Isle Of View (12 page)

“What do you think?” Chex inquired as the sweet dream ended. “Will that horrify Fracto?”

The stallion shook his head. “We have no experience with this sort of thing. You would have to ask the day mares.”

“I don't think so,” she said. “We are dealing with reverse psychology here.”

“Fracto hates being balked,” Grundy said. “And he hates sweetness. It should infuriate him.”

“Let's hope so,” Chex said. “We shall just have to try it. I thank you gourd folk for your effort, even if it does not prove effective.”

The stallion glanced at Mare Nectaris. “Take that dream to Fracto,” he said. “We shall watch its effect.”

Mare Nectaris touched the dream capsule with her nose. It vanished. Then she leaped through the roof of the pavilion and galloped through the air toward the monstrous cloud.

The pavilion faded out. It was light on the surface of the moon, but there seemed to be a spell to make the group of them invisible, so Fracto would not know. Chex was interested to see that moonlight did not bother the night mares, but she realized that this was logical, as they had always gone abroad at night, whether the moon was in sight or hiding.

The mare disappeared into the darkness surrounding the malignant cloud, but Fracto himself remained visible. He was snoozing, which meant he was just right for delivery of the dream. Chex suffered increasing doubts: could this wild notion succeed? A sweet dream to a mean cloud?

Fracto flickered. The dream was starting!

Something flickered at the side. Chex looked, and saw the dream playing on the surface of a hard-cheese rock, as if it were a hypnogourd. She could monitor what Fracto was experiencing. That was nice.

The Princess was meeting the Prince. The weather was nice. Fracto, watching from the vantage of a dark cloud, was trying desperately to get over there and drench their encounter. They would not find each other nearly so attractive if her hair were plastered across her face and his suit was shrinking rapidly out of fit! But Fracto couldn't move; he seemed to be boxed in by adverse winds, unable either to get into the action or to float away from the scene.

When the Princess made her arduous climb up the mountain to the castle, Fracto strove to get above her and dump a bucket of water down her décolletage; that sort of thing really made princesses angry! But his motion was like molasses, and by the time he got there, she was inside the castle. He was so frustrated he hurled a thunderbolt at the castle, but it only bounced off harmlessly. Now, close to the castle, he couldn't get away, and had to listen to the Princess's dumb dialogues with her father and mother. He rumbled in rage, but no one paid attention, which made him madder than ever.

Then the Princess walked to the escarpment. What an opportunity to soak her down! But somehow he was able only to follow, his raindrops pattering harmlessly behind her. The Princess got hot, not wet, and didn't even hear his ominous rumbling.

Then she saw the dragon and warned him away from the ambush. Fracto tried to drown out her cries in thunder, so that her warning would not be heard, but he was frustratingly muted. The dragon heard her, and used his fire to scorch the soldiers, which was a fun scene. But what Fracto really wanted to do was blow the beast out of the sky, and he couldn't. The Princess leaped off the cliff, the dragon caught her, and the two flew away over the horizon, while Fracto followed helplessly. Even when they landed on the isle, he couldn't blow them away, because it was protected by enchantment. He was so frustrated that he was ready to explode.

Then they became two stupid unicorns and lived happily ever after, munching the sweet grass. And he still couldn't touch them: not with a lightning bolt, not with a frigid blast of air, not even with a stinging hailstone. It was too much; Fracto detonated. His vapors spattered across the landscape, and he was nothing but foul mist. Ugh! What an awful dream!

Chex peered into the darkness. All she saw was stars and the lights of houses in Xanth. The evil cloud had dissipated.

“It worked!” she cried. “The dream broke him up!”

“So it was a bad dream,” the Night Stallion said, gratified. “I admit to having been concerned.”

Chex was now well rested by her hours on the moon. “I thank you, stallion and mares,” she said. “Now I must be on my way.” She spread her wings. Night flying wasn't her favorite mode, but she could not afford to lose any more time.

“Many ill returns!” Grundy called as they took off.

The flight was easy enough, because it was mostly gliding. In due course she spied the landing lights of Mount Rushmost, and called out to the fireflies so that she was given clearance. Grundy, knowing that no nonmonsters were allowed here, hid himself in her mane and kept his mouth shut. That was a relief in itself.

