Anthony, Piers - Xanth 11 - Heaven Cent

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Chapter 1. Mystery

Irolph made himself comfortable on Ivy's bea and watched the Tapestry. The things its moving

pictures showed were always so much more interesting than his dull life at Castle Roogna! Ivy was

off at a tutoring session with Chem Centaur, so he had the Tapestry all to himself. That was best,

because big sisters were a pain in the tail.

With that thought, he changed form, becoming the wolfen aspect of a werewolf. He curled around,

with his four legs tucked under him and his tail just touching his black nose. Animals generally

had better bodies than human folk, being bom fiercer and more relaxed. Of course he couldn't see

the Tapestry as well, because his eyes could not focus sharply, but that hardly mattered because

he had seen just about everything before. Everything interesting, anyway: the big battle scenes,

the horrendous magical events, and the strange monsters. After the first couple of times it wasn't

much fun watching an ogre squeeze the juice from a boulder or twist a tree into a pretzel, or

seeing yet another herd of centaurs playing people-shoes. But here and there a mystery remained,

and that could be moderately intriguing.

For example, mere was the question of what had happened to Grandma Iris' talent. She was a

Sorceress of Illusion, who could on her better days make anything seem like anything else, and

sound and smell and feel like it too, so that it was almost impossible to tell what was what. That

could be a lot of fun! But in the last month she had lost a significant part of it—the visual

aspect, as she put it—so that while she could still make something sound like something it wasn't,

she could no longer make it look that way. Grandma Iris was old, of course, but Dolph could

understand how such a thing could be bothersome

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even so. Where had her Illusion gone? He had used the Tapestry to look for the missing talent but

had been unable to find it.

Then there was the matter of the roses. They grew in a special courtyard, a gift to his father

King Dor: five bright colors of them, signifying indifference, friendship, romance, love, and

death. One person stood in the center, surrounded by the bushes, and another plucked a rose, only

of the color that signified his or her attitude toward the other. The wrong color brought a

terrible scratch from the thorns. Dolph understood that much; the mystery was why anyone bothered.

Young men and young women came all the time to pick roses for each other—to prove their love, they

said. What was the point? What, for that matter, was love? All Dolph knew was that it related in

some devious way to the secret of summoning the stork so that it would bring a baby. He had tried

to trace the storks with the Tapestry, but though he had spotted them carrying babies, he had

never managed to discover how anyone signaled the stork in the first place. What was the big

secret?

This time he tuned the Tapestry in on the major mystery of all time: the disappearance of Good

Magician Humfrey. This had been discovered when Esk Ogre, Chex Centaur, and Volney Vole came

together to ask Questions, and had discovered the castle empty. They had looked at the Book of

Answers, but it turned out to be too technical for any normal person to understand; only the Good

Magician could interpret it, and he was gone. After that, King Dor had gone and taken the Book and

locked it up, so that it could come to no mischief while the Good Magician was absent. Everyone

had tried to find the Magician, but no one had succeeded. So for the past three years, the mystery

had prevailed. It seemed that no one but the Good Magician could solve the question of his

disappearance with his family. Meanwhile, there were no Answers to be had, and that was a great

frustration to many people and creatures of Xanth.

Dolph worried the riddle back and forth, like the wolf cub he was at the moment. Where could the

Good Magi-

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cian have gone so abruptly, leaving behind his castle and everything in it? It seemed to have

happened just before die trio came, because challenges had been set up for each of them. Normally

there were three barriers opposing the entry of anyone who came to ask a Question, and only those

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who won through could have the privilege of giving up a year's service to the Good Magician for

the Answer. His reputation was notorious. Once the Gorgon had come to ask the Magician if he would

marry her, and he had made her serve a year before Answering. Once Smash Ogre had come, but had

forgotten his Question; the Magician made him serve as a guardian to another querent, Tandy Nymph,

anyway. In due course the two of them fell in love and got married, and it seemed that was

sufficient Answer for each. They were Esk's parents. The Magician had lucked out again.

