Pet Peeve Part 47

"They're still there?"

"Hannah has been without a man for a long time, and it seems he is indefatigable."

"Tristan made a working, um, device?"

"Tristan made an approximate one. Then Pewter changed its reality, following some sort of treatment described on the Mundane Outernet to make it bigger and harder. It surely works."

"Will it fool the storks?"

"Oh, I should think so." She kissed him. "Why this interest in them, when you've got me?"

They had had a remarkable night, but her words alerted him. "Is that a hint?"

"No. It's a seduction." She rolled onto him, making it literal.

"Oh Gwenny," he gasped shortly later. "I know I love you. I wish you'd ask me to marry you."

"In due course. There remains one thing to verify."

"What is that?"

"You will know it when it occurs. Meanwhile we still have to place the peeve."

He had almost forgotten. "The peeve! Where is it?"

"Entertaining Tristan Troll. Trolls understand att.i.tudes like that."

"Do you suppose-"

"No, Pewter doesn't want bird droppings in his cave."

"Too bad."

"Now if you're quite done ravishing me-"

He had to laugh. "I doubt I'll ever be done with that. You make me feel young again."

"You're eleven years older than I am. Are you saying I'm getting old?"

"No, of course not!"

"So will you tire of me when I do get old?"

"No!" She was teasing him, but he couldn't help reacting.

"And you really don't mind that I'm lame?"

"I don't even notice. But if I did, it wouldn't make a difference. You're beautiful, and you have no trouble with your legs where it counts."

"Slow walking?"

"That too."

"I wish I could dance."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right dance."

She kissed him. "Maybe."

They got up, cleaned up, and went out to see whether the others were back. They were, and Roland had already given his consent for the electronic rights. Both looked about as satisfied as Goody felt.

"Now let's get that bird a home," Hannah said. "So I can stop guarding you."

"We had a small diversion," Goody said. "But now we should be able to focus exclusively on that."

"Lotsa luck, suckers!"

Goody sincerely hoped the parody's cynicism was unjustified. But he feared it wasn't.

Soon they were on their way. Goody, Gwenny, Hannah, and Roland. They walked slowly, so that Gwenny had no trouble. They stayed mostly on the enchanted paths. And they focused on the parody.

They came to a pleasant garden beside the path, tended by a young man. "h.e.l.lo," Goody said. "That's a nice collection of plants."

"Thank you," the man said. "It's my talent. I can modify things to other varieties, and modify them again, in a chain."

"Modify your stupid head."

Goody hastily explained about the talking bird.

The man demonstrated. He started with a lily flower, and modified it to a tiger lily that growled and snapped at them. Then he modified it to a purring p.u.s.s.y willow. Then to a stiff cattail. And so on, finally back to a lion lily.

"That's beautiful," Gwenny said. "Can you modify a bird?"

"Don't you dare, turnip top!"

They had to go on, reminded of just how difficult it was to place the parody. "Do you actually want to find a home?" Goody asked it.

"Sure, if that gets rid of you, slacker."

But Goody had to wonder. A good home might leave the peeve nothing to be peeved about. It wouldn't like that.

They moved on. Soon they saw commotion across a field. A dragon seemed to be chasing down a running man.

"One hot meal coming up," the parody remarked.

"The fool should have known to stay on the enchanted path," Hannah said.

"We've got to help him," Gwenny said, stepping off the path.

"Wait, Gwenny!" Goody cried. "We can't stop a big dragon! We can't even-" He broke off, unwilling to remind her that she couldn't even outrun it long. And of course he knew she had a tender heart; it was one reason he loved her. So he followed her.

"Bleep!" Hannah swore. She followed, drawing her sword.

"Is this diversion necessary?" Roland inquired, following her.

"Yes," Hannah said. "It's my job to guard Goody until the bird gets placed. I can't stop him from being a fool meanwhile; he's in love."

"Ah, I comprehend. Shall I balk the dragon?"

"Sure. That will save me from nicking my sword on its tough scales."

Roland forged ahead at remarkable velocity, trailing smoke. He intercepted the dragon just as it was about to gobble down the man. "I say, beast: depart."

