Demons Don't Dream

  "Hee haw haw!" the donkey brayed. "That's for sure."

  "In fact, what we need to get out of trouble is a ride," Dug said. "A fine animal like you could do us a big favor."

  "Hee haw! I'm the Ass O' Nine Tails. I can give you a ride anywhere. But you'll have to listen to my tales."

  Dug glanced at the other two. "Seems fair to me. Can you take us to the Good Magician's castle?"

  "Hee haw! That I can. Hop on."

  Dug congratulated himself, internally. He had succeeded in converting a menace into an asset. A genuine ass-et.

  Jenny looked doubtful, but didn't protest. That meant that she had concluded that the giant ass was not dangerous to ride. So he helped her mount, and then climbed on behind her, and Sherlock climbed on behind him. There was generous room for all three, as well as Sammy Cat in front of Jenny.

  The Ass started off. "Hee haw! I have nine tales, of course," he said. He flicked up the first of his tails. "First I will tell you about the Deadly Night Shade and the Kith of Death. It seemed that a certain shade of the night was lonely, having no kithing kin. So he decided that nobody else should have kithing cousins either. He became the deadliest night shade of all."

  At first Dug found the tale interesting. But after a while it palled, because the Ass was great on de-tail but not on plot. He told how the shade killed one cousin after another, using his deadly kiss, until all the kith were dead. There it ended. There was no resolution and no justice, just continuous killing. Dug realized that the Ass's memory was a good deal better than his originality. Yet he realized that he had seen many similar stories on TV back in Mundania.

  "Then there is the tale of Rubella and the Fool Moon," the Ass continued as soon as the first story expired in dullness. He told how Rubella kept fooling the moon, adding a measly pockmark on the moon's face each time. After an hour or so of the narration, the moon's whole face was pocked and cratered, but the moon was too foolish to learn how to stop Rubella. Again, there was no point; it was just one pock after another.

  Then there was the tale of the Fait Accompli and the DeOgreant. Fait set out to weaken the ogres by eliminating their powerful smell. She used a special roll-on gunk to deogreize each ogre in turn, until no ogre had a strong smell. Unfortunately she accomplished nothing, because the ogres remained horribly strong and still crunched bones at a great rate. The bulk of the tale was concerned with a description of each of a hundred or so ogres Fait dealt with.

  Then there was the tale of Michael Velli and the Crow Bar. Michael set out with devious cunning and no ethics to ruin the crows' favorite hangout: a bar where they could drink themselves silly on com squeezings. He did this by informing each crow separately that the bar was closed. When, after another hour of narration, he had told each of about three hundred crows this, the bar was indeed closed for lack of patronage. Michael was very pleased with his connivance.

  Dug wasn't. He was lulled to sleep by the dullness of the tales, while the huge Ass plodded on.

  He woke amidst the tale of Mother Hen and her sons Vim and Vigor. Exactly what kind of a trial these cocky youngsters were to Ms. Hen he was never to learn, because he realized that they were approaching a castle. The party had arrived, thank goodness.

  'The Good Magician's castle!" he exclaimed, waking Jenny, Sammy, and Sherlock, who it seemed had been just as bored as he with the endless tales. They slid down to the ground, flexing the dullness out of their legs.

  "No, this is Castle Roogna," the Ass said, surprised, flicking several tails.

  "So it is!" Jenny said, recognizing it. "There's the orchard and the zombie graveyard."

  "But we were supposed to go to the Good Magician's castle," Dug protested.

  "By no means," the Ass demurred. "I was going to Castle Roogna."

  "But you agreed to take us to the Good Magician's castle!" Dug was adding annoyance to his confusion.

  "Hee haw! You asked could I take you there, and I agreed I could. I did not say I would, and you did not ask me to. So I came here."

  Dug realized that he had been had by the Ass. There had been no definite commitment. It had been, as it were, a handshake agreement, not worth the paper it was written on. And the Ass had told them such continuously dull tales that all three of them had fallen asleep and been unable to correct the route when it went wrong. Jenny Elf would have recognized the wrong direction, and acted to correct it. Certainly Sammy Cat could have found the way to the right castle, had he too not been lulled into sleep. But nobody could have remained awake for the whole of that barrage of asinine tales. Dug felt like a fool moon, and a real country rubella, being the victim of this fait accompli.

