Faun and Games (21 page)

"Limited to the region where the death occurs.
 
That means that though a

person reconstitutes, he can never return to that spot, or ever come

close to it.
 
The limit is about six months on a side, From and To, and

equivalent distances north and south."

Both Forrest and Imbri were perplexed.
 
"But why can't a person just go

there anyway?" Imbri asked.

"He just can't.
 
It no longer exists for him.
 
He can see the limit, but

can't cross it."

"You mean it exists, only he can't go there?" Forrest asked.
 
"Others

can go, but not the one who died there'?"

"Yes."

They pondered that a moment.
 
Then Forrest had another question:

"Suppose I get killed by the ogre, so I can't go back there, but then

the ogre comes out here'?
 
Beyond the six month range?
 
Could I have at

him again?"

"Yes.
 
When two folk fight, and one kills the other, he has to be

careful when he leaves that area, because the other may be lurking for

him, to kill him back.
 
Sometimes two enemies leave a whole series of

holes in each other's existences, making things difficult.
 
So as a

general rule, folk try not to kill or be killed, because it's such a

nuisance."

"What about dragons or ogres?"

"That's another matter.
 
They are so dull that they don't worry about

such complications.
 
Dragons don't kill their own, and don't care about

others.
 
If an ogre crunches you once, he'll do it again.
 
It isn't easy

to talk to an ogre; they're too stupid.
 
I think maybe this a bad idea."

"But if we don't talk to him, we can't find out where the dear horn is,"

Forrest said.
 
"Then we won't be able to complete our service to you,

and you won't be able to help us find faun country."

"That is true," she agreed sadly.

Forrest pondered.
 
"It occurs to me that this is like one of the Good

Magician's Challenges.
 
We just have to figure out the way through."

"But we have no guarantee that there is a way through," Imbri said.

"This isn't a carefully crafted test.
 
This is real."

"Still, even real challenges often have solutions." He gazed at the

castle.
 
"Maybe animal psychology will help.
 
What is the basic nature

of ogres?"

"Everyone knows that," Cathryn said.
 
"They are the strongest, ugliest,

and stupidest creatures around."

He nodded.
 
"That's my understanding.
 
I hear they even have contests in

those categories.
 
But I also hear that they're not bad folk, when you

get to know them."

"Who would want to get to know an ogre?" Cathryn inquired.

"We would," Imbri said.
 
"So we can ask him where the dear horn is.

Oh, that's right; I forgot.
 
I don't have much memory at this age."

But Forrest was working on his notion.
 
"Ogres have pride, don't they?

Suppose we challenged him to an ugly contest'?"

"But we couldn't possibly win that," Cathryn said.
 
"None of us is even

remotely uglier than the handsomest ogre."

"So we would lose," Forrest said.

"Yes.
 
Instantly.
 
Then he would crunch us."

But Imbri was catching on.
 
"Would he crunch folk he had just bested,

and who admitted it?
 
Who maybe even praised his superior ugliness?"

Cathryn stared at her.
 
"What a notion!
 
You mean his ogre pride in

victory would make him generous?"

Forrest nodded.
 
"Yes.
 
We could rally make him proud."

Imbri remained doubtful.
 
"But if it doesn't work, we get crunched."

Forrest nodded.
 
"So I guess I'd better go 'n alone."

Both fillies reacted.
 
"We didn't say that," Imbri protested.

"No, we didn't," Cathryn agreed.

"But it's my idea, and there's no sense in having two or three of us get

crunched, when one will do."

The two exchanged a generous glance.
 
"We're not sure this is best,"

Imbri said.

"Consider it this way: if I get crunched, you will still be here to try

it, if you wish to, perhaps with more success.
 
If it works for me, then

I can ask the ogre to let the two of you in.
 
So you don't need to take

the risk either way, unless you decide to."

"I hate to say it," Cathryn said.
 
"But he's making sense."

"Fauns are more sensible than I thought," Imbri agreed.

