Night Mare (20 page)

“But obviously you know it now!” the Queen protested.

“I was able to penetrate it when he went to Mundania,” Humfrey said smugly. “That temporarily nullified his power. I knew he had magic all along; I simply had not known its nature. But even after I ascertained this, I couldn’t tell anyone. Until now, when he is away again—and must be recognized as the legitimate heir to the throne of Xanth.”

“He shall be recognized,” Queen Iris said grimly. “But how can there be five more Kings after him if he is to break the chain of Kings?”

“That detail is unclear to me,” the Good Magician confessed. “Yet my references suggest it is so.”

“How can there be five more Kings when there are no more Magicians in Xanth?” the Queen persisted.

“There is one more—Magician Arnolde,” Humfrey said.

“But he’s a centaur!”

“Still a Magician.”

“But his magic operates only beyond Xanth. Inside Xanth he has no power!”

“The law of Xanth does not specify what type of magic a Magician must have or where it should operate,” Humfrey reminded her. “After Bink, Arnolde will be King.”

“And after Arnolde?”

Humfrey spread his hands. “I would like to know that myself, but my references were opaque. If the full chain of future Kings were known, our hidden enemy might nullify them in advance; paradox preserves the secret.”

Queen Iris shrugged. She evidently suspected Humfrey was getting senile, but didn’t want to say it. “What can I do to help save Xanth, your Majesty?”

“Bide your time, woman. Acclaim each King as he comes. When the chain is broken, you will have your reward. The single thing you most desire.”

“I’ve been biding my time while three Kings have been lost!” she exclaimed. Then, as an afterthought: “What single thing?”

“You don’t know?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

“I don’t remember. Whatever it is, you’ll get it. Maybe before the chain breaks. Meanwhile, these are difficult times.” Humfrey yawned. “Now let me sleep; later in the day I must bait my trap.” He sighed. “Too bad it won’t be effective.” He reached into his bag again, brought out a small, folded wallet, and unfolded it lengthwise and breadthwise again and again, until it became a small folding cot. He lay down on this and commenced snoring.

Queen Iris shook her head. “Difficult times indeed!” she repeated. “They don’t make Kings the way they used to. Humfrey always was the most annoying man.”

There was a noise outside as the sun came up. Queen Iris walked to the largest window and opened it. The magic carpet sailed in and landed neatly on the floor. Chameleon was on it, slightly less pretty than before. “I just had to come,” she said apologetically. “My husband is due home from Mundania tonight, and I have to be here to meet him.”

Queen Iris greeted her with open arms. Imbri noted that human women did a lot more hugging than did other creatures. “My dear, I have a lot to tell you, not much of it good.” They moved into another room.

Imbri went down and out to the deserted zombie graveyard to graze and sleep on her feet. The best grazing was always around graves. She knew Magician King Humfrey would summon her when he needed her.

At noon Good King Humfrey summoned her back to the castle. “Carry me to the baobab tree,” he said. “I shall set my trap there.”

The baobab! That was where she had gone to meet the day horse! Would he be there today?

Chameleon appeared. “Your Majesty—may I go now to meet my husband? I want to be sure he does not blunder into the Mundanes, who are between him and here.”

“He’s due in the isthmus tonight,” Humfrey said. Now that he was King, he did not seem at all vague or confused, though he remained stooped by age. “Imbri will fetch him then, when she can travel swiftly and safely.”

“But I want to go with her,” Chameleon said. “I’ve lost my King, my son, and my friend the Zombie Master, I must see to my husband myself.”

Humfrey considered. “Perhaps this is wise. The Night Stallion believes you are important in coming events. There will be much to prepare Bink for, in the short time remaining to him. But you will need another steed. Arnolde will be with him, but the centaur will be tired; he is almost as old as I am, you know.”

Imbri, of course, was older than either. But night mares were eternal. “The day horse!” she sent. “He helped before. He meets me at the baobab tree. He can be the second steed.”

Humfrey’s brow wrinkled even more than normal. “The day horse? I have not researched that one. Is he magic?”

“No, he’s an escaped Mundane horse,” Chameleon explained. “He is very nice. He would be an excellent companion.”

The Magician shrugged. “As you wish.” He loaded himself and his bag of tricks onto Imbri and spelled the works into place.

“We’ll be back for you tonight!” Imbri sent in a dreamlet to Chameleon. Then she headed off, carefully using the doors and stairs, since this was solid day.

