Piers Anthony - Heaven Cent (The Xanth Series, 11)

Disgruntled, Marrow Bones settled himself into the dragon's nest. He did not like this at all. He should not have let Dolph go to the ceremony; the boy was only nine years old, which was young by human standards, and could get into all sorts of mischief without adult supervision. Draco seemed to be an honorable dragon, so probably would not break the truce, but there would be many monsters there who were hungry and not pledged to pass up such a morsel. Even if Dolph remained undiscovered, there could be trouble. This was to be a wedding ceremony, and centaurs were notoriously open about natural functions; suppose someone let slip the secret of stork summoning in the boy's presence? Dolph's body might not be hurt, but his mind could be irreparably changed.

Even if Dolph made it back safely in body and mind, there would still be the matter of the firewater opal. The truce was only that; when it ended, there would be battle again, and the sides seemed evenly matched. Marrow had believed that the boy could assume a form that would thwart the dragon; otherwise he would have been more cautious about this encounter. But Draco was an uncommonly savvy dragon, and this was Draco's home territory. Suppose Dolph made a mistake and got severely chomped? That would be Marrow's responsibility too. Queen Irene might be watching from Castle Roogna via the Tapestry, but her avenues of rescue would be sharply limited. She would have to send help, perhaps a man with a dragon net, but could this arrive in time? Marrow seriously doubted it. This Quest had gotten seriously out of hand!

But things had happened too quickly for his hollow head to assimilate, and the boy had gone off to the ceremony. For all the likely folly of it, Marrow could understand Dolph's interest. Chex was a fine mare, and this was likely to be a fine wedding. Obviously the stubborn centaur community would not sanction such an event, so it was up to the monsters. Marrow could not understand why the centaurs, an obvious crossbreed between the human and the equine folk, were so insistent on the purity of the species. They were similarly conservative about magic, exiling any centaur who evinced a magic talent. Yet without crossbreeding and magic, where would Xanth be? As dull as Mundania, almost by definition! Not only did the Mundanes practice neither, they believed that neither was possible. It simply was not feasible to relate to the Mundane attitude; the Mundanes just had to be left to their own drear existence.

Well, at least he could locate the firewater opal while he waited. He would not take it, of course; he had agreed to protect the nest during the dragon's absence, however sloppily the agreement had been foisted on him, and he would do that to the best of his limited ability. But when they returned, and resumed the battle, the gem would be needed. Assuming that Dolph won-and of course he had to win, because otherwise they would be unable to redeem Grace'l from the merwoman.

Grace'l. Now there was a pretty thought! Marrow realized that he had been long away from the gourd, and from his own kind; the notion of a companion skeleton was quite appealing. Grace'l had the most shapely bones he could remember. Of course she would be returning to the gourd in due course-yet she had declined when given the opportunity. Dolph had demonstrated his ability to assume the form of a gourd, so that meant that Grace'l could return home at any time. Why had she not done so?

It was most tempting to believe that she found Marrow's company as intriguing as he found hers. Marrow had been lost for a long time before being found and brought to Xanth; he had forgotten what romantic experience he might have had. His recent experiences outside the gourd had deepened and broadened and lengthened his awareness of many things, and changed his perspective, so that he was no longer truly a creature of the gourd. He knew that he would now be a poor hand at the construction of bad dreams; no self-respecting night mare would accept one of his efforts. He didn't even scare people anymore! So it was possible that he did not impress Grace'l. But she impressed him, and if she elected to remain longer in Xanth

His thoughts were brought to a rude halt by a sinister sound. The fading thoughts rattled around in his skull for a moment before settling into a formless mass and sinking out of sight. He focused his attention on the sound.

It was a quiet tapping elsewhere in the cave. He knew it was not normal, because the bats stirred. Did you do that, you airhead? Brick Bat chittered.

No, guano-face, he replied.

Listen, bone-brain, if you weren't on that nest, I'd show you some guano! Why Lord Draco tolerates you there I'll never understand! The other bats echoed the sentiment.

That's because you're bats, Marrow said with satisfaction. Are you going to investigate that suspicious sound or aren't you?

The bat chittered something indecipherable and flew off to investigate. Marrow, abruptly nervous about prospects, resumed his quest for the firewater opal. Could something be coming to raid the nest during the dragon's absence? He had hoped that all would be quiet; he had problems enough worrying about Dolph.

The tapping continued. After a moment a bat flew to perch at the edge of the nest. Hey, emaciated, I don't like this, Brick confided. Sounds as if something is tunneling through the wall.

I don't like it either, skin-wing. Do you think something caught on to Draco's absence? I could blow my whistle and summon him back.

Don't blow the whistle! the bat cried. If we bring him back, and it's nothing, and he misses the ceremony because of us, he'll toast us all to ashes!

Marrow was inclined to respect Brick's judgment in this matter. They certainly didn't want a false alarm. They were now allies in their desire to avoid trouble. Could it be a rockworm who lost its way?

Rockworms don't tap, they grind.

Better keep a good ear on it, then, Marrow decided. Just remember, if there's trouble, we're on the same side until the dragon returns.

More's the pity, bare-skull, Brick said, taking off.

Marrow kept searching. Suddenly he spied it: a beautiful stone that glinted with liquid fire. The firewater opal!

Then he stared. There were two of them! He nibbed his eye sockets with a bone finger, but the stones remained. He picked them up. It was true: twin opals. Which one was the merwoman's?

Brick flew back. We heard voices. Now we know: it's goblins!

Goblins! Here?

They live deeper in the mountain, under the naga. Usually they don't come near here.

The naga?

Snakes. They don't bother us, and the goblins don't bother them. Much. But if the goblins are coming here, there's only one reason.

The gems of this nest.

How did you guess, hollow-noggin?

I was fortunate, fly-by-night. Should I blow my whistle?

The bat considered. Maybe there's only a few of them. We could handle that ourselves. If we called Lord Draco over a minor matter, he would strip our wings and make us do forced marches over the stalagmites.

Let's wait and see, then. It was evident that the dragon did not like to be bothered about trifles, and had ways of discouraging this.

Brick flew off. Marrow set the two opals down, and pondered the situation. If the goblins were coming, it had to be because they had seen the dragon departing or because they knew of the ceremony and had timed their raid to coincide. That probably meant they were equipped to handle the bats, who really weren't such a bad threat. Probably they did not know about Marrow, though. Could he defend the nest adequately alone?