The way opened out, leading to what looked like a schoolyard. There was a sign: BOARDING SCHOOL. In smaller print, it said LEARN EVERYTHING ABOUT BOARDS. Well, that did make sense.
But as they entered the yard, a board came flying out and bounced on the ground. "The board is bored of boarding the board!" an angry voice yelled.
"Let's not go there," Sherlock said.
Clio was glad to agree. They dodged to the side again, just as the dragon appeared at the edge of the yard. Somehow it had gotten around the angry ogre family.
They almost ran into a tower. "Help!" a girl called from a window at its top. She wore a robe and a small crown.
Sherlock looked up at her. "I'm not sure how we can do that. Why are you confined?"
"I'm a princess in distress," she said. "I got bored with boarding school and tried to run away, so the motherboard gave me detention and the fatherboard put me in here. I must stay here until I draw a blank."
"We should help her," Clio said. "But I confess I draw a blank on how to do so." Then, hearing herself: "No pun intended."
"But maybe a pun is intended," he said. He faced the princess. "Try drawing a blank."
"If I knew how to do that, I'd already be out, silly," she said.
"A blank is a circle of metal that looks like a coin," he explained. "Draw a picture of one. Just draw a circle on the wall."
"Like this?" she asked.
Suddenly the buxom princess appeared on the ground outside the castle. "It worked!" she exclaimed. "I'm out. Oh, thank you, black knight." She flung her arms around Sherlock and kissed him resoundingly, her robe trying to fall open.
For some obscure reason that disturbed Clio. "You should return to boarding school," she said. "You don't want to be late for class."
"Oh, that's right!" the princess said. "I might get spanked by the disciplinary board." She ran toward the school, drawing her robe back together.
"They probably enjoy spanking her," Sherlock remarked.
"I don't understand."
"Fortunately. It's a Mundane thing. We had better move on."
But the way ahead was blocked by a wicked thicket. When they turned to seek another way, the dragon was there. But it no longer seemed as threatening. "Drew has made progress," Drusie said. "The dragon is willing to listen now."
"That's a relief," Clio said.
"The language is weird, but the thoughts are beginning to take shape. This dragon is from—from Asia. Is there such a place you know of?"
"Yes," Sherlock said. "It's part of Mundania."
"But they don't have dragons in Mundania!" Clio protested.
"They do in Asia. In their mythology, at any rate."
"That's it," Drusie said. "Drew's getting it now. There were many dragons, but as time passed the humans expanded and became more skeptical and squeezed them out, and the dragons had to move. But there was hardly any place left to go. This one fled down into a long narrow region, the kam—kam—"
"Kamcatka," Sherlock said. "It's a big peninsula on the eastern side of Russia, in the north Pacific."
"A peninsula!" Clio exclaimed. "That became an entry to Xanth. It happens."
"Yes, I have heard of a number of cases. There's something magical about peninsulas."
"How did you learn of this?"
"We have a good communication system in the Black Wave. It's called Black Mail."
Clio winced. "So this is a Mundane oriental dragon. It must be feeling somewhat lost in Xanth."
"Yes," Drew said. "The last human folk it encountered attacked it with stones and spells, so it thought you would too. I explained that you're not a normal human, you're nice. But it still would like to encounter something familiar."
Clio winced again. From a dragon's perspective, few humans were nice. "I appreciate that. Maybe it should go to Castle MaiDragon, where Becka and Che can surely find it a compatible hunting ground."
"But it's lost. How will it find its way?"
That was a problem. "Perhaps we can find it a guide." She had no idea how, but it seemed better to seek a guide than to hold too long a dialog with this huge alien dragon.
"Let's go back to the regular path," Sherlock said. "Maybe we'll find someone there."
They returned to the path. The three-headed dragon was now behaving well; Drew's contact with it had been effective.
"Wait out of sight," Clio told the dragon. "We'll need to explain things first, to any prospective guide."
