Night Mare Part 26

Each roc held a big bag, and as they pa.s.sed over the Mundanes they dropped these bags. The bags burst as they struck the ground, releasing yellow vapor that looked poisonous. Bushes and trees within its ambience seemed to shrivel and wilt and turn black, and phantom figures in the likeness of Mundanes gagged and staggered and fell in twisted fas.h.i.+on to the ground.

Imbri made a whinny of admiration for the sheer versatility of the King's performance; she would have been terrified if she faced that apparent threat. She heard someone cough, as if breathing the awful gas. If the illusion had that effect on these viewers, who knew it for what it was and who were not even in it, how much worse it must be for the superst.i.tious Mundanes in the thick of it! Maybe it was possible after all, to wipe out the enemy without touching it physically.

The Punics reeled back, afraid to let the yellow vapor overtake them. Their leader came forward--the Horseman, riding a fine brown horse. Naturally that man had prevented his steed from spooking. Imbri was startled; this meant he was with this army and not lurking around Castle Roogna. How had he traveled so fast? He had to have magical means--a carpet, perhaps, or some renegade person of Xanth who enabled him to do it. Someone who could make him fly--but that did not seem likely. The mystery deepened unpleasantly.

The Horseman yelled at the troops, then strode forward into the fog. It did not hurt him. They rallied and stood up to it--and of course it did not hurt them either. The bluff had been called.

After that, the Mundanes ignored the splendid illusions King Iris threw at them. They marched south, toward the Gap Chasm, and it seemed nothing she could do would stop them. But Imbri knew the King wasn't finished. "There's more than one type of illusion," Iris said grimly.

By late afternoon the Punic army was approaching the Gap. It was making excellent time, because no creature of Xanth opposed it and the Horseman obviously had mapped out a good route. But King Iris made the Chasm appear to be farther south than it was. Then she sent a herd of raindeer trotting across the spot where the real Chasm had been blocked out, bringing a small rainstorm with them. Illusion worked both ways: to make something nonexistent take form, and to make something that was there disappear. This combination was marvelously effective. Little bolts of lightning speared out from the rainstorm, and there were boomlets of thunder. Iris was a real artist in her fas.h.i.+on. One might disbelieve the storm--but overlook the nonexistence of the ground it rained on. Water from that storm was coursing over that ground, beginning to flood it. There were even reflections in that water.

The Mundanes, jaded by the displays of the day, charged past the nonexistent deer, right on into the nonexistent storm, across the nonexistent ground--and fell, screaming, into the very real Gap Chasm. The Horseman had forgotten about it, naturally enough, and the Mundanes had never known of it.

The Horseman quickly called a halt and regrouped the Mundanes--but he had lost another thirty men. He was down to a hundred and fifty now, and obviously not at all pleased. He reined his horse before the illusion and shook his braceleted fist.

Imbri was privately glad to see the man had not caught the day horse. He must have pre-empted this one from a lesser officer. Could he have ridden the brown horse to Castle Roogna and back in the night? It seemed unlikely; the horse was too fresh. But since the Mundanes had retained a number of horses, before the Queen spooked them away, he certainly might have used one of those for his purpose, though the best routes for hoofed creatures were not necessarily the shortest ones and certainly not the safest. The best shortcuts were ones only something like a man could take. So there still seemed to be no perfect answer. Yet the major mystery was not how he traveled, but how to abate the enchantment on the six Kings.

"Is that so, you Mundane oaf!" King Iris demanded, in response to the Horseman's fist-shaking gesture. "You can't threaten me, horsehead! I'll use my illusion to chip away your entire army before it reaches Castle Roogna!" And she formed the image of a raspberry bush, which made a rude noise at him.

Contemptuously, the Horseman guided his horse right through the illusion--and smacked into the ironwood tree that Iris had covered up by the raspberry. His horse stumbled, and the Horseman was thrown headlong. He took a rolling breakfall in the dirt and came to rest unhurt but disheveled and furious.

"Oh, Mother, that wasn't nice!" Irene chortled.

King Iris formed the image of her own face there before the fallen man, smirking at him. She could see him through the eyes of her illusion.

The Horseman saw her. He made a swooping gesture with his two hands--and suddenly the illusion vanished.

Queen Irene glanced at her mother, alarmed. "What's the--" Then she screamed.

Now it was evident to them all: King Iris had taunted the dread enemy--and had been taken by his magic.

After a shocked pause, Imbri sent a dreamlet to the girl: "What is your program. King Irene?"

Irene spluttered. "I'm not--I can't--"

"King Arnolde decreed you a Sorceress, therefore a Magician, therefore in the line of succession, and he named you to be the eighth King of Xanth. You must now a.s.sume the office and carry on during this crisis. Xanth needs you, your Majesty. At least we know your mother is safe in the gourd."