Now there were no barriers, no challenges, and the castle was deserted. Everybody agreed that the

Good Magician had to be found, but nobody knew how to do that. Any number of adventurers had set

out to locate him, and some of them had gotten lost themselves. It was a bad situation.

Wouldn't it be great if a mere nine-year-old boy solved the riddle of the age? What fun, to make

all the adults look stupid!

Dolph concentrated on the Tapestry. He could tune it in to any time and any place just by thinking

what he wanted. Most folk couldn't affect the pictures one way or the other, but he and Ivy were

Magicians (well, she was actually a Sorceress, which was vaguely inferior) and it obeyed them with

alacrity. He tuned it in to the day before Esk's arrival. If he could spot the Good Magician

actually leaving—

After some joggling around, he found the Good Magician's castle on the last day of the Magician's

presence. There was Humfrey in his study, looking about a century old (which he was) poring over

his tome. Once he had overdosed on Fountain of Youth elixir and become a young child; Dolph had

laughed at that, seeing it in the Tapestry. But then he had found out how to revert to his regular

age,

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and that wasn't much run to watch. There was the Gorgon downstairs making gorgon-zola cheese by

staring at milk through her veil. There was their son Hugo, about fifteen or sixteen years old,

supervising the placement of a cage of dragons on the bridge over the moat: one of the challenges

for the approaching querents. Everything seemed quite in order.

Dolph moved it forward, orienting on the precise time of departure. Was he the first to use the

Tapestry this way? Surely his father had thought to do this! Yet maybe not, because the mystery

had never been unriddled. Adults were sort of stupid, as a class. That was why they needed

Answers. Maybe that was why they so rigorously guarded the secret of summoning the stork:

otherwise the children would do that better, too.

Abruptly the image disappeared. Had something gone wrong with the Tapestry? Ivy would murder him

if that were the case! Hastily Dolph backed it up—and the image returned. It wasn't the Tapestry,

it was something in it mat blocked out the pictures.

He played it forward slowly, checking simultaneously on Humfrey, the Gorgon, and Hugo. It was

possible to do that, because the Tapestry had many pictures going at once; it would not tune in on

different times or places simultaneously, but it would show several scenes relating to a single

place and time. This was the group of the castle, its various rooms open like those of a doll

house. Humfrey was still poring over his tome—he never seemed to leave it!—while the Gorgon was

making up a petrified cheese salad in the kitchen, and Hugo was conjuring assorted fruits in his

bedroom. That was his talent, but he wasn't very good at it; the fruits tended to be misshapen and

oddly colored. Meanwhile, an elf was setting up some kind of device in a workroom, evidently on

Humfrey's orders. There were usually assorted creatures around the premises, working off their

years of service for their Answers, so that Humfrey had never lacked for assistants.

But something went wrong with the elf s project. Smoke started pouring from it. The elf retreated,

coughing. The smoke expanded, filling the chamber. Now the Gorgon

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perked up, sniffing; she cried out to Humfrey (the Tapestry conveyed no sound, but Dolph could see

her chest inflate, her mouth open, and he saw the reactions of the others as they heard), who

roused himself reluctantly from his tome and trundled downstairs. Hugo also came down, carrying a

blue-speckled bunch of bananas he had just conjured. They converged on the smoke.

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But the smoke did not wait for them. It doubled its effort and quickly filled several chambers.

The elf gesticulated, explaining, but the smoke was hot on his trail. More man that: it was

circling around them, forming an enclosure so that they could not escape it. Dolph realized that

it was no ordinary vapor, it was holy smoke! There was no telling what a big cloud of that would

do.

Magician Humfrey looked annoyed. He gestured, and the four of them hurried to one more chamber.

The smoke roiled up avidly, pursuing them. The stuff was out of control! As they squeezed through

the door, so did it, closing in. In a moment the chamber was filled, and the picture of mat region

blotted out.

This time Dolph played it on through. In a few minutes the smoke thinned and dissipated. But

Humfrey, Gorgon, and Hugo were gone. Only the elf remained, plainly distressed. He had evidently

lost track of the others in the smoke and did not know where they were.

