matter through. Each had her separate female fashion, sort of rounded and soft, structured for holding.
But it seemed best not to let them know that he noticed. They allowed themselves to get close to him only because they regarded him as a woolly monster who had no perception of their nonedible attributes.
He hauled on the rope, bringing the dragon up another notch. Now Smash was approaching the limit of his strength, for the dragon was a heavy monster and there was a long way to haul. When the job got near the end, ogre, boulder, and centaur were all getting light; any more and they would be swinging in the air.
But at last it was done. Now the Gap Dragon was suspended by its tail from the ironwood tree, its snout just touching the level ground at the base of the chasm. Smash climbed the rope to the tree, caught the trailing tip of the dragon's tail, and knotted it about the tree. Then, clinging to the tree, he untied the rope and flung it upward over the tip of the cliff. He had had the foresight to leave Chem and the boulder anchoring the rope at ground level before doing this.
John flew up and caught the rope. She dragged the end to a tree beyond the chasm and tied it firmly with a fairy knot. Smash climbed the rest of the way up and stood at last on the northern side of the Gap Chasm. Now they had their escape route.
'Climb the dragon, climb the rope,' he called down. His voice echoboomed back and forth across the chasm, but finally settled down to the bottom, where they could hear it.
Tandy came up, placing her feet carefully against the dragon's metal scales, which tended to fold outward because of its inverted position, making the footing better. The Siren followed, not quite as agile.
Chem and Fireoak were more of a problem. The centaur' had let herself down readily enough, but lacked the muscle either to climb the dragon vertically or to haul herself up along the rope to the top. And the hamadryad was too weak even to make the attempt.
Smash could handle that. He slid down the rope and dragon, picked up the dryad, and carried her to the top. Then he returned for the centaur. He had her hold on to him again, circling her arms about his waist while he hauled himself up by hands and feet. Progress was slow, for her hooves could not grip the 'dragon's scales comfortably, but eventually they made it to the ironwood tree.
At this point the nature of the problem changed. The rope went straight up to the overhanging lip, and Smash doubted Chem could hold on to him while he climbed that. Also, he was tiring, and might be unable to haul himself and her up, using only his arms. So he parked her, wedged between the ironwood trunk and the cliff, while he rested and considered.
But he was not provided much time for either. The Gap Dragon, quiescent until now, stirred. It was a tough animal, and even a punch in the head by the fist of an ogre could not put it to sleep indefinitely. It twisted about, trying to discover what was happening.
'I think you had better climb back up your rope now,' Chem said.
'Tie the end about your waist; I will draw you up from above.'
'I will make a harness,' she decided. She looped the rope around her body in various places. 'This way I can defend myself.'
Smash clambered up the taut rope while the dragon thrashed about with increasing vigor. As Smash crossed the cliff lip, he saw the dragon's head mining back up along its body, toward the centaur filly.
That could certainly be trouble!
Atop the cliff, Smash took hold of the rope and drew it up. The weight was great, but the rope was magically strong. He had to brace carefully, lest he be pulled back over the cliff. Again he was reminded that strength alone was not sufficient; anchorage was at times more important. He solved the problem by looping the rope about his own waist so that he could not be drawn away from the tree and could exert his full force.
John was hovering near the lip. 'That dragon has spotted Chem,' she announced with alarm. 'It's reaching up. I don't know whether it can...'
Smash kept on hauling. He could go only so fast, since he had to take a fresh grip each time and tense for the renewed effort. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was tiring more rapidly. What had become of his ogre endurance?
'Yes, the dragon can reach her,' John reported. 'It's lunging, snapping. She's fending it off neatly with her hooves, but she's swinging around without much leverage. She can't really hurt it. It's trying again-you'd better lift her up higher, Smash!'
Smash was trying, but now his best efforts yielded only small, slow gains. His giant ogre muscles were solidifying with fatigue.
'Now the dragon is trying to climb its own tail, to get higher, so it can chomp the rope apart or something,' the fairy said. 'This time she won't be able to stop it. Pull her up quickly!'
But try as he might, Smash could not. The rope began to slip through his exhausted hands.
The Siren leaped up. 'I have a knife!' she cried. 'I'll go down and cut off the dragon's tail so it will drop
to the bottom of the chasm, out of reach!'
'No!' Tandy protested. 'You'll have no way to get up again!'
'I'll do it!' John said. 'Quick-give me the knife!'
The Siren gave her the knife. The fairy dropped out of sight beyond the ledge. Smash tried to rouse himself to resume hauling on the rope, but his body was frozen into a deathlike rigor. He could only listen.
The Siren lay on the bank, her head over the cliff, looking down. 'The dragon's head is almost there,'
she reported. 'John is down near the tree. She's afraid of that monster; I can tell by the way she skirts it.
But she's approaching the tied tail. Now she's sawing on it with the knife. She's not very strong, and those scales are tough. The dragon doesn't see her; it's orienting on Chem. Oops - now it sees John. That knife is beginning to hurt it as she digs through the scales. It's slow work! The dragon is turning its head about, opening its jaws. Chem is slipping down farther. She's kicking at the dragon's neck with her forefeet, trying to distract it. Now she's throwing dirt at it from the chasm wall. John is still sawing at the tail. I think she's down to real flesh now. The dragon is really angry. It's blasting out steam-Oh!' She paused, horrified.
'What happened?' Tandy demanded, her face pale with strain.
'The steam-John-' The Siren took a ragged breath. 'The steam shriveled her wings, both of them.
They're just tatters. John's clinging to the tree trunk. Still sawing at the tail. What awful courage she has!
She must be in excruciating pain.'
The fairy had lost her newly recovered wings and was suffering terribly-because of Smash's failure. In an agony of remorse, he forced strength through his frozen muscles and hauled again on the rope. Now it came up, its burden seeming lighter, and soon the centaur was over the lip of the chasm and scrambling to safety. But what of John?
'There goes the dragon!' the Siren cried. 'She did it! She cut through the tail! There's dragon blood all over her and she's lost the knife, but the dragon's bouncing down the slope in a cloud of dust and steam.
Now the monster's rolling at the base. It's galumphing away!'
'What of John?' Tandy cried.
'She's sitting there by the ironwood tree. Her eyes are closed. I don't think she quite comprehends what has happened. Her wings-'
Tandy was fashioning the rope into a smaller harness. 'Lower this to her. We'll draw her up!'
Smash merely stood where he was, listening. His brief surge of strength had been exhausted; now he could do nothing. He felt ashamed for his weakness and the horrible consequence of it, but had no further resource. John had thought she would be safe in the company of an ogre!
Chem drew the fairy up. Smash saw John huddled in the harness. Her once-lovely wings, with the blossoming flower patterns, were now melted amorphous husks, useless for flying. Would they ever grow back? It seemed unlikely.
'Well, we crossed the chasm,' Tandy said. She was not happy. None of them was. One of their number had lost her invaluable wings, another was too wasted to stand, and Smash was too tired to move. If this
was typical of the hazards they faced, traversing central Xanth, how would they ever make it the rest of the way?
'Well, now,' a new voice declared. Smash turned his head dully to view the speaker. It was a gnarled, ugly goblin-at the head of a fair-sized troop of goblins.