The dragon settled down behind a beerbarrel tree. They went onto the path.
An oddly garbed man was walking down it. He looked confused.
"He's another stray from Kamcatka!" Drew said. "In a manner."
"There must be an interface," Clio said. "They can form randomly, and sometimes whole Waves pass through before they close." Then she picked up on his qualification. "In a manner?"
"Maybe he can explain it."
"Hello," Clio said to the man as they met on the path.
He looked at her blankly.
"He doesn't speak our language," Drew said.
"But every human speaks the same language in Xanth. It's part of the magic."
"He doesn't know that. He's not a normal man."
Clio brushed aside the uncomfortable oddity. "It doesn't matter. Tell him he can speak and understand our language."
Drew did. The man looked surprised. "I can?"
Clio smiled. "Yes. I am Clio, and this is Sherlock. Who are you?"
"I am Mikhail. I am seeking my true love. But I got lost, and can't seem to find her."
"Who is she?"
"I don't know."
"Then how can she be your true love?"
"By definition. I am her dream man."
Clio paused to take stock. She was beginning to understand Drew's qualification. "I fear I am a bit slow today. She knows you, while you do not know her?"
"Yes. But I am sure she is a very nice person, and that I am ideal for her."
"Let's hope so. Perhaps we should start at the beginning. When did she come to know you?"
"Several months ago. She wished to have a man, but there were none in her village that were suitable, so she dreamed up one who would be perfect for her. As it happened, I fit the description, so her dream governed me. I must be with her! But something happened, and I was unable to locate her. So now I am looking, for she surely misses me."
Clio looked at Sherlock. "Can you make sense of this?"
"I think so. It is the habit of lonely folk to dream of ideal companions. I have done it myself. Usually nothing comes of it. Nothing did for me. But with the right magic, who knows? This woman must have had a talent for dreaming, and her dream man became real. I should think that originally he would have gone to her, but—well, he came to Xanth instead."
There was an ugly nuance that she elected not to explore. "And she did not? That would explain why he can't find her."
"Perhaps. But since there's very little magic in Mundania, maybe it could happen only in Xanth."
"Only if she's in Xanth too."
"We have to assume that she is."
There was still something obscure about this. "Well, we need a guide for the dragon. Is there a chance that Mikhail will do?"
"Well, it would be easier for the dragon to travel in the company of a man. The man could ask directions."
"Men don't ask directions."
Sherlock smiled. "Then he needs to find his woman soon, so she can ask directions."
"I am very tired," Mikhail said. "I must sleep now."
"Can you wait a moment? There is a dragon I'd like to introduce you to. We have an understanding; I think you will be able to sleep safely in its company."
"A dragon," Mikhail repeated warily. "It is hard for any person to be safe in such company."
"Nevertheless, I believe we should see." She took him by the hand and led him along the path.
There was the dragon, curled near the tree. "That's a Russian dragon!" Mikhail exclaimed. "Why didn't you sa
y so?"
"You can get along with it?"
"Well, I don't know that, but at least it's familiar. Everything else has been uncomfortably strange."
"Introduce them," Clio told Drew. "Let them converse a bit. I will go consult with Sherlock."
Drew stayed with the man and dragon, connecting them telepathically. Clio returned to Sherlock. "You said we should assume that Mikhail's dream woman is also in Xanth. What is your rationale?"
"I think he blundered into Xanth," Sherlock said. "Yet he still feels her desire for him. So she must be here too. It may be like the dragon's telepathy. I don't think she could reach him from Mundania."
"This seems like tortured logic to me. How could—"
She broke off, for another person was coming along the path. This was a young woman. She was petite and well formed, with black hair to her waist. Like the dragon and man, she appeared dazed.
"Hello," Clio said. "I am Clio."
"I am Noi. I am lost."
"Where is your home?"
"In Thailand."
"Tie Land?" Sherlock asked. "Where they grow ties, and are fit to be tied?"
Noi looked at him blankly.