When they did not reappear, the elf proceeded to shut down the castle, perhaps operating on

standard emergency instructions. He opened the cage and released the dragons at the moat, who took

off down the enchanted path with all the speed they could muster. That was a blunder, Dolph knew

that dragons weren't supposed to be on that path. When things were wrapped up, the elf departed

himself; apparently his own tour of duty was done now.

That was it, until the three querents arrived the next day. The Magician and his family had simply

gone up in smoke! Holy smoke!

Dolph played it back to the smoke, trying to find some angle that would penetrate the obscurity at

the key moment. Now he understood why the adults had not solved the mystery through the Tapestry;

the smoke had stopped

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them. But if his sharp eyes managed to see what theirs could not—

Dolph changed to griffin form. As a griffin he had excellent vision. Now—

"What are you doing in my room!?" Ivy demanded, bursting in upon him. "You brat of a brother—you

aren't supposed to be in here!!" Half her anger was real, half pretense; he could tell by the

doubled punctuation.

Dolph reverted to human form. What a stew of a picklement he was in now! He had gotten so absorbed

mat he never heard her returning. "I was just watching the Tapestry! If you*d let it hang in my

room for a while—"

"Never!!" she exclaimed. She was fourteen, and at the very total height of her bossiness; Dolph

knew that nothing, repeat NOTHING, was worse than a big sister that age. Her talent was Enhancing,

and it certainly enhanced her nature. It was futile even to attempt to reason with a creature like

that.

Therefore he didn't try. He changed into a giant poisonous spider and stood over her, mandibles

dripping.

Ivy screamed and retreated. "What utter ick!!" she cried in simulated horror. "He's finally

reverted to his true form!! I always knew he was creepy!!"

Somehow he was still getting the worst of this! She always managed to do it to him. He reverted to

boy form. "You mink you're so smart! I'm going to do something to make you look like harpy guano!"

He tried, but he just couldn't manage doubled exclamation points, unfortunately.

"Yeah? What, you little twerp!?"

"I'm going to go find the Good Magician and rescue him!"

She did not retort. She was too sneaky for that. She simply burst out laughing. She fell on her

bed, supposedly overcome by the mirth—and abruptly sobered. "There's werewolf hair on my bed!!"

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she exclaimed, outraged. Her moods could shift from horror to sardonic mirth to outrage with

incredible velocity.

Dolph realized that there was valor in judicious retreat. He changed into a mouse and scurried

out, leaving (he screams of sisterly ire behind.

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But the notion of searching out the Good Magician would not leave him. He had said it in the

spirit of a dare, to daunt his imperious sister, but now he could not retreat from it without

getting horribly razzed. Besides that, he was fed up with being the younger sibling, and wanted to

get out to make his own mark. Why not seek Good Magician Humfrey? He was as well equipped to

search as anyone; he was young, but he was a full Magician. If anything threatened him, he could

change into something to stop it in its tracks.

So he decided: he would do it. He would go to the Good Magician's castle and see whether there was

not some hint in that chamber that would show him where the Magician had gone. Then he could

follow.

There was, however, one small problem: his parents. They thought he was too young. Their answer to

anything ambitious was always that. While this was merely another proof of the opacity of adults,

it did need to be handled. After all, his father was King of Xanth, so could not be completely

ignored.

"Perhaps In a few years," King Dor suggested diplomatically. He was always the more liberal of the

two, but that counted for little in the face of Queen Irene's certainty.

"But the Good Magician needs to be found now!" Dolph exclaimed. "Everyone knows that!"

"I don't," his chair said.

"Shut up, wood-brain!" Dolph hissed.

"Don't call me names, smart-bottom!" the chair retorted, louder. "I'll run a splinter into you."

Dolph decided not to argue further. His father's talent was conversation with the inanimate, and

the inanimate wasn't very smart. In King Dor's presence anything was apt to talk, even when not

asked.