"And have more courage than I thought."

"Well, we don't just chase nymphs, you know," Forrest said, embarrassed.

"Now, how can I make myself ugly?"

"Why even try?" Imbri asked.
 
"Just challenge him, and lose.
 
He won't

know the difference."

He nodded.
 
"I'll do it." He squared himself, and marched on toward the

castle.

"Wait!" Imbri called.
 
"If you get crunched, where will you

reconstitute?"

He paused.
 
"How far is half a year?"

Cathryn considered.
 
"Back about where we emerged from the comic strip."

"Then I'll t'orm there, just this side ot' it."

"All right," Imbri said.
 
"But be careful, Forrest."

He laughed.
 
"If I was careful, I wouldn't walk into an ogre's den."

He resumed his march.

The castle loomed larger and uglier as he approached it.
 
It was huge

and squat, with dull thatch for the roof, and mildew on the stone walls.

The big front door was well over twice his own height, made of ironwood.

He came to a stop before the door.
 
Entry was a daunting prospect, but

he raised one fist and knocked on the wood iron.

There was no response.
 
So he knocked harder.
 
Still nothing.
 
He

realized that the ogre probably couldn't hear him.
 
For one thing, there

was a constant rumbling or crashing from within the castle, as if

something huge and violent were bashing down walls.

He looked around and saw a big bell.
 
On it was printed the word

WEATHER.
 
Beside it was a solid metal bar.
 
So he picked up the ba.r,

hefted it high, and swung it at the bell-weather.

There was a loud gong, followed by a crack of thunder.
 
A storm cloud

formed over the bell, shooting out bolts of lightning.
 
The lightning

struck the bell, adding to the sound.
 
Then a bucket of rain dropped

from the cloud and doused the bell.
 
The sound faded, and the cloud

evaporated.

There was a rumbling behind the door.
 
Then it jerked violently inward,

so that the suction of the air blew Forrest inside.
 
He stumbled and

caught his footing, helped by his magic sandals.

There stood the ogre: twice the height of a man, hairy, and

disproportionately muscular.
 
"Who you?" the thing demanded.

"I- I'm Forrest Faun.
 
I come to have an ugly contest."

The ogre thought about that.
 
Forrest knew he was thinking, because the

unusual effort was heating his head, and huge fleas were *umping off

lest their feet get burned.
 
Then he decided to introduce himself. "See

me: Orgy."

So far, so good.
 
"I'm uglier than you."

Orgy Ogre stared down at him.
 
"Ugly faun?
 
'Tis to yawn."

"I'll prove it.
 
Do you have a mirror?"

Oi-gy shook his shaggy head.
 
"Mirror lack.
 
Ogre crack."

He meant th;it his I-ace was so ugly that any mirror that reflected it

broke.
 
This was a complication.
 
How could Forrest lose a contest if

they couldn't compare their faces'!
 
But maybe they could do it with

water.
 
"Do you have a pool?"

"Sure, pool.
 
It cool."

"Then let's compare faces in the pool.
 
Then we'll see who is uglier."

Orgy considered, and more fleas jumped off.
 
Then he decided.
 
"Me say

okay." He turned and led the way into the castle.

Forrest followed.
 
He noticed that much of the castle was in ruins. The

walls had been bashed down, and the stones were scattered across the

floor.
 
The ogre simply kicked them out of the way, not even noticing,

though some were pretty solid chunks.

They came to an inner courtyard where water had collected.
 
It was

dirty, but it would do.

Forrest bent lorward so that he could see his reflection.
 
He looked

just exactly like a faun.
 
"Ugly," he said.

Orgy Ogre bent over.
 
The water quivered and shrank away.
 
Orgy

grimaced.
 
The water made waves as it fled to the edges of the pool.

Orgy smiled.
 
The water turned muddy and splashed right out of the pool

on the far side.

"I'm impressed," Forrest said.
 
"I was never able to make water do that.

You are uglier than I am, by far.
 
You must be a legend among your