  The Demoness Metria appeared. "Oh, too bad," she said silkily. "I see that your Companion has let you down, and allowed you to be delivered to the wrong castle. How unfortunate, when you could so readily have had a more competent Companion." She inhaled again, allowing her full blouse to turn translucent, not far from Dug's face.

  "Hee haw haw!" the Ass brayed gustily.

  Jenny looked as if she were about to speak a word not properly in the Juvenile Lexicon. Dug saved her the trouble by taking action he knew he would regret. He swung a fist at the demoness' face.

  Naturally his hand passed right through Metria's head without resistance. Then she stepped into him and planted a too, too solid kiss on his mouth. Then she faded into smoke and drifted away on the nearest vagrant breeze. She had had her revenge.

  Dug realized that he had lost this challenge. Fortunately it had not been a game challenge, just the mischief of a jealous fantasy female. There was no point in belaboring it; he'd just have to get back on track and get where he was going. And hope he wasn't too late.

  "What's the fastest way to the Good Magician's castle?" he asked.

  "Be sensible, man," Sherlock said. "She's there already. You need to figure out where she's going from there."

  "He's right," Jenny said. "And the best place to ask is Castle Roogna."

  "You figure the king will know?"

  "Oh, we shouldn't bother King Dor about this," Jenny said. "I was thinking—well, I can't say right now, but maybe it will work out."

  Dug looked at her curiously. "You can't say what you expect to happen?"

  She fidgeted. "It's a special situation. I'm doing my best, really I am."

  Dug looked at Sherlock, who shrugged. There was no question that Jenny meant well, but was she competent? Dug couldn't see how this could concern the dread Adult Conspiracy she was so concerned about, and couldn't think of any other reason for her to be evasive. But if she did have a worthwhile notion, he needed it. "Okay. Lead the way."

  Jenny gladly obliged. She led them by assorted fruit trees to the moat, where the huge horrendous moat monster eyed them. "Soufflé!" Jenny exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

  The monster hissed.

  "Oh, you're here to baby-sit the twins? Where's Electra?"

  The monster hissed again.

  "Oh, she and Dolph are off visiting the Isle of View? What would they be doing there?"

  "You know he can't tell you that!" Sherlock said.

  Jenny was abashed. "That's right, he can't!" She faced the monster again. "This is Dug, who is a Player in the game, and this is Sherlock, of the Black Wave. They're friends."

  Soufflé Serpent nodded and swam back across the moat. Jenny led the way over the drawbridge. Dug wondered whether she had made up the dialogue with the monster, who had perhaps recognized her by smell and accepted her.

  Then he saw two little children, hardly more than babies, in pink bassinets at the edge of the moat. The monster was indeed watching them.

  "But is that safe?" he asked. "That monster could gulp them down in an instant."

  "As safe as anywhere," Jenny said. "Nobody will bother them with Soufflé on guard. They like him, and he likes them. He hasn't had much chance to play with royal children recently."

  Dug could appreciate why not. "I gather that Electra is their mother? Who is she? I seem to re
member you saying something about blue jeans on a princess."

  "Princess Electra is Prince Dolph's wife. She was caught by a curse meant for a princess and slept for much of a thousand years until Prince Dolph kissed her awake. Now she is a princess, so maybe the curse knew what it was doing. The twins are Dawn and Eve. When they get old enough to talk, Dawn will be able to tell anything about any living thing, and Eve will be able to tell anything about any inanimate thing."

  "Those are good talents," Dug said.

  "Yes, they are Magician-class talents. Such magic runs in the royal line."

  They came to the main door. It was open. Dug wondered at this easy access to the leading castle of the land. But with a moat monster on guard, maybe it made sense.

  A young woman appeared. She had jade-green hair and aqua-green eyes. "Hi, Ivy," Jenny said.

  "I'm Ida," the woman said.

  "Oh, I keep confusing you two!" Jenny turned to the others. "This is Dug, who is in the game; I'm his Companion. This is Sherlock, who is a member of the Black Wave." Then, after a pause: "This is Princess Ida, Ivy's twin sister."

