"(ebook) Anthony Piers - Xanth 21 - Faun And Games" - читать интересную книгу автора (Anthony Piers)

Forrest Faun rubbed what remained of his night's sleep out of his eyes
and looked down to the base of his tree. There stood a fetching nymph
with all the usual nymphly features: pretty face, flowing hair, perfect
figure, and no clothing. But there was something amiss.

"What do you mean'?" he asked as he sat up in a fork, still getting his
bearings.

,.What do you think I mean, Faun? Come down and chase me, the way fauns
always do to nymphs."

Then he had it. "You're no nymph."

"Oh, pooh!" she swore, pouting. She dissolved into smoke and reformed
as a luscious clothed demoness. "I am D. Mentia, out seeking routine
entertainment or mischief while my better half waxes disgustingly
motherly. What gave me away?"

"If I tell you, will you go somewhere else?" It was usually possible to
get rid of demons if one made a suitable deal with them.

"Yes, if you want me to." Her bright yellow dress fuzzed, showing the
vague outline of her body beneath, with almost a suggestion of a
forbidden panty line.

So there was a catch. "Why wouldn't I want you to?"

"Because I have dreadful information that will puzzle and alarm you and
perhaps change your whole outlook."

That seemed like adequate reason. Forrest, now fully awake, jumped down
to the ground, landing neatly on his hoofs. "What gave you away was
your manner. You were not acting like a nymph. You were way too
forward and intelligent. Much of a nymph's appeal is in her seeming
reticence and lack of intellect. Now what's this dreadful information?"

"Follow me." Mentia whirled in place, so that her body twisted into a
tight spiral before untwisting facing the opposite direction, and walked
away. Her skirt shrank so as to show her legs as far up as was feasible
without running out of limb. But of course Forrest didn't notice,
because nothing a demoness showed was very real.

She led him across the glade to a tree on the far side. "See."

Forrest stared with dismay at the clog tree. It was wilting, and its
clogs were falling to the ground. That could mean only one thing: it
had lost its spirit.

As it happened, the clog tree's spirit was Forrest's friend: Branch
Faun. They had known each other for almost two centuries, because their