Luck of the Draw (Xanth) (34 page)

They entered the house. The floorboards creaked alarmingly.

“The shortcut is an immediate turn to the left,” Bryce said. “Through the original maid’s quarters.”

They turned left. A ghost loomed up before them, a bright white sheet with black eye-holes. That might be the original maid.

“BOO!!” Bryce shouted with doubled exclamation point.

Original Ghost Maid was so surprised she zoomed upward and right through the ceiling, leaving only a cloth dropping to the floor. The cloth was ghostly but peculiarly fascinating.

“You beast,” Mindy said. “You scared her right out of her panties.” She stooped to pick them up. They were filmy to the point of nonexistence, but nevertheless intriguing. Bryce had never quite fathomed panty magic, but certainly it worked. “We’re sorry,” she called. “He’s from Mundania. He doesn’t know proper protocol.”

The ghost floated back down through the ceiling. She took the panties from Mindy’s lifted hand, her white sheet blushing faintly pink. She faded away.

“Now are you going to stop freaking out the staff?” Mindy asked, suppressing the ghost of a smile. “They’re only trying to do their job.”

“This way.” He proceeded through the maid’s quarters and out a side door. A short walk led to the graveyard in the back.

There was a walking skeleton, evidently on sentry duty. It looked male, because it was missing a rib. Bryce walked up to him. “Picka Bone sent me.”

“Who?” the skeleton asked, startled.

“The son of Marrow Bones and Grace’l Ossein,” Mindy said.

The skeleton’s skull illuminated. “We know them,” he said. “How are they doing in the mortal world?”

“We’ll tell you all about them,” Bryce said. “While you are guiding us to the Night Stallion.”

The skeleton considered. “We can’t make a deal until we know each other. Who are you?”

“I am Bryce, and this is Mindy. We’re from Mundania.”

“I am White Skeleton. Red Skeleton is my cousin.”

“He was a fine humorous fellow,” Bryce said, impressed.

“You knew him in Mundania?” Mindy asked.

“Knew
of
him, or his non-pun analog.”

“This way.” White led the way out of the graveyard and through another setting where a camera crew was recording a bad dream. A pack of werewolves was chasing a terrified nymph into a treacherous bog. “Eeee!” she cried. Bryce noticed how her bare nymphly parts bobbed and jiggled enticingly as she ran. Being physically young again was a nuisance when he was trying to get something done; he was too readily distracted.

“Halt,” the director said, disgusted. “The term is ‘Eeeee!’ Five E’s, not four. Now try it again.”

They ran it again. The nymph was just as enticing the second time, and breathing harder. “Eeeeee!”

“Halt! Five E’s, not six. Try to get it right this time.”

“Nymphs are stupid,” White muttered as they moved on. “They can’t count beyond their chest.”

“Chest?” Bryce asked.

“Two,” Mindy snapped.

Oh. Maybe that was one reason they ran bare. With clothing they would be limited to counting to one. Not that intelligence was the point of a nymph.

While they walked, Mindy filled in the illustrious history of Marrow and Grace’l Bones in mortal Xanth. It was quite a story. Bryce had not realized that Picka Bone derived from such a remarkable lineage. No wonder Princess Dawn had courted him.

Meanwhile White Skeleton was leading them into an abysmal swamp that was surely fraught with all manner of horrors. Bryce saw bubbling pools of green goo, and tree trunks with huge gnarly eyes, and floating wisps of discolored mists that looked corrosive or poisonous. This would not be a good place to get lost in. The path was so devious that it would be a chore just to locate it for a retreat.

They came to an elegant stall standing on a firm islandlike mound. Within it stood a magnificent dark horse who wasn’t exactly black. “That will do, White,” the horse said. “I will take it from here.” Then as the skeleton respectfully backed off, the horse oriented on the two of them. He looked surprised by Mindy. “What are you doing here—”

“Mindy,” Mindy said quickly. “A servant employed at Caprice Castle. And this is Bryce Mundane. He is a Suitor for the Princess Harmony in a Quest arranged by the Demons.”