  Dug was taken aback. He didn't know what to say to a princess. Fortunately Sherlock did. "Nice to meet you, Princess. We met Princess Nada Naga before."

  Dug realized that he hadn't thought of Nada that way, despite being frustrated by her princessly liabilities. Why should he be abashed here, when he hadn't been with Nada?

  "Oh, yes, she and Ivy are best friends," Ida said brightly. "I am here to learn the ways of princesses, because I didn't know I was one, until recently. What are you here for, Sherlock?"

  "I'm looking for a place for my people to settle. I figure there's bound to be somewhere where we're needed."

  "Oh, I'm sure there is," Ida agreed brightly. She turned to Dug. "I did not know that Castle Roogna was participating in the game. Why did you come here?"

  "I was an ass," Dug said. "I mean, I let an ass fool me into going to the wrong place. Now I just have to believe that there is some way to do what I have to do."

  "Oh, I'm sure there is," Ida said, exactly as she had with Sherlock. She seemed to be a very positive person.

  "That's wonderful!" Jenny exclaimed.

  Dug and Sherlock looked at her. "It's wonderful that the Princess is being polite to us?" Dug asked.

  "Oh, princesses are always polite," Ida said. "She means that she's glad that both of you will succeed in your quests."

  "No offense. Princess, but how can you know that?" Sherlock inquired.

  "It is my talent," Ida explained. "The Idea. When I have an idea, it comes true. But it has to originate with someone who doesn't know my talent. Neither of you knew."

  "You mean that just our telling you our hopes will make them come true?" Dug asked doubtfully.

  "That's the way I hoped it would be," Jenny said. "Now we'll just have to see how these things happen."

  Sherlock glanced at Dug. "This as weird to you as it is to me?"

  "At least," Dug said. "I didn't even say what it is I have to do. It's not winning the game, it's warning Kim in time. And I still don't know how to reach her. But I guess there's a way."

  "There is; I'm sure of it," Ida said. "But come in; I didn't mean to keep you standing here." She turned and led the way into the interior.

  Dug wondered whether things were really as positive as others chose to believe. But this was a magic land, so maybe things were magically positive.

  They came to a central chamber where a man was sitting. He stood as they entered. "Ah, these must be the folk I am looking for," he said, smiling.

  "I'm sure they are," Princess Ida agreed.

  Sherlock seized the moment. "If you're looking for neighbors—"

  "As a matter of fact, we are," the man said. "We would like several hundred men, women, and children to colonize the fringe of Lake Ogre-Chobee and keep it civilized. We are too busy with our plays to take proper time with it. But most other Xanthians are too busy with their own pursuits to tackle a chore like that." He paused. "I'm Curtis Curse Friend, here on a recruiting mission."

  "The Curse Fiends—uh, Friends are all right," Jenny murmured. "They have a long history."

  The man glanced at her. "So do the elves. But I never before saw one your size."

  "Do you care about the color of those men, women, and children?" Sherlock inquired cautiously.

  "Of course. We prefer that they not be green, because they would get lost in the vegetation as well as getting confused with the chobees swimming in the lake."

  "Well, we have several hundred black people up in the isthmus who are looking for a home. But it's quite a journey this far, what with the Gap Chasm and all, and I believe Lake Ogre-Chobee is farther south. It could take some time for them to get there."

  "Do you care about cursing?"

  Sherlock looked at him sidelong. "Do you curse without cause?"

  "Only to protect ourselves, or to clear rubbish." Curtis paused. "I trust you realize that we are talking about explosive magical curses, not harpy talk."

  "Right. No fowl language. We feel about curses the way we do about arrows: we don't want them hurled at us from ambush. We just want to mind our business and get along with our neighbors."

  "We have a way for you to travel," Curtis said. "We have some magic bubble jars we traded for. Each bubble will hold one large person, or two small ones, and will float safely to the destination named for it. It would take about one day for a string of bubbles to cross Xanth."

  Sherlock stuck out his hand. "I think we got a deal."

  Curtis took it. "I was sure we would." He brought out a little bottle "Oops, this one's almost empty; there's only enough for two bubbles left." He fished in his pocket for another.

