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Authors: Piers Anthony

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Science Fiction, #Xanth (Imaginary place)

Vale of the Vole (6 page)

BOOK: Vale of the Vole
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While they ate, they conversed. Esk and Chex told of their backgrounds and missions to the Good Magician, and Volney told of his.

The civilized voles were not, he explained, extinct. They had merely departed for a greener pasture, some centuries ago. The larger family of voles comprised burrowing creatures ranging from the tiny, vicious wiggle larvae to the huge amiable diggles, with many varieties of squiggles between. Because the civilized voles avoided publicity, most other creatures hardly knew of them, and regarded the squiggles as the dominant representatives of the type. The region of Xanth between Castle Roogna and the Gap Chasm had been getting crowded, so the voles had in due course traveled into the wilderness to the east, where they had settled by the meandering shores of the friendly Kiss-Mee River.

"Yes, I saw that on Mother's map," Chex said. "The Kiss-Mee River connects Lake Kiss-Mee with Lake Ogre-Chobee. It is an almost unexplored region of Xanth, and little is known about the details of its geography."

"Which iv the way we like it," Volney responded. "For centuriev we have burrowed there in private comfort. But now—"

"Something happened?" Esk asked, getting interested. Geography was not his favorite subject, but happenings had greater appeal.

"Divavter," Volney agreed. "It iv that horror I have come here to ameliorate. I wav choven to make thiv divreputable journey becauve of my ekvellent command of the vtrange language of the vurfave folk."

"Yes, you speak it very well," Chex said quickly, forestalling the somewhat less sensitive remark Esk was about to make.

"However, I note you have vome difficulty with your ewev," the vole said discreetly.

"Some dif—" Esk started, but was cut off by a flick of Chex's tail that stung his mouth with uncanny accuracy. The strike was not hard, but made him feel strangely light-headed. Sometimes she understood him almost too well!

"We all must do the best we can," Chex said gently. "Even those of us who have difficulty with our esses. Just what is this disaster you have come to ameliorate?"

"The very devtrucvion of the Vale of the Vole," he pronounced with feeling.

"The Vale of the Vole!" Chex repeated. "What a marvelously evocative name!"

"But the foul demonv devavtated it," Volney said sadly.

Esk lifted his head. "I smell smoke," he said.

Sure enough, another little smoker was coming along the path from the west. It spied them and let out a hungry puff.

"Get on the south path!" Esk snapped. Chex and Volney scrambled for it, leaving the east-west path clear.

Esk stationed himself just south of the intersection and waited. As the dragon charged up, he murmured "no."

The dragon tried to stop, but Esk said "no" again. Therefore the creature's feet kept going, carrying it right on by the intersection. In a moment it was out of sight, still traveling east.

"Very nice," Chex said. "First you stopped its attack, then you stopped its reversal. It had to keep on going, by which time it had lost track of what it had been after."

She understood his effort almost better than he did!

"That iv uvful magic," Volney agreed. "I regret I have no vuch talent."

"Don't voles have magic?" Esk asked.

"Nothing vignificant. We merely dig."

"You were about to tell us what happened to the Vale of the Vole," Chex said.

"Ah, yev, and a vad vtory it iv," Volney said sadly. He went on to describe how the foul demons, who had previously shared the Vale almost unnoticed, decided to destroy the friendly Kiss-Mee River. Apparently its meandering contours displeased them, so they invoked monstrous magic and pulled the river straight.

"No more curves?" Chex asked, shocked. She was, of course, a creature of many esthetic curves.

"Does it matter?" Esk asked, somewhat duller about the esthetics. He was a creature of irregular lines and bumps.

"Of course it matters!" Chex exclaimed, her eyes almost flashing. "Just how friendly do you suppose a straight-line river is?"

