Anthony, Piers - Xanth 30 - Stork Naked by Anthony Piers

Author:Anthony, Piers
Language: eng
Format: epub

10

Peeved Dreams

The peeve flew to its sector, determined to find the children if they were there. It wasn't that it really liked the children; it didn't like anyone or anything. But they got along well enough, with their shared propensity for mischief. Mainly it was that Grundy and Rapunzel Golem provided the peeve a good home, which was a considerable improvement on its residence in Hell, as it had told Surprise, and it didn't want that messed up. So it would do its best.

And the baby Prize liked the peeve. That infused the peeve with a weirdly unfamiliar and sloppy emotion that for want of a better explanation suggested that the peeve liked the baby back. Nothing like that had

ever happened before. No emotion other than irritation had ever motivated the peeve before. Oh, there was the guarded mutual respect it shared with a few, such as the Gorgon, Hannah Barbarian, and Grundy Golem, but this wasn't the same. It would take some getting used to, but there it was. If Surprise lost the baby, there would be nothing. Now that the peeve had discovered that tiny bit of like, it didn't want to lose it.

The peeve flew down to the edge of its search territory. It expected to do an efficient job, crisscrossing the land in a lattice pattern so that nothing would escape its notice. If the children were here, the peeve would find them.

Almost immediately it spied a doll-like girl walking nervously along a forest trail. She wasn't one of the children, but maybe she had seen them. "Hey, dollface, have you seen three children around here?"

The girl paused in place, standing in her own tracks, which was what folk normally did. She was extremely well formed, as dolls could be, with a large bosom, small waist, and long legs. "A talking bird!"

"A talking doll!" the peeve mimicked. "Are you too stupid to answer my question?"

For some reason the girl frowned. "You've got a foul beak on you, bird."

"Thank you. You've got an overstuffed shirt on you, and not enough stuffing in your skull. Now are you going to answer, or is that beyond your meager powers of focus?"

She frowned worse. "Who are you, bird?"

"I am a pet peeve. Couldn't you tell?"

She burst out laughing. "A pun! What a stinker."

"Thank you." The peeve always thanked folk for true observations, mainly because that tended to annoy them.

"I am Barbie Que," the girl said. "My talent is to cook raw food instantly by touch. It's another pun."

"Ha," the peeve said sourly. "Ha. Ha. There: I have laughed. It was an effort. Now can you compress the air in your head enough to answer my question?"

"No, I haven't seen any children. Only an awful ram or wolf with ten tongues who I fear wants to devour me."

The peeve's sympathy was limited. But she had finally answered its question, so it dallied a moment and a half more. "Come on, sister: is it a ram or a wolf? The one won't eat you; the other will.

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