Castle Roogna (33 page)

       Dor considered this. He took several steps forward, whistling, watching-and the antenna swiveled to follow his progress. No doubt about it now. The thing was focusing on him.

       Well, plants were also wise to keep track of mobile creatures, for the approach of monster or man could signal instant destruction-especially if it were a salamander in a bad mood, or a man looking for wood to build a house. What better way to keep informed than a rotary antenna! So this was probably harmless. Dor had been concerned because he had seen the movement without an object. He had been thinking in terms of animals or tangle trees, not simple wooden rotation.

       He walked on with renewed confidence, still whistling. More of the antenna-plants were evident now; this seemed to be the mature stage of the bush. The little ones at the fringe had no antennae; the medium ones had antennae but couldn't rotate them; the grown ones were fully operative.

       Just so long as they did nothing but watch…Assuming they could watch without eyes. Probably they could; Dor knew there were other senses than man's, some just as effective. Maybe the plants resonated to sounds, hence reacted to his laughter, which must seem strange indeed to them. Or to the heat of his body. Or the smell of his sweat. How would they react to the zombies? He smiled privately; the zombies might make quite a stir wherever they passed!

       The forest-for such it had become-opened into a grassy glade. In the center there was a depression, and there was a mound in it. The mound appeared to be made of wood, yet had no branches or leaves. What was it?

       The antenna-trees merely looked; they did not act. That would not protect this forest from threats unless there was something else. Something that could act, once the trees had pinpointed the threat. Could this be an action device?

       Dor would ordinarily have left it alone, for it could be folly to mess with things not understood. But he was scouting a path for the zombie army, and he did not want to lead it into some devious trap. Probably this growth was harmless, as it seemed to be immobile. But he had to be sure.

       He was not so foolish as to step on it, of course. He cast about for deadwood, found an old dry branch, and used it to poke the object. He could just reach it, this way, standing on the rim of the depression. He would not have been surprised if water poured forth in a fountain, filling the bowl, or if the knob had sunk into an awesome hole. This whole woods could be carnivorous, luring animals to the center, dumping them into its maw-

       But nothing happened. His speculations had been foolish. Why should trees go to so much trouble, when it was so much easier simply to grab passing prey, as tanglers did, or to repel intrusions by brambles or forget spells or bad odors? There had been no lure, either; he had come here only because he needed a good route through.

       Well, whatever it was did seem to be inert, therefore probably harmless. The zombies could pass safely. Dor turned about and saw Jumper.

       "There seems to be no threat," Jumper chittered. "Have you determined the nature of this formation?"

       Dor froze. The spider had come up quietly behind him, sneaking up, intent on mischief. Only by chance had Dor turned in time. Now the sinister creature was pretending to be innocuous, until he could get close enough to bite off Dor's head with his gruesome chelicerae.

       "Is there something the matter?" Jumper chittered, his ugly huge green front orbs glinting evilly. "You look unwell. May I rendder assistance?" And the monster took a step toward Dor with his hairy long legs. Dor whipped out his sword. "Back, traitor!" he cried. "Come not near me!"

       The spider stepped artfully back, as if confused, only far enough to remain beyond slash range. "Friend, what is the meaning of this? I seek only to help."

       Goaded beyond endurance by the thing's duplicity, Dor lunged. The sword sped forward with a precision that would have been unattainable by his own body. But the hairy arachnid jumped right over his head, out of the way.

       Dor whirled. Jumper had landed on the wooden knob. Even in his righteous rage, Dor had some caution; he did not wish to step into that mysterious depression. So he stood at the rim, on guard, watching the enemy spider.

       Jumper's attitude had changed. He balanced neatly on six legs, his long front two legs stroking the air softly. Dor recognized this as a fighting stance. "So you attack me without provocation?" the creature demanded, and there was a harsh edge to his chitter. "I should have known better than to trust an alien thing."

       The stick Dor had used to poke the knob lay at his feet. He picked it up awkwardly with his left hand, keeping his sword ready with his right. "You were the one who betrayed trust!" he cried, poking at the spider.

