Demons Don’t Dream (38 page)

"I don't think so," Jenny said, surprised.

Dug decided not to question this further, because his conclusion might turn out to be dangerous to their progress. Possibly he had inadvertently wiggled through a small hole in the game program.

After a time they stopped. Dug opened his eyes. They were on a trail—and two centaurs were bearing down on them at a gallop. What now?

"I see Kim!" Jenny cried. "And Nada!"

Now Dug saw. They were riding the centaurs. He tried to untangle himself from Sherlock, Jenny, and the net, so he could signal them to stop and talk.

Kim was looking one way, Nada the other. Nada saw them; Dug saw the shock of recognition in her eyes. She turned her face away, saying something. The two centaurs galloped faster.

The cat, perhaps concerned about getting trampled, bolted into the brush. The centaurs galloped on past, their hooves throwing up divots of dirt. "Wait!" Dug cried. "I have to talk to you!"

It was too late. The centaurs were already well along the path, and nobody was looking back.

"She's False, all right," Dug said. "She saw us—and made them speed up, so they'd be by before Kim saw us. We'll never catch them now."

"But we know where they're going," Jenny said. "The Good Magician's castle."

"But the cat's tired," Sherlock said. "Going to be hard to catch them now."

Dug looked at him. "Your muteness has worn off! The magic's fading."

"And that means that your ability to diffuse us is about to fade, too," Sherlock said. "Better make us solid while you still can, or we'll be stuck in ghost form."

"Good point!" Dug got to work changing them back to solidity. But he did so with a heavy heart. They were going to have to walk to the Good Magician's castle, and chances were that by the time they got there, Kim and Nada would be gone. And with Nada warned what he was up to, she was likely to betray Kim before he could catch her.

"I'm afraid there's going to be trouble," Dug said heavily. Jenny and Sherlock nodded agreement.

Kim was glad to be traveling so rapidly, after the slow slogging she had done before. But much as she liked horses, and therefore also centaurs, she would be glad when this ride was done. She didn't have the hang of it; she kept bouncing, and her thighs were getting sore. So she was annoyed when the two centaurs accelerated, "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nada saw something, and warned us to get past it swiftly," the centaur replied, turning his head. "It looked like a tangle of bodies."

Kim didn't know what that could have been, but was glad not to have encountered it. Still, she would rather have made the decision herself. Nada was maybe just a little bit pushy, forgetting that Kim was the Player. Maybe it came of being a princess. Kim had agreed to exchange Companions only because Dug had wanted to; she really had preferred Jenny Elf. "Well, I guess we're past it now," she said. "So let's slow down again, okay?"

They slowed, and her thighs took less of a pounding. That was a relief. She was able to focus on her own thoughts again. She was making good progress toward her game objective. But she wished she could have associated longer with Dug, in the foolish hope that maybe, by some ill chance, she might have made a small impression on him. She knew he was probably as shallow as the average boy was at that age, and that she shouldn't take much note of the fact that he was handsome. But there it was. If she saw him again, she would try to arrange to stay together longer. Somehow. For what little it might be worth. Maybe another snowstorm would come, and they'd be jammed together again in a tent. Maybe he'd become aware of her, as Cyrus and Merci had become aware of each other. Maybe they would kiss before they parted.

Meanwhile, it was nice having Bubbles for company. She was holding the dog before her, which was sometimes tricky, because Bubbles weighed more than half as much as Kim. The dog could not have enjoyed the bumping any more than Kim did, but she did not complain. In fact, Bubbles was a very quiet, polite dog, undemonstrative. But Kim was learning to read her little signs, the angle of her half-floppy ears, the curl of her tail, her general manner, and the dog's attitude was coming through with increasing clarity. Bubbles just wanted to be with Kim, and to help her in whatever she was doing. Nothing else. It was straightforward, and easy enough to accept.

