoa-nuts, husks and all. "You really are a monster," she said, half admiringly, and Smash grunted agreement, pleased.
    Then they resumed their trek south, encountering only routine creatures. A toady was hopping north, looking for some important person to advise ; when told that Castle Roogna was many days of hopping distant, it contorted its broad and warty mouth into a scowl. "I hope I don't croak before I get there," it said, and moved on. Croaking, it seemed, was bad form for toadies.
    Then there was the quack, with a wide bill and webbed feet and a bag of special magic medicines. He was, he explained,

Similar Books

Visions of Gerard

Jack Kerouac

One Hot Summer

Norrey Ford

Tangled Webs

Anne Bishop

If All Else Fails

Craig Strete

Divine Savior

Kathi S. Barton