Faun and Games Read Free

were empty-headed creatures, incapable of feeling or
    commitment, but those folk were confusing types.   The creatures of the
    Faun and Nymph Retreat had no memory beyond a day, so every new day was
    a new adventure.   But that was the magic of the retreat; any who left
    there started to turn real, which meant they aged and had memories. Some
    preserved their youth by finding useful jobs.   Jewel the Nymph had taken
    on the chore of spreading gems throughout Xanth, so that others would
    have the delightful challenge of finding them, and later she had married
    a mortal man and become a grandmother.   Many others had adopted magical
    trees, just as Forrest had.   It was a kind of symbiosis, which was a
    fancy word meaning that the two got along great together and helped each
    other survive. The trees kept the fauns or nymphs young, because trees
    lived a long time and their spirits shared that longevity.   The fauns or
    nymphs protected their trees, bringing them water in times of drought
    and harassing woodsmen who wanted to chop the trees down.   Nymphs had
    very effective ways to distract woodsmen, or to persuade them to spare
    their trees. Sometimes a nymph would even marry a woodsman, if that was
    what it took. But her first loyalty was always to her tree.   Fauns had
    other ways, such as setting booby traps or informing large dragons where
    a nice man sized meal could be had near a certain tree.   One way or
    another, they protected their timber, as well as enhancing the natural
    magic of the trees.
     
    But the sudden loss of Branch left the clog tree in trouble.   Such
    relationships were not lightly made or broken.   A faun who lost his tree
    died, and a tree who lost its faun turned mundane, an even sadder state.
    So he had to find a replacement.
     
    "If only I had the faintest notion how," he said in anguish.
     
    There was a swirl of smoke.   It formed into a large pot labeled SEX.   "I
    should have thought a faun already knew how," it said. "But I suppose I
    could show you, if-"
     
    He should have known that the demoness hadn't really gone.   She was
    still hoping he might do something entertaining.   "How to find a
    suitable spirit for the clog tree," he clarified.   "Naturally you have
    no better notion than I do."
     
    "Naturally not," the pot agreed, its label changing to KETTLE as it
    turned black.   "I would never think of going to ask the Good Magician
    Humfrey.   The last time I suggested that, I had to guide a stupid
    gargoyle there, and he wound up saving Xanth from whatever.   Actually
    that adventure did have its points; it certainly was interesting."
     
    The kettle formed back into the luscious lady shape.   "So there's no
    point in suggesting it, especially since the Good Magician charges a
    year's Service for an Answer.   So you might as well abandon all hope and
    just let the stupid tree die."
     
    "I'll go see the Good Magician!" Forrest exclaimed.   Then he realized
    that she had tricked him into reacting, just as he had tried to trick
    her.   He had said it, and the clog tree had heard; its leaves were
    becoming almost wholesome.   Now he had to do it.   But a year's Service?
    "I can't leave my own tree that long," he protested belatedly. "And I
    don't even know the way there."
     
    "You need a guide," Mentia said.   "I need to go bother my better half
    some more, but I can find a friend to show you the way to Humfrey's
    castle."
     
    "I don't want any friend of yours!"
     
    "Excellent.   You will find her just as lusciously annoying as I am. I'll
    be right back with her." The demoness popped off.
     
    Again, he had said the wrong thing.   But he was now committed to going.
    How would the trees fare during his absence?   He didn't want them to
    suffer, but there didn't seem to be much of an alternative.
     
    But there might be a way to get some help on that.   There was a cave
    nearby, where a nice cousin of Com Pewter dwelt.   She was ComPassion,
    and she loved