Page 18 of Faun & Games


  “But he doesn't want to marry a failed actress.”

  “Speak for yourself, Director,” Justin Case said, standing. “She's a beautiful woman, in or out of the play.”

  “But she wouldn't want to--”

  “I'd do anything to save my role,” Miss Take said.

  The Director nodded. “Very well, then, but be quick about it. We'll have to stage another partial rehearsal, to be sure it's straight.”

  “But how can you marry and leave me alone?” Justin Time asked. “After I have so loyally gotten you where you needed to be, at just the right time?”

  “That's right,” Justin Case agreed. “You deserve a lovely actress too.”

  Forrest thought quickly. “Is Raven's beautiful sister Robin a character in the play?”

  “Yes, of course,” the Director said. “She has to be saved from the dread demon.”

  “Then she can marry Justin Time.”

  “But Miss Inform wouldn't-”

  “Speak for yourself, Director,” a lovely young woman said, walking on stage. “Let me get a look at this man.”

  Justin Time stood. He was a handsome man, appearing almost ageless.

  Miss Inform nodded. “He'll do.”

  “But if you are only fifteen-” Justin Time began doubtfully.

  “That is my role age,” she replied with a smile. “I am actually slightly older, and a good deal more experienced.”

  “Good enough!” Justin Time agreed.

  “Then let's get this done with,” the Director said. “The four of you stand before me.”

  The two men and two women lined up before him. “By the allthority vested in me as Almighty Director, I now pronounce you men and wives.

  Now get on with the play.”

  The men quickly kissed their brides and returned to their places in the audience. “Pick it up from Raven's ‘Yes' “ the Director directed.

  “Give her the cue, Son.”

  On the stage, Son stared at Raven in wild surmise. “You mean?”

  “Yes!” she replied, striking her dramatic pose. “Ruben and Rowena are my parents. He is my long-lost brother I never knew I had.”

  “But how is this possible? Dolph is thirty years older than you are.”

  “That's right. There must be some mistake. Let's look at that record again.”

  Son peered at the stork records. “Oh, now I see that it is mismarked.

  There's a note: ERROR: PROPER PARENTS ARE DOR & IRENE OF CASTLE ROOGNA.”

  “Oh, that's a relief,” Son said. “I liked King Dolph. I'll be glad to bring the good news to him.” He paused. “But then why did your father say that the baby was his?”

  “Obviously he lied, because he wanted a son instead of only daughters.”

  “That makes sense,” Son agreed.

  “But what about my sister, whom the demon will now claim as his slave?”

  Son looked grim. “I shall have to fight him, so as to keep your family happy.”

  “But you can't fight a demon!” Raven protested.

  “You forget my talent of manipulating men's minds. He's male, so maybe I can change his mind.” He struck another pose. “Demon, come here!”

  There was a gout of fire and a puff of smoke. When it cleared, there was a horrendous figure of a demon. “Who calls Demon Ize?”

  “I do,” Son said. “I shall not let you make a slave of this woman's lovely little sister.”

  “Lovely sister?” the demon asked. “I thought it was a vastly older brother.”

  “No, that was a clerical error. Raven has no brother, only a sister.”

  “Hm. What does she look like?”

  “Here is her picture,” Raven said, holding it forth.

  D. Ize peered at it. “That could be airbrushed. She's probably really ugly.

  “She is not! Here, I'll conjure her in person, and prove it.”

  “You can conjure?” Son asked, surprised.

  “It's one of the pieces of talents I have saved in my bottle,” Raven explained. She brought out her bottle and popped the cork. “Sister Robin, come here,” she intoned.

  A bird with a red breast flew in. It landed on the floor and became a beautiful young woman. “Yes, sister dear?”

  “Demon Ize here thinks you're ugly,” Raven said.

  “Really?” Robin turned to the demon, inhaling.

  “Not really,” Ize said quickly. “You are truly lovely.”

  “And he plans to make you his slave,” Raven continued sourly.