The girl's wavering chin firmed. "Yes, she is with my father now, perhaps for the first time. As long as we protect her body. But the moment those Mundanes get inside this castle, all is lost. They will slay the bodies of our Kings, and then our people will be forever in the gourd, or worse. Our situation is desperate, for we no longer have magic that can strike down the enemy from a distance." She paused, glancing around the room. "Who will be King after me?"

"Humfrey said there would be ten Kings during this siege," Imbri reminded her. "But you are the last Magician. We can't let the Horseman claim the throne by default. I think you'll have to designate your successor from among the lesser talents, just in case."

King Irene nodded. She turned herself about, surveying the people in the room a second time. Chameleon was helping Crombie the old soldier move King Iris to the chamber where the six previous Kings were kept; she would be the seventh.

"Chameleon," Irene said.

The woman paused. Imbri had to do another mental adjustment, for Chameleon was now far removed from her prettiness of the past. It would have been unkind to call her ugly, but that was the direction in which she was going. "Yes, your Majesty?" Even her words had harshened.

"You will be King Number Nine," Irene said clearly.

"What?" Chameleon used her free hand to brush a straggle of hair back from an ear that should have remained covered.

"You are the mother of a King and the wife of a King and you're just coming into your smart phase. We are out of Magicians; now we have to go with intelligence. King Arnolde showed what could be done with intelligence; he clarified the line of succession and located the lost Kings. He did more to help Xanth than any magic could have done. You will be smarter yet. Maybe you will be able to solve the riddle of the Horseman before--" She shrugged.

"Before he becomes the tenth King," Chameleon said. She was much faster to pick up on other people's thoughts now, after her initial surprise at being designated a prospective King.

Imbri found this steady progression a remarkable thing. She knew Chameleon was the same woman, but most of the identifying traits of the one she had carried north to spy on the Mundanes were now gone. She liked the other Chameleon better.

Tandy went to take Chameleon's place, helping Crombie conduct the former female King to the resting chamber. Chameleon returned to talk with Irene. "I see your logic," Chameleon said. "I am no Sorceress, and there are many people in Xanth with stronger magic than mine, but I believe you are correct. What we most require is not magic, but intelligence--and that, for a time, I can provide." She smiled lopsidedly, knowing better than anyone that if she retained the office of King too long, Xanth would be in an extremely sad state. She would have to wrap up the job during the nadir of her appearance, for there was no intellect to match hers then. "I shall see that the Horseman is not the tenth King, whatever else I do or do not accomplish." She did not bother to argue the unlikelihood of Irene's getting taken; they both knew that this was inevitable as the prophesied chain continued to its end. "But in case you face the Horseman directly. King Irene--"

Irene's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I follow your implication."

"You are a lovely young woman. He might attempt to legitimize his takeover by taking you in another fas.h.i.+on."

Irene flushed. "I'd kill him!" Then she tilted her head, reconsidering slightly. "I'll kill him anyway, if I get the chance. I owe him for my father, my mother, my husband--"

Again Chameleon smiled. How different this expression was from the one her lovely version had shown. This was a cold, calculating, awful thing. "I am not questioning your personal loyalty to Xanth. I am merely suggesting that it might occur to him to try. It is the kind of thing that occurs to men when they encounter young women of your description. If you could discipline yourself enough to seem to accept his interest, at least until you fathomed his secret--"

Slowly Irene's smile matched that of the older woman. The strangest thing was that it was no prettier on Irene's face than on Chameleon's. Imbri saw, and understood, and was repelled. Human women well knew the advantage they had over human men and used it ruthlessly. What an ugly way to try to save Xanth! Yet if it came to that extreme, was there any better way? What was justified in war? Imbri wasn't sure. Maybe there was no proper answer to this type of question.

Now King Irene went to work organizing her campaign. The magic mirror showed the Mundanes camping for the night; at least there were several campfires. The rest was darkness. If the Punics resumed their march at dawn, it would take them at least two hours to reach the invisible bridge--obviously the Horseman knew about it--and longer to get to Castle Roogna.

Irene turned to Imbri. "The bridge--could you kick that out tonight?"

"I could try," Imbri sent. "But I would run the risk of falling into the Gap, since I can't use a lever or an axe, and would have to stand on the bridge in material form to kick at its supports. This sort of work really requires human bands and tools." It galled her to admit that there was something a human folk person was better at than an equine person, but in this very limited respect it was so.

"I will go with you," Chameleon said. "I'm not strong, but I'm good at that sort of challenge. I have a sharp knife that should cut through the strands."

"But--" King Irene protested.

"There is no danger from the Mundanes by night," Chameleon reminded her. "And none from Xanth monsters when I'm on the enchanted path or on the night mare. If we can take down that bridge quickly, the Nextwave will be stalled at least another day, navigating the Chasm, and we shall be much better able to defend Castle Roogna."

