"I saw what happened in the magic mirror," Irene said. "The Gap Dragon definitely OD'd on a Fountain of Youth water and became tiny. This is far too solid a whomping for that."

"Yes," the Gorgon said, remembering as she was reminded. "Humfrey and the dragon--both infants now. Lacuna is baby-sitting--"

"Well, it sure sounds like the Gap Dragon," Grundy said. "Better be ready to remove your veil, Stonestare, just in case."

The creature came into sight.

"The Gap Dragon!" Irene exclaimed. "It is it!"

Indeed it seemed so. The dragon was full-sized, with bright metallic scales, three sets of legs, vestigial wings, and plumes of steam. It spied them and charged, shaking the ground with its whomping.

No time now to marvel at impossibilities! Irene fished for a seed. "I'd better sprout that tangle tree!" she said. "Or a strangler fig."

"No, wait!" the Gorgon protested. "I remember now! Humfrey said the Gap Dragon must not be hurt! It's needed in the Gap!"

Irene paused. "That's right. He did say that. It made precious little sense to me at the time, but now we know the Gap Dragon helps keep the goblins and harpies apart. Even if that wasn't the case, Humfrey always did know what he was talking about before, so we'd better heed him this time. But how can we stop that monster if I don't use my most devastating plants and you don't show your face?"

"That question makes me feel very insecure," the Gorgon admitted.

"Grow defensive plants," Chem suggested, worried herself. It was one thing to conjecture on the theoretical value of the Gap Dragon to the society of Xanth; it was another to watch that monster steaming down on the group. "Until we can slow the dragon down enough so it can listen to Grundy. Then maybe we can find out how it reversed the Fountain of Youth effect."

"Reversed the Youth!" the Gorgon exclaimed. "Oh, yes, we must learn that! I can get my husband back to normal!" She paused, considering. "Or maybe partway back. I'd like to know him at a comfortable age of forty or fifty, instead of over one hundred."

"The baby dragon was with the children," Chem said. "Now that it has reverted to adult status, I hope it didn't--"

"The children!" Irene exclaimed. But then her hand found the ivy plant she wore. It remained healthy. "No, the children are all right. At least Ivy is, and surely that means Hugo is, too, since they were together."

"Surely," the Gorgon agreed, relieved.

"Get on with the defensive plants, girls!" Grundy cried, seeing the dragon bearing down on them. It had been making progress all this time but had had some distance to go. Now it loomed excruciatingly large and fierce, the plumes of steam sweeping back along its long body.

Hastily Irene selected and threw down a seed. "Grow! Grow!" she cried. How could she have stood here talking while the monster was charging?

Impelled by the double command, the seed fairly burst into growth. Irene was aware that her power had been slowly fading during her separation from her talented daughter Ivy, but she still had enough zip for this. The plant took firm root, developed a thick, gray-white stem, and spread out a globe of whitish leaves. Overall, it was not large or impressive; it was squat and low and showed no thorns or threatening flowers.

"The monster'll crash right through that!" Grundy said nervously.

"I doubt it," Irene replied. "Stand directly behind it."

The four of them placed themselves behind the bush. The dragon whomped right at it, shooting out a sizzling jet of steam. But the steam bounced off the leaves, coating them with moisture; they did not wilt.

Surprised, the dragon slowed. Ordinarily it would simply have crushed the bush underfoot, but it had learned caution about unusual plants. Some plants could defend themselves quite adequately. It moved into this one at reduced velocity.

And bounced off it. The dragon was shaken; the bush remained undented.

"Something odd about this plant," Chem said, understating the case somewhat.

"What is it?" the Gorgon asked, impressed.

"One you should recognize," Irene said. "A cement plant."

"No, I don't know anything about cement plants," the Gorgon said. "Plants don't have eyes, so can't see me, so can't be turned to stone by the sight of my face. Otherwise we'd have a handy way to foil the dragon; we could hide behind any bush and turn it to stone."

Meanwhile, the dragon had figured out that there was something funny about the plant and was circling around it, steaming angrily. Irene quickly tossed down several more seeds. "Grow!"

Ferns sprouted. "What can ferns do?" Grundy asked.

"These are chain ferns," Irene explained.

In moments the ferns developed metallic links, hooked up to each other, and formed a st.u.r.dy chain barring the dragon's progress.

But the chain was too low; the dragon sniffed it, pondered for a reasonable interval, then simply whomped over it.

