By this time Dor had fairly well grasped the purpose for which he had been brought here. "I, uh, I sympathize with your predicament. But I can't really help you. I'm too young; I'm not a man yet."
She drew back and twisted her head to look at him, her large eyes larger yet "You certainly look like a man."
"I got big quite suddenly. I'm really twelve years old. That's not much for my kind. I just want to help my friend Millie."
She considered momentarily. "Twelve years old. That just might be statutory seduction. Very well. I'll accept the ring you offered, in lieu of-of the other. Maybe it can wish me a fertile egg."
"I can! I can!" the ring exclaimed eagerly.
"I didn't really want to do this anyhow," Helen said as she screwed the ring onto her largest claw. She had merely held it, up till now. "Momma insisted, that's all. You can have the girl, though at your age I really don't know what you'll do with her. She's four caves to the right."
"Uh, thank you," Dor said. "Won't your mother object-I mean, if I just walk out?"
"Not if I don't squawk. And I won't squawk if the ring works okay."
"But that ring takes time to operate, even if-"
"Oh, go ahead. Can't you see I'm trying to give you a break?"
Dor went ahead. He wasn't sure how long she would have patience with the ring, or whether she would simply change her mind. Of course it was always possible that the ring really could produce. How nice for the harpies if it could give them a male chick! But meanwhile, he didn't want to waste time.
The old harridan eyed him suspiciously, but did not challenge him. He counted four subcaves to the right and went in. Sure enough, there was Millie, disheveled but intact. "Oh, Dor!" she cried. "I knew you'd rescue me!"
"I haven't rescued you yet," he warned her. "I traded my wishing ring to get to you."
"Then we'd better get out of here in a hurry! That ring couldn't wish itself out of a dream."
Why would it want to? he wondered. He checked the cave exit. Like the other, it opened onto a formidable drop. "I don't think we can just walk out. I don't think there are any exits that don't require flying. That's why the harpies aren't worried about us escaping."
"They-they were threatening to cook me for supper. I'd rather jump, than-"
"That was just to get me to cooperate," Dor said. Yet he had the grisly fear that it had been no bluff. Why should they have told her the threat, when he wasn't there to hear? The harpies were not nice creatures.
"To cooperate? What did they want from you?"
"A service I couldn't perform." Though this body of his had masculine capabilities and probably could-no, that wasn't the point.
Millie looked at his face. "It's clean!" she exclaimed.
"I, uh, had it washed."
Her eyes narrowed. "About that service-are you sure-?"
Damn that female intuition! Dor kneeled by the exit hole, feeling around it with his fingers. "Maybe there are handholds or something."
There weren't. The face of the cliff was as hard and smooth as glass, and the drop looked horrendous. He saw harpies flitting from other caves, coming and going, always flying. No hope there!
Even if there had been handholds, they would have required both of his hands. He would have been unable to hold on to Millie with one, and she would have screamed and kicked her feet and flung her hair about and fallen to her death the moment she attempted to make such a climb by herself. She was a delectable female, but just not much use at man-business.
Not that he could make any such claim himself, after that session with Heavenly Helen Harpy.
Helen had said that the harpies had once shared quarters with the goblins. The goblins did not fly, and he doubted they could climb well enough to handle this sheer cliff. If they had shared these caves, there had to be footpaths to them, somewhere. Maybe these had been cemented over, after the goblins had been driven out. "Walls, do any of you conceal goblin tunnels?" he asked.
"Not me!" the walls chorused.
"You mean the goblins never used these caves?" Dor demanded, disappointed. Had Helen lied to him-or had she been referring to other caves, before the harpies moved here?
"Untrue," the walls said. "Goblins originally hollowed out these caves, hollowed and hallowed, before the war started."
"Then how did the goblins get in and out?"
"Through the ceilings, of course."
Dor clapped the heel of his hand to his forehead. Of course! One problem with questioning the inanimate was that the inanimate didn't have much imagination and tended to answer literally. He had really meant to question all the artifacts in and of this chamber, but he had only actually named the walls, so only they had responded. "Ceiling, do you conceal a goblin passage?"
"I do," the ceiling replied. "You could have saved a lot of trouble if you'd asked me first, instead of talking with those stupid walls."
"Why isn't it visible?"
"The harpies sealed it over with mud plaster and droppings. Everyone knows that."
"That's why the stink!" Millie cried. "They use their dung for building."
Dor drew his sword. "Tell me where to strike to free the passage," he said.
"Right here," the ceiling said at one side.
Dor dug his swordpoint in and twisted. A chunk of brown plaster dropped to the floor. He dug harder and gouged more out. Soon the passage opened. A draft of foul air washed down from the hole.
"What's that fresh smell?" a harpy voice screeched from the cavern hall.
"Fresh smell!" Dor exclaimed, almost choking on the stench. He and Millie had become more or less acclimatized to the odor pervading the caves, but now that the air was moving, his nostrils could not so readily filter it out. Yet perhaps this breeze was offensive to the harpies.
The old hen appeared in the entrance. "They're trying to sneak out the old goblin hole!" she screeched. "Stop them!"
Dor strode across to block her advance, sword held before him. Afoot, unable to spread her wings, the harpy was at a disadvantage, and had to retreat. "Climb up into the hole!" Dor cried to Millie. "Use the goblin passage to escape!"
Millie stared up into the blackness of the hole. "I'm afraid!" she cried. "There might be nickelpedes!"
That struck him. Nickelpedes were vicious insects five times as ferocious as centipedes, with pincers made of nickel. They attacked anything that moved in darkness.
Now more harpies were pressing close. They respected Dor's bared blade, but did not retreat farther than they had to. He could not swing freely in the passage, and didn't really want to shed their blood; after all, they were half-human, and it wasn't nice to kill females.
What was he going to do? With the harpies in front, and Millie balking, and an open cliff outside-in this situation he couldn't fool anyone by making the walls talk. He was stuck. He might hold off the dirty birds indefinitely, but he couldn't escape. Actually, if they started flying in from the clifside, he would have trouble, because he couldn't very well cover both entrances, and Millie would not be much help. And in due course he and Millie would get tired, and hungry and thirsty, and would have to sleep. They would be captive again.