"It iv unfriendly to the land, too," Volney said. He explained how the water now coursed directly down the straight channel, not pausing to support the fish isolated by its loss of loops and eddies, and was leaving many water-loving plants dry. The lush vale was becoming a barren valley. The lovely moist soil that the voles had dug in was now turning to dry sand and dust, and their tunnels were eroding. Paradise was converting to wasteland. Indeed, the remnant of the waterway was now known as the Kill-Mee.

"But can't you dig out new curves for the river to kiss?" Chex asked. "Can't you restore it to its natural state?"

It turned out that the voles could not, because the demons maintained guard and harassed anyone who tried to tamper with their inimical design. The voles were diggers, not fighters, and were helpless before the violence of the demons. If they could not restore the river, they would have to leave—but they knew there was no other region of Xanth as good as the Vale of the Vole had been. So Volney was now coming to ask the Good Magician for the answer to their problem: how to stop the demons from interfering with the restoration of the Kiss-Mee River.

"That's funny," Esk said.

Chex stared at him. "I find nothing humorous about the situation," she said severely.

"I mean, I'm looking for the Good Magician to learn how to stop another demon," he explained. "She came to take my hideout because things weren't so nice back where she came from. If the demons live in the Vale of the Vole, and they have fixed it up to suit themselves, why did she have to leave?"

"Maybe she came from some other area," Chex said.

"No, she mentioned the Vale, or maybe the Kiss-Mee, I'm sure of that. I remember it clearly because she—" But he didn't want to talk about the

kisses the demoness had offered him. Because it hadn't been exactly kisses proffered.

"Perhapv vhe iv an unlovely demonew," Volney said. "Vo the otherv vent her away."

"No, she's a lovely creature," Esk said. "That is, I mean, she can assume any form she wants, and that includes luscious—I mean sexy— uh, that is—"

"We are getting a notion what that is," Chex remarked dryly. "She did vamp you, didn't she!"

"Well, she offered, but—but I—I am trying to get rid of her. Anyway, what would be ugly to a demon, who can assume any shape? I don't think she would have left for that reason. Actually, she said it was the hummers that drove her away."

"Hummingbirds?" Chex asked, perplexed.

"No, these are something that mortals can't hear, but that drive demons crazy. So she left. So maybe it's ironic, that they straightened out the river but still aren't satisfied."

"Hummerv," Volney repeated musingly. "We may have heard of them. One of us overheard a demon say it was to get rid of them that they straightened the river. But we don't know what they are."

"Well, it seems to me that if you could just find out what they are," Chex said, "you might use them to make all the demons move out. Then you could restore the river, and the Vale of the Vole would be friendly again."

"Yev. Maybe the Good Magivian will tell uv that."

They moved on south along the path, through the big trees. But they had used up time resting and talking, and darkness was looming up from the gloom below the forest. "We had better make a good camp for the night," Esk said. "Maybe we can set up some stakes to hinder the dragons."

There was a crack of thunder. "We'll need more than that to keep from getting soaked," Chex said.

Esk squinted at the looming clouds. "We won't get soaked. That's a color hailstorm!"

She looked more carefully. "Why so it is! We had better get under cover. There's no telling how large those hailstones will be. And of course we'll still get wet when they melt."

"A storm iv bad?" Volney asked.

"It can be bad," Chex agreed. "It is best to play safe, and find suitable cover. But there seems to be little loose wood here to fashion a shelter; we may have to lean against the lee side of trees."

"Why not go under?"

"Under what?" Esk asked.

"Underground. We never vtay up when it iv uncomfortable above. In fact, we veldom vtay long above anyway."

"I can't go underground!" Chex protested.

Indeed, it would take a giant tunnel to get her below! But the storm was looming closer, and a veil of pastel colors was drawing down. They were certainly in for it.

Esk spied a fallen trunk. Abruptly he strode over to it, his ogre strength surging. He picked it up and swung it against the trunk of a giant standing tree. It splintered. He picked up the largest fragment and broke it against the tree, then took several of the remaining pieces and wove them together, forming a crude platform. He jammed the stoutest fragments into the ground vertically, then heaved the platform onto them.

