taken losses, but had not lost the battle.
The nymphs and fauns returned, now that the action was over. They were chastened by the double horror of goblin and harpy raids. Three of their comrades were gone. Obviously their illusion of security had been shattered.
The party was, of course, over. They doused the bonfire and retreated to their various habitats. Dor and Jumper hung from a branch of a large tree; it belonged to no one, since these creatures were not yet at the one-creature-one-tree stage. Night sank gloomily upon them.
In the morning Dor and Jumper were sober-but they had a surprise. The first nymph to spy Jumper screamed and dived into the lake-where she almost drowned, for she was an oread, not a naiad. The fauns clustered around aggressively. Dor had to introduce himself and Jumper, for no one remembered them.
They went through the bit about the jumping again, and quickly befriended the whole community- again. They did not mention the goblin press-gang raid; those lost fauns had been forgotten, literally, and the ore- faun Dor had rescued obviously was not aware of his narrow escape. The whole community knew that monsters never came here.
For this was part of the secret of eternal youth: the fauns and nymphs could not afford to be burdened by the harsh realities of prior experience. They were forever young, and necessarily innocent. Experience aged people. As it was aging Dor.
'At least the goblins won't do much successful recruiting here,' Dor murmured as they left the colony behind and continued west. 'You can't depend on troops who have to be taught again each day.'
'The harpies won't have that problem,' Jumper chittered.
The harpies had been foraging for fresh meat. They had found it.
'Nevertheless, the effect may wear off after a few days, when individuals are removed from the locale,' Jumper continued. 'Had we remained several days, we would have felt the spell's effect, and remained forever; those who are forcibly removed probably revert slowly to their original states.'
'Makes sense,' Dor agreed. 'Stay a short time, trying it out, having a good time-' He thought of the naiad who had tempted him, and of the other naiads in the water with their floating breasts. 'Then get caught by the spell, and not remember what else you have to do.' He shuddered, partly from the horror of it, and partly from the appeal of it.
They continued on into the larger bushes, leaving their trail of markers. The fauns and nymphs would not tamper with the markers; they would not remember what they were for. Within a day or so the zombie army should pass this region. Dor judged that they had now marked over half the distance from the Zombie Master's castle to Castle Roogna. The worst was surely over, and by nightfall he and Jumper would be with the King with the good news.
'These plants disturb me,' Jumper chittered.
'Me too. But they seem harmless, just strange.'
Jumper looked about, as he could do without moving his head or eyes. The direction of his vision was merely a matter of awareness, and Dor had become sensitive to the spider's mannerisms that signaled it. 'There seems to be no better channel than this. The ground is level and clear, and there are no hostile creatures. Yet I distrust it.'
'The most promising paths are often the most dangerous. We should distrust this one because there are no hostile creatures,' Dor pointed out.
'Let me survey from another vantage, while you continue as if innocent,' Jumper chittered. He jumped over a bush and disappeared.
Dor walked on. He hardly had to pretend innocence! It was a good system they had. The spider was more agile and could not be caught by sudden drops, thanks to his dragline, while Dor had the solidity of his big Mundane body and the power of his sword. He would distract potential enemies while Jumper observed them from concealment. Any who attacked Dor might find themselves looped and hoisted on a line of silk.
The bushes now rose taller than his head and seemed to crowd about, though they did not move. The true walking plants seemed not to have evolved in Xanth yet. Dor checked that carefully, however, since there were other ways to move than walking. Tangle trees, for example, snatching prey that passed; predaceous vines that wrapped around anyone foolish enough to touch them, or plants that simply uprooted themselves periodically to find better locations. But these particular plants were definitely stationary; it was his forward progress into their thickening midst that made them seem to swell and crowd closer. They were all so similar that it would be easy to get lost among them-but since he was leaving magic markers, he would not mislay his way, and could always retreat. And of course Jumper was watching.
What would his venture have been like without Jumper? Dor shuddered to think of it. He was sure the big spider's presence was accidental, not planned or anticipated by Good Magician Humfrey when he arranged this quest. But without that coincidence, could Dor have survived even his first encounter with the goblins? Had he died here in the tapestry, what would have happened to his body back home? Maybe Humfrey had some way to rend the tapestry and reweave it, so that Dor's death would be eliminated and he could return safely-but even so, that would have been a humiliating failure. Far better to survive on his own-and Jumper had enabled him to do that. So far.
Even more important was the maturity of perspective brought by the big arachnid. Dor was learning constantly from that. The juveniles of any species tended to be happy but careless, like the fauns and nymphs; it was easy to contemplate being locked into such innocence indefinitely. But the longer prospects showed this to be a nightmare. Dor was, as it were, emerging from faun stage to Jumper stage.
He laughed, finding the mixed image funny. He imagined himself starting with little horns and hooves, then growing four more limbs and six more eyes to resemble the spider. Before this adventure he would not have understood such imagery at all!
In the midst of his laugh, something chilling happened, causing him to choke it off. He looked around, but saw nothing. Only the plants, which were now half again as tall as he. What had happened to disturb him so? He hadn't quite caught it.
He shrugged and walked on. After a moment, to demonstrate better his unconcern, and incidentally to make sure his exact location was known to Jumper-just in case!-he began to whistle. He was not a good whistler, but he could carry a fair tune.