"But if I should be taken during your absence--"

"I'll return promptly. I promise."

The girl spread her hands. "You are correct, of course. I'm afraid to be alone with this responsibility, but that's a luxury I can't afford. Unlike my mother, I never even imagined being King. I shall set up a collection of plants to defend this castle, but I won't make them grow until you are safely back inside."

Chameleon mounted Imbri, and they took off through the wall and headed for the local gourd patch.

"I have another task for you," Chameleon said when they were alone. "I do not believe that either the Gap or Irene's plants can stop the Mundanes for long, and we'll never eliminate the Horseman unless we first trap him and prevent his escape. This will require a lure he can't resist, and some desperate measures on our part."

"I want to kill the Horseman if I find him," Imbri sent. "I'm not sure he'll tell us how to nullify his enchantment. He deceived me once, but he will never trick me like that again." She swished her tail, smas.h.i.+ng imaginary flies.

"He is extremely elusive, and I think I know why," Chameleon 'said. "It would be quite unfortunate if I am wrong--and I'm not yet at my peak of intelligence, so I may be--therefore I will not voice my suspicion. But if I am right, he will take King Irene, and he will also take me, immediately following. He will suppose that will make him the tenth King, the chain complete, but we can prevent that by acting first. There must be one more King of Xanth designated, one he can't send to the gourd. That is the King who can finally break the chain."

"Yes, Magician Humfrey's prophecy makes the tenth monarch vital," Imbri agreed, diving into a gourd. Neither of them paid attention to the gourd world, which now seemed commonplace, being absorbed in their conversation. "But who is it to be? Anyone you select can be enchanted."

"Anyone but one," Chameleon said.

"Who?"

"You."

Imbri veered into the wall of the City of Bra.s.s, one of the subdivisions of the gourd, where the bra.s.sies labored on metallic aspects of bad dreams. Of course the bra.s.s wall didn't hurt her, as it was insubstantial in her present state, but by the time she straightened out, she had startled several of the laboring bra.s.s folk. "Who?"

"Who are you looking for?" a bra.s.sie man inquired, thinking she was addressing him.

Embarra.s.sed, Imbri covered by naming the one bra.s.sie she knew of who had seen the real world. "Blythe."

"You're in the wrong building," the bra.s.sie man said. "She's in B-Four."

"Tell her I may need her help soon," Imbri sent, realizing that she might turn this blunder to advantage. Blythe Bra.s.sie just might be able to help in the crisis of Xanth. "Right now I'm on my way elsewhere."

"Yes, carrying garbage to the dump," another bra.s.sie remarked, eying Chameleon.

Imbri hastily trotted on through another wall, feeling an unequine burning in her ears. "The bra.s.s folk are very insensitive," she sent to Chameleon. "They have no souls and no soft tissues."

"I am used to this sort of thing," Chameleon said. "People a.s.sume that because I am ugly I must be bad, and they treat me that way, then find confirmation when I do not react with delight. If they approached me in my off-phase the way they do when I'm pretty, they would find me easy enough to get along with."

There was much truth in that, Imbri was sure. She remembered how Smash the Ogre had been considered brutish and violent because of his size and appearance, when in fact he was a most decent creature. People tended to become what others deemed them to be. Perhaps that was another aspect of the magic of Xanth.

Chameleon resumed her discussion. "I am designating you to be the final King of Xanth, Imbri. If I am correct, and I hope I am, you are the only one who can do it. This is the real reason the Night Stallion sent you out into the day. He knew what he was not permitted to tell, so he did what he could to save Xanth by making it possible. It was a course requiring much grief, including Good Magician Humfrey's shame, but the only likely way to save Xanth. You are the key. You must be the tenth King."

"But I'm a horse!"

"Yes, I had noticed. Are you any less a creature of Xanth?"

Imbri snorted. "I think I liked you better when you were beautiful, and not just because of your appearance."

"Everyone does. But on certain rare occasions, intelligence is more valuable to a woman than beauty."

"Oh, of course! I didn't mean--"

"I will be beautiful again, Imbri. I can not afford to remain King then; I would defeat Xanth through sheer stupidity. If the Horseman had the intelligence to banish Irene and keep me in power, he could certainly work his will during my other phase. I must provoke the crisis now, while I have the wit to handle it. Things may move quite rapidly once I return to Castle Roogna. Just you be ready to do your part, mare."

"I don't understand this at all!" Imbri sent in a dreamlet of darkly roiling nebulosities. "You aren't even King yet, but you talk of getting banished to the gourd. If you designate me King, no citizen of Xanth would accept it."

"They won't need to," Chameleon said. "I would explain more thoroughly, but I fear that would disrupt the prophecy. You must tell no one of this--until the time. Meanwhile, after we take down the bridge, you must go and fetch help for Irene's plants. The throne of Xanth has come at last to women; it behooves the women to defend it with greater efficacy than the men did. Go fetch the Siren and the Gorgon from Magician Humfrey's castle and locate Goldy Goblin; we'll need their talents for the final confrontation."