Then his strength receded, and he was normal again, and tired. "You'll have to finish it," he gasped. "That's just the frame."

"That is good enough!" Chex exclaimed. She swept up an armful of brush and heaved it onto the platform. "That should stop the hailstones," she said as she gathered more. "When they melt, it will drip though, but I can stand getting wet. Thank you, Esk."

Meanwhile, Volney was digging. Where he had been there was now a mound of dirt and a hole in the ground. He was fast, all right!

The storm struck. Yellow hailstones crashed down through the foliage and bounced on the ground, leaving little dents.

Chex got under her shelter. She had to duck her head and finally lie down, because it wasn't high enough, but it did provide protection.

Volney's snout appeared in the hole. "Evk!" he squeaked. "Here! There iv room!"

Esk scrambled for the hole as the hailstones bounced around him. They were becoming blue, now, and he knew that those were colder and therefore harder than the yellow ones. They would hurt!

He half slid into the hole. It descended for a body length, then curved, descended some more, and curved again. Hailstones were following him, rolling down. Then it rose, and debouched into a larger section; he could tell by the widening of the walls, but could not see anything in the dark. He moved into this, and came up against warm fur.

"There iv room for both," Volney said. "The stonev and water vtay below."

This was a nice, cozy design! The vole had hollowed out a den that was

bound to remain dry, unless there got to be so much melt that it filled the whole tunnel.

"But suppose a dragon comes?" he asked.

"Then I vtrike the vupport, and the tunnel collapvev," the vole replied confidently. "No predator ever caught a vole in a hole."

And of course the dragons would not be foraging far during the storm, Esk realized. They didn't like getting battered any more than other creatures did. That meant that Chex should be safe enough too.

After a brief time the storm passed on. Esk sought to return to the surface, but the tunnel was entirely blocked by hailstones.

"Have no convern," Volney said. "I will make a new ekvit." In moments he did so, tunneling down, then around and up. The excavated dirt piled into one side of the main chamber, evidently intended for such storage.

Esk followed the vole, amazed by the velocity of the digging. "How do you do it so fast?" he asked.

Volney paused in the darkness, turning within the tunnel though it was only his own body width in diameter. "My vilver talonv," he explained. "Feel."

Esk felt, cautiously, and found cold metal. It seemed that the vole donned the talons as a man would gauntlets. "Where do you carry such things? I never saw them before."

"I have a pouch for nevevvary toolv," Volney explained. Then he turned again and resumed his digging. Esk had to crowd to the left to avoid the dirt flying on the right.

Soon they broke surface. A shower of melting hailstones came down. They scrambled up through them, and stood knee-deep on Esk, waist-deep on Volney, in the forming, colored slush. Much had fallen in that brief span!

Chex was under her shelter, almost hidden, for the stones were mounded above and around it. "I was worried you would drown down there!" she called.

"No, Volney has a really cozy den below," Esk said. "He is a truly amazing digger!"

"No, only average," the vole demurred. "It is merely my volivh nature."

Nevertheless, Esk was discovering Volney to be as interesting and useful a companion as Chex. This group of travelers was random, but seemed about as good as could have been chosen for such a journey.

They set up a three-way guard roster, with Esk taking the first watch and Chex the last, in deference to the amount of time she had spent the

prior night. Esk doubted that any dragons would appear until the slush had subsided, but he didn't care to gamble, and neither did the others.

Volney disappeared into his hole, and Chex settled down on a nearby elevation she cleared of slush. The shelter was useless for the time being, because of the mass of dripping slush on top.

He walked up and down the path, keeping himself alert as long as he could. The stars came out and flickered at him through the waving foliage. It was pleasant, and he was not at all lonely. He knew he would have been, by himself. It was nice making new acquaintances who had a similar mission and dissimilar talents. Too bad they would soon find the Good Magician's castle and have to separate.

BOOK: Vale of the Vole
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