Sammy jumped off the spellbox and ran to Threnody, who picked him up.
Dug was learning to pick up on insignificant details. What did that cat have in mind?
Suddenly it clicked. "Mimic Someone's Talents!" he cried. "Threnody can become smoky. If I can make things turn smoky-diffuse, we can get through." He approached the woman. "Give me your talent, please."
"I thought you'd never ask," she said with a dusky smile. She held her hand out to him, cupping it in the air.
He took whatever it was she held. Then he turned to face the thorntree hedge. "Become diffuse," he ordered it.
Then he walked to it and tried to put his hand through it. "Ouch!" He had skewered his extremity on a thorn, but that wasn't the whole reason for his pain. The magic hadn't worked.
Then he reconsidered. That thorn had gone right through his palm and out the other side. It had hurt, but not as much as it should have. His hand was not bleeding.
He touched the hedge again, more cautiously, and this time his hand passed through it with faint resistance, as if the hedge were made of thin gelatin. Or viscous fluid. The magic was working! Threnody's ability to turn smoky was slow, so his was slow too, but in time it did get there.
He turned back to the others. "I have made the hedge pervious," he said. "Thanks to Sammy's hint, and your talent, Threnody. Thank you both."
Threnody stroked Sammy's back. "We were getting bored," she said.
It figured. They knew he would get the talent eventually, but they didn't want to wait three more days. So they had helped him. Was this cheating? At the moment he hardly cared; he just wanted to get on with the journey, hoping to intercept Kim before her disaster struck.
"Let's go," he said. He walked through the hedge, which was now fully smoky. Jenny and Sherlock followed, and Sammy jumped down to join them. Jenny paused to wave goodbye to Jordan and Threnody, then hurried on.
Beyond was the thick jungle. It was quickly evident that they were not about to make swift progress through it. There was also the smell of dragon smoke, which boded ill for their safety.
But Dug had another notion. "If this talent of Threnody's is safe to use on people, I can make us smoky, and we can move right on through, the way a demon would."
He tried it on himself. Jenny watched, while Sherlock gathered small, thin vines and began weaving them into some sort of pattern. Slowly Dug diffused, until he was able to walk through a tree. "Good enough," he said faintly. "Let me do the rest of you, and we'll be on our way."
Then a breeze came up, and blew him away. He saved himself only by scrambling into another tree, where the wind couldn't catch him. "I'm having a second thought," he confessed.
"Maybe if you did Sherlock and me," Jenny suggested, "and not Sammy. Then he could scamper to intercept—" She paused, realizing that the cat was about to take off. “To do something. And haul us along by a rope. Because we wouldn't weigh much. That should be pretty fast."
"Brilliant!" Dug cried airily. "If you weren't a child, I'd kiss you!"
"I'm only a year younger than you," she said, looking hurt.
Dug realized that the matter of age could be as sensitive to an elf as to a human. Jenny looked little, because she was an elf, but she wasn't. She was a child by game definition only. "Okay, I'll kiss you," he said.
He pulled himself from the tree as the wind died down, and walked over to her. He leaned down to kiss her. But his face passed right through hers. I wish there were a boy of my kind here. Then he drew back again, tried again, and did it right, just barely brushing her lips with his own, so that they didn't overlap.
Then he wondered why he should have been wishing for a boy of his kind here. There had been a romantic implication. That was hardly his idea of romance! In any event, there were other human beings in Xanth.
Oh—that had been Jenny's thought, not his own. He had picked it up when his brain overlapped hers. She was an elf of a different fantasy world, unlike the elves of Xanth. Her prospects for romance here were nil, unless she wanted to cross species boundaries. That sort of thing seemed to be more common in Xanth than in Mundania, but still, it was only natural to want the company of her own kind.
Xanth seemed like a land of puns and silliness, but under the surface there were the same real concerns that the people he knew back home felt. This was a solid reminder.
But he couldn't stop now to think through the philosophical ramifications. He had to move swiftly to intercept Kim, so he could warn her of the danger she was in.
"Let me change you," he said to Jenny, who had not seemed to notice his pause for thought Perhaps she had paused for her own thoughts. "Then I'll change Sherlock, and we'll be on our way."
He focused on her, and she slowly turned diffuse. He tested by touching her hand every so often; when her hand seemed solid to him, he knew she was as diffuse as he was. "Don't let the wind get you," he warned her.
Then he addressed Sherlock. Soon the black man was as smoky as the other two.
Belatedly Dug remembered something. "We should have made a bag, or net, or something to hold us, so Sammy can haul us. A solid framework, not a phased-o one, so—"
Sherlock pointed to his tangle of vines. He had started work on that even before Jenny made the suggestion, anticipating the need. Because the vines were small, the net was light; it would be possible for the cat to pull it.
But there was a problem. They were too diffuse to handle the vines. Their hands passed through the vines without contact.
Dug pondered. "I wonder just how versatile this talent of Threnody's is?" he asked. "If I can make just our hands more solid, or part of the vine smoky—"
The second idea seemed better. He concentrated on the tail end of the net, making that smoky. He tested it by picking up the end, while his hands passed through the lead harness. Then he worked his way forward, changing it partway. It was possible!
They put their legs through holes in the pattern, and strung it around themselves. It spread out enough so that all three of them could hang on without crowding.
Then Dug made the harness end smoky, and Jenny called Sammy, and Dug put the harness on the cat. Once it was secure, he made it solid again, so that Sammy would not simply walk through it when he got going. But the vines connecting to the rest of them were phased out, making them almost weightless. As long as the phasing was in parts of the same vines, they were tight; it was when one thing was phased out and another wasn't that they passed through each other.
"I think we're ready," Dug said.
Jenny spoke. "Sammy, go find Kim."
The cat took off. The net followed, hauling them abruptly forward. They were on their way.
Their separation ended. They were jammed together. The world might seem insubstantial, but they were fully solid to each other. Dