Harpy Thyme Read Free Page A

figure it out. If she guessed wrong, she was doomed.
    She looked at the don-key. She just didn't see how its hooves could do anything as intricate as unlocking a lock. The same went for the tur-key's claws. The flun-key was a man, who might have the necessary dexterity, but he had no tools to work on that horrendous Lock Ness. In fact none of these creatures and things seemed like likely prospects.
    Maybe she had not yet fathomed the proper pun. Which of these keys was punnishly designed to open such a lock? Not the don, tur, flun, mon, mur, or-what was that slinky spring that marched down the steps called? The question brought the answer: it was a slin-key. That was no good either.
    Then another theatrical little thought percolated through her petite little perception. Slinky-that was the way the Yena would like to have his/her locks. All combed out and slinky smooth. And the slin-key was metal, showing that metal could be prettily flowing. So maybe it could lend its attributes to the metal lock mess-uh, ness-and make it similarly smooth.
    She wasn't at all sure that her reasoning was right, but since everything else seemed wrong, she gathered up her cornered little courage and made her move. She reached into the alcove and picked up the slin-key. It flexed iridescently in her hands but did not protest. She carried it to the Yena. “I think maybe this slin-key will smooth out your Lock Ness,” she said with an adorable little ad-lib.
    The Yena swelled up hugely. “Oh you do, do you?” he inquired ominously. “Are you sure?” she added.
    “I-I'm not s-sure,” she confessed in a dainty little dither. “But it s-seems the best chance.”
    “Remember, I'll chomp you if it doesn't work.”
    “Y-yes, I realize that,” she said, shaking. “But I must try it.”
    “Well then, what's keeping you?”
    “N-n-nothing,” she said with a successful little stutter. She lifted the slin-key and put it to the Lock Ness.
    The tangled cables twisted like snakes. They slithered around and through each other, forming a pattern like that of the slin-key. Then they flowed down and became slinky smooth, exactly as she had hoped. After that, all the other locks smoothed out similarly, making the fearsome Yena look positively handsome or beautiful, as the case might be. The entire hide glistened like polished water, showing her real little reflection.
    Gloha almost went into a sweet little swoon.
    “Well, you did it,” the Yena said, standing aside. “You may pass on to the next challenge.”
    Gloha stiffened her nice little knees and prepared to walk on. “I'm just glad I got the right key.”
    “Oh, there was no danger of getting the wrong one.”
    “No danger? You mean you were only bluffing about chomping me?”
    “No, I wasn't bluffing about that. But any of the keys would have worked.”
    She was aghast. “Any? But then where's the challenge?”
    “It was a challenge of courage, just as the first was a challenge of nature. You rose to it, so you pass.”
    “Courage? But I was terrified!”
    “That's the nature of courage: to do what you have to do, without yielding to fear. Every sensible person feels fear on occasion, but only cowards let it govern them.”
    “I never realized!”
    “Well, it wouldn't have been as good a challenge if you had,” the Yena said sensibly.
    “I wonder what the third challenge will test,” Gloha said musingly.
    “Understanding, of course.” The Yena curled up and went into a snooze, his tail twitching contentedly across her fur.
    Gloha walked down the passage. She hardly cared to admit it, but her understanding had already been strained to the limit of her broadened little brain. She wasn't at all sure she could evoke any more understanding than she had already. But what was there to do but go on?
    The passage was getting warmer. In fact it was getting hot Gloha would have removed her bright little blouse, but that would have been unseemly. Certainly she couldn't take off her snug