  “Really!” Robin said, frowning. “Does that mean I won't be able to look for a nice man to marry who will have the talent of changing form and flying with me?”

  “I can do that!” Ize cried, changing into a green jay. “Suddenly I don't want to enslave you, to my surprise; I want to marry you, you lovely creature,” the bird said.

  “Gee-that's nice.” Robin changed into her bird form, and the two of them flew away.

  “Well, I guess that solved your problem,” Son said. “And King Dolph's problem. Let's go back to Castle Roogna so I can gain my recognition as a Magician.”

  “You changed Ize's mind?” Raven asked, impressed.

  “Yes. It really wasn't difficult, when he saw how pretty she is. I hope you don't mind having a demon in the family.”

  “Well, it does seem better than the alternative. And it does seem like a Magician caliber talent. Let's go to Castle Roogna.”

  They linked arms and walked off stage.

  “That works for me,” the Director said. “Be here tomorrow for the official production.” The members of the cast scattered, and the two actresses went to join their husbands. Meanwhile the Director's roving eye fell on Forrest. “What are you waiting for, Faun? Go on in to see the Good Magician.” And a door opened beyond the stage.

  Forrest and Imbri walked up to the door and through it. “You figured it out,” Imbri said admiringly. “You're a pretty smart faun.”

  “No, I just caught on to how these Challenges work. In real life I probably would have flubbed it.” But he was pleased with her appreciation.

  An old, dull woman approached them in the next chamber. Assorted socks were tucked in her apron pockets. “So you repaired my play!” she said.

  “Thank you. I am Sofia Socksorter, Designated Wife of the moment.”

  “Uh, yes,” Forrest said. “We came to-”

  “Of course. Himself will see you now. Just follow the trail of socks.”

  They followed the trail of socks. “He always had trouble keeping track of his socks,” Imbri murmured. “That's why he married Mundania's best sock sorter. But even she can't keep up on a bad day.”

  “So I see-and smell.”

  The trail led up to the Good Magician's cramped study. There was Humfrey, as before, hunched over his monstrous tome. “Uh-” Forrest began.

  The gnome-like figure looked up. “Yes, yes, of course. Your Service will be to serve as adviser to the princesses Dawn & Eve, to enable them to save the Human territory from marginalization. The magic path will take you directly to Castle Roogna.”

  “But I haven't even asked my-”

  “You came to ask the way to Castle Roogna,” Humfrey said irritably. “I have Answered.” He returned to his tome.

  They had been summarily dismissed. Again. But it was true: they had only sought the way. And for that they had to pay the equivalent of a year's Service. It didn't seem quite fair.

  They went back down the dingy winding stairs. “How can Humfrey be here, the same as ever?” Forrest asked Imbri.

  “He sips youth elixir to maintain his age at about one hundred,” she reminded him.

  “No, I mean shouldn't he be banned from Ptero, since he's a real person in Xanth?”

  “Only a year, I think. The rest of his life is unobstructed, as with Ogle Ogre.”

  “Oh, yes, I suppose so. It's strange, seeing someone I met there, here.”

  “Yes. But it will be stranger seeing Dawn & Eve.”

  S
ofia gave them lunch, and showed them to the magic path. “Be sure not to stray from it,” she warned. “There are dragons out there.”

  “We will stay on it,” Imbri promised.

  “Himself does appreciate what you are doing, even if he doesn't show it,” Sofia said. “If not for you, those two foolish princesses would be off looking for husbands.”

  “Isn't that normal, for human beings?” Forrest asked.

  “Not when their territory is being marginalized. Save that, and then they can do whatever else they want.”

  “But I don't even know what the term means.”

  “I'm sure you will find out. Now off with you; the matter is urgent.”

  She shooed them out the door and toward the magic path. “This realm is as strange as Xanth,” Imbri murmured.

  “It's stranger,” Sofia called after them.

  She was probably right.

  The path brought them safely and conveniently through the forest. But it was a fair distance, just as it was in Xanth, so they stopped at a rest station as night came. They knew that night had nothing to do with the progress of the sun across the sky, because Ptero simply used the light of Xanth. Sometimes when Princess Ida put her head in shadow, the scene dimmed.

