Irene finally got her fingers on the tongue. It was slimy and slippery, but she yanked it out. The thing flapped about in her hand, but could not get free.

"What you got there?" Xavier inquired, glancing at her.

"What's it to you, you son of a witch?" the devil's tongue demanded. Irene hastily threw it away. It landed in an elephant bush, which trumpeted angrily. "Oh, go pack in your trunk!" the tongue said.

Now Grundy looked at her. "Hey, you've fixed up your hair!"

Irene touched her hair again. The tongue had distracted her, but now these other three plants were the main concern. She identified each by touch: a centipede plant, a fiery love flower, and a bird's-nest fern.

The Python hissed and slid forward, tired of waiting for this party to get moving. The half-grown dragon tree snapped at it. Her hair would have to wait a little longer!

Xap reared and charged, eager for the fray.

Irene grabbed another seed--this one for a s...o...b..ll plant. "Grow!" she told it, and tossed it into the Python's opening mouth. The reptile, naturally enough, swallowed the sprouting seed.

For an instant nothing happened; the plant was still growing. Then the huge serpent became cold. A segment of its body turned blue. The mouth opened again, and freezing fog came out. Icicles formed on the upper teeth.

The dragon tree pounced on the frigid snake, but found only ice. It would be a while before the creature thawed. Xap and Chem trotted past, unmolested. One hazard was out of the way!

But already the next hazard manifested. The maenads, who, it seemed, were still pursuing the Python, swarmed up the path. Blood was in their eyes and on their claws; probably some of it was their own, for several were limping. But they remained as vicious as ever.

Irene fished for a suitable seed. She had an African violent that she wouldn't have used on any man, but these wild women were another matter. She grabbed it and threw it forward. "Grow!"

" The seed sprouted in air, sending out green-backed foliage and silvery stalks. Gold disks fruited, gleaming in the sunlight. Brightly shining stones appeared, decorating the vines.

The maenads shrieked and pounced on the fruit. They plucked the golden coins and hurled them at the oncoming party. They tossed the greenbacks in the air.

"What kind of plant is that?" Grundy asked.

Irene looked more closely and groaned. She had thrown, the wrong seed! "That's a treasure vine!"

"These creatures of Parna.s.sus sure like money," the golem remarked. "Look at them play with it."

Indeed, the wild women were throwing the bills and coins around as if they were splashing water. They formed piles of money and reveled in them. They fought over particular bills with big figures printed on them; it seemed women were partial to that kind. But those who had not ama.s.sed enough of a fortune were turning again toward the visiting party, their predatory eyes glinting. Irene knew there was nothing quite so dangerous as a hungry wild woman.

She got her fingers on the correct seed and threw it. "Grow, violent!" she cried.

The plant obeyed with alacrity. Purple clubs appeared, smashing at anything in reach. "Ow!" a wild woman screamed as a club clobbered her toe. She danced away on one foot. "Oof!" another cried as another club whomped her bottom. "Hooo!" a third screeched, sailing into the air, and a club sprouted right underneath her.

"You sure fight mean!" Xavier said admiringly as they skirted the melee and went on down the mountain.

"And you thought women were gentle," Grundy reminded him snidely.

Xavier looked nonplused. "Well, the centaur filly here is--"

Xap made a squawk of negation tinged with humor, and Chem blushed. It seemed there were some aspects of centaur private life that were sensitive. Startled, Xavier shifted his statement. "A mighty healthy one," he concluded. With that both hippogryph and centaur were satisfied.

Irene nodded to herself. That must have been some night exploration those two mixbreeds had!

Xavier brightened. "Zora!" he exclaimed. "She's gentle! She don't have a violent bone in her body!"

"All her bones are rotten," Grundy agreed. "It's easy to be gentle when you're dead."

"Undead," Irene said, coming to Zora's defense. "That's not the same." It occurred to her that even Zora had not seemed gentle when she faced down the Furies and drove them away. But that was not an issue she cared to argue; she owed too much to the zombie. "I agree; Zora is a nice girl."

"If you like that type," Grundy muttered. "She sure helped us," Xavier said. "Right now she's carrying the bad seeds for us! If she had any doubt, dissension, or war in her, she'd be a zombie tigress by now!"