It occurred to her, belatedly, that Magician Murphy's curse probably accounted for Che being near the With-a-Cookee River, instead of in the heart of the goblin camp. Whatever could go wrong with the goblin effort, was going wrong. Still, several wrongs did not necessarily make a right. She had to get some positive action!

Soon she was with Cheiron, telling him everything. Then at last she could relax, knowing that he would know what to do. It had been quite a day!

Jenny and Che were tied up but not hobbled, for the goblins didn't want to have to carry them. Their hands were bound and each had a rope around the neck; when one slowed or stumbled, a goblin would jerk cruelly on the rope, hauling them along.

Jenny was soaking muddy wet because of her dunking in the river, and her new spectacles were spattered with dirty drops. But they remained on her face, and they helped her vision enormously. She realized that her feeling was foolish, for she was in horrible trouble, but it gratified her to be able to see things so much better than ever before.

But even in her distress about being captured, she found something odd. These weren't the same goblins as before. Where was Godiva?

“Che,” she murmured as they stumbled through the jungle. “Are—?”

“No, these are not the ones who foal-knapped me,” the centaur replied. “I very much fear these are worse.”

“Worse? Aren't they all just as bad as anything?”

“No. Some tribes are less worse than others. Godiva did not treat me cruelly. In fact she was looking for a more comfortable trail north when you rescued me. These goblins are brutal, and going south.”

“Then where is the other group?”

“I suspect they are hiding. Goblins do not necessarily get along well with one another. Perhaps the others will suffer the same fate as we do, if they are captured.”

“You mean I rescued you and only got you in worse trouble?” she asked, chagrined.

“That would be an unfair assertion. You tried to help me and suffered misfortune.”

“I never realized!” she exclaimed.

The goblin holding her rope jerked it, making her lurch to the side. “No talking in the ranks!” he snapped.

Jenny could only hope that Sammy had found help, and that the help could find her and Che before they got wherever these cruel creatures were taking them.

The goblins soon found a well-beaten trail, and hustled them rapidly along it. It was as if they were a bit out of their territory, and felt insecure. That, coupled with Che's statement that these weren't the ones who had captured him before, made her wonder just what was going on. She knew just about nothing about goblins, but had somehow assumed that they were all the same: elf-sized monsters. Certainly, Godiva's party had seemed evil. If these were worse . . .

Her legs grew tired with the constant walking; she had been on them too much before any of this started. It was also getting dark now. But she had no choice; she had to keep walking, lest she be dragged along by her neck. Che seemed no better off. He had four legs, but more weight.

Finally, late at night, they came to the goblin camp. It was beside a dark lake, with crude earth and rock huts in a semicircle. The goblins pounded a wooden stake into the packed dirt and knotted the ropes that bound Jenny and Che to it. They were tethered.

Now Jenny saw something in the sky. It was huge and greenish white. “What's that?” she asked, amazed.

Che glanced up. “Oh, that's just the moon. It's almost full now.”

“The moon? But it's so big! And where's the other?”

His brow furrowed. “The other what?”

“The other moon! The small one.”

“There is no other moon. This is the only one. It comes out only at night, except when it's biggest and fattest, when it has the courage to show itself at the edge of day. It is made of green cheese, which would spoil if it got heated too much. The sun, in contrast, is afraid of the dark, so never comes out at night. The only other items in the sky are the stars, which are too small to accomplish much, and of course the clouds.”

“I really am on another world,” Jenny breathed, dismayed. She had known it before, but somehow this confirmation made it worse. How would she ever get home again, even if they got away from these horrible goblins?

Meanwhile other goblins were piling brush in a small fire pit. The snoozing coals discovered the food and licked hungrily up through it. Soon there was a ferocious blaze that made the entire camp bright.

“I wish I had been tutored more thoroughly in geography,” Che said, gazing at the great fire.

“Why?” Jenny asked, because this seemed irrelevant.

“Because then I would know exactly what goblin tribe this is, and what its specialty of mischief is.”

“Would that help us escape?”

“Probably not. But at least we would know what to expect.”