King Dor exchanged a glance with Queen Irene. Dolph knew that meant trouble. They were looking for

some way to keep him home without hurting his feelings. Parents were experts at stifling adventure

without seeming unreasonable.

"Perhaps if you had a suitable adult companion," Irene

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said. She was actually just as bossy as Ivy, but she masked it expertly. Her suggestions, however

mildly phrased, had the force of law.

Ouch! That was worse than a splinter! An adult companion would rain everything. Especially the

kind his mother would favor a centaur. Centaurs were entirely too disciplined and reasonable, and

they always wanted to educate children. Dolph had had more than enough tutoring for a lifetime.

Still, his mother had spoken. She knew he didn't want a companion, certainly not an adult. She

figured that would turn him off the Quest. But perhaps he could get around her by getting a

companion who wouldn't be too obnoxious. It could be a real art—getting around parents—but it was

possible if one truly put his mind to it.

"All right," he said. "But I get to choose him."

King Dor kept a straight face, which meant he was trying not to smile. That was a good sign. They

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both knew that Queen Irene would want a female centaur; if Dolph got this past her, he would win

half the battle at the outset.

"Very well," she said after a significant pause. "But we must approve him."

Urn. That could be a devastating qualification. She would not approve anyone he really liked, only

someone she liked. How could he get around mat?

Dolph had a quick, juvenile mind. In only three seconds he had figured out a way. "Done," he said.

"I'll make my choice tomorrow."

"Certainly," Queen Irene agreed with one of her smooth masked smiles. She thought she had him.

"This'll be fun, twerp," the chair remarked insolently.

King Dor said nothing. He knew better than to get in the way of a contest of wills like this. That

was why he was King.

Back in his room, Dolph pondered names. His strategy was simple: he would make a series of

suggestions so awful that his mother would reject them with queenly outrage. She was good at that.

Then he would slip in the one he wanted, and it would seem so sensible by cotnpari-

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son that she would agree before she really thought about it. She might regret it later, but she

would be committed. A Queen never went back on her word; it looked bad, and she was very conscious

of her appearance.

The one he had in mind was Grundy Golem. Grundy was an obnoxious, loudmouthed little creature,

fashioned from wood and string and rag and later made real by the Demon X(A/N)th. He had an insult

for every occasion. Therefore he could be a lot of fun. He also spoke every language mat existed,

both animal and plant, and mat could be handy on a trip into the wilds of Xanth. He was married to

Rapunzel, who was a sickeningly nice little woman at all times except when she got a snarl in her

hair. That was because her hair was endlessly long. Then she could speak almost as interestingly

as Grundy as she fought with the tangle. Grundy was devoted to her, but he liked adventure too, so

would probably agree to travel with Dolph.

Now all he needed was a suitably awful list of names. Who would really turn off his mother? Well,

there was Brontes the Cyclops, the huge one-eyed monster who lived -in a cave and ate people.

There was the Gerrymander, who was continually dividing and conquering, changing his shape into

the most grotesque configurations. And Pook, the ghost horse. But he needed more names, in case

his mother was too canny to be fooled by only three.

Dolph jumped on his bed, bounced a couple of times, then swung his legs over the side. A cold hand

shot out from the shadow under the bed and grabbed his ankle.

"Hey!" he cried. "You aren't Handy!" Handy was his regular bed monster.

"How can you tell?" a voice inquired from under the bed.

"His hand is big and hairy. Yours is skinny."

The hand let go. There was a scramble and clatter under the bed. "I resent mat! My hands have no

skin. They are skeletal." Then the thing under the bed crawled out. It was a walking skeleton.

"What are you doing under mere, Marrow?" Dolph asked. "Where's Handicraft?" He now used his bed

mon-

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ster's full name, because he was alarmed; he inherited that from his mother.

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"He went to visit Snortimer. I agreed to fill in while he was gone. We thought you wouldn't

notice/*

"Not notice!" Dolph exclaimed. "Your hand isn't anything like his! And you only have two of them!"

