"Gee, I would really like to have a ride in your weird boat."
"Well, I'm sure Para would be glad to give you one."
"That would be wonderful, especially with you beside me."
"Uh, sure." Then he caught Claire's stare. He was evidently being stupid again. It seemed to be his natural state. After not much more than half a moment he figured it out. "Maybe we can make a deal. Do you know of any food near here?"
"There isn't any close by. The perpetual daylight dries up the plants. But if you'd like some carrot, I can provide plenty of that."
He was appalled. "Eat-you? We wouldn't do that!"
She laughed. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather be eaten by. But don't be concerned. I can become a very big carrot. I'll be all right as long as you don't eat all of me. You can cut off twenty-four pieces and make golden soup."
"Golden soup?"
"Twenty-four carrots," she clarified with half a smile.
Umlaut didn't get it. Maybe if she had expended a whole smile he would have. "If you're sure it's all right."
"I'm sure. I have fed our village before, when things got tight. But first I'd like my ride."
Para gave Andrea an excellent ride across the bright sand and over the water. She oooed and ahhhed obligingly and flung her arms around Umlaut when they crested a wave.
Then, back at the beach, she turned herself into a giant carrot. Umlaut carefully carved pieces from it, fearful that there would be a protest, but there was none. It seemed it didn't hurt her. When he had enough, she became a girl again. "Fair exchange, no loss," she said.
"Uh, yes, thank you."
"Would you like to stay with me? You would never go hungry."
"I'm, uh, promised to another girl."
"Lucky girl," Andrea said regretfully and went her way.
So she had not been another manifestation of D. Metria. That was a relief, but he wasn't too relieved, because he wasn't sure where the demoness was or what other mischief she was cooking up.
It was excellent carrot. There was a self-heating pot under one of Para's seats, and they found a spring and dipped it full of water. They cooked twenty-four pieces, and it did make beautifully golden soup. Even the cats and Sesame liked it, though they normally did not eat straight vegetables.
They curled up on the bright beach and slept as well as they could in the perpetual day.
Umlaut dreamed of Surprise. She was standing before him in a bright dress, looking ethereally pretty. "Do you like me this way?"
"I like you any way," he said. "But how can you be here on the beach?"
"I'm not on the beach. I'm in your dream."
"My dream girl!" he agreed blissfully.
She smiled, looking even prettier. "It's another talent. I just can't stay away from you, but I have to find a new way to reach you each time. We can't keep meeting like this."
"I would come to you, if your folks let me."
"I know. I'm working on them. They have this thing about age. Are you sure I shouldn't fetch that aging elixir?"
"I'm not sure, but I think it best to wait. There are things to learn before reaching adult status, so it's best to take proper time."
"Who says so?"
"Sesame Serpent. She's adult, for a serpent, so she knows."
"But she's not human."
"She's my friend, and she wants what's best for me."
Surprise sighed. "I suppose she's right," she grudged. "But I already know I love you, Umlaut. I would do anything for you."
"Surprise, please, just be yourself for me! That's all I want. I don't want to spoil it. I love you too."
"If you weren't so decent, you wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of a smitten girl."
He wanted to laugh but realized she was serious. "I'm sorry. I guess that's the way it is."
"I forgive you."
"Uh, thank you. Uh, Surprise, Sesame told me something. I don't know if I understand it."
"Tell me, maybe I will."
"She said that there's something about me that makes females like me."
"That is so true."
"But if—if it's like magic, I mean, uh, not being because of any merit of mine, maybe you, uh—"
"Umlaut, are you trying to tell me I'm a victim of some sort of spell?"
"Uh, I guess maybe so. So if you, uh—"
She frowned. "Do you want me to leave you?"
"No!" he cried in anguish. "I mean, I don't want to be unfair to you. If the only reason you like me is this, well, I know I'm really not much, and—"
"You're so sweet, Umlaut. I don't care if it is magic, I do like you and don't want to let you go. I don't think you understand just how fervently I mean that."
He was enormously relieved, but naturally his words remained clumsy. "I, uh, thank you."
