Faun And Games Part 13

Cathryn Centaur glanced at the sky. "I'll throw a blanket of fog," she said, raising her hands.

"You can make another kind of blanket?" Forrest asked, surprised. "Not just security?"

"Yes. My talent is blankets, not just one kind. But I'm only about eight years old now, and it won't be very big." From her hands poured patches of mist, which spread out and sank around them. Unfortunately it sank too low, so that their heads poked out, and the dragons spied them. "This is the best I can do," Cathryn said. "We'll have to duck down in order to hide in it."

They ducked down. The blanket of fog closed over their heads, concealing them from the air. Unfortunately it also made it hard for them to see their way.

Then there was a great thudding sound. "An ogre!" Cathryn whispered, frightened. Forrest realized that as a child she was much more fearful of monsters than she would have been as an adult.

He poked his head cautiously up through the top of the cloud blanket and peeked at the sky. The dragons were circling, looking for their prey.

They were smaller than he remembered, but he realized that this was because they were now younger. As the ogre approached, huge and awful, the dragons peered down at him.

"Stay here no, dragons go!" the ogre cried, shaking one hamfist. But the dragons knew he couldn't reach them. They were young and foolish. One of them flew over the ogre and dropped a ball of dung. It splatted close, and some of it flew out to speckle the ogre's hairy hide.

The ogre growled. It wasn't that dirt bothered him, but he was not old enough not to know he was being insulted. Ogres were quite stupid justifiably proud of their stupidity, but there were limits. He stooped, picked up a rock, and hurled it at the dragon. The dragon tried to swerve, but the rock clipped it on the tail, knocking it upside down.

The dragon gyrated desperately to prevent itself from falling to the ground, then flew quickly away. In a moment the other dragons followed, they didn't care to tangle with an ogre in ogre territory.

Satisfied, the ogre tramped on. He was evidently the border guard. It was just as well, because the cloud blanket was thinning. Soon they would have been exposed, and the ogre wasn't a much better bet than the dragons, as far as their safety went. Cathryn could have spread her wings and flown away, of course, but she was too courteous to do that.

Cathryn stood and recalled her blanket. The wisps of cloud funneled into her hands, and the ground was clear again.

Imbri resumed her determined trek. "It is getting close," she said.

"That's good," Cathryn said, because as they walked she was looking more like seven than eight. It was clear that she would be unable to go beyond her limit.

They crested a hill, and looked down on an enormous castle. It had no moat, and evidently didn't need one, because the bashed and splintered state of the trees around it showed it to be the home of an ogre.

What else, here in ogre country?

"It's in there," Imbri said. "The one who knows where the dear horn is."

"I don't think there's anything in there but the ogre," Cathryn said. "I don't think it's a good idea to go in."

" But if he's the one who knows, we'll have to ask him," Forrest said.

"Ogres eat other folk, and crunch their bones," Cathryn reminded him, s.h.i.+vering. As a child she lacked courage.

"But that's temporary, here, isn't it?" Imbri asked. "Because all folk are just spirits, so can't be truly killed or destroyed?"

"Yes. But it's awful getting crunched. It hurts. And if he crunches you, you'll be gone from that region. You can never return to where you died, any more than you can go beyond your regions of delivery or ending."

"You mean folk can die here?" Forrest asked, alarmed.

"Not exactly. We can die, but it is limited."

"How can death be limited?"

"Limited to the region where the death occurs. That means that though a person reconst.i.tutes, he can never return to that spot, or ever come close to it. The limit is about six months on a side, From and To, and equivalent distances north and south."

Both Forrest and Imbri were perplexed. "But why can't a person just go there anyway?" Imbri asked.

"He just can't. It no longer exists for him. He can see the limit, but can't cross it."

"You mean it exists, only he can't go there?" Forrest asked. "Others can go, but not the one who died there?"

"Yes."

They pondered that a moment. Then Forrest had another question: "Suppose I get killed by the ogre, so I can't go back there, but then the ogre comes out here'? Beyond the six month range? Could I have at him again?"

"Yes. When two folk fight, and one kills the other, he has to be careful when he leaves that area, because the other may be lurking for him, to kill him back. Sometimes two enemies leave a whole series of holes in each other's existences, making things difficult. So as a general rule, folk try not to kill or be killed, because it's such a nuisance."

"What about dragons or ogres?"

"That's another matter. They are so dull that they don't worry about such complications. Dragons don't kill their own, and don't care about others. If an ogre crunches you once, he'll do it again. It isn't easy to talk to an ogre; they're too stupid. I think maybe this a bad idea."

"But if we don't talk to him, we can't find out where the dear horn is," Forrest said. "Then we won't be able to complete our service to you, and you won't be able to help us find faun country."

"That is true," she agreed sadly.

Forrest pondered. "It occurs to me that this is like one of the Good Magician's Challenges. We just have to figure out the way through."

"But we have no guarantee that there is a way through," Imbri said.

"This isn't a carefully crafted test. This is real."

"Still, even real challenges often have solutions." He gazed at the castle. "Maybe animal psychology will help. What is the basic nature of ogres?"

"Everyone knows that," Cathryn said. "They are the strongest, ugliest, and stupidest creatures around."