"Yes, that's right," the golem agreed, glancing across at Zora. Irene glanced, too, to see how the zombie was taking this discussion. Zora seemed blissfully unconcerned; in fact, she even looked healthier. Her flesh now seemed more soiled than decayed, all the features of her face were in place, and her hair swung as if recently cleaned and brushed, with only a few patches missing.

"But some zombies are violent," Chem remarked. "During the War of the NextWave, the zombies fought like maniacs." She seemed happy to have the subject be Zora instead of herself. "So it must be Zora who is peaceful. Even the Furies remarked on it. She must have been awfully nice when she lived."

It hadn't actually been peacefulness that the Furies had remarked on, Irene remembered, but Zora's loyalty to her parents. Chem was only going by what Irene and the others had talked about, since she herself hadn't been there at the time; it was a minor misunderstanding. "And the heel who caused her to suicide must have been an unutterable slob," Irene concluded with some feeling.

"She suicided?" Xavier asked, surprised.

"Heartbreak," Irene told him. "Her true love was false."

Xavier scowled. "You know, I never zapped a living man. I guess that's one I would. A man's got no business making no commitment he don't keep, ever."

Again, Irene was impressed with the young man's crudely expressed values. She herself had absolutely no romantic interest in him, but she could appreciate that if she had, that interest would not be misplaced. Xavier was true to his values, and they were decent ones. No woman would commit suicide because of him.

Zora, riding behind him, still said nothing. Irene realized with another surge of shame that all of them continued to treat the zombie like an unfeeling thing. What almost made it worse was that none of them did it intentionally; it just was very easy to treat a zombie like a zombie, a thing.

"I wonder what misfortunes she's cursed with," Xavier said after a moment. "The Furies' curses, which she saved us from?"

"Either they haven't affected her any more than the three bad seeds do," Irene said, "or they haven't occurred yet. We've had some close calls, but nothing's happened to her."

"It's really too bad about those curses," Xavier said. "I should have taken my own, like a man."

Irene found she could neither agree nor argue with that, so she let it pa.s.s without comment. After all, she also had been spared the curse of misfortune because of Zora's intercession. It was possible that a misfortune that would kill Irene would have little or no effect on Zora--but it was also possible that it would be equally devastating for human or zombie. She simply didn't know, so didn't know how to feel. She owed so much to Zora and had no idea how she could ever repay it.

Once it had been possible to restore a zombie to life, but only two people had known the formula for the necessary elixir--the Zombie Master and the Good Magician. The Zombie Master had forgotten it in the course of his own eight hundred years as a zombie; the information had probably been in one of the portions of his brain that got sloughed away. The Good Magician was now hopeless. So there was no such reward possible for Zora--and if there had been, she would not have wanted it, since she had no reason to live. Irene tried to imagine a greater tragedy than that, but could not. Why was it that sometimes the best people suffered the worst fates? Was there no inherent justice in Xanth, despite all its magic?

They reached the base of the mountain and crossed the rolling creekbed. This time Irene took the precaution of growing an action plant, which sent its roots throughout the bed and caused all the loose stones to vibrate and roll. Any snakes or other dangerous or annoying creatures would depart in haste! Crossing was now no problem; all they had to do was set their feet where nothing was active, because the action plant guaranteed that anything that could move was already doing so.

Now they were in a more normal region of Xanth and moved rapidly. Irene was glad to leave Parna.s.sus behind; it was no place for civilized mortal creatures, except perhaps at the top. Xap remained on the ground, running beside Chem. It was evident that the hippogryph's squawked comment about ungentle centaurs had been a compliment, not an insult. He liked her very well.

In gratifyingly short order, they were back where they had made camp last night. It was now late in the day, but they didn't want to sleep in this particular spot. They had hardly pa.s.sed it before they heard the screaming of the three Furies.

"We sure don't need this again!" Xavier said grimly. "They were right about me and Maw--I'll give the old crones that!--but I'll take care of it my own way without no other lesson."

Irene agreed, remembering her own guilt about her mother.

"I'm not sure the Furies are strictly fair about their charges," she said. "Or their curses. If so--I mean, if they're more interested in cursing and hurting people than in improving their behavior--then they are to some extent hypocrites. It happens I have a seed that should stop them." She located it and held it ready. "Just charge on by when you see them."

The three Furies appeared. Irene nudged Chem with her knee, and the centaur swerved toward the dog-faced trio.