“I see,” the horse said, as if reconsidering. Bryce suspected that he was not ordinarily very tolerant of intruders in his realm, but that the mention of the Demon Quest set him back. He turned to Bryce. “I am the Night Stallion, otherwise known as Trojan, the Dark Horse, or the Horse of a Different Color. I run the Realm of Dreams. What is your business here?”

“One moment,” Bryce said.

Mindy sent him a warning glance. “You don’t make the Night Stallion wait,” she murmured.

“Why not? He’s making us wait.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This isn’t the Night Stallion,” Bryce said. “This is a fake, set up to distract us from our mission.”

“How can you say that? He looks perfectly real to me.” She glanced at the horse, who was standing perfectly still, as was the skeleton. It was like a cartoon where the only animated characters were the ones who were speaking at the moment.

“Appearances are easy to come by in the dream realm, since everything here is imaginary,” Bryce said. “It’s a mistake to judge solely by looks.”

“But what else is there?”

“His actions.”

“But all he did was introduce himself and ask your business.”

“Precisely. The real Stallion surely knows the dreams of every mortal person, and therefore our business here. He wouldn’t need to ask.”

“That’s right,” she agreed thoughtfully. “But why would he let the skeleton lead us into a nasty swamp?”

“Because while he knows everything that goes on in the dream realm, it surely keeps him quite busy. He can’t afford to have every Tom, Dick, and Harry wandering in and taking his time with inconsequentials. So he diverts them harmlessly, and most never know the difference. But our business is serious. We can’t afford to be put off by the standard diversion. We need the Stallion’s personal attention.”

Mindy nodded. “We do. But if we can’t trust the skeleton to lead us to the Stallion, what can we do? We’ll never find him in the infinite reaches of the dream realm.”

“I suspect he has been tracking us fairly closely,” Bryce said. “Because he evidently recognized you as a person of importance.”

“Me?”

“The fake did a double-take when he looked directly at you. He must have been advised. Maybe there’s a Demon aura about our mission. So the Stallion knows who we are, but doesn’t care to shortcut regular policy, which would be a bad precedent. Demon mission or not, we could still be wasting his time. We need to spot him ourselves.”

“How can we do that?”

“By common sense.” Bryce turned to White Skeleton. “Hello, Trojan.”

The skeleton became the horse. “You are one dangerously smart Mundane.”

“No, I’ve just been around the bend a few times.”

“Indeed.” The horse’s mouth curved with a trace of amusement. “I do know what’s going on in the dream realm. But your concern stems from the mortal realm, not the dream realm. It will be more efficient if you simply state it now.”

“Gladly,” Bryce agreed. “The Demons seem to have put certain obstacles in our way as we seek certain objects. We have to handle them before we can move on. In this case, the village of Kiss Mee has been suffering an unfriendly situation, wherein a young man may be dreaming up odd ways for folk he dislikes to die. I thought I should check with you, because if my conjecture is correct, this is an abusive misuse of dreams.”

“Who?”

“His name is Brant. He sleeps a lot, and is never close when a person dies. Maybe his talent is to make a dream come true, once he dreams it.”

Trojan flickered in the manner the demon Pose had when zipping momentarily elsewhere. “I have verified it. His power is the Deathwish. You are correct: when he dreams up a death, he can then make it happen. It is limited to dreaming; he can’t simply wish a person dead. This is indeed an abuse. What do you recommend that I do?”

“I would not presume to tell you what to do in your own realm.”

The equine mouth formed a tolerant smile. “You have a certain diplomatic touch, doubtless acquired in the course of your many years of experience in drear Mundania. I have now picked up on the Demon contest. The Suitors must figure out the answers themselves. So you need to make a feasible suggestion.”

Just so. “I think the simplest way to deal with it is to cut off Brant’s dreams. That way he will not be able to make them come true. Do you have the power to withhold bad dreams as well as to make them?”

“I do,” Trojan said. “So be it.” He glanced at Mindy. “I believe the princess has chosen well.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Mindy said. “Bryce still must win the last Object, and there is a prediction that he will not succeed.”

“That failure would eliminate him as a Suitor?”

“We understand that the princess will choose the man who brings her the best gift,” Bryce explained. “If I don’t win the Object I won’t have a gift to proffer.”

“She may indeed choose,” the Dark Horse agreed. “But she’s a sly one. She might seek to change the rules.”