  Forrest wasn't sure whether he should be tired, but when darkness closed, he found he wanted to sleep, so that was all right. Sleeping was no more unnatural here than eating; it seemed they could take or leave either, depending on the local circumstance.

  “What does it feel like, being solid?” he asked Imbri as she settled down beside him. “I mean, I'm used to it, but you aren't.”

  “Especially not in girl form,” she agreed. “But I find I am getting used to it, and at times I rather like it. I am even beginning to feel solid girl emotions.”

  “Oh? What are they?”

  “Appreciation for the beauty of the forest, and the niceness of folk like Cathryn. Even things like eating and sleeping are interesting experiences.”

  “I suppose so. This world of Ptero seems all right, as I become accustomed to it.”

  “Yes.” Then sleepiness overtook him, and he faded out.

  He woke later, feeling a motion near him. He discovered that it was Imbri, putting a conventional blanket on him. “You looked cool,” she explained.

  He had indeed become cool, but the blanket fixed it. “Thank you.”

  “You are welcome, Forrest.”

  He started to drift back to sleep. But then he realized that she had no blanket of her own. “Aren't you cool too?” he asked.

  “It does not matter.”

  “Yes it does. Isn't there another blanket?”

  “I found only one. Use it, and sleep in peace.”

  “But you must be sleepy too. You should have it.”

  “But then you would be cold.”

  Forrest pondered briefly. “We could share it.”

  She hesitated.

  He had been afraid of that. “If you are concerned that I view you as a nymph-”

  “No, it is clear that you do not. You are a far more responsible faun than I expected.”

  “Caring for my tree has made me that way. Please do join me, Imbri; we are both warm, and the blanket is large enough for us both.”

  “Thank you.” She dissolved her clothing and joined him.

  After an astonished instant, Forrest realized that she did not care to sleep under a blanket in her clothing; it wouldn't feel comfortable. So she had eliminated her dress. It made sense. But in that instant she had indeed looked exactly like a nymph. That had an effect on him that he hoped he could conceal from her. He did not want her to think that he had tried to deceive her.

  She settled down beside him. Her body touched his at shoulder and hip.

  She was soft and smooth and warm. Just like a nymph. But she was not a nymph, he reminded himself forcefully. She was a mare in girl form, and an intelligent and thoughtful creature, not interested in nymphly pursuits. So he faced away from her and did his best to ignore her presence.

  It took some time, but at last he did manage to sleep again. But later he drifted awake to discover her nestled against his side, her nymphly attributes very soft. He didn't dare move. But he wasn't quite sure he dared sleep again, lest he dream of chasing and catching a nymph, and do something that would appall her. He wished he had anticipated this situation, and avoided it. Yet at the same time he also liked this unexpected contact with her. He knew that his awareness of her had changed in a way that could not be undone. She was still Imbri, his helpful companion. But now she was also somewhat more than that-in a way he must not allow to show.

  Forrest lay awake, struggling to adjust his thoughts, but they would not fit back into their former simplicity. He knew Imbri as a person, not a nymph-but now he wished she could be both. That was of course impossible.

  So it was a long night. But in the morning he was not tired or logy, apparently in this state he did not really need sleep. It was just a convenience during darkness.

  As the light brightened, Imbri stiffed and woke. She stretched, rubbing against him, then sat up. “Oh-of course,” she said, glancing at him.

  “We shared warmth. For a moment I wondered what I was doing under the blanket with you.”

  “Just sleeping,” he said.

  “Yes. Thank you.” She stood, glanced down at her bare body, and concentrated. Her dress formed from her substance, covering her. “I feel like a Sorceress when I do this,” she confessed. “But it's really not magic, just reshaping of my soul material.”