"Ho, you vile equine!" Tisi cried, spreading her wing-cloak threateningly. "Does your dam Cherie know what you have been doing with--"

Irene threw down the seed. "Grow!" she cried. The seed sprouted before the three hags. "What's this?" Alec cried, alarmed.

"Argh!" Meg screamed. "I know that one! 'Tis an honesty plant!"

"So how have you three harridans treated your mothers?" Irene called back.

"That's awkward," Chem said. "The Furies never had a mother. They sprang from the blood of their murdered father. That's why they're so concerned with--"

The Furies were appalled as they came into the spell of the honesty plant. "Ah, oh!" one screamed. "In truth we have neglected our sire's grave!"

"We were so busy punishing the sins of others, we neglected our own!" another agreed.

"And we must pay!" the third cried, waving her bra.s.s-studded scourge.

"Ooo, what you did!" Grundy said happily. "They'll have to flog and curse themselves!"

"Honesty does awkward things to people," Irene remarked smugly. "Yet I'm sorry if they never knew a mother." It was, she found, difficult to condemn anyone once that person's situation was understood. The Furies, too, were creatures of tragedy.

They left the Furies behind, then found a secure place near a pleasant stream and made their camp. Irene grew a chain fern around the perimeter, so that any intruder would trip over it and set the sweet-bells plants to ringing a warning. Then she grew several food plants for them to eat and a blanket plant from which to make beds. She didn't worry about protecting herself from Xavier during her sleep; she now understood his nature well enough to know that he took seriously the warning of the Simurgh not to mess with a spoken-for woman. He would turn his attention elsewhere as soon as this mission for his mother was complete, and whatever girl he found would be fortunate.

How she wished she were back with her husband Dor, who was surely quite worried about her! But he could, if he thought of it, get hold of a magic mirror that would show him she was all right.

Too bad, she thought, as she wound her way toward a troubled sleep, that Dor could not similarly verify exactly where Ivy was. Good Magician Humfrey had been able to tune the mirrors on to anyone or anything, but they would not obey other people as readily. There was a mirror at Castle Roogna that would show either Dor or Irene, whoever happened to be away from the castle, but no one else. They had a.s.sumed that Ivy would always be with one parent or the other--indeed, she always had been before, or at least within calling range--so they had not worried about tuning to her separately. That could have made an enormous difference this time! But at least the little ivy plant Irene carried offered its continuing a.s.surance. Without that, she would have been driven to distraction long before now.

They resumed travel at dawn, eating halfway on the run. Irene just wanted to deliver the three seeds and the feather to Xanthippe, return Xavier and Xap to her, and get on with the business of locating and rescuing Ivy. They had been lucky so far that nothing serious had happened to any of them, but luck was a fickle ally.

They were not far from the witch's house when they spied a lovely, small, spring-fed pond and drew up for refreshment. Irene dismounted in order to use the nearby bushes for a private function, while Xap, Xavier, and Zora went to the sparkling pond.

The hippogryph put down his beak and scooped in a mouthful of the clear water, raising his head to let it trickle down his throat, bird-fashion. He glanced across at Chem, making a flick of the wing to invite her to join him, but she was waiting for Irene, helping to shield her from the view of the males.

"If Xap says the water's good, it's good," Xavier said cheerfully. "Not that there was any question; you can see how green it is around here. No dragons in this spring!" He flopped down on the bank and put his mouth to the surface, man-fashion.

Zora, beside him, tripped over a rock and plunged headlong into the pool. "Hey!" Xavier exclaimed, scooting back to avoid the splash. "I meant to drink it, not swim in it!" He was smiling good-naturedly.

Zora got awkwardly to her feet and trudged out of the shallow water. Her sunken eyes seemed to glow as she gazed at Xavier.

"There's something odd about her," Grundy remarked. "Do zombies glow?"

"Maybe when they're in love," Irene said facetiously as she emerged from the bush. She would have been embarra.s.sed, too, if she had fallen in the pond!

"Love?" Chem asked. "You know, some springs--"

"Don't drink that water, Xav!" Grundy shouted.

Xavier paused, his mouth just above the surface of the pool.

"Why not? I don't care if she took a dip. It was just her bad luck."

"Because it may be a love spring!" Irene said. "Look at Zora!"