However, Irene had already started more plants growing. Several amazon lilies lashed at the dragon's feet, striking with their small spears of leaves. But the reptile's feet were too tough to be hurt by these, and progress was hardly impeded.

But other plants caused more trouble. A firecrown landed on the dragon's head, heating it uncomfortably; a fishhook cactus hooked into several toes; a mountain rose grew in front, rising into a small red mountain, blocking the way while it continued to smell as sweet as its cousins by other names. A rattlesnake plant rattled, hissed, and struck at the dragon's nose; a star cl.u.s.ter heated the dragon's scales with a number of little burning stars; and scrub oak used little brushes to scrub at exposed anatomy. That merely tickled the monster.

"This small stuff is only slowing the thing," Grundy said.

"You need stronger medicine."

"Well, I don't have any new seeds sorted yet!" Irene fussed.

"I don't want to risk random seeds."

The dragon shook off the last of the nuisance plants and fired a jet of steam. Chem danced aside, but Irene felt the heat of the blast. The golem was right; she needed stronger stuff and soon, or they would be in deep trouble. But a tangle tree was too strong. She would have to gamble on some uncla.s.sified stock.

She nerved herself and threw out a random seed. "Grow!"

The seed sprouted into a huge tree that soon made everything else look relatively small. "Oh, that's a dwarf yew plant," Irene said. But the dragon simply whomped around it, undwarfed.

She tossed out another. It grew a number of cylindrical red fruits, and these exploded as the dragon pa.s.sed, startling it. "A firecracker plant," Irene said, recognizing it.

A third plant looked like a fern, but it soon uprooted itself and walked away. "Walking fern," Irene said. "Oh, I'm wasting some fine seeds here! If only I had time to cla.s.sify them, so I knew what they all were, I could do something effective!"

"Let me talk to them," Grundy said. "Maybe I can find a good one."

Frustrated, but unable to offer anything better, Irene let the golem put his little hand in the bag of seeds and draw out individual ones to query. She hadn't realized he could talk to seeds, but of course he could communicate with anything living. Still this took time, for he could only query one at a time, and the dragon was close.

Chem kept retreating, able to outrun the monster, but the Gorgon was afoot and having trouble. There wasn't room for her on Chem, along with Irene, Grundy and the bag of seeds; she was more solid than Zora Zombie had been. The dragon tended to go for whoever was closest. They had to get her out of danger, or she would be forced to lift her veil in self-defense and turn the dragon to stone.

Irene looked anxiously about. To the side was the base of a fairly steep slope covered with vegetation. That would be easier to hide in. "There!" she cried, pointing.

They hurried to the slope. Chem's legs plunged through the layered herbage, seeking firm footing beneath. Vines and brambles abounded. The Gorgon had trouble, too. But maybe, Irene hoped, this would impede the progress of the dragon. Once it stopped trying to devour them, Grundy would be able to talk to it.

Chem reached out to grab the Gorgon's arm, helping her to scramble over the slope. "Oops!" the Gorgon cried. "My veil's snagged on a bramble! Close your eyes!"

Irene closed her eyes and looked away just to be safe. This was a very poor time to be without sight, but such a warning had to be heeded! She knew the others were doing likewise. She heard the angry hissing of the little snakes that were the Gorgon's hair; they didn't like being shaken up.

In a moment the Gorgon announced that her veil was back in place Irene opened her eyes, looked back--and saw the dragon almost within steaming range. "Grow!" she cried to the vegetation between them and the dragon.

It grew. Oh, how it grew! The brambles become enormous and twice as tangly as before, and the vines threaded themselves into new layers of complexity. They twined up around the dragon, using it as support for their compet.i.tive rising toward the sun. In moments the dragon looked like a boulder clothed in vines.

The reptile didn't like this. It thrashed its powerful tail, snapping vines as if they were so many cotton threads. It steamed, making the green leaves wilt. It whomped forward, flattening multiple layers into one layer. The vegetation was no match for it.

"That's one tough dragon!" Irene murmured.

"The toughest," Chem agreed, struggling to stay out of steam range. She was panting, expending a lot of energy to move up the difficult slope, and so was the Gorgon. "I was (puff!) present when Smash the Ogre (puff!) fought it in the Gap Chasm nine years ago. (Puff!) It was an even contest."

"An ogre is stronger than a dragon, weight for weight," Irene said.

"In most cases," Chem agreed noncommittally.

The dragon made another whomp. Now it was within steaming range. It pumped up its body, making ready to issue the definitive blast.

"I've got it!" Grundy cried. "A dragnet seed!"