"True," Marrow agreed, disgruntled. "I suppose it was a foolish attempt. But he did so want to see

Snortimer again, and I had nothing to do, so—" He shrugged, his bones rattling apologetically.

"Why should he care about Snortimer?" That was Ivy's monster under the bed, who had departed for

the realm of the fauns and nymphs, taking Ivy's bed with him. Ivy never had gotten over her snit

about that, even though a bed-bug had moved in that was twice as big and soft as the bed she had

lost. She had declared herself to be grown up, so that she no longer believed in bed monsters. It

was Dolph's private opinion that Snortimer had gotten out just in time. It was doom for monsters

when children stopped believing in them. Dolph intended never to do that to Handy.

"It wasn't Snortimer so much as his situation," Marrow said. "The news circulated that he had more

nymphly ankles to grab than he could possibly keep up with, and was liable to perish from sheer

delight. Handy thought he should investigate the situation, in case Snort needed help."

"What's wrong with the ankles around here?" Dolph demanded.

"Oh, nothing, nothing, I'm sure," Marrow said quickly. "But it just would not do to have poor

Snortimer expire from overwork."

"Any monster who would rather grab a nymphly ankle man mine is a jerk!" Dolph declared

righteously. "What could he possibly see in them?"

"I admit to being baffled," Marrow said. "Full-fleshed ankles and legs—no appeal at all." Then,

diplomatically, he added: "Present company excepted, of course."

Dolph decided that Marrow was all right. The skeleton had arrived after Esk Ogre and Chex Centaur

restored the Kiss-Mee River to its curvaceous state, making it affec-

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donate again. Marrow had been rescued from the Lost Path in the gourd, and now served as a general

helper around the castle. He was especially good in the dungeon, because he didn't mind cobwebs or

rats. In fact, he normally rested his bones there, lending excellent atmosphere. Visitors not in

the know could be quite startled. He even had a convenient hollow finger bone, with which he could

whistle for his friend Chex when he needed a lift.

"Maybe I'll add you to the list," Dolph said.

"List?"

Dolph explained about his campaign to trick his mother into agreeing to let Grundy Golem be his

companion for the Quest. "You're adult, aren't you? You should qualify. You'd give her a real

fit!"

"Excellent notion," Marrow agreed. "Perhaps I can suggest some additional names. What about Cumulo

Fracto Nimbus?"

"Terrific!" Dolph exclaimed. "That will really dampen her!" Fracto was the King of Clouds, and was

a foul-weather friend. One could never tell when he was going to throw a storm and tear things up

with lightning bolts. The very notion of Fracto hovering over her carpets would send Queen Irene

into a femalish frenzy.

"Then there's Hardy Harpy, and Xap Hippogryph," Marrow said. "Not to mention Stanley Steamer."

"Great!" Dolph agreed enthusiastically. "Those will drive her crazy! She won't know what she's

doing!"

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So it was decided. Marrow crawled back under the bed, which was as comfortable a place for his

bones as any, and Dolph tuned his magic mirror in on the Tapestry in Ivy's room. Unfortunately she

was letting it run random; there was nothing interesting on. That was the problem with big

sisters; they had no taste in viewing.

Next day he started his program. "Marrow Bones," he

said. "I want him for my companion." Irene nodded. "Yes, I think that is an excellent choice."

"Well, then, how about Cumulo Fracto Nim—what?" "Marrow is adult, mature, and experienced," Irene

said.

"He has a good skull on his shoulders. I understand he

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was a great help to Chex Centaur. There is also no problem about feeding him. I commend you for

your perspicacity in selecting him."

Dolph didn't know what "perspicacity" meant, but he knew he didn't like it. How could she agree to

the first foolish name he had named? It wasn't fair! Now he was stuck with the walking skeleton!

"Uh, yeah," he said. Maybe Marrow wouldn't want to go.

But by the time he got back to his room, he decided that maybe it was better to stick with what he

had. Marrow was a decent sort; for one thing, not only did he believe in the monster under the

bed, he helped him. That made him childlike in a way that counted. He would do anything for

anyone, and he could keep a secret.