The dragon gazed down at him, then smirked. It inhaled, readying a withering (or more correctly, melting) blast of fire.

Roland stepped in and bashed it on the snout with his iron fist. "Begone, miscreant!"

The blow clearly had power. It rocked the dragon's head back. Little planets swirled around its snout as its stifled flame shot out its ears. It staggered away, defeated.

"You saved me!" the man exclaimed. "Thank you, iron man!"

"You are welcome. I did it at my beloved's request."

"I am Paine. I come from Camp Pain, where candi dates grow and sling mud. I got so sick of muddy dates! My talent is getting into crises. I fear this would have been my last one, had you not intervened."

"Would have served you right, nitwit."

Goody hastily explained about the bird.

The normal dialogue reestablished itself. "I am Roland, iron-hearted barbarian warrior."

"Get on the enchanted path," Hannah said. "Before another crisis catches up with you."

"Oh, I shall," Paine agreed. "But I can't escape the crises. It's my curse."

"Maybe you should change your name," Goody said. "Such as to Painter. That might change your curse."

Paine looked at him, astonished. "I never thought of that. I'll try it." He turned to Roland. "Thank you again." He hurried to the path.

"That was beautiful, Roland," Hannah said, kissing him.

"Anything for you, my lovely," he replied gallantly.

"Disgusting," the peeve said. "She's turned hard metal into gunk."

"It's the way barbarian men are about women," Hannah explained. "They are utter adorable fools."

Goody exchanged a glance with Gwenny. It was clearly love. Hannah had indeed found her man, in the least likely place. And Gwenny had more than honored her commitment to the robot.

They returned to the enchanted path. The rescued man was gone, but there was a splatter of bright blue paint on the ground. "Why do I think that changing his name did not entirely change his curse?" Gwenny asked rhetorically.

They came to an odd tree. It was covered with musical instruments. "A music tree!" Gwenny exclaimed, delighted. "That must be where the curse fiends get their instruments for the music to accompany their plays. I wish I were musical."

"You govern Goblin Mountain, and you want to be a musician?" Hannah asked.

"Being chiefess is my business; I inherited that. My dreams are something else. I think Goody is one of them."

"I don't understand."

"You dope! She's got a ring in your nose."

"She means she wanted honest love," Hannah said. "As did I. As does any woman. It's harder for some of us to find than it is for uncomplicated damsels."

"She means you're a lovesick n.o.body," the peeve said.

"I'm not sick," Goody protested.

"Oh, I don't know," Hannah said teasingly. "Put a thermometer in your mouth and it would jump five degrees when you looked at Gwenny."

"Don't do that," Gwenny said with mock alarm. "Don't you know those things are spy eyes for the Demon Mercury?"

"Good point," Hannah agreed. "Better leave them to Mundania, where they don't know any better."

They were still gazing at the tree. "This violin looks my size," Gwenny said.

Roland inspected it. There was a faint whirring sound in his head. "That is in my data bank. It is a tic-kit. It sends critics elsewhere."

"You're so smart," Hannah said, giving him another kiss.

"Nauseous!"

"Com Pewter didn't have a barbarian data bank, so he used the standard one," Roland said. "It is filled with useless information."

"At any rate, it is obviously the instrument for me," Gwenny said. "Since I know nothing about music. The centaurs tried to teach me, but I wasn't very good. The critics would destroy me." She gazed longingly at the little violin.

"Take it," Goody urged her. "I'll like anything you play."

"Now that's an att.i.tude I appreciate." She took the violin, which came away readily, with its bow attached. She played a note.

Goody managed not to wince. She was right: it was an awful note.

"It requires tuning," Roland said. "May I?"

Gwenny gave him the violin, and he tightened the strings and returned it. She tried the note again. This time it was melodic. "But that's as far as I go," she said. "I learned only the first note. I can't play a tune."

"Practice," Hannah advised.

Gwenny put the violin in her backpack, and they went on. So far they were having no luck in placing the bird. Were they ever going to find a good home for it? Goody was getting a heavy feeling about that.