"Was there anything else?"
"Well, Sesame said that if she were of my species, she couldn't be my friend. I don't understand that."
She nodded. "I do, Umlaut. She means that she'd be romantically attracted to you too. That can be hard on friendship."
"But she's a serpent!"
"Exactly. So she can be your friend, not liking you in that way. I'm not your friend."
That tossed him for another loop. "Uh?"
"I'm your beloved."
Oh. "I guess maybe that's it. Those girls I've met—when they find they can't be my, uh, beloved, they don't want to be my friend."
"Which is exactly as it should be. Oops, I have to go. Kiss me."
He embraced her, expecting her to be illusion, but she felt real. This was a dream, and the things of it seemed real. He kissed her, and it was delightful. "Oh, Surprise, thank you for coming to me! You make it all worthwhile."
"I should hope so." She smiled and faded, leaving him with an empty dream.
He woke and found it day. But of course it was always day here on the beach. He looked more carefully and saw that it was day out over the sea also, so it was real. He got up, had a bit more golden soup, and washed. By then the others were stirring too.
They continued north, then returned to land where Sammy indicated. Here the beach was normal, except that there was yet another young human woman standing there. It was as if they saw him coming. Was Metria back at her tricks, or was this a real person?
"Hello. I'm Umlaut, and these are my friends. We're going to see Princess Nada Naga."
She seemed to hesitate, then spoke. "That's nice. I'm Gail Marie, just out for a walk on the beach."
Her words were innocuous, but there was something more than strange here. Umlaut was almost knocked off his feet, as if he had been riding standing in the boat and it had come to an abrupt stop. But he was standing on the beach, and nothing had changed. In fact things seemed to have returned to normal. What had happened?
"I, uh, did something just occur?" He suspected that he was being dull again, but he had just been literally shaken.
Again she seemed to hesitate before speaking. "I'm sorry." And as she spoke, there was that same weird halting, almost immediately resuming, if that was the correct concept.
"I don't understand."
"It is my talent. The world listens to me."
Again, the lurching-seeming motion, though he could only feel it, not see it. The others felt it too; Para was halfway sprawling, and the cats and serpent were looking anxiously around. "I mean that motion."
"When I speak, the world pauses to listen. Normally it is turning, so you feel it when it stops. That's why I prefer to walk alone. It utterly ruins my social life. But I didn't want to be impolite when you addressed me."
He was beginning to get it. "The world itself stops to listen?"
This time she merely nodded, and the effect did not manifest. It seemed to be true: Everything stopped when she spoke, just as if the world were a boat that abruptly halted, spilling its occupants. He couldn't see it because everything stopped together.
This was awkward. “Then maybe you shouldn't speak anymore. I mean, we shouldn't
require you to.”
She nodded again, sadly. He realized that her life was bound to be lonely, because so few would care to tolerate her dialogue. She looked as though she were attracted to him, but he knew better than to broach any subject like that. That made him feel guilty, though he wasn't sure he had sufficient reason.
They moved on, leaving the woman behind. Umlaut felt somehow guilty. But what else could he do? Her talent made her almost impossible to deal with.
They moved inland. They saw a range of mountains ahead, and it seemed they would have to wend their way through it. There was a dragon circling around the peak of one mountain, then it dived down and disappeared. Its nest must be there. Unfortunately their path seemed to pass right by that mountain.
They climbed a winding path that finally managed to slip between two peaks and descend beyond. But beyond it was another mountain, and they were heading for that. Nada Naga lived on a mountain?
Then they passed a sign: GOBLIN MOUNTAIN. "But we want the naga territory," Umlaut protested.
Sammy shook his head. He knew where Princess Nada was.
"Among goblins?" Umlaut asked incredulously.
A cloud of smoke formed before them. "That's what the tomcat witnesses."
"He whats?"
"Testifies, asseverates, indicates, pronounces, affirms—"
"Says?"
"Whatever," the cloud agreed crossly.
"You're too late, Metria. We've already located Nada Naga."