So it was arranged: Dolph would go on his Quest to solve the mystery of the Good Magician's

disappearance, and Marrow Bones would be his companion. The Adventure would Begin.

Chapter 2. Message

I hey set off next morning, walking east along the enchanted path. It was a two day trek at normal

human pace, so Irene had made Dolph wear a knapsack filled with sandwiches, spare socks, a small

magic mirror, and other such motherly inconveniences. "Be sure to wash your face every morning,"

she had admonished him. "And don't forget behind the ears." Dolph had almost died of disgust right

there.

Marrow carried nothing, for he had need of neither food nor clothing. He was a magical creature,

for whom the rules were different. As Dolph's legs began to tire from the long walk, he envied the

skeleton increasingly.

"What makes you go?" he inquired.

"Magic. And you?"

So much for that conversation! Evidently skeletons were not strong on imagination. That wasn't

surprising, considering their empty skulls.

"I'm hungry," Dolph said.

"That's why your mother packed sandwiches."

That reminder did not thrill him either. "I could change into a dragon and catch myself something

to eat."

"I have never understood why living folk like torn flesh," Marrow remarked.

Suddenly Dolph wasn't hungry. He continued walking in his human form.

"If I may inquire . . ."the skeleton said.

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"Who's stopping you?"

"Why are we walking?"

How stupid could a creature get? "How else can we get to the Good Magician's castle?"

"I thought you might change into a bird and fly mere."

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"Mother said I have to have adult company," Dolph said witheringly. "And you can't fly."

"Can you change into a big bird?"

"Sure. Any size. Even a roc. So what?"

"I thought you might become such a bird, and carry me directly to the castle."

Now there was an idea! Dolph stopped, removed his pack, men hesitated. "I have to get out of my

clothes because they don't change."

"I shall be happy to hold your pack and your clothes," Marrow said.

"But Mother doesn't like me to run around naked."

"That's odd. I don't see your mother here."

"Of course she isn't here, numbskull! She's back at Castle Roogna!" Then Dolph made a connection.

"You mean—she can't say no?"

"That had occurred to me."

Maybe the skeleton wasn't so stupid after all. Dolph scrambled out of his clothes, bundled them

up, and handed mem to Marrow with the knapsack. Then he changed to a roc.

Now he was monstrously hugely big! He clucked with satisfaction. Rocs couldn't talk in human

fashion, but they hardly needed to. Nobody backtalked a roc!

"But perhaps—" Marrow began.

Was he chickening out now? Well, it was too late.

Dolph picked up the skeleton with one claw, spread his wings—and whacked his feathers into the

trees on either side. Ouch!

"—we should look for a suitable clearing first," Marrow concluded.

Good point. Dolph reverted to human form, recovered his clothes, dressed, and resumed motion down

the path. Why did things always have to get complicated?

In due course they came to a glade that seemed big enough. Dolph changed again, spread his wings

cautiously, and verified that there was room.

"Still—" Marrow said.

Dolph picked up the skeleton again, pumped his wings— and sailed into the trees at the edge of the

glade. He

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suffered a horrendous crash, and the trees seemed hardly more pleased than he. A small shower of

leaves came down.

"—we should look for a longer runway," Marrow concluded.

Dolph reverted to boy form and picked himself up. His left little finger was hurting. Then he saw

a broken feather on the ground, and realized that he had lost it in the crash. Part of his

fingernail was missing. The injuries suffered in one form carried over into the other. He stuck

his finger in his mouth, displeased.

They marched on, and before long came to a broad expanse of fields. Dolph changed again, spread

his wings, sighted ahead to make sure he had sufficient runway, and picked up the skeleton.

"Yet—" Marrow said.

This time Dolph paused.

"—perhaps we should check for the wind," Marrow concluded.

The wind? Dolph lifted his beak. He felt a nice stiff breeze blowing in exactly the direction he

wanted to fly. No problem there! He began to flap his wings.