She trotted out to the baobab. She did not see the day horse-but of course he would hide from the Magician, being very shy of strangers. “Day horse!” Imbri sent. “It is all right! This is Good Magician King Humfrey.”

The day horse came out from behind the upside-down tree. “He’s not Mundane?” he asked within the dreamlet.

“Far from it! He’s a great Magician. He knows everything.”

The day horse stepped back, alarmed.

“Not everything,” Humfrey grumped. “Only what I choose to research—and I haven’t researched Mundane horses and don’t have time now. Come on—we have to set up my spells.”

The day horse hesitantly followed them inside. Humfrey spelled himself free of Imbri’s back, then began setting out his devices. Bottles and vials and packages and books emerged from his bag in bewildering number and variety, until the volume of them was obviously more than the bag could have enclosed. Naturally the Magician used a magic bag that held an impossible amount.

“What are these things for?” Imbri asked in a dreamlet, her equine curiosity getting the better of her. She wasn’t sure the Magician would deign to answer.

“It’s best that you know,” he said, surprising her. “First, I need to keep informed of the progress of the Nextwavers. Therefore I shall release these Spy I’s.” He opened a metallic container by rolling up its top on a kind of key. This seemed like an absolutely senseless way to package anything, but of course the Good Magician had his own ways of doing things. Inside were packed a score of white eyeballs. He shook the can, and several popped out and hovered in the air uncertainly.

“Go peek at the Gap Chasm,” he directed them. “Snoop on the Mundanes. Set up a regular schedule of reports.”

The balls flew off in a line. “Eye Spy!” they whistled as they departed.

Now Humfrey brought out a bundle of paper-thin doll cutouts. “I must also lure them to this spot so as not to endanger Castle Roogna,” he said. He untied the string binding the cutouts, and the first ones began peeling off. As they did, they expanded and filled out. Hair unstuck itself and billowed about the head-sections; breasts popped forward from the upper torso-frames, and legs rounded from the lower portions. The dolls became floating, air-filled nymphs, lovely in the manner of their kind, but fundamentally empty. They hovered, bounced, and jiggled expectantly.

“Follow the Spy I’s,” Humfrey directed them. “Put on your airs on the return trip, staying just ahead of those who pursue you. Any of you who get caught are apt to get punctured.” He smiled obscurely.

Silently the nymph shapes flew away.

“But if the Mundanes come here, they’ll attack you!” Imbri sent protestingly.

“Naturally,” Humfrey agreed. “And I shall destroy them with my remaining spells.” He seemed to have forgotten his earlier remark about his plans being doomed to failure. He reached in the bag again and drew forth a wet-looking loop of substance. “Now pay attention, mare, in case I need your help, though obviously I won’t need it.” He held up the loop. “This is the River Elba, conveniently coiled.” He hung it on his right arm, demonstrating its convenience. “It says ‘Able was I ere I saw elbow,’ close enough. If you untie the cord binding it, Elba will be unbound and will flood out the region. Do not free the river unless you have the enemy in a floodable region.”

The day horse snorted. Humfrey’s nose wrinkled. “You doubt me, horse? Note this.” He took hold of a single strand of the loop and broke it where it passed under the binding cord. This enabled him to separate the strand from the main loop. He tossed it at the day horse.

The loop-strand expanded in midair, becoming a torrent of water. The day horse was soaked. The water splashed down his legs to his hooves and flowed on out of the baobab tree, tapering off as its volume diminished. It was indeed part of a fairly substantial river.

“Well, you did snort!” Imbri sent mirthfully. The day horse shook himself, not particularly pleased. He did not snort again.

Humfrey brought out a box. Lettering across the top spelled PANDORA. “My secret weapon, more potent than any other. Pandora was a charming girl who really didn’t want to give this up,” he said, smiling with an ancient memory. “But I knew she’d open it if I didn’t get it out of her hands.” He set the box down.

Imbri wondered what the Good Magician’s relationship with Pandora had been, and what bad happened to the girl. Probably she had died of old age long ago. What was in that box? Imbri experienced an intense female curiosity, but decided not to inquire. She would surely find out in due course.

“Box of quarterpedes,” the Magician said, setting out another item.

“Quarterpedes?” Imbri sent inquiringly.

“Very rare cousins of the nickelpedes,” Humfrey explained. “They are five times as bad. They gouge out two bits at a time.”