  “Yes.” But how different it was to see that nude body, when he knew she was not a mindless nymph. That awareness should have caused him not to care how she looked, but instead it made him care even more. Last night he had wished she could be both nymph and friend, the two aspects separate, taking turns; now he wished she could be both at once. That was a significant change in concept: the idea of celebrating with a real person, a friend, instead of doing the mindless thing with one, and respecting the other. A human woman could have fit that description, as humans had minds and bodies, but Imbri was not human and she had no body, except in the present rather special situation. So it was pointless to dwell on it.

  “You seem rather thoughtful this morning,” Imbri remarked. “Did you sleep well?”

  What could he say? The truth was not appropriate, but he did not like the notion of deception. So he hesitated.

  “Oh, you didn't!” she said, in brief anguish. “I shouldn't have taken part of your blanket! You lacked room to sleep freely. I must have tossed and turned and poked you in the night.”

  “No, no, that's not it,” he protested. “You were perfect.”

  “I didn't poke you?”

  “Not exactly.” This struggle to find a compromise between accuracy and discretion was awful. It was not an exercise normally required of tree spirits.

  “I don't understand. Did I poke you or didn't I? Did I disturb your sleep or didn't I?”

  Forrest decided that evasion was untenable. He would have to be forthright, and take the consequence. “You did poke me, but it didn't hurt. You did disturb my sleep, but not because of any restlessness on your part. You slept quietly.”

  “But I poked you with my elbow?”

  “No.”

  “My knee?”

  “No.”

  “I don't understand. What did I poke you with?”

  “Your-” Still he hesitated.

  She looked down at her body. “I don't see how-” Then her human mouth turned round. “My maidenly bosom? I poked you with that?”

  Forrest felt himself blushing, a thing he had never done before.

  Possibly no faun had managed it before.

  “Oh, Forrest,” she said, chagrined. “I never thought-I look like a nymph, don't I! And you're a faun.

  “Yes.” Now it was out.

  “And you had to hold yourself back from being a faun. All night.”

  “Yes.”

  “I would never have-if
I had realized-this isn't my natural form-it just never occurred to me that-”

  “It doesn't matter,” he said, wanting to get off this embarrassing subject.

  “Yes it does! I have treated you with discourtesy, and caused you distress. I don't know how I can make up for that. I should have understood-it's so obvious in retrospect-”

  “Please. It's not important. Let's just resume our trek.”

  “I was just so thoughtless! No apology can be enough. But I must do something-” Then a new expression crossed her face. “Forrest, I keep forgetting that I'm solid, here on Ptero. Even when that makes mischief, I forget that it can also abate it. I can be a nymph for you.”

  “No. I don't want that.”

  “No, really. It is no affront to me. We animals don't take such things seriously. I can play the game perfectly, if you will just tell me how.

  “Let's see-nymphs run and scream cutely, and kick their feet, and fling their hair about, and pretend to signal the stork.” As she spoke, she dissolved her dress, ran around in a little circle, kicked up one foot and then the other, and flung her lengthening hair in a full circle.

  Then she tried a cute scream: “Eeeeeek!”

  “No!” Forrest cried. “Stop it!”

  She stopped immediately. “I'm sorry, Forrest. Do I have it wrong?”

  “No. I just don't want you as a nymph.”

  “But you said-in the night-”

  “You're not mindless.”

  “Oh. But I can pretend to be.”

  “I would know better.”

  She nodded sadly. “So I can't be a nymph for you. All I can do is frustrate you.”

  “Yes.”

  “I truly apologize, Forrest. If there is any other way I can make it up to you-”

  “No. We must get on with our mission.”

  “Yes, of course,” she agreed, chastened.

  So they resumed their trek. But in his mind he saw her again and again, acting exactly like a nymph. He had wanted so much to play that game with her! But to have her pretend to be mindless, and believe she was satisfying him, when what he truly wanted was-no, he couldn't accept that. Neither would he ask her to do it while not pretending to be a nymph, because that would imply some actual commitment on her part, and he had no right to desire that. She was just with him on an assignment, to help him find a faun for a tree. When this quest was done, she would be free to go her own way, her service to the Good Magician fulfilled.