Golem in the Gears (13 page)

"You haven't perceived that?" the Monster honked.

"Why would I ask, if I had?"

"The Hag has been in this vicinity—the eastern coast ofXanth—for centuries. People are catching on. Mothers warn daughters about her. I'm sure it's getting harder for her to take over healthy human hosts. Animals, too, may be alert, as I am. She can take over any creature, male or female, though I believe she prefers female for long- term use. That doesn't mean males are safe; it means she'll use them only temporarily, killing them off when she finds a better host. So it makes sense for her to cul- tivate a perfect host—some young woman who can't get away, and who doesn't even know what the Hag contem- plates."

"But everyone in the area must know!" Grundy pro- tested.

"Yes. Except a person raised in an isolated tower, who never talks to anyone else."

"Rapunzel!" Grundy exclaimed, finally catching the Monster's drift.

"That is why the Hag built the Ivory Tower," the Mon- ster agreed. "To enable her to raise a girl, in each gen- eration, who was completely innocent, yet healthy and intelligent and beautiful. In the Ivory Tower there is no chance to leam about the real world, yet that person can be quite intellectual. The Hag has fine taste in women, since she likes to have the most attractive and useful bodies. Inevitably those bodies age and uglify under her influence, but if they are outstandingly beautiful at the outset, that process takes longer."

"Obviously Rapunzel knows something," Grundy said. "That has to be the reason the Good Magician sent me to the Ivory Tower. But if she's completely shut off from the rest of Xanth, how could she know where the missing dragon is?"

"She would know anything the Hag told her," the Mon- ster pointed out. "And the Hag would need her to know the general geography and cultures of Xanth, because once the Hag takes over that body, the Hag is restricted by the limitations of the host. Obviously she knows she's the Hag, and remembers what she's done, but her physical and mental abilities are defined by those of the host. That's another reason to have a substantial period of training. Just so long as the captive doesn't leam about the real nature of the Hag herself. So probably Rapunzel knows where just about everything is, so that the Hag can find it when she has that host."

"Yes, that makes sense," Grundy agreed. "From Ivy's description, Rapunzel is a nice person, and a pundit."

"Who sends her puns," the Monster agreed. "But she won't stay nice, once the Hag takes over."

"She is definitely a damsel in distress," Grundy con- cluded. "And we've got to rescue her."

"Agreed," the Monster honked. "But this will be no easy task. I believe others have tried to get into the Ivory Tower in prior centuries and all have come to grief."

"I can imagine," Grundy said glumly.

"It is an interesting coincidence that your Good Magi- cian should send you on this mission just at this time, when the damsel surely needs rescuing."

"Not coincidence at all!" Grundy said. half angrily. "The Good Magician must know about the Sea Hag after all and has dispatched me to break up her foul mischief!"

"Undoubtedly the case," the Monster agreed.

Unfortunately, Grundy was not at all sure he was up to the challenge. He was, after all, only the height of the span of a human man's spread hand. He was definitely no hero!

Now it was dusk. It was time to fetch the bed and Snortimer, and start on their swim to the dread Ivory Tower.

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Chapter 7. Ivory Tower

They traveled south along the coast. The Mon- ster was so big and steady in the water that he was like a floating island; the bed simply perched on the bamacled back without falling off, and Grundy and Snortimer perched on the bed. The Monster couldn't talk to them while swimming, because his snoot was mostly under- water, but that was all right; Grundy had had his fill of conversation for now.

Progress was slow, however; the Monster was no speed freak. The voyage required several days. At dawn they camped on an isolated promontory that the Monster assured them was safe; there was an inlet that was almost a cave, providing deep shade for the bed, which made Snortimer more comfortable. The Monster swam out to the deep ocean and fed on plankton, while Grundy found some edible lichen in assorted candy flavors. Snortimer had no trouble; he fed on the dust under the bed, as he always had. He had evolved from dust, and to dust he would return, when Ivy grew up and stopped believing in him. That was the tragedy of all Bed Monsters.

As they wended farther south, the complexion of the shore changed. The normal greens and browns of trees faded, to be replaced by tan, and then yellow, and finally

bright gold. "What's with the land?" Grundy asked when the Monster paused.

"Didn't you know? This is the Gold Coast."

Oh. That didn't explain much, but Grundy didn't want to admit his further ignorance, so he did not inquire again.

At length they hove into view of the dread Ivory Tower. It was, Grundy discovered, a lighthouse. A yellow beam of light swung around from its apex, brightening the heav- ing surface of the sea and the projecting rocks of the coast. This was a lonely region, forbidding and unpretty. Mun- danes might find golden land beautiful, but golems had better taste. Grundy would never have come here, had he not been on Quest.

They paused at a distance. Grundy knew that the Mon- ster dared not approach too close, lest the Sea Hag spy him. The next phase of this adventure was up to Grundy himself.

It was possible, the Monster had assured him, to reach the base of the Tower from the land, by crossing the shoals at low tide. There would not be much time, because the moment the tide reversed, that section would fill in with water, returning the tower to its island status. However, since Snortimer could climb a sheer cliff face, Grundy wasn't worried about that aspect. Of greater concern was the whereabouts of the Sea Hag. Was she in the Tower now, or elsewhere?

It was fairly high tide now. The Monster nudged in close to the golden shore and landed them near a golden grotto, lifting the bed into it with a flipper. It was an awkward operation, but successful; now Snortimer was secure under the bed in a deeply shadowed nook, just the way he liked it. Still, he complained: "I miss Ivy's cute little feet."

"The sooner we get this Quest done, the sooner she'll

be using this bed again," Grundy reminded him. "If you don't find romance first."