“Even when Demons make the rules?” Mindy asked.

“Rules are subject to interpretation.” The Horse shrugged, throwing off iridescent colors. “All the current generation of princesses are headstrong and naughty, some amazingly so. Princess Eve married the lesser Demon Pluto and is making his existence wax hot and cold despite his power. Princess Rhythm did serious damage to the Adult Conspiracy. There are still dreams relating to that mischief.” He shook his head. “Princess Harmony is the smartest and most strongly motivated. That makes her devious. Even Demons may discover that.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Mindy said.

“Naturally not,” the Horse agreed, amused.

Trojan evidently had some private joke. Maybe it was because his control of dreams led him to secrets others could not share. Yet he judged Harmony as the smartest of her generation of princesses? He thought she was devious? She had not struck Bryce that way during their interview. She had seemed like a nice girl despite her royalty. Still, it was curious that the Demons had selected her as the center of their contest. Did they see in her something Bryce had missed?

But his mind was wandering. “Thank you, Trojan Horse,” he said. “This will enable me to at least try for my Object.”

“There is one other thing. I have cut off all future dreams, but he has one remaining from before. Dragons catch a girl and tear her apart.”

Mindy shuddered. “Poor girl!”

“We’ll be sure to stay well clear of dragons,” Bryce said.

“Pleasant awakening,” the Night Stallion said.

Then they were back in the room, facing each other across the table. Their eye contact with their gourds had been broken, though the villager assigned to do this had not yet appeared. The Stallion had done it, showing his power in a minor way.

“Now let’s go see the Mare again,” Mindy said briskly.

They did, then returned to the room for the night. “Trojan seemed amused,” Bryce said. “And I question his judgment of the Princess Harmony.”

“Don’t. He surely has her pegged.”

“But he was calling her devious. She seemed straightforward to me.”

Mindy smiled. “Your experience with women may be limited.”

“I’m eighty years old!” Then he laughed. “But yes, it is limited. Let’s leave it at that.”

A village girl arrived with a basket of food. “Oh—you’re off the gourd,” she said.

“Yes, a while ago,” Mindy said. “But thanks for coming, just to be safe.”

The girl set out the food and drink. It was a nice meal for two. Then she departed.

They ate, then took turns washing at the basin in the corner. Bryce did not look while Mindy was washing, though he suspected she would not have minded if he did. This was not entirely politeness; he feared the sight of her body would turn him on. Pajamas and a nightie were laid out, so they donned them.

They lay on the bed, Bryce on the left side, Mindy on the right. She extinguished the candle by her side.

“You know,” she murmured in the darkness, “no one would see if you moved across to my side.”

“But two people would know,” he said, not pretending to misunderstand.

“This is Kiss Mee. Everybody here does it, and they don’t stop at kisses. They expect it. That’s why there’s only one bed.”

She was surely correct. But it didn’t change his position. He was not about to take something merely because it was available, however infernally tempting it might be. “We have been through this before.”

She sighed. “We have.”

He feared she was crying. “Mindy, even if I weren’t in love with the princess, I still would not be making moves on you. You’re almost as young as she is.”

“And you won’t touch anyone that young, however willing, even if no one else knows.”

“Correct.” He wasn’t sure she would ever really understand. She did not have his extra three-score years of sometimes bitter experience.

She buried her face in the pillow. After a time her muffled sobbing ceased and she breathed evenly in sleep.

Only then could Bryce relax. He knew he was doing the right thing. Why, then, did he feel so guilty?

In the morning they found breakfast already laid out for them; evidently the girl had come and left it without waking them. What had the girl thought about their slumber on the bed? Did it matter?

Soon they resumed their traveling, riding their trikes on out of town. The people ignored them, going about their routine business. Evidently the Mare had not talked about their business here.

Except for one person. This was a young man who stared silently at them as they went by, as if suspecting something.

“Oh, bleep,” Mindy said when they were alone. “I wonder if that was Brant?”

“What if it was? He’s harmless now, as he must have discovered last night.”

“Except for one horrible dream.”

That gave Bryce a chill. “We’d better be prepared to fight off dragons.”

“What if they’re at the Gap Chasm, where we have to go?”