Faun and Games (4 page)

the elegant curves of that graceful form as she walked.

She came up to him as he stood somewhat bemused by the change. He had

not expected a reality shift of this magnitude.
 
And what was the nymph

doing here.?

"I am Terian," she said.
 
"Kiss me."

"But I'm supposed to kiss a-a mouse," he said.

"I am that one.
 
I am the Mouse Terian.
 
I am older than I look."

"You're the mouse?" He stared at her.
 
"But you're beautiful!"

"Thank you.
 
It has been forty millennia since I have had a compliment

like that.
 
Others have thought me to be primitive or crude."

"Oh, you are neither of those things!
 
You are the loveliest creature I

can imagine."

"Thank you.
 
Now you must kiss me, for I can't kiss you.
 
I don't know

how."

"Like this," he said enthusiastically.
 
He folded her lithe and softly

yielding body in his arms and kissed her firmly on her luscious lips. At

first she was hesitant, but then she got into the feel of it and kissed

him back.
 
What had been a halfway experimental effort became a

full-fledged delight.

After a wonderfully long time he felt obliged to break it off.
 
For one

thing, he had forgotten to breathe.
 
He looked into her deep brown eyes.

"Oh, Terian, that was the greatest kiss I ever had!"

"Thank you." Then she turned and walked back across the glade.

Astonished, he just watched, not knowing what to make of it.

The scene shimmered, and the cave returned.
 
He was staring at the

screen, where the words Thank you were scripted.

"I don't understand," he said.

Mouse Terian could not stay.
 
I can alter reali only so much. Perhaps

some day someone will go out into the field and harvest me a cereal port

so that I can make better se of the mouse.
 
But he did enjoy your kiss.

And so did I He was slowly and uncertainly recovering his grip on

reality. "She-what is she like, really?"

A mouse ran up on top of the wooden frame holding the screen and stood

on its hind feet for a moment, facing him.
 
Here.

So Terian really was a mouse.
 
He truly had kissed a mouse.
 
Transformed

by a temporarily local change of reality, but nevertheless a mouse.

Yet a detail didn't fit.
 
"But she spoke to me!
 
In sound."

I am rather proud of my sound system.
 
As the words appeared on the

screen, they came in sound too.
 
I was the one speaking.

So it could all be explained.
 
It had been crafted from sound and

temporary reality.
 
It hadn't really been a lovely nymph.
 
Still, it had

been impressive.
 
"I think you are getting close to the feeling of

romance, ComPassion," he said sincerely.

Thank you.
 
Wait until I complete my next upgrade.
 
Then more than

kissing will be feasible.

That was somewhat daunting.
 
"Is-is that all?"

Yes, unfortunately, for now.
 
Take the two disks beside me and set one

in each tree.
 
They will alter the trees' reality slightly, so that your

absence will seem like only a day.
 
They will not wither or wilt. But

you must be back within a month, or the effect willfade, and then they

will suffer.

"Thank you," he said gratefully.
 
He picked up the two small wooden

disks and tucked them carefully into his knapsack.

Any time, dear boy.
 
It was a pleasure.

He made his way outside.
 
The fresh air cleared his head of the fumes

from the love spring.
 
He realized that in that ambiance he had wanted

to experience the romance, and that must have helped the effect.
 
What a

woman Terian had seemed to be!
 
Some day she would surely make some male

mouse excruciatingly happy.
 
And once ComPassion was fully compatible,

she might make the notorious Com Pewter happy too.

There was a swirl of smoke before him.
 
Two parts of it descended to the

ground and formed into feet.
 
The rest became a smoky nymph figure.

"This must be the faun," she said.

"Of course it's me, Mentia," he said.
 
"Who else would it be?"

The dark face frowned.
 
"I am not Mentia."

oops.
 
Demonesses could be troublesome when annoyed.
 
"I apologize.
 
I

thought any creature that lovely had to be Mentia."

"Oh you did, did you'?
 
Mentia's crazy.
 