At one point a shadow crossed the foliage, moving toward them. In a moment Kim saw a small flying dragon. It cocked its head, eying them. Both centaurs unslung their bows and whipped arrows from their quivers, nocking them and orienting on the dragon in smooth, continuous, synchronous motions. The dragon veered away, losing interest. The two arrows went back into their quivers and the two bows were slung back across the centaurs' shoulders, again together. Nobody much, it seemed, fooled with a pair of male centaurs, even if it wasn't an enchanted path.

Kim wondered whether it was mostly bluff. But later her centaur fetched his bow again, nocked his arrow, and loosed it without pause. It transfixed a small ugly creature resembling a lizard with wings. The other centaur never drew an arrow, being unconcerned.

"But that little thing couldn't have hurt us," Kim protested.

"It is a basilisk," the centaur explained. "It was about to look at us."

Kim felt a chill. A basilisk. A winged lizard whose gaze could kill. One swift arrow had stopped it—and the other centaur had been so confident of his companion's marksmanship that he hadn't bothered to react.

No, there was no bluffing in centaurs. They were simply competent, and secure in that knowledge.

In due course the centaurs slowed. "This is the Good Magician's castle," her mount said. "You will have to undertake three challenges to enter it, after which the Good Magician will speak with you. Decent fortune."

"Thanks," she said as she slid to the ground. Centaurs weren't much for overstatement.

Nada dismounted with a certain princessly flair. Then the centaurs were off, not even resting. They had done their job, and were heading home, taking no note of fatigue.

Kim and Nada and Bubbles stood and gazed at the castle. It had a moat, and there was a water monster in it, but the creature was yawning; it didn't expect them to be so foolish as to try to swim across. The drawbridge was down, so that they could cross that way.

Except that there was a giant plum before the bridge, and the fruit had split apart to reveal its huge pit, and the pit had opened, and in the pit was a small bull. The bull looked aggressive. They could not reach the bridge without crossing through the region of the pit, and the bull made it evident that it was inclined to fold, spindle, or mutilate anyone who tried that.

"That's a bull pit," Kim said, catching on to a possible pun. Then she did a double take. "Or a pit bull. Or maybe a bully pulpit. Or bull pen. Or something. I'm getting myself confused. But that's what we have to get past."

"I can assume large serpent form and hiss it off," Nada suggested.

"I don't think that's fair, when it's a challenge, as it obviously is,"  Kim said. "I have to figure out a way to handle it myself." That was true, but it wasn't the whole story.  Kim didn't want to accept Nada's help on it; she wanted to prevail by herself.

"As you wish," Nada said, shrugging.

Kim looked around. There was always a way, both in the game and in the normal castle challenges. But all she saw was what looked like a big pillbox. It was probably a military one, because on the side was written FIGHT.

Bubbles walked over to sniff the box. She was mildly curious about everything, with her curiosity being satisfied by a sniff. But this did show one thing: the box wasn't dangerous. Kim followed, lifted the lid, and peered in. There were hundreds of pills, bouncing frantically around. What did this mean?

After a moment she realized that the pills were fighting. Each one was trying to bash any other it encountered, perhaps trying to crack it and pulverize it. That must be why the box said FIGHT on the outside: it was full of fighting pills. But how did this relate to what she had to accomplish?

Well, maybe she could find out. She reached in and swooped out a fighting pill.

The thing was a handful! It banged back and forth in her hand, and expanded in size if not in ferocity. It didn't hurt her, because as it grew it became softer. She hung on, first to its body, then to an end, and finally to a corner as it got to be almost as big as the dog. It was no longer a pill, it was a pillow! And it was still fighting, buffeting her arm, the side of the pillbox, and anything else it could reach. What a scrapper! She didn't dare let it go, because then it would surely be whamming her worse.

Something percolated through her mind. Fighting pillow. Fighting pills. Pillow fight. Pill fight.

The familiar light flashed above her head. She could indeed use these pills.