"Of course, and I wish you all the best with her. But it's really Sesame Serpent I came to see."
Sesame's head jerked up. What?
The demoness seemed to understand Serpentine. "I know where to find the end to Soufflé’s curse. So if you really want to abate it, now's the time."
Sesame looked at Umlaut. He looked at Claire. "Is this true?"
Claire nodded, though she seemed ill at ease. Apparently it was true, but there was a kicker somewhere. Still, it was a chance that needed to be taken. "Better go for it, then," Umlaut said.
Sesame wriggled uncertainly. She didn't want to leave him alone among the goblins.
"You aren't the one to go," Metria said. "The cats can handle it. You can stay with Umlaut."
Sesame wasn't entirely easy with that, either, but did not protest.
The cats departed, Claire with some reluctance. Was there some price to be paid for the abatement of the curse? "What's the catch?" Umlaut demanded of the demoness. But he was too late; she had dissipated.
They proceeded on to the mountain. It was rounded, with tiers and apertures galore. Goblins were running in and out of the multiple entrances, doing obscure things. The scene reminded Umlaut of a huge busy anthill. Each goblin was about half the height of a human man, dark skinned, with a big ugly head and big hands and feet. Every goblin was scowling, sneering, or looking angry.
They were challenged at the main entrance by a goblin guard. "What do you jerks want?"
"I am Umlaut, and this is Sesame, and this is Para Boat. We have come to deliver a letter to Princess Nada Naga, who we understand is here,"
The guard checked a listing. "Who do you claim to be, knot-head?"
"Umlaut," Umlaut repeated, annoyed.
The guard pointed at a particular entrance. "Take that one, joker."
Sesame and Para started to follow. "Not you, snake eyes. Or you, quack foot."
Sesame raised her head and gaped her mouth impressively, emulating an annoyed dragon. The goblin hastily rechecked his list. "Okay, you're on," he conceded grudgingly.
They entered the indicated hole. Beyond it was a long, dusky tunnel. They followed it down, down into the very depths of the mountain. Umlaut began to feel claustrophobic; if there were a collapse of the tunnel, they would be trapped and perhaps suffocated. But Sesame was handling it well, so he tried to emulate her attitude.
The passage ended at a stout closed door. Uncertain what was expected, Umlaut knocked on it.
It opened to show a lovely goblin woman in a sleek black gown. She was dark in the goblin manner, with long black hair, small hands and feet, and attractive face and figure. She stood less than half Umlaut's height but was aesthetic in all the ways the goblin guard had been ugly. "You would be Umlaut and Sesame," she said, her voice dulcet. "And Para Boat! I am so glad to meet you at last. I am Gwendolyn Goblin, chiefess of Goblin Mountain, but please call me Gwenny. Do come in."
"Uh, thank you," Umlaut said. "I think we came to the wrong door. We were looking for Nada Naga."
"She is here, but I decided to interview you first. A princess can't be too careful."
"Oh, I don't mean her any harm! I just have a letter for her."
"Similar to the letter that caused Demon Jupiter to hurl his Red Spot at us?"
"I hope not! The Good Magician told me to deliver the letters, and we'd find the answer to that, uh, problem. So I'm doing it." But she had made her point: Folk had to be careful about letters.
"Do sit down. I have prepared a repast for you."
"A, uh, what?"
"I thought you would be hungry after your arduous journey here."
The last good meal he had eaten had been carrot. He settled down on the plush low couch she indicated, and Sesame coiled beside it. Para relaxed his feet and rested on the carpeted floor.
Gwenny brought an ornate tray set with two crystal goblets, a plateful of cookies, a parchment, and a freshly stunned rat. She gave the rat to Sesame, who appreciated it and set about swallowing it whole, and the parchment to Para. "My scouts were scouting around a distant lake," she explained. "They found this and brought it back for burning in a fire, but I rescued it. Male goblins don't have much sense. I believe it is a picture of your mother." She unrolled it, and sure enough, there was a painting of the loveliest boat anyone could have imagined. Para didn't seem to have eyes but evidently was able to see the picture. He gazed at it and faded out, leaving the picture on the floor.