       It was a tactical mistake. Jumper threw a line around the end of the pole and jerked it to him. Dor was almost hauled into the depression before he let go. He staggered back.

       The spider seized his opening. He jumped across the depression, landing beside Dor. He threw another loop, catching Dor's sword arm, drawing him off balance. But Dor reacted with the fighting reflexes of his powerful body. He jerked the arm back. Such was the strength and weight of his body that it was the gross arachnid who was now hauled off balance. No single leg of the spider's could match Dor's arm; the muscle tissue simply wasn't there. Jumper came forward, not falling because it was just about impossible for a thing with eight legs to fall, but lurching toward Dor. Dor reversed his motion and slashed viciously with his sword.

       The spider shot straight up, barely avoiding the cut. There was no overhanging branch here, so what went up had to come down. Dor stood below with his point straight up, waiting for the spider to skewer himself on it.

       But he had reckoned without the creature's monstrous agility. Jumper landed on the sword-feet first, all eight of them closing about the tip of the blade, supporting him. His weight carried blade and arm down, and Dor collapsed under it. Immediately the spider's sickening strands of web were all about him, entangling him.

       Dor closed his left fist and rammed it into the spider's soft abdomen. The flesh gave way disgustingly, and strands of silk stretched and snapped. Then Dor put both hands on the sword and hauled it up, half-carrying the spider with it. He kicked with one foot to dislodge his antagonist-but this was another error. The spider looped that leg, drew his line in tight, and Dor had two hands and the leg tied together. Those spindly spider legs were savagely swift!

       Dor fell on his back, fighting to free his limbs. But now the spider was all over him, throwing strand after strand around him, drawing them in tight. Dor heaved mightily, snapping more strands, but his strength was giving out. Soon he was hopelessly bound.

       The monster brought his head close to Dor's head. The horrible hairy green chelicerae parted, ready to crush Dor's helpless face into a pulp. The sharp fangs were extended. The two largest green front eyes glared.

       Dor screamed and kicked his bound feet and flung his head about as uselessly as Millie ever had. How had he come to this? Yet even in this moment of annihilation he retained some human perspective. "Why did you ever pretend to be my friend?" he demanded.

       Jumper folded his jaws closed. "That is an excellent question," he chittered. Then he backed off, adjusted his lines, and dragged Dor over the ground toward a large tree. The antenna at the tree's top rotated to cover him, but could do nothing. The spider jumped to a stout branch, fastened a line, then hauled Dor laboriously into the air to dangle helplessly. Then he descended his own dragline to land beside Dor.

       "The answer is, I did not pretend to be your friend," Jumper chittered. "I made a truce with you and treated you fairly, believing that you would honor that truce in the same fashion I did. Then, suddenly, without warning, you attacked me with your sword, and I had to defend myself. You were the one who pretended."

       "I did not!" Dor cried, struggling vainly against his bonds. "You sneaked up on me!"

       "I suppose it could be interpreted that way. But you attacked me, not I you."

       "You jumped right at me, snagging my sword. That was an attack!"

       "That was after you took your blade to me, and prodded me with the stick. Then I recognized your hostile nature, and took appropriate action." But the spider paused, considering. "I felt no hostility to you until that moment. Why should a stick provoke me when a sword did not?"

       "Don't you understand your own alien nature?" Dor demanded.

       "Something incomplete here. When did you become antagonistic toward me?"

       "When you tried to sneak up on me and kill me, of course!"

       "And when did that happen?"

       "What fool game are you trying to play?" Dor demanded. "You know I was looking at the wooden knob."

       "The wooden knob," the spider repeated thoughtfully. "My own realization of antipathy came when I landed on that knob. Can that be coincidence?"

       "Who cares!" Dor cried. "You sneaked up on me first!"

       "Consider: you poked that knob; you touched it, indirectly, and became hostile to me. Then I touched it and became hostile to you. That knob must have something to do with it."