"But if I go there, how will you get back to Castle Roogna?" Imbri had never dreamed such an office would come to her, and as a night mare, she had dreamed a great deal, but did belatedly see the logic of it. She was immune to the Horseman's power, so could stop him in a way no other creature could. But practical details of organization remained. "At least I must take you back there before--"

"We shall see what works out," Chameleon said enigmatically. That was another annoying aspect of her intelligence; obviously there was a lot Imbri was missing.

They plunged out of the gourd near the bridge and galloped to the brink of the Chasm. But there was a problem. The Mundanes had set guards there. Imbri faded back into the dark forest, before the enemy spied her, and halted. "What now? I could approach invisibly, but would have to materialize to attack the bridge."

Chameleon considered, tapping her fingers idly against Imbri's mane. "Well have to get rid of them. I'll devise a slingshot, and you can power it. Make sure I don't grab the wrong kind of vine."

They quested quickly through the jungle, locating several large elastic bands, which they harvested and tied to firm ironwood trunks, making a huge sling. Chameleon set a big stone in the net, and Imbri drew it back with all the weight of her body. Chameleon had fixed a temporary kind of harness from vines to make this possible.

Following Chameleon's directions, Imbri adjusted her position until the slingshot was aimed right at the Mundanes. At Chameleon's command she phased out, releasing the bands, and the rock hurtled up and across.

It scored a perfect hit on the near side of the bridge, sweeping the two Mundane guards into the Chasm. Chameleon knew exactly what she was doing in this phase! The two of them hurried across and discovered that the stone had also ripped away the bridge. The job was done already!

Two more Mundanes stood across the Chasm. They nocked arrows to strings--but Chameleon jumped on Imbri, and Imbri phased out again, and the arrows pa.s.sed harmlessly through them. Nevertheless, they retreated from the Chasm, so that there would be no threat.

They heard a noise from the west. "A centaur's coming!" Imbri sent.

"No, I suspect it's a horse."

Indeed, in a moment the white day horse appeared. Imbri projected a dreamlet of greeting to his mind.

"Is the bridge still there?" he asked worriedly. "I heard a crash, so came running. The best grazing is south, but I have a good hiding place on the other side, and it's getting late."

"No bridge," Imbri sent. "We just took it out. You couldn't have used it anyway; the Mundanes had set guards on it."

"The Mundanes!" his dream figure cried. "I understood they were way up north!"

"That was yesterday. Now they are here. Tomorrow they'll be crossing the Chasm, and the day after that they'll be at Castle Roogna."

"I must flee!"

"If I understand his reactions correctly," Chameleon said, "you have informed him of the proximity of the Punic army, and he wants to get away from here."

"Yes," Imbri agreed. "He is very nervous about Mundanes. I can expand the dream to include you so you can talk to him directly--"

"No, don't bother. When I was fair and stupid, I felt at home with the normal equine intellect; now that palls. But I do need transportation. Tell him I shall be the next King of Xanth, the ninth, and ask him if he would like to carry me back to Castle Roogna. That's on his way south, away from the enemy."

Imbri did as she was bidden. "That's Chameleon?" the day horse asked, amazed. The night was dark, since it was no longer a good phase of the moon, but his excellent equine night vision showed him her appearance well enough. "I know she changes, but this creature is ugly, even for the human kind!"

"But she's the same inside," Imbri sent to both.

"The h.e.l.l I am!" Chameleon snapped.

"And she's going to be Queen of Xanth?" the day horse asked, daunted.

"King of Xanth." Imbri did not have the nerve to say who would follow Chameleon in that office.

The day horse shrugged. "She's ugly, but I liked her once and can carry her, if there are no Mundanes there."

"There are none," Imbri rea.s.sured him. "Even Ichabod retired to a human village, after Arnolde the Centaur King got taken out. There are only women inside Castle Roogna now, with King Irene."

The day horse snorted acquiescently. Women were no threat to him. Chameleon mounted, and they set off at a gallop for Castle Roogna.

Imbri headed for Magician Humfrey's castle, via the gourd. As she traversed a fraction of the night world, she wondered idly how Chameleon had guessed she would find convenient transportation back. The woman was hideously smart in her proper phase, but this smacked of prophecy.

Soon she reached the Magician's castle and trotted across its moat and through its wall. "Grundy!" she sent in a general dreamlet. "Is the Gorgon back yet? Tell her not to look at me!"

"I am back," the Gorgon replied in the dream. "The golem returned not long ago to Castle Roogna to help fight the final battle. I am thoroughly veiled. Just let me wake up, and I will introduce you to my sister the Siren and Goldy Goblin, who also returned with me."