"I didn't know he could do that," Umlaut said, surprised.
"It's not magic," Gwenny explained. "He is so taken with it that he is entirely tuned out, not aware of anything else."
Umlaut realized that he had been slow again. Of course when a person tuned out he became invisible to the world. He had somehow thought it was the other way around.
"And that leaves us," Gwenny said, sitting down beside Umlaut, halfway facing him, and crossing her legs. They were very nice legs. "Have some boot rear and a cookie." She held the tray toward him.
"Uh, thank you." He took one goblet—naturally that would be the kind of drinking vessel goblins had—and a cookie. He was prepared for the drink, which gave the drinker a pleasant kick in the rear when sipped and a harder one when gulped. But the cookie was odd; it looked like a mass of lines and wires. "I haven't seen one like this."
"It records your identity and tastes," she explained. "So that every cookie thereafter will be perfect for you. Com Pewter discovered this kind and likes it very well."
"Oh." Further protest seemed pointless, so he ate it, and it actually tasted very good.
Gwenny sipped from her own goblet and nipped from her own cookie. The thought of her being gently kicked in the rear, or spanked, and her private tastes checked out made Umlaut almost lose his concentration. "I think we have much in common," she said, recrossing her legs. Umlaut almost choked on his mouthful; they were extremely nice legs.
He realized belatedly that she was expecting a response, but he had no idea what to say. "Uh, maybe if you read the letter, you could decide whether Nada Naga should see it." He leaned down to get the letter from the bundle and inadvertently saw even more of her legs under her short black skirt. He barely got the letter and straightened up without freaking out. "Uh, here." He held it toward her.
She leaned forward to take it. She was well below him in height, and her gown was not tight in front, so that he saw down inside it. This time he did freak out. He knew it because the next thing he was conscious of was her standing beside him, wiping hi
s face with a cool cloth. "Are you all right, Umlaut? I'll never forgive myself if my food made you ill."
"I uh, I'm all right," he said. "I, that is—" What was he to say? He decided on the truth. "I am a bit, uh, naive about things. I, uh, saw something I shouldn't and freaked out."
"Why, how utterly charming," she said and kissed him on the cheek. There was a faint scent of roses about her. "You are just the way Metria said you would be."
"Metria!" Here was more mischief. "What did she, uh, tell you?"
"Oh, must I give that away already? Very well. She said that you are actually a distant prince who is looking for an economic or defensive liaison with a goblin tribe. That you are traveling incognito in the company of two natives to conceal your identity, so that others won't judge you by your rank instead of yourself. She said you are rather young and shy, but very good-hearted."
"But I'm just here to deliver a letter!"
"Yes, that is your pretext, so that you can travel around the country looking for a suitable princess or, in this case, chiefess."
"Looking for a princess? Why?"
"Why, to marry, of course. To make the liaison."
"To marry!" he said, shocked.
"Perhaps you are concerned because you are human and I am goblin. I assure you that there is no problem an accommodation spell can't handle."
His mind was going numb, and it wasn't unduly sharp at the best of times. "A what spell?"
"Since you ask, I will invoke it." She did something. Then she was his size. Or rather, he was her size, because the couch seemed twice as big and so did the rest of the chamber.
"I, uh, see," he said, amazed.
"So if you would like to make that liaison with me, I am available. I must confess that since my closest friend Jenny Elf got married, I have felt somewhat out of sorts."
"But, uh—" He ran out of words before getting fairly started.
"You are evidently not accustomed to this sort of interaction, being just barely below induction into the Adult Conspiracy. But you surely understand political expediency. I think a liaison with Goblin Mountain will be mutually beneficial, and I assure you that I can be as accommodating as the spell."
How had he gotten into this? Oh, yes, Metria had set another trap for him. Now he understood why she had found a different errand for the cats: Claire would have fathomed the situation immediately and protected him from it. Now how was he going to get out of it? "I, uh—"