"I was there once. There's a small village in the center called Knottingham, named after Granny Knott," he said. "The favorite dinner there is bowtie pasta."
"I am sorry, I do not know of this place," the woman said.
"I think that's Thailand, Mundania," Clio said. "How did you come here, Noi?"
"I was riding a motorcycle, but something happened. I don't know how I came to this strange land."
Things were coming magically together. "Did you dream of a man?"
Noi looked sharply at her. "How do you know this?"
"As you said, this is a strange land. Strange things happen. We just met a man who said he was the dream of a woman."
Her eyes grew large. "Is his name Mikhail?"
"Yes."
"I dreamed he would come from a romantically far land to take me away. But I never thought he really would. You say he is here?"
"Yes. We just talked with him. He said he was tired, so we introduced him to a dragon—"
"A dragon!"
"We have come to know this dragon, and it knows that this man is not to be eaten. We think they can travel together, with the man handling the humans they encounter, and the dragon protecting him from monsters. Such things happen, in Xanth."
"This land is Xanth?"
"Yes. It's a land of magic and puns, and many nonhuman creatures who may be as smart as humans. You will surely like it when you get to know it."
"Maybe if I could find my dream man, it would be easier."
"Readily done. We'll introduce you now." Clio led the way to where the dragon waited.
"I hope it happens," Noi said. Evidently she had suffered disappointments before.
The dragon was there, but not the man. Clio suppressed a horrible suspicion. "Where is Mikhail?"
"He's gone," Drew said, flitting to her pocket. He spoke only to her.
She answered him silently; she had learned to communicate in mock illusion. "But the dragon was not supposed to—"
"It didn't. Mikhail lay down to sleep, and faded out."
"Faded out!"
"As if he no longer existed. We have been looking for him, in case he just teleported somewhere else, but then I should be able to find his mind."
"His mind faded too?"
"Yes. He's completely gone."
Clio turned to Noi. "It seems there is a confusion. Mikhail was here, then he disappeared. The dragon did not harm him. I don't understand it."
"I think I do," Noi said. "He is my dream man. He doesn't exist when I'm not dreaming him."
Clio took stock. "Let's discuss this with Sherlock. Perhaps he will have some useful idea how to handle this." She was coming to depend more on the Black Wave man, as he was generally sensible.
They returned to Sherlock. "Noi's dream man does not seem to exist when she isn't asleep. What can we do?"
"This is new to me. We had better discuss this with the dragons. Four minds are better than two."
Clio introduced the little dragons to Noi, and explained about their telepathy. The dragons made contact with her mind, reassuring her. Then they settled down to a serious discussion.
"So you dreamed Mikhail, and he came to exist," Sherlock said. "He knows he is your dream man, and wants to be with you. But it seems this is possible only when you are asleep."
"That is my understanding," Noi agreed. "I had not realized that he existed at all, outside my mind."
"He does now," Clio said.
"Maybe we should talk to Mikhail again," Sherlock said. "If Noi sleeps, will he reappear?"
"I should think so," Clio said.
"With magic, many things are possible. We just have to find something."
Clio doubted that this would be easy to do, but had no better idea. "Do you think you could sleep now?" she asked Noi.
"I don't know how to will myself to sleep."
"I believe I saw a clothing tree nearby," Clio said. "It may have shirts."
Noi looked at her blankly, but Sherlock understood. "It does; I saw it. I'll fetch one." He walked back along the path.
"We have an entire realm of dreams," Clio said. "It can be entered via a gourd with a peephole. It might be possible for you to meet him there, in the gourd."
"But I want to meet him in life," Noi protested. "I have lived so long without my dream man, I don't want to be without him any longer."
"Life does get lonely, without a man," Clio agreed.
Sherlock returned, carrying a shirt. "Try this on," he told Noi. "It's a sleep-shirt."