"Because—" Marrow said.

Dolph pumped harder, and hopped into the air. Immediately he was moving, borne by the breeze. But

though he flapped hard, somehow he could not rise very far. In a moment a low hill came up and

scraped his legs, throwing him out of control. He skidded to a stop, losing another feather.

"—a tailwind can make it difficult to gain elevation," the skeleton concluded.

Dolph resumed boy form. There was a gash on his right (high that smarted something awful. "Have

you any other remarks to make?" he asked acidly.

"Me? Of course not," Marrow said.

"Well, then, how can I get into the air when everything always goes wrong?''

"Perhaps if you take off into a headwind, it will be more effective."

"But the wind will push me back!"

Heaven Cent

"I confess that it seems nonsensical, but I have seen birds do it that way."

"Well, okay, but if I crash again, it's your fault!"

"Naturally," Marrow agreed without rancor. His blood never got riled, because he had none.

They walked downwind until they had plenty of runway. Then Dolph changed yet again, oriented,

spread his wings, picked up the skeleton, and paused.

Sure enough, Marrow had a thought. "Yet—"

This time Dolph waited for the conclusion.

"—perhaps you should eat first."

Eat? He was hungry, but that could wait. He was eager to get on to the Good Magician's castle and

get on with the adventure!

He pumped his wings and jumped into the air. The headwind caught him immediately, giving him

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excellent lift. There was no question about his ability to fly high now! He was on his way!

Then he furled his wings somewhat and glided back to ground. He made a pretty good landing, then

changed back to boy form. "Why?"

"Because I understand that flying requires a lot of energy, and energy for living creatures comes

from the food they ingest," Marrow explained.

Dolph thought about what would happen if he ran out of energy over some deep ocean or where a

dragon was lurking nearby. "Okay, I'll eat. Give me my knapsack."

"I wonder—"

Dolph impatiently grabbed the knapsack. He fished out a sandwich, then paused.

"—whether energy is relative or absolute," Marrow finished.

"What are you talking about?"

"It occurs to me mat you have sandwiches for only a few meals. They might go farther if—"

Dolph opened his mouth to take a huge bite, but paused again, bite untaken. He waited.

"—you consumed them in smaller size."

Dolph thought about that. "You know, when I'm in a big form, like a sphinx, I can eat an awful

lot, but I get

Heaven Cent

hungry again the same time even if I turn small. When I'm small, and I eat, then I turn big and I

still get hungry in the same time. I never thought about it before."

"So if you ate a crumb in ant form, it might last you as long as a whole sandwich in boy form, or

a whole carcass in roc form," Marrow said.

"I guess so." Dolph looked at the sandwich. "But if I became an ant, someone might step on me."

Marrow picked a bit of bread from the sandwich and held it in his bone-fingered hand. "I will not

step on you."

And of course he would not; Marrow never hurt anyone. Dolph realized that this was one excellent

use of a companion: to protect him when for some reason he was in a vulnerable state. Of course,

he would not go so far as to concede that his mother might have had a point about the need for a

companion, but certainly there could be an advantage.

He reached out and took hold of the end of Marrow's bone finger with two of his own flesh fingers.

Then he became an ant. Suddenly he was clinging by the hairs of one leg to that huge white bone.

But in the small form he weighed so little that it was easy to cling, and indeed, if he fell he

would not be hurt. He climbed up to die top of the finger, then walked along it to the network of

bones that was the hand. There perched the crumb. He bit into it, and it was delicious, the ideal

ant food.

Soon he was full, and the crumb was only partly gone. He walked to the end of a finger and jumped

off. As he fell he changed back to boy form. He still felt full. "Let's go!" he said. "I'm full of

energy now!"

Marrow gathered up the pack and clothing again, and Dolph turned into the roc again, and picked up

the skeleton. He spread his wings.

"I suspect—" Marrow began.

Dolph waited. He bad learned to pay attention. His mother would have approved of that!

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Anthony, Piers - Xanth 11 - Heaven Cent

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