Consider this."

The form shifted and reassembled, becoming so exquisite that it was

difficult to look at her without flinching.

"You're right," Forrest said, shielding his eyes with one hand. "That's

twice as lovely as she was."

"And only half as lovely as I could be, if I cared to make the effort.

Well, come on, faun; I don't have all week."

"Come on?
 
Where?"

"To Humfrey's castle, of course.
 
Where else did you think?"

A dim bulb flickered.
 
"You're Mentia's friend!"

"Hmph.
 
An exaggeration.
 
But yes, I am Demoness Sire, and I did owe her

half a favor.
 
So I'll guide you there.
 
But that's all.
 
No round trip;

that would require a whole favor.
 
And I'm not going to make you

deliriously happy enroute, so forget about that too."

"I wasn't even thinking of it."

She looked disappointed.
 
"You weren't?"

This could be more mischief.
 
"Well, I was trying to suppress the

thought of it, with imperfect success.
 
I am a faun, you know.
 
We're

related to the satyrs.
 
We have similar urges, but more self control."

She considered.
 
"Suppose I looked like this?" She became somewhat more

luscious.

"Please don't, because then I would be thinking of it all the time."

"Suppose I became like this?" The scant clothing on her form shrank,

causing parts of her to bulge dangerously.

"Then I would be so overwhelmed I'd be constantly grabbing for you, just

like a satyr, unable to help myself."

She nodded, satisfied, and sagged into a lesser form.
 
He was learning

how to handle demonesses.

"But first I must see to the trees," he added.
 
"Then I'm all yoursor

would be, if I weren't struggling not to think of it."

D.
 
Sire looked even more satisfied.
 
She drifted beside him as he

wended his way back to his home glade.
 
"Is it true that nymphs & fauns

have very little magic, apart from their longevity, emptyheadedness, and

insatiable urge to pretend to summon fleets of storks?"

"Flocks of storks," he responded shortly.

"Flocks.
 
So it is true, cute-horns?"

"Not exactly.
 
The magic of nymphs is to become phenomenally attractive

to males when they run and bounce, so that any male who spies a running

nymph is compelled to pursue her though he knows he can't catch her. The

magic of fauns is to run fast enough to catch the nymphs, and to make

them desire to celebrate when there is physical contact."

"Fascinating," she said, sounding bored.
 
"Does it work on other

females?"

"Why, I hadn't thought of that.
 
I suppose if they removed their clothes

and ran-"

"I mean the animal magnetism.
 
Do real women get hot when a faun touches

them?"

"Well, we don't chase real women.
 
They know too much, and they aren't

as well shaped.
 
In addition, they often regard fauns as misshapen, and

are repelled.
 
So there's no way of knowing-"

"So they tend to avoid contact.
 
But if it should happen, what then?"

She dropped to the ground and put her arms around him.
 
Her upper

section pressed into his chest in two firm places, and her lower section

pressed his fur in one firmer place.
 
"Is this sufficient contact?" Then

her eyes grew large and dreamy.
 
"Oh, it's true!
 
Suddenly I want to get

much closer to you." The three places increased their pressures.

Forrest struggled to disengage.
 
"You're not a woman, you're a demoness.

If I tried to celebrate with you, you would just dissolve into laughing

gas."

, 'True," she agreed, dissolving into puffs of vapor that spelled out HA

HA.
 
"But nevertheless also true that your touch inspires a certain

lust.
 
So I shall make sure not to tease you from too close."

"Thank you." It had been all he could do to stop from trying what she

had been teasing him to try.

"Unless I change my smoky mind," she said, reforming into something

luscious.

He went to the two trees, and tucked a disk into the lowest cleft of

branches of each.
 
The trees did not seem to change, but he trusted

ComPassion.
 
They should be all right.
 
He fetched a spare pair of

sandals, just in case, and put them in his knapsack.
 
"Now I am ready to

o.
 
Which way'?"

"South.
 
He lives below the Gap Chasm."

"The what?"