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easier trail to follow.
But Midrange did not forget caution. The hound and bird had walked blithely into some kind of trap,
and the cat was not eager to walk into the same trap. So once he was sure of the trail, he left it, looping
around, slinking behind rocks and brush and trees as if stalking prey. Every so often he let fly another
clone, to further confuse any possible watcher. Then he would sneak up on the trail and verify it in
passing, as if not noticing it. It would be hard for any observer to tell exactly what he was up to.
He came to a deep crevice. The trail came to the brink and followed along it. Presumably the dog had
found a place to cross it. The thing was too wide to jump. So how was Midrange to cross it, without
slavishly following the exact route of the hound? Which he didn't want to do, because that might be right
where the trap had sprung.
He sniffed around, and found some flowers. What good were flowers? So he went on. Then something
snarled at him from the brush. Midrange leaped onto the nearest tree trunk.
He looked down, and saw that it was only a little doglike creature. "What are you?" he demanded,
annoyed because he had been affrighted while off-guard.
"I'm a snarl," the little canine growled. "Can't you tell, pussy?"
This creature was not endearing himself. For reasons he didn't care to go into, Midrange did not like to
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be called pussy, especially in that tone. "No, I can't tell; you look more like a yelp to me," he retorted.
"Where did you come from-a sick tangle tree?"
"Not quite. I was brushed out of a girl's hair. But she dropped me and left before I could adopt her as a
pet. I'm not pleased. That's why I remain in a snarl." He glanced at Midrange. "I don't suppose you're
looking for a proprietor?"
Midrange opened his mouth to say something truly catty, but caught himself. This creature just might be
useful. It obviously wasn't a phantom. "I may be looking for a companion," he said carefully. "If he's
useful."
"Useful?"
"I'm looking for a big dog and a small bird. Have you seen any such?"
"Actually I did, about two barks ago. They were following a wraith bleep."
"A wraith what?"
"The humans have this stupid Adult Conspiracy that forbids them to say the name of a female dog in the
presence of a child. Since I derive from the snarled hair of a child, I, too, am bound by it. Idiotic, I
know, but there it is."
Oh. "You did see them? Which, way did they go?"
" That way." The snarl pointed his pug nose. "The wraith was one extremely fetching bleep, I must say;
if she'd been of my species, I would have followed her too. She even smelled right. The bird protested,
but couldn't stop him."
Which seemed to be one difference between a wraith and a phantom. The wraiths could emulate
creatures completely, except for their solidity. So Woofer, the big male idiot, had followed her, and
Tweeter had had to go along lest they be separated.
Midrange decided to trust Snarl a bit, mainly because it might help him get on with his mission. "I need
to cross this cleft, but I can't see a way. Do you know a way?"
"Certainly. Just use one of those daisies there." The nose pointed at the flowers.
"What good are they?"
"They're upsy-daisies. They grow into ladders to help you up, if you pick them and invoke them by
saying their name."
Well, now. Midrange went to the flowers and picked one. He carried it to the edge of the crack and set it
down. "Upsy-daisy," he said.
The flower expanded. Its petals became spokes. They formed into a growing ladder. It was just long
enough to bridge the chasm.
"Help me put this across, " Midrange said.
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"I shall." Snarl took part of the ladder in his teeth, and Midrange pawed at the end, and they managed to
swing it awkwardly around until it fell across the gap. Then they walked somewhat gingerly across the
rungs. Midrange, of course, had excellent feline balance, but Snarl didn't. He almost fell, but fortunately
his legs poked through inside the ladder, and he was able to scramble back up.
They started walking along the far side, in the direction Woofer had gone. "Let me know if you pick up
the trail," Midrange said. He could pick it up himself, but wanted to see whether the animal was playing
straight with him. One of the smarter qualities of cats, of the multitude of good ones, was not to trust
anyone too readily.
Every so often Midrange flung off another clone cat, though nobody seemed to be spying on them.
"That's a nice magic talent you have," Snarl said admiringly. Midrange didn't bother to clarify how he
had come by it; the little canine had no need to know.
Soon they came to a narrowing of the chasm, and sure enough, the trail resumed there. "Got it!" Snarl
said.
Good enough; the canine was playing it straight. "Let's loop around and intercept it farther along,"
Midrange said, not explaining why. Snarl agreed; he seemed to be quite companionable, now that he had
a companion. He probably would have made that little girl a good associate.
Then Midrange thought of something. "I'm new to Xanth," he confessed. "From Mundania, actually.
How is it that we animals learned to talk?"
"Everyone talks, in Xanth," Snarl explained. "Because of the magic. And the magic's getting much
stronger now, for some reason."
"Because of the storm blowing magic dust in," Midrange said. "But soon it will be too strong, and there
will be madness."
"You have learned a lot," Snarl said admiringly.
"Not enough. We animals always could understand most of what the human beings were saying, and we
understood each other, in a general way. But since coming into Xanth, we have all grown much smarter,
and now we can talk fluently with each other and with other creatures. We couldn't do that before."
"It's because of the Xanth common languages," Snarl said. "I have heard, though it surely isn't true, that [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]