Indeed, Zora was gazing at the young man with such mute adoration that no one could any longer mistake her transformation. It was the nature of love springs to cause anyone who drank from them to fall hopelessly in love with the first creature of the opposite s.e.x he or she perceived thereafter. If the victim already loved someone else, the new love was superimposed; that person then had two loves, the most recent one being the stronger. Love springs accounted for most of the crossbreed species of Xanth, and there were many funny and tragic tales of this. The effect of a love spring could not be changed by lining up some more promising prospect and taking another drink in his or her presence. That would only add yet another love to the collection, making the situation even more difficult. Like death, love was practically irrevocable.

"The misfortune!" Xavier exclaimed in horror. "The curse that was meant for me! She got it instead!"

That made sense, Irene realized. Obviously the curse of the Furies had been slated for Xavier; he had been poised to drink, and only the zombie's accident had brought it on herself instead. This could have been considered coincidence--but the curse eliminated that explanation.

"What worse misfortune could there be for a zombie," Chem murmured, "than to fall in love with a living man?"

What, indeed! Especially a zombie who had suicided because of blighted love. Zora's love for the other man might have faded after she died, but that only left her more vulnerable to this new love.

"Maybe she could go to Mundania," Grundy said. But Irene knew immediately that that was no solution. It was true that magic did not work in Mundania--that land was extremely backward that way, and she often wondered how the inhabitants could stand it--so that any spell could be broken there. But Zora was not a normal person. She was a zombie, animated only by magic. She would be all-the-way dead in Mundania. So she was caught between hopeless love and death, and doomed to eternal heartbreak.

"Those Furies didn't mess around," Chem said. "They could hardly have inflicted a cruder punishment on a more innocent person."

No one could argue with that. They had agreed that Zora was the nicest of them all, already suffering unfairly--and now her grief had been intensified beyond reason.

"But they intended the curse for me," Xavier repeated. "For me to fall in love with a zombie." The horror of that intended fate was now coming home to him.

"We should never have gone near the Furies," Irene said. "Their punishments really do make people wish they were dead--perhaps even when they are already dead."

"But the water's supposed to be good!" Xavier said querulously. "Xap wasn't affected by it!"

"How about that," Grundy agreed. "I'll ask him."

The golem squawked at the hippogryph. Xap responded.

Grundy laughed.

"What's so funny?" Irene demanded, shaken by what had happened. Compelled love was certainly no laughing matter!

Suppose she herself had-- "It didn't affect Xap, because the first female he saw was Chem," Grundy explained. "And he was already in love with her."

Chem smiled, a little sadly. "Of course."

Irene understood the centaur's problem. Xap was one fine animal--but he was an animal. Chem was half human. She might dally with an animal, and even seek offspring by him--centaurs were notoriously open about such things, in contrast to straight human conventions. But love? Marriage? That was a more substantial matter. Males could fall in love readily, because their lives were not so much affected by it. They did not have to bear the offspring. Females were more careful, because their necessary commitment was greater. Chem would have to handle this in her own fashion and was surely competent to do so, as most women were.

Zora, however, was not competent. She had not been allowed to make her considered choice. An impossible love had been imposed on her. Irene didn't know any good way out of that. She had learned that zombies did have feelings, from her a.s.sociation with Zora. But when Zora had already suicided once for love, what remained for her?

"One curse to go," Grundy said.

Irene wished he hadn't reminded her. Zora had absorbed two curses of misfortune, one for Xavier, the other for Irene herself. Now they knew these curses did act on the zombie. What additional tragedy was slated for Irene--that Zora would inherit?

How could things possibly get worse for Zora than they were now? Irene felt the sickening certainty that they would soon find out. The curse of unrequited love was now on Xavier's conscience, thought it was not his fault; the next one would be on Irene's conscience.

"Make sure Zora understands what happened and why," Chem told Grundy.

"She understands," the golem said. "She sort of liked Xav anyway. He's a decent man, you know."

"I know," Irene agreed. Xavier was a much better man than one would have expected the son of a witch to be, perhaps because he did not let his mother influence him unduly. He preferred to go flying--and that, perhaps, had been his chief defense against corruption. The Furies had criticized him for neglect of his mother, but he was probably correct in that neglect. Some mothers did not deserve to be honored too much.