She swooped her free hand into the pillbox and caught as many fighting pills as she could. It was a struggle to hang on to them. She ran across to the pit bull. "Take this!" she cried, throwing the fighting pillow at him. "And this!" She threw the expanding handful of fighting pills.

The big pillow and small pillows attacked the pit bull with enthusiasm. Wham, wham, wham, WHAM! They needed no anchor; they were able to do their whamming without support. The bull, confused, tried to fight back. He managed to gore the big pillow. Feathers started flying out, adding confusion to the scene. But as the large pillow lost its stuffing, the smaller ones grew to size, their buffeting becoming harder as they did. The bull was entirely distracted.

"Let's go!" Kim cried. She and Bubbles and Nada ran across the plum pit region, and the pit bull didn't even notice them. They left the action behind and got on the drawbridge.

And stopped. For there in the middle of the bridge was a stool, and on the stool perched a pigeon. The stool was covered with bird droppings. In fact, it was a bird dropping—an amalgamation of droppings that had mounded into that shape. It stank.

As soon as the pigeon saw them, it flew up above the bridge and dropped another dropping. And another. In fact, droppings fairly rained down around the stool. "Nyaa, nyaa!" it squawked. "I'll bomb you with stools, and your smell will make the castle shut you out. You can't get by me." It dropped another dropping, in the shape of a small stool.

"I can't pass under that dirty bird," Nada said, wrinkling her nose. "It wouldn't be princessly. It thinks it's a harpy." Bubbles, though no princess, seemed no more eager.

"A stool pigeon!" Kim exclaimed, disgusted. She didn't want to get soiled either.

So what was the cleanest way to get past this obnoxious creature? She looked around, but saw nothing but dung on the bridge. She looked out across the moat, but there was only the moat monster, looking on with amusement. She looked back the way they had come, but saw only the pit bull, still fighting pillows. One pillow, instead of whamming the bull, seemed to be trying to press the bull down, without much effect.

A pillow pressing down. A down pillow.

Kim ran back, grabbed the pillow, and zipped away before the bull could round on her. She threw the pillow at the pigeon.

Sure enough, the pillow landed on the bird and held it down on the giant stool. The pigeon couldn't fly up to bomb them. "Yuck!" the stooled pigeon squawked.

They picked their way through the mess and to the far side of the moat. But the end of the bridge was blocked by a pile of melons. One large melon was bossing the others. "Honey, move over here," she said, and the addressed melon moved over, displacing the other melons, which rolled around before settling down. "Honey, get up on the bridge." The other melon rolled up on the bridge.

Kim stood and watched, trying to fathom the pun. Those looked like a particular type of melon—

"Honeydew!" Kim exclaimed. "Telling the others what to do. And they're so busy doing it that we can't get by the pile of them."

Now she knew the problem. But what was the solution?

Kim looked around again, but this time saw nothing to help. In fact, mere was no longer a retreat across the bridge, because the pigeon had succeeded in pecking the down pillow apart, and the down was dropping into the moat. The pit bull had succeeded in goring the remaining pillows, and they too were expiring. So whatever there was that could help, had to be right here.

Bubbles was cautiously sniffing the nearest melons. That didn't necessarily mean anything, but sometimes Kim got notions from watching what the dog did. Could there be anything here for her?

She peered at the constantly shifting pile of melons. They were of different types. Buried almost out of sight was one whose name she couldn't quite remember. But it was suggestive. So she cudgeled her brain and forced it out: cantaloupe. It was a ripe cantaloupe.

And that, perhaps, was her answer. If she could manage to play it right. It was an excruciating pun, but of course she would never have entered this game if she had wanted to avoid that sort of thing.

"Honeydew, there's a cantaloupe in your pile," she said boldly.

The honeydew paused in her stream of directives. "Yes, I know. I'm trying to get rid of it, so I can elope with my honey."

"You think it means can't elope," Kim said. "But it doesn't. It means an incantation of elopement. It's In the Pile, a Cantation of Elope. It's been trying to help you all this time, and you've been refusing to listen."