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"In essence, yes."
She nodded. "So you can't travel with a bird like this, without a bodyguard."
"That's right," Hannah said. "But he's a good man."
"And she's a wanton wench," the peeve said.
"Not so," Goody said. "She's a good woman."
Breanna's glance hesitated halfway between them as an odd thought evidently intruded.
"No, we aren't," Hannah said. "We're not each other's types. We have just learned honest respect for each other."
"Yeah, like when you were both jammed together naked in that pool."
"Well, if it comes to misinterpreting images from the past-" Hannah said with studied lack of emphasis.
The bird's beak snapped shut.
"We were escaping a water threat," Goody explained. "The undertoe."
"Of course," Breanna said, too quickly. "I'll ask my husband, Justin Tree, about placing the bird." She turned her head and called. "Dear!"
Soon a man appeared from a back room, carrying a two-year-old child. That would be Justin, who seemed unremarkable. But the child was beautiful, with amber skin and wavy brown hair. When the man set her down, she toddled over to admire the peeve. "Our daughter Amber Dawn," Breanna said proudly.
"Get away from me, you whiskey-skinned brat!"
Justin frowned. "Who spoke?"
"I did, knothead. Are your ears stuffed with sap?"
"It's the bird, dear," Breanna said quickly. "They're looking for a home for it. Do you know of anyone who might appreciate it?"
"Baked under gla.s.s, maybe," he said.
Breanna shook her head. "So I'm afraid not. The zombies wouldn't be bothered by its words, but they don't know how to care for living things."
Little Amber Dawn had not given up on the bird. She held out a translucent stone. "Bug," she said. "In amber."
The parody was interested. It peered at the bug frozen in the translucent heart of the stone. "Looks good enough to eat, tar baby."
"Her talent is making resin that preserves insects," Breanna said. "She has quite a collection of them already."
"What a waste of bugs, blackhead!"
The child turned about and walked to her mother. So much for that acquaintance.
There was a mushy knock on the door. Justin went to open it. He talked briefly with the zombie, then faced back to his wife. "Something odd outside," he said. "I'll go check."
"We'll all go," Breanna said. "Amber hasn't been out today." She picked up her daughter. "I'm sorry we can't help you, but maybe there's someone somewhere who would like that kind of bird."
"And maybe there's a rotten zombie pie in the sky, nightshade."
They trooped outside. And stopped, amazed.
"What in Xanth is that?" Justin asked.
The zombies were standing awkwardly around a small black figure. In a moment Hannah got a look. "That's a robot!"
"A what?"
"A machine man. We saw them on Robot World. They can do things, but aren't alive."
"A type of demon?" Justin asked.
"Not exactly. They're made of metal and wires. We brought a program for one, to make a dragon's nest."
"Simpleton!"
"We must be overlooking something," Hannah said.
Suddenly Goody remembered what had bothered him two chapters ago. "That robot-making device-it remained active as we left. It must have made another robot."
Justin looked sharply at him. "Something is making these things? How do you know it stopped at one or two?"
"They work automatically," Goody said. "They just keep going. It must still be making robots."
Hannah nodded. "I think maybe we had better get back there and turn it off, before we have these things getting underfoot."
"What's this one doing here?" Breanna asked.
They looked more carefully at the robot. It was using a trowel-like extension on its arm to dig a hole in the ground. When it had dug as deep as it could go, it quit, walked a few paces farther, and dug again. There was a small hole in its backside that emitted smoke.
"Metal moron!"
The robot ignored the bird, imperturbably continuing its business.
"It's doing a survey," Justin said. "Looking for something."
"For iron!" Goody said with sudden realization. "They need it to make their bodies."
"That implies intelligence," Justin said. "Or at least some clear directive. They are reproducing their kind."
"Without limit," Hannah said. "Other than their supply of iron. We may already be too late to stop it."
"Why, beast brain?"
"Because if they're actually smart, the first thing they would do is hide their factory," she said. "So we can't can't come and shut it down." come and shut it down."
"That makes uncomfortable sense," Breanna said.
"Bully for you, blot broad!"
A small black cloud formed over Breanna's head. "You know, I could get annoyed at you, bird brain, if I tried."
"Make the effort, zombie lover."
"Just ignore it," Goody said. "It has a high AQ. That is, Annoyance Quotient."
