Free Dragon on a Pedestal by Piers Anthony

catch up to the yak, but he had forgotten her and was already out of sight. Once she thought she saw him, but it was only the chocolate moose, who was going in the opposite direction and didn’t wait for her.
    It was darkening now, and the pleasant trees were turning ugly. She ran and tripped over a root that lifted to snag her toe. She skinned her knees in the fall and got dirt in her face.
    This was too much. Ivy sat in the path and wailed. She was, after all, only three years old.
    Something heard the noise and came toward her, half slithering, half whomping through the underbrush. It had six legs and green, metallic scales, and it steamed, and it was hungry.
    Ivy heard it and looked up in time to stare into the horrendous little countenance of the rejuvenated Gap Dragon.

Chapter 4. Zora Zombie
    I rene was fuming. She had, as it turned out, wasted precious time traveling to the Good Magician’s castle, and now she was losing more. Of course, she had helped the Gorgon, and that was worthwhile—but what was happening to Ivy meanwhile? The Xanth jungle was no place for a three-year-old child alone!
    She glanced at the little plant perched in an upper pocket. It was a miniature variety of ivy, enchanted to relate to the child Ivy. As long as the plant was healthy, so was Ivy. If the plant wilted, that meant trouble or illness. If the plant died—
    Irene shook her head. The plant was healthy; no point in worrying about what might be. She knew her daughter was all right and had known it all along. It was the future that worried her. All she had to do was
find
her daughter—soon.
    The roc deposited her at Castle Zombie. “Wait here,” she told it. “There’ll be a return delivery.” She hurried inside.
    Millie the Ghost came to meet her. “Listen carefully,” Irene said without preamble. “Good Magician Humfrey has been turned into a baby, and his son Hugo is lost. The Gorgon will look for Hugo, but needs a baby-sitter for Humfrey. A roc is waiting outside to take Lacuna there. Is that all right with you? Good. Go tell Lacuna. Where’s Dor?”
    “Out looking for Ivy,” Millie said, taken aback by the rush of information. “They all are—but there’s so much jungle to search—”
    “I’ll find him myself,” Irene said impatiently. “You see to Lacuna.” She hurried back outside, leaving the older woman to her confusion. Actually, she was sure Lacuna would be thrilled to get roc-transport; that was a most unusual mode of travel for ordinary people.
    “Where’s Dor?” Irene demanded of the nearest zombie.
    The mottled face worked, trying to assemble an answer. A hand came up to scratch the nose, and the nose fell off. “Wwhhooo?” the creature whistled.
    “My husband!” Irene snapped. “Dor. The
King
, you imbecile! Where’s the King?”
    Decayed comprehension came. “Kkemmm,” the thing said, and pointed a skeletal extremity to the north.
    “Thaankss,” Irene said, mimicking it, though what scant humor the action might have had was wasted on a thing whose brain was glop. She rushed north.
    Soon she encountered a centaur. It was Chem. “Hello, Irene!” the filly called.
    Chem was a few years younger than Irene, but centaurs aged more slowly than human beings did, so she was now in the flush of nubility. In human terms, Chem would have been about the age of the twins, Hiatus and Lacuna, or a little older. She was certainly an attractive specimen of her kind now, with fair hair falling from her head to touch the equine shoulder, and a full and bare bosom of the centaur kind. Of course, Chem’s appearance was nothing new to Irene; she had ridden the centaur from Castle Roogna to Castle Zombie, a journey of several hours by hoof and longer by foot. But she gained a clearer picture of Chem, seeing her standing alone in the forest. This filly was currently well worth the attention of a male of her species, but as far as Irene knew, there was no immediate prospect. There were not many of the