Free Dragon on a Pedestal by Piers Anthony Page B

“It shouldn’t be long. She can’t have wandered far.”
    “True,” Dor agreed wanly. Suddenly Irene realized what his real motive was—he was half afraid Ivy was in deeper trouble than mere separation from her family and he wanted to locate some magic means to confirm or deny this without alarming Irene herself. He had an ivy plant of his own,so knew the child was healthy—but this disappearance was already more serious than it had first seemed. With the forget-whorls moving through the area, taking out people randomly …
    Dor was letting her keep her hope as long as possible. She would let him keep his. Irene kissed him in silent thanks for what he hadn’t said, then remounted Chem. “You,” she said, pointing to the nearest zombie. “Come with us.” Anything to satisfy her husband, who was trying so hard to do what he thought was right. The zombie would be a nuisance, but maybe she would find Ivy soon, so it wouldn’t matter.
    The centaur started walking. Irene waved good-bye, then turned her face forward, knowing Dor would be watching her as long as she remained in sight. The designated zombie shuffled along behind.
    “Hey, you plants!” Grundy called. “Any of you see a little girl pass by this afternoon?” This was for the others’ notice; actual plant language was largely inaudible and wholly incomprehensible to the human ear. The golem would repeat the message in the dialects of any plants and animals he saw.
    After a pause, Grundy shook his head. “None here,” he reported. “But I guess we already knew that. We’d better circle around the castle until we pick up Ivy’s trail. It’s got to be here somewhere.”
    “Let’s see a map of the area,” Irene told Chem. “We can pick the best route for circling the castle.”
    Chem projected her map. It formed in the air before her, a three-dimensional representation of Castle Zombie and the region around it. But portions were fuzzy. “What’s wrong with your picture, horserump?” Grundy asked, his normal lack of diplomacy evident.
    “I’m not familiar with this region,” the centaur explained, unruffled. Centaur stallions, like human males, could have bad tempers, but the fillies were femininely stable. “I didn’t have time to explore much of it before the Dragon came. I have to see it before I can map it.”
    “Then what good is your talent, marebrain?” Grundy demanded. Irene felt a tinge of ire at his insolence but kept her mouth shut; Chem could take care of herself.
    “I never get lost, ragbrain,” Chem said evenly. Actually, the golem’s original head had been wood, not rag, but it was a fair insult. Now, of course, Grundy was alive, with a living brain. “Once I’ve been to a place, I’ve got it on my map. So I can always find my way back.”
    The golem, realizing that insult would be met with insult, shut up and concentrated on his business. They circled Castle Zombie clockwise; three-quarters of the way around, Grundy picked up the trail. They had actually spiraled out somewhat and were now a fair distance from the castle.
    “This armor-dillo plant saw her pass!” Grundy exclaimed. He pointed east. “That way.”
    Irene controlled her thrill of joy. They hadn’t completed the rescue yet.
    “Odd direction to go,” Chem remarked. “Didn’t you say you saw the zombie carry her west, not east?”
    “That’s right!” Irene agreed, her gratification at finding the trail tempered by this surprise. “She couldn’t have wandered all the way around the castle!”
    “Ask the ‘dillo how Ivy arrived,” Chem told Grundy.
    The golem queried the plant, using a series of rustlings and creakings and pickle-crunching sounds. “She just toddled up from the direction of the castle,” he reported. “She didn’t look as if she’d walked far.”
    Irene hesitated, athwart a dilemma. She wanted to recover her lost child as soon as possible, but knew that in the Xanth wilderness it was best to take no mystery on faith. If