Irene s.n.a.t.c.hed the seed as adeptly as any harpy might have. "Grow!" she ordered it, flinging it at the reptile.

The seed sprouted in midair. It developed into a broad net whose material glinted in the light like steel. This was no ordinary plant!

The net settled neatly over the dragon and dug its fringe roots into the ground on all sides. Irene had never seen a plant like this before; evidently there were some excellent seeds in the batch from the Tree of Seeds!

The dragon whomped forward, trying to brush the annoying net out of the way--and was thrown back by it. No strands broke. This was one plant the monster could not overpower by brute force.

Furious, the dragon reached out with a leg or two and clawed at the net. Still it didn't give. The dragon blasted out white-hot steam--but the net did not wilt or melt. The dragon chomped on the dragnet with its teeth, but the vines held.

"I think we've got it," Grundy said.

"Well, talk to it!" Irene snapped. This had been entirely too near a thing.

Grundy tried. He made a small roaring noise, which the dragon ignored. They would have to wait for the monster to settle down.

They waited, glad for the chance to rest, and slowly the dragon's efforts abated. Soon it would listen to Grundy.

"Odd," the golem remarked innocently. "I didn't hear you thank me for locating the key seed, the dragnet."

Irene stifled further ire at his prodding. "Thank you so deliciously much!" she snapped. But of course Grundy's part in this had been essential; she did have to give credit where it was due, even to the most obnoxious person.

"I do so appreciate your gracious--" Grundy began, then paused, listening.

Zzapp!

Chem stiffened. "What was that?"

"What was what, silly filly?" Grundy asked, though obviously he had heard it, too.

"Probably my imagination," the centaur decided. "For an instant I thought--a historical phenomenon my father Chester told me about--"

"Who cares about history?" Grundy demanded. "We have a dragon to tame!"

"I'm not sure," the Gorgon said. "My memory remains vague in certain areas, but I remember Humfrey once describing a really bad threat--"

Zzapp!

Now the dragon froze, its ears perking up. "Say--that dragon has two ears!" Grundy exclaimed. "So it does!" Chem agreed. "That can't be the Gap Dragon! Smash the Ogre smashed off one of its ears; we used that ear to tune in on danger--"

"There are two Gap Dragons?" Irene asked, perplexed. "I'll ask," the golem said. He made another small, steamy roar.

Now the dragon roared back.

Astonished, Grundy translated. "She's not our dragon."

"She?" Irene asked.

Grundy exchanged more roars. "She's the female of the species. She comes every so often to mate with the Gap Dragon, using a secret entrance to the Gap he doesn't know about."

"So she supposes!" Chem put in. "Once the forget-spell started breaking up, he remembered that exit, and the trouble started."

"This time, when she arrived, he was gone. So she set out in search for him. She can wind him from afar--but he's elusive."

"No wonder!" Chem said. "He's rejuvenated! Tell her that."

"No cure for the Fountain of Youth, then..." the Gorgon said sadly. "If this had been the restored Gap Dragon--"

Grundy told the lady Gap Dragon. She reacted with reptilian horror. b.a.l.l.s of steam drifted from her ears. "She wants to know how we expect her to mate with a baby," Grundy remarked with a smirk.

"I wish I knew!" the Gorgon said.

Zzapp!

Again the dragon reacted. Grundy inquired--and his little face sagged with horror. "She's heard that sound before! She says it's a wiggle!"

"A wiggle!" Chem said. "My dread has been realized. The worst possible threat to Xanth!"

"Yes, now I remember," the Gorgon agreed. "This is terrible!"

Irene was perplexed. "I think I've heard the term, but I don't really know anything about it. What's so bad about a wiggle?"

Zzapp!

Chem spotted two chunks of wood in the brush on the slope, picked them up, and stalked the sound while she talked. "The wiggles are tiny spiral worms that swarm periodically. Sometimes a century pa.s.ses without an infestation; sometimes only a few decades. The last swarming was just about thirty years ago; my great uncle Herman the Hermit supervised the effort of containment, and lost his life in the process. It was hoped that the wiggle scourge had been permanently eradicated, but it seems not. Now we shall have to do the job over--and immediately."

"But all I heard was a little zap!" Irene said. "What's wrong with that?"

"That was the sound of the wiggle moving," the centaur explained. "It hovers in place for perhaps a minute--it's variable, or perhaps each individual worm has its own typical frequency--then zips forward in a straight line, a variable distance, but not far at a time. It--"

Zzapp!