       The logic began to penetrate Dor's emotion. He had poked the knob, just before…what happened. He knew the spider was his enemy, yet-

       "Magic can do many things," Jumper continued. "Can it change friendship to enmity?"

       "It can make strangers love each other," Dor said unwillingly. "I suppose it could do the opposite."

       "The antenna-plants were tracking our approach. Had we been hostile to this forest, how would it have defended itself?"

       "It would have thrown some spell, of course, since the trees aren't active the way tanglers are. Make us fall asleep, or get itchy, or something."

       "Or get angry with each other?"

       "Yes, that too. Anything is possible-" Dor paused. "Our fight-a spell?"

       "The antennae observed us. Had we passed through without stopping, perhaps nothing would have happened. But we remained too long, poking into things-so the forest struck back. Setting us against each other. Reversing our feeling for each other. Would that not be an excellent defense?"

       "Reversing emotion! That would mean the stronger the friendship, the worse the-"

       "I am extremely angry with you," Jumper chittered.

       "I am absolutely furious with you."

       "Are we both as angry as it is possible to be? That would indicate a very strong friendship."

       "Yes!" Dor cried, and it was as if a band about his heart had burst. "This spell-it could set whole armies against each other!" he exclaimed, seeing it. "The moment anyone jogs the knob, he activates it." The logic had now penetrated to his core; he had no further doubt they were the victims of a malignant spell. His hate for his friend was dissipating. It simply was not reasonable in the circumstance. Jumper's approach had not really been sneaky; the spider normally moved silently, and Dor's attention had been taken by the knob. Dor had assumed Jumper was his enemy for no good reason-except enchantment.

       "May I release you now?" Jumper chittered.

       "Yes. I realize what happened. It was a temporary spell, losing power with time."

       "Reason abates much magic," Jumper agreed. He swung across, and with a few deft motions freed Dor. "I regret this happened," he chittered.

       "So do I! Oh, I'm sorry, Jumper! I should have realized-"

       "I was caught too. Emotion overcame reason-almost."

       "But tell me-why didn't you bite my head off? I thought you were about to."

       "The temptation was great. But one does not ordinarily kill a defenseless enemy unless one is hungry. One stores the meat alive until needed. And I do not like the taste of your type of flesh. So it was counter to logic to slay you, and that bothered me. I prefer to be governed by logic. I try to understand the complete situation, to achieve perspective at all times. To get all eight eyes on it, as we arachnids chitter."

       "I didn't try to think things out," Dor admitted ruefully. "I just fought!"

       "You are younger than I."

       Therefore immature, and thoughtless, prone to errors of ignorance and emotion. How well he knew it! The spider's maturity had saved them again, providing the time and thought they needed to fight free of the spell. "Just how old are you, Jumper?"

       "I hatched half a year ago, in the spring."

       "Half a year!" Dor exclaimed. "I hatched-I mean was born-twelve years ago. I'm way older than you!"

       "I suspect our cycles differ," Jumper said diplomatically. "In another quarter year I shall be dead of old age."

       Dor was shocked. "But I've hardly had time to know you!"

       "It is not how long one lives, but how well one lives that is important," Jumper chittered. "This quest with you has been generally excellent living."

       "Except for the goblins and the Mundanes," Dor said, remembering.

       "You ventured in quest of the healing elixir at great peril to yourself to enable me to survive the Mundanes' torture," Jumper reminded him. "Perhaps the episode was worthwhile, showing me the extent of your loyalty. Come, let us finish our mission without regret."

       Would he have been so nice about having one of his own legs pulled off, to verify the friendship of the spider? Dor doubted it. It seemed he still had some maturing to do.

       They dropped to the ground and set their markers to skirt widely around the enchanting wooden knob. This forest defense seemed unnecessarily devious, but of course an obvious trap could more readily be circumvented.

       Dor found himself sobered, and not merely by the hostile magic. Jumper-dead in three months!

       They arrived at Castle Roogna without further significant event, in the afternoon. The King was highly gratified by their tidings. "So you persuaded the Zombie Master! How did you do that?"