The woman shrugged and pulled the shirt on over her head and clothing. It came all the way down to her knees. "It's a good shirt, but I don't see how—"
Sherlock caught her as she fell asleep on her feet. He laid her down carefully on a mossy bank.
"She doesn't understand about the way magic works here," Clio said. "She assumed that the shirt was merely to wear when sleeping, not that made a person sleep."
"Mikhail is back," Drew said. "He thinks he merely slept for a while."
"Tell him to come here," Clio said. "Maybe if he actually sees her, it will be all right."
Soon Mikhail appeared. "Your little dragon said—" He paused. "Who is she?"
"Do you like her?" Clio asked.
"She's a sleeping beauty. I find her strangely attractive, though I've never seen her before."
"She is the woman who dreamed you."
Mikhail stared. "She's the one? I have found her at last? This is wonderful!"
"But there's a complication."
"I must wake her and tell her I am here."
"I'm not sure that is feasible."
Mikhail got down on his knees, leaned forward, and kissed Noi on the lips. She continued sleeping.
"She's in a sleep-shirt," Sherlock said.
"She won't readily wake."
"Then she must remove it," Mikhail said.
"We can do that," Sherlock said.
"I don't think—" Clio said.
Sherlock lifted Noi up, and Mikhail gently worked the shirt off her. Then Sherlock laid her down again, and Mikhail kissed her again.
She woke immediately—and Mikhail faded out. "I was afraid of that," Clio said.
"What happened?" Noi asked. "Did I sleep? I apologize for—"
"The sleep shirt put you to sleep," Clio explained.
Noi looked down at herself. "But I don't seem to be wearing it."
"We took it off you," Sherlock said. "So you could wake. But—" He looked somewhat helplessly at Clio.
"Mikhail was here," Clio said. "He said you were a sleeping beauty. I tried to caution him, but he did not listen."
"He is like that," Noi agreed. "Impetuous in love."
"He kissed you. But when you woke, he faded. We had hoped for better."
Noi nodded. "That is the way it would be." A te
ar trickled from the corner of one eye.
"There may be a way," Sherlock said. "But it is risky."
"A way for me to be with him? I will take the risk."
"I have what we call reverse wood. It reverses things. If I gave him a chip, it would reverse him. But not necessarily in the way we wish. It might make him real instead of dream—or it might abolish him even as a dream. We can't be sure."
Noi considered. "I don't want to destroy him. I don't want to risk hurting him. Better to let him go to some other woman. Perhaps she will treat him well." Another tear trickled.
"I think we should let him decide that," Clio said. "Will you let him do that?"
"I would not go against his wish. But oh, if he should perish because of me—I would rather perish instead."
"He may feel the same. It's a gamble, but perhaps the only way to resolve the dilemma. I think we should explain it to him."
Noi considered again, then nodded. "Let it be as he wills it."
Sherlock gave her the sleep-shirt, and she donned it again. In less than a moment she was asleep. Clio had to agree with Mikhail: she was very pretty in repose, with her black hair spread out to frame her face.
Mikhail reappeared. "I seem to have gotten confused. I was about to wake my love, but I'm not sure I did."
"You kissed her," Sherlock said. "She woke—and you faded out. You are her dream man; she has to be asleep to dream you. Now you have a grave decision to make."
"I will gladly kiss her again!"
Noi was right: he was romantically impulsive. That was a nice trait in a man.
Sherlock smiled. "Not that, exactly. The problem is that you are out of phase with her; you are here only when she sleeps. If we could reverse that, you could be with her when she is awake. We may be able to do that. But there is a risk."
"I'll take any risk, to be with her."
"The risk is that the reversal might destroy you. We can't be sure."
Mikhail gazed at Noi. "She dreamed me to be her ideal. But she is my ideal. I must be with her, or seek oblivion."
Clio was extremely nervous about this, but kept quiet. Their ploy would either work, or not.
A chip appeared in Sherlock's hand. "Take this chip of reverse wood. It will magically reverse you. For good or ill."