"Not till I put it in its place," Breanna said grimly. She moved her head near the parody. "Say something else, bantam beak." The cloud intensified.
"Go soak your coal-colored caboose! What are you going to do, blacklist me, Stygian schlep?"
A miniature bolt of lightning speared out of the cloud, just missing the bird's foot.
The peeve considered, then kept its beak shut.
"I'll send the zombies out to count robots," Justin said. "That may give us a notion how many are in the vicinity."
"There can't be many," Goody said. "It hasn't been that long since we left the dragons."
"It's been three days," Hannah said. "That first one took only about an hour."
"And their factory may be more efficient now," Justin said.
"And there may be more than one factory," Breanna said. "There could be hundreds of them already."
Worse and worse. But there was a more immediate curiosity. "Why does this one smoke?" Goody asked.
They paused to consider that. "What powers them?" Justin asked. "Magic powers zombies, but this doesn't seem to be using magic. I suspect it is burning wood inside, and using its heat for power, the way they do in Mundania."
"I never thought of that," Hannah said. "Magic things are powered by magic, but humans, goblins, and other living things are powered by the food we eat. The robots' food must be wood."
"I hate that," Justin said. "I was a tree for several decades."
"And it splintered your wits, f.a.got face."
"Unfortunately, there are trees everywhere in Xanth," Hannah said. "So we can't cut off their food."
Justin a.s.sembled the zombies and gave them simple instructions. They dispersed, shambling in random directions. One of them brought a wooden box and pushed the little robot into it for safekeeping. The machine was only ankle tall, so was easy to pick up and carry.
"Meanwhile, come in and have dinner," Breanna said. "It will take them a while to do their business."
They went back inside the castle. A zombie brought a bottle from the castle wine cellar, but Breanna sent it back.
"We don't mean to be choosy," Goody protested.
"That was rot gut," she explained. "Zombie whiskey."
Oh.
The zombie brought another bottle. "This will do," Breanna said. "This is ale, from a local ale-ing tree. They are cousins of the beerbarrel trees." She popped it open and poured foaming gla.s.ses. "This is honey brown ale, because we have bees nearby. We avoid the ones growing near wild oats."
"Oh? Why?" Hannah asked.
"Because men who drink wild oat ale become unduly attractive to nymphs, and attracted to to nymphs," Breanna said tightly. "And women don't like it. The ale, I mean. It tastes cheap." nymphs," Breanna said tightly. "And women don't like it. The ale, I mean. It tastes cheap."
Goody sipped his ale. It was heady stuff.
Breanna poured a smaller gla.s.s. "This is for you, bird brain. Gripe soda."
The bird hesitated, not trusting this.
"It's safe," Breanna said. "Here, I'll sip it first." She did so. "Awful-tasting stuff," she griped.
Rea.s.sured, the parody flapped across to the edge of the table. It dipped its beak into the drink. "Awful!" it agreed, pleased.
"I always hope she'll confuse the bottles," Justin said, smiling.
"It's bad enough when you see those show girls in the forest," Breanna snapped, evidently feeling the effect of her sip of gripe soda.
"Show girls?" Goody asked.
"They are scantily garbed female shapes," Justin said. "That show anyone anything, though not in sufficient detail."
"More than sufficient, jerk!" Breanna said. But her mood was easing. It was clear that she and Justin liked teasing each other.
After the meal the zombie foreman reported: "Zeven roboz in areaz."
"Seven," Justin said seriously. "If there are seven here, how many are there in all of Xanth?"
Hannah frowned. "There could be a hundred."
"You had better stay here tonight," Justin said. "The zombies will verify the count in the morning. Then you can decide what to do."
"Thank you," Goody said. What a development!
He shared a room with Hannah and the parody, by mutual choice. They were accustomed to being together, and he felt safer with her nearby, though surely there was no threat from the zombies.
"Why do I think that we now have a bigger problem than placing the bird?" she asked rhetorically as they settled for the night.
"And it's my fault," Goody said, chagrined.
"It's our our fault. I'm a warrior; I should have picked up on the threat." fault. I'm a warrior; I should have picked up on the threat."
"I saw the first robot factory active as we left, and didn't catch on."
"There is guilt enough to go around. What are we going to do about it?"