"Um, to be sure," Snortimer muttered, as a splash of water drenched the bed. He did not sound entirely sat- isfied.

Grundy decided to wait and watch for a while. The Monster believed that the Hag made regular trips to and from the Tower, though he had never actually observed this, being too nervous to remain long enough to watch. In fact, the Monster was already gone, having swum to deeper waters to feed. He would be back in due course, to help rescue the damsel in distress—but Grundy real- ized that it was up to the golem to work out the proper strategy.

He was in luck. On the afternoon of the first day he saw a rowboat coming around the Tower. Evidently the Hag had it moored by the door at the base, and was now heading to land for supplies. If she stayed away until low tide, Grundy could cross to the Tower and enter, and perhaps rescue Rapunzel, just like that. Probably the Hag locked the door from the outside so that the girl couldn't escape. If he could just find a way to unlock it—

He waited nervously as the day waned. The Hag did not return. He assumed it was the Hag, though he had not been able to get a clear view of the figure in the boat, because it could be no one else. Certainly Rapunzel wouldn't be going shopping! But if the Hag had someone else to do her bidding—

No. It had to be her!

Meanwhile, the tide was going out. At dusk the bar was beginning to show; within another hour they would be able to cross. Still the boat did not return; maybe the Hag planned to return in the morning. That would be so convenient for Grundy that he hardly believed it.

As night became firmly established, he roused Snor- timer. They had to leave the bed in the grotto; it was under cover and high enough so that high tide would not reach it. But of course they did not plan to remain long at the Tower; this deed was best done quickly.

As the water receded farther, they made the crossing. There were still inlets and puddles to hurdle, but Snor- timer could handle them. Grundy judged that they would have no more than an hour; longer, and the tide would trap them.

It was a farther distance than it had seemed. The terrain of the bar was not even; it was rough and craggy. Even at ebb tide, the waves crashed against the rocks. To a regular man this might not have been too bad, but each wave was about nine times as high relative to Grundy. He could be swamped in water that was only knee-deep to a man. Once again he was reminded of his basic inad- equacy as a hero; he simply lacked the stature!

It took twenty minutes to make it to the base of the Tower. They scrambled around it—and were dismayed.

There was no door. The wall was a smooth cylinder throughout. How had the Hag gotten out?

Grundy peered up into the sky. The Tower seemed immensely tall from this vantage, poking up almost to the restless night clouds. The only aperture seemed to be at the top: a window not far below the rotating beam, facing

seaward.

"She must have a ladder," Grundy concluded glumly. But then he remembered his steed's ability. "We'll just have to climb up it." The prospect scared him, for it looked to be a very long way up, but what alternative did

they have?

He held on tight, and Snortimer took hold of the wall.

The huge hairy hands scraped across the polished ivory—

and found no resistance.

The ivory was simply too slippery for Snortimer to

scale. The cliff of the Gap Chasm had been rough, with

a network of little cracks and crevices that assured a grip;

this wall had none. They could not get up that way. "Oh, zombie-slush!" Grundy swore, frustrated. There was a sound, far above, as of a window being

opened. "Is that you. Mother Sweetness?" a gentle voice

called.

Mother Sweetness? What nonsense was this? "Why are you back early?" the voice called. Grundy had to answer. "I—I am a visitor," he called.

"May I come up and see you?"

There was a dulcet gasp. "Oh, I dare not talk to

strangers!"

Naturally the Hag had warned this innocent young thing

against strangers! "But I have come a long way just to

talk with you!" Grundy called.

"No, Mother Sweetness is very firm about that. No

strangers!" There was the sound of a window being closed. Grundy thought desperately. "I'm not exactly a

stranger!" he called. "I'm from Ivy!"

"Ivy!" The window reopened. "My pun-pal!" "The same! I'm on a Quest for her, and I must talk

with you! It's very important!"

She hesitated. "Well, I suppose for a moment—" "But I don't know how to get in," Grundy called. "I

can't find the door."

There was a tinkle of laughter. "Silly! There is no door!

Ivory Towers don't have accesses to the real world." "But then how does anyone get in?" "Just a moment while I let down my hair."

"Rapunzel, this is no time to do your hair!" Grundy cried.

Again her laughter tinkled down upon them. She seemed to be a merry soul. "It's for you, of course. That's how Mother Sweetness comes up."

Then a hank of fiber fell down to dangle just shy of the ground, startling them. Grundy reached out to touch it, and found it composed of fine silken fibers. It was her hair!

He stared up. The tower seemed to be hundreds of feet tall, and the hair dangled all the way down it. What amazing tresses she possessed! But though he could climb well enough for a few feet, he knew this was beyond him;

his arms would give out before he was more than a fraction of the way up, and he would fall back to the rocky base. If the Sea Hag could readily climb that distance, she had to be one tough old creature!

Then Snortimer took hold. He, naturally, had no trou- ble; he could climb anything, once he got a grip on it. Grundy mounted, and up they swarmed, virtually running up the side of the Tower. In a few minutes they were near the top.

Belatedly, it occurred to Grundy that the sight of Snor- timer might alarm the girl. After all, Snortimer was the Monster Under the Bed, a figure of terror for most young folk. "Close your eyes as we come in!" he called.

"Close my eyes?" she asked, perplexed. "But—"

How could he explain? But then he realized that they had another problem. Her chamber was lighted; Snorti- mer could not enter! "Or turn out the light," he said. "It— it's blinding me."

"Oh." In a moment the light went out; evidently she had the lamp within reach.

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Snortimer scrambled on up in the dark, and into the window. The absence of light solved both problems neatly!

But once they were inside, Rapunzel wanted to light the lamp again. "If I turn it low, your eyes will be able to adjust," she said reasonably.