Then the goblins hauled a huge black pot to the fire, and set it on a metal grate so that the flames licked up around it. They brought buckets of water and dumped them into the pot. The thing looked big enough to hold an elf girl and a small centaur.

“I think we can guess,” Jenny said, feeling a chill despite the heat of the fire. She wanted to scream and run, but knew that it was pointless, so she just sat there.

“Can you untie yourself?” Che inquired.

Jenny tested the rope that bound her hands behind her. “No. They are good at knots.”

“Perhaps I can untie you,” he said, “if you put your hands where mine can reach them.”

“What good would that do? We are completely surrounded by goblins, and I'm so tired I couldn't run very fast anyway.”

“If I can untie your hands, then you can untie the rope at your neck. Then I can flick you with my tail, and make you light enough to float. Then you can jump and sail away from here.”

Jenny realized that her weight had gradually returned, after he had made her light on the raft. That was one reason she was so tired now: it was the weight. But that lightness had enabled her to walk far faster and farther than she could have managed otherwise. The same must have been true for Che. His magic didn't show to the goblins, but it had saved the two of them from getting cruelly dragged.

Still, she had questions. “What about you? If I could untie me, I could untie you too. But you said you can't fly yet.”

“True. You should be able to grab on to the branch of a tree, and hurl yourself further up and away, escaping them, but I would be unbearably clumsy, and my body would get tangled in the branches, and they would soon catch me again. So I must remain here.”

“But I can't go without you!” she protested. “They'll cook you!”

“Yes, I suspect they will. But at least you will be free. One escape is better than none.”

“But I don't know my way around here,” she said. “I don't even know where Sammy is!”

“Surely he is finding help, and if you remain clear of the goblins long enough, that help will reach you.”

That made sense. Also, she realized that if she got free, she might be able to do something to get him free too. Maybe there was another cherry tree nearby. “Well, we can try. Maybe we can both escape.”

She turned and put her hands back, and he reached down to work on the knot. But in a moment he desisted. “I should have known: it's a magic knot. Only the goblins can untie it.”

After what she had seen here, Jenny didn't doubt it.

Somehow she wasn't all that surprised. The goblins weren't paying any attention to the two captives, which meant they were either pretty stupid or pretty confident. It seemed they weren't stupid.

Now the goblin chief tramped across to them. “Well, well, what have we here?” he asked as if surprised to see them. "A funny little centaur and a funny little elf wench. Har, har, har! Well, I'm Chief Grotesk Goblin, and I want you to know what kind of sport we mean to have with you.”

Jenny couldn't help looking at the huge pot on the fire. “We already know, thank you,” she said tightly.

“Oh, that's not for you two,” the chief said.

Jenny perked up. “It isn't?”

“Not this week. Would you deny us our sport? We must see you bathe first.”

It was true that Jenny was good and dirty now, but somehow she didn't trust this. “I'll wait, thanks.”

“To be sure! Har, har, har!”

Jenny was unable to see what Grotesk thought was so funny, but decided not to inquire. She really didn't like the goblin chief very well.

“I suspect we shall not like their sport,” Che said.

Jenny had already suspected that for herself, but she didn't point that out.

“Fetch the night's entertainment!” Grotesk exclaimed.

The goblins went to a hut, unbarred the door, and brought out two other creatures, who had evidently been taken captive on a prior day. One was a young woman with tight-fitting clothing; the other was a furry man whose feet ended in round boots—no, hoofs. Both were bound, but the goblins touched the knots and they loosened on their own. The two stood substantially taller than the goblins, which suggested that they were close to human size.

“What are those?” Jenny asked.

“They appear to be a dirty nymph and a faun,” Che said, peering at them. “I know such creatures only by description, but the features seem to match.”

“A what and a what? They look like a woman in stretchy brown cloth and a man with shaggy trousers and funny feet.”

“A nymph and a faun,” he repeated. "I believe they are together, and live in happy communities where the fauns chase the nymphs all day. That is all I know, except that neither wears clothing. What you see is his fur and the mud with which she is coated.''

Jenny looked down at her own muddy legs. She understood how it could happen. “I guess the goblins are going to cook them tonight and save us for tomorrow.” She was surprised at her seeming calmness; she knew she would be throwing a fit if she had any choice.