Imbri had no further curiosity about that. Nickelpedes were ferocious little creatures, five times as fierce as centipedes. Anything worse than that was too dangerous to loose upon Xanth. It was a doomsday weapon.

“Dirty looks,” Humfrey said, setting out a biliously swirling bottle. “Jumping beans. Enormous squash.” Other items appeared.

“Isn’t a squash something to eat?” the day horse ventured within the dream Imbri maintained for him on standby.

“This one is to your Mundane vegetables as a hypnogourd is to a pumpkin,” the Good Magician said with a certain relish. “Which is not to say that the pumpkin does not have its place. I remember a pumpkin carriage a young woman used—or was that a glass slipper? At any rate, this particular vegetable is not edible. It likes to squash things.”

The day horse twitched his white ears, obviously impressed.

“Now here is the higher power armament,” Humfrey said, bringing out a small book. “Herein are listed selected Words of Power. Anyone can use them to excellent effect. Of course, it is necessary to pronounce them correctly.” He continued setting out items, humming to himself.

“What do you think?” Imbri asked the day horse in the dream. “Can Magician Humfrey stop the Mundanes?”

“Yes,” the animal answered, awed.

“Can he stop the Horseman?” she persisted, though she was not yet clear what threat the Horseman represented, aside from his position as second in command to Hasbinbad.

The day horse backed up a few steps, skitterishly. “No, I don’t think so.”

“But the Horseman can’t put spurs to the Good Magician!”

“Stay clear of the Horseman!” the day horse insisted, breathing harder.

Obviously some element of this puzzle was missing. Imbri had glimpsed only a part of the Good Magician’s array of spells, but was satisfied that they could quickly ruin an army. Humfrey, like the preceding Kings, was stronger than anticipated. Yet the day horse thought the Horseman could prevail.

The first Spy I returned. “What have you glimpsed?” Humfrey asked it.

The seeing eyeball hovered before a wall. It projected a beam of light. Where the light struck the wall, a magic picture appeared. It showed the Mundanes using ropes to lower themselves down the wall of the Chasm. Some men were already down; these were using drawn swords and spears to fend off the Gap Dragon. A number of them were lying in blood on the ground of the Chasm floor, but the dragon was suffering, too. Some of its scales were missing, and it was limping. As more Mundanes joined the first ones, the dragon would suffer more.

Humfrey, Imbri, and the day horse watched, fascinated, as the procession of Spy I balls constantly updated the newsreel report. The tough Mundanes drove the Gap Dragon back until at last the poor thing turned a battered tail and fled. Imbri had known of the activities of the Gap Dragon and its predecessors for all her life; it was a merciless monster who destroyed all those creatures misfortunate enough to blunder into the Chasm. But now she felt sorry for the monster. The Mundanes were worse.

As the afternoon declined, the Mundanes crossed the bottom of the Chasm and set their ropes for climbing the south wall. A few zombies remained to guard the Chasm; they flung down the ropes, preventing any anchorage from being achieved. Mundane archers ranged along the north side to shoot arrows at the zombies. These scored, but of course did not have any significant effect. But the arrows trailed cords that dangled down into the Chasm. The Wavers below grabbed the ends and yanked the zombies down. Then they chopped the zombies into pieces too small to continue fighting. The Punics had certainly gotten over their initial horror of the un-dead!

Now the Mundanes flung anchors up and, when the ropes were firmly caught, hauled themselves up hand over hand. The process was time-consuming but inevitable. By nightfall the entire Punic army, as much as remained of it, would be on the south bank of the Gap. Xanth’s greatest natural barrier had been conquered by the enemy.

Humfrey made a note. “Two hundred and five surviving Mundanes,” he said. “A number of those are wounded. No horses or elephants. More than enough to swamp Castle Roogna. But my bag of tricks can accommodate them. The problem will be the other band of Nextwavers who remain in northern Xanth—the reserves. We have no such reserves.”

“The other band remains north?’ Imbri asked. She had been afraid they were circling south.

“You did not suppose that six hundred troops could dwindle to two hundred merely by marching down the length of Xanth?” the Magician inquired curtly, missing the point. “Hasbinbad wisely divided his forces. The Horseman commands the reserve contingent, though he seems to have delegated the routine to a lieutenant. That is the force we must fear, for it is whole and fresh, while our defense has been decimated. They have been using their horses to carry messengers back and forth, so the second force knows what happens to the first, and where and of what nature the hazards of Xanth are. These are experienced troops, tough and cunning.”