  "May I have that one?" Jenny asked. "I know someone who could use it."

  Curtis shrugged and gave it to her. He brought out another for Sherlock. "This will make several hundred bubbles, if used carefully. Simply blow a bubble with this bubble-ring, and have a person step into it in the first minute before it sets. Then tell it where to go. Don't touch it from outside until it gets there. We'll have a man waiting at Lake Ogre-Chobee to pop the first one; after that you can handle them yourselves."

  Sherlock turned to Dug. "It seems that my quest is done. I'll be going back to the isthmus with this bottle, as soon as I know you are okay."

  "I will blow a bubble to carry you to the isthmus, as soon as you are ready," Curds said.

  "You might as well go now," Dug said. "You have been a great help to me, and you don't owe me anything."

  "No, I want to see it through. If my solution was here, yours must be too. We just have to find it."

  "Well, we might ask a magic mirror," Jenny suggested.

  "I will fetch one," Ida said, hurrying off.

  "That's one nice young woman, even if she is a princess," Curtis said. "I came here to explain my mission, hoping that the answer would be here, and she was very positive. I had this idea that maybe I'd find some colonists today, and she agreed. She must have known you were coming."

  "We didn't know we were coming here," Dug said. "It was an accident." Then he remembered how the Demoness Metria had tricked them. "I think."

  Ida returned with an ordinary mirror. "Ask this," she said to Dug. "You don't have to rhyme, but it helps."

  Dug pondered rhymes. "Mirror, mirror, in my hand— where is Kim in this land?"

  A picture formed: a green melon. That was all.

  "She's in a melon?" Dug asked, perplexed.

  "That's a gourd!" Jenny said. "She's gone to the hypnogourd. Oh, that's an adventure."

  "I've heard references to some kind of gourd," Dug said. "But how can a person be in one?"

  "It's a whole nother realm," Jenny explained. "You just look in the peephole, and you're there. I'll go with you, and Sammy will find Kim. But I warn you, this will be a weird adventure."

  "Weirder than what I've seen already?" Dug asked disbelievingly. "Weirder than having a nine-tailed ass make a
n ass of me?"

  "Much." She looked at Sherlock. "So I guess you don't need to wait any longer. We'll get gourds here, and that will be it."

  "You sure?" Sherlock asked.

  "Oh, yes. Obviously the prize is in the gourd realm, so she'll either win it or lose it, and her game will be over."

  "Okay." Sherlock extended his hand, and Dug shook it. "It's been great knowing you, Dug, and if you're ever traveling around Lake Ogre-Chobee—"

  "I'll drop by," Dug said, suddenly sorry to see the man go. "I just want to say—"

  "I know." Sherlock wasn't any more for emotional display than Dug was.

  "We do have gourds in a garden near the castle," Ida said. "We shall bring three in for you and Jenny and Sammy."

  "Thanks," Dug said. His mouth felt dry.

  Chapter 16

  PRIZE

  Kim looked around. The place she least wanted to enter was the boneyard, so this was surely where the prize was hidden. So she nerved herself and marched forward.

  Bubbles stayed right with her, nervously close. The dog shared her apprehension about this place. Kim knew that there really wasn't anything to fear from bones; they were dead, so were no more dangerous than stones or chips of wood. Even with magic they shouldn't be fearsome, because they formed into characters like Marrow. In any event, this was the dream realm, where nothing was truly physical. A dream, in a fantasy land, in the game, which was all imaginary to begin with. Still she felt a superstitious chill. She was glad she had Bubbles and Nada for company.

  Marrow had disappeared, but she knew he would turn up again, and in a guise intended to repel her. She braced herself for the show.

  Meanwhile the landscape was bad enough. It was dark, and growing darker. A monstrous gibbous moon emerged from behind a cloud—and the moon was bone white, with bony pocks. In fact, it looked like one big bone. That very word, gibbous, had always made her flinch, though she knew that all it meant was rounded, more than half full. It had nothing to do with gibbons, which weren't bad animals anyway. But the moon was always gibbous when something awful was going to happen, such as a poor girl getting murdered or a vampire striking.