He nodded. "That's my understanding. I hear they even have contests in those categories. But I also hear that they're not bad folk, when you get to know them."

"Who would want to get to know an ogre?" Cathryn inquired.

"We would," Imbri said. "So we can ask him where the dear horn is.

Oh, that's right; I forgot. I don't have much memory at this age."

But Forrest was working on his notion. "Ogres have pride, don't they?

Suppose we challenged him to an ugly contest'?"

"But we couldn't possibly win that," Cathryn said. "None of us is even remotely uglier than the handsomest ogre."

"So we would lose," Forrest said.

"Yes. Instantly. Then he would crunch us."

But Imbri was catching on. "Would he crunch folk he had just bested, and who admitted it? Who maybe even praised his superior ugliness?"

Cathryn stared at her. "What a notion! You mean his ogre pride in victory would make him generous?"

Forrest nodded. "Yes. We could rally make him proud."

Imbri remained doubtful. "But if it doesn't work, we get crunched."

Forrest nodded. "So I guess I'd better go in alone."

Both fillies reacted. "We didn't say that," Imbri protested.

"No, we didn't," Cathryn agreed.

"But it's my idea, and there's no sense in having two or three of us get crunched, when one will do."

The two exchanged a generous glance. "We're not sure this is best," Imbri said.

"Consider it this way: if I get crunched, you will still be here to try it, if you wish to, perhaps with more success. If it works for me, then I can ask the ogre to let the two of you in. So you don't need to take the risk either way, unless you decide to."

"I hate to say it," Cathryn said. "But he's making sense."

"Fauns are more sensible than I thought," Imbri agreed.

"And have more courage than I thought."

"Well, we don't just chase nymphs, you know," Forrest said, embarra.s.sed.

"Now, how can I make myself ugly?"

"Why even try?" Imbri asked. "Just challenge him, and lose. He won't know the difference."

He nodded. "I'll do it." He squared himself, and marched on toward the castle.

"Wait!" Imbri called. "If you get crunched, where will you reconst.i.tute?"

He paused. "How far is half a year?"

Cathryn considered. "Back about where we emerged from the comic strip."

"Then I'll form there, just this side of it."

"All right," Imbri said. "But be careful, Forrest."

He laughed. "If I was careful, I wouldn't walk into an ogre's den."

He resumed his march.

The castle loomed larger and uglier as he approached it. It was huge and squat, with dull thatch for the roof, and mildew on the stone walls.

The big front door was well over twice his own height, made of ironwood.

He came to a stop before the door. Entry was a daunting prospect, but he raised one fist and knocked on the wood iron.

There was no response. So he knocked harder. Still nothing. He realized that the ogre probably couldn't hear him. For one thing, there was a constant rumbling or cras.h.i.+ng from within the castle, as if something huge and violent were bas.h.i.+ng down walls.

He looked around and saw a big bell. On it was printed the word WEATHER. Beside it was a solid metal bar. So he picked up the bar, hefted it high, and swung it at the bell-weather.

There was a loud gong, followed by a crack of thunder. A storm cloud formed over the bell, shooting out bolts of lightning. The lightning struck the bell, adding to the sound. Then a bucket of rain dropped from the cloud and doused the bell. The sound faded, and the cloud evaporated.

There was a rumbling behind the door. Then it jerked violently inward, so that the suction of the air blew Forrest inside. He stumbled and caught his footing, helped by his magic sandals.

There stood the ogre: twice the height of a man, hairy, and disproportionately muscular. "Who you?" the thing demanded.

"I- I'm Forrest Faun. I come to have an ugly contest."

The ogre thought about that. Forrest knew he was thinking, because the unusual effort was heating his head, and huge fleas were jumping off lest their feet get burned. Then he decided to introduce himself. "See me: Orgy."

So far, so good. "I'm uglier than you."

Orgy Ogre stared down at him. "Ugly faun? 'Tis to yawn."

"I'll prove it. Do you have a mirror?"

Orgy shook his s.h.a.ggy head. "Mirror lack. Ogre crack."

He meant that his face was so ugly that any mirror that reflected it broke. This was a complication. How could Forrest lose a contest if they couldn't compare their faces'! But maybe they could do it with water. "Do you have a pool?"

"Sure, pool. It cool."

"Then let's compare faces in the pool. Then we'll see who is uglier."

Orgy considered, and more fleas jumped off. Then he decided. "Me say okay." He turned and led the way into the castle.

Forrest followed. He noticed that much of the castle was in ruins. The walls had been bashed down, and the stones were scattered across the floor. The ogre simply kicked them out of the way, not even noticing, though some were pretty solid chunks.

They came to an inner courtyard where water had collected. It was dirty, but it would do.

Forrest bent forward so that he could see his reflection. He looked just exactly like a faun. "Ugly," he said.

Orgy Ogre bent over. The water quivered and shrank away. Orgy grimaced. The water made waves as it fled to the edges of the pool.

Orgy smiled. The water turned muddy and splashed right out of the pool on the far side.

"I'm impressed," Forrest said. "I was never able to make water do that.

You are uglier than I am, by far. You must be a legend among your kind." He was sincere; the ogre had truly impressed him.

"No, I am merely an average ogre," Orgy said sadly. "But thank you for the compliment."