“I fear it will be worse than that.”

“Worse than getting boiled alive?” she asked doubtfully.

“Yes. My dam refused to tell me what goblins do to their captives. That means it is worse.”

Jenny would have shuddered if she hadn't been so tired. She hoped Sammy found help soon.

“Now here's the rule,” Chief Grotesk said to the nymph and faun. “Faun, if you catch her before she reaches the pond, you go free and we cook her. If you don't, she goes free if she wants to, and we cook you. If you don't race, we cook you both. Got that?”

“That's cruel!” Jenny said. “Making them sacrifice each other!”

“They will surely make us do the same tomorrow,” Che said. “I shall be very sorry, for you tried to rescue me and I like you.”

“We've just got to get rescued!” she said. “I know your mother's looking for you. Maybe she'll find you in time.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“So we must make sure you win our contest, because no one will rescue me anyway.”

His head turned to her. “That is very generous of you, Jenny. But since you would not be captive if you had not tried to help me, I feel that you should be the one to—”

“Maybe we'll both be rescued before the goblins get to us,” she said. It seemed better to believe that than to let the dialogue continue.

The action was starting with the others. The goblins released the nymph, and she ran fleetly away. Then they let the faun go, and he took off after her. The nymph screamed fetchingly and ran faster. They seemed equally swift, but the nymph tried to run out of the goblin circle, and the goblins wouldn't let her. She had to dodge back, and when she did, the faun gained on her. She screamed sweetly and ran off.

“Why doesn't she run to the pond?” Jenny asked.

“I am perplexed about that myself,” Che said.

The nymph dodged again, but not toward the pond. She tried to get by the goblins a second time, and was thrown back. She fell, and this time the faun almost caught her. She screamed cutely and scrambled up just in time to avoid him, but he was hot on her heels. She had no choice but to go for the pond.

She did so, with seeming reluctance. She reached the end and leaped in. The faun stopped at the edge, disappointed. He did not touch the water; indeed, he seemed afraid of it. That was odd, considering his likely fate.

“Why don't they both just wade across to the other side?“ Jenny asked. ”There are no goblins guarding it there."

“It is indeed a mystery.”

The nymph, thoroughly doused in the water, stood. Now her body was clean, and Jenny could see that Che had been right: there were no clothes. The nymph was a very pretty figure of a bare girl.

The nymph stared at the faun. Then her lovely face twisted into an unlovely expression. She screamed again, but this time it was not fetching, sweet, or cute; it was hateful. She surged out of the water, chasing the faun.

The faun turned and fled. The goblins laughed uproariously. They obviously found this surprising reversal very funny. It seemed that the nymph was angry with the faun for some reason and had forgotten that she could go free. She just wanted to catch him.

“I don't understand,” Jenny said. “She could have gone on across the pond. Why did she turn back, and why is she so angry?”

“Now I think I understand,” Che said with a shudder. “There are love springs in Xanth; it is reasonable to assume that there can also be hate springs.”

“You mean it—?” But evidently it did. The nymph had been in the water of hate, and now hated the faun so much that she didn't care about anything except hurting him. The two of them must have known this, because they hadn't wanted to go in the water. It was indeed a terrible thing.

The faun ran, but now things were reversed. The goblins would not let him through, and he had to dodge back, and when he did the nymph closed the gap. Her delicate hands were curved into claws and her pretty teeth were bared in an ugly snarl; there was no doubt she intended to hurt him as much as she could. She was ferocious.

Finally the faun ran down to the water and plunged in. Then he too was transformed by hate. He turned on the nymph. In a moment they were fighting savagely, each one trying to drown the other.

Jenny looked away, feeling sick. She was hardly aware when the goblins hustled her and Che into the hut that the nymph and faun had used. She had never imagined that such mean creatures as the goblins could exist.

The hut was dark, except for a bit of light from the distant fire leaking in around the edges of the door and a thin shaft of moonlight from a round vent at the top. In a moment Jenny's eyes adjusted, and she could see well enough. The hut was empty except for them; there was no furniture, just the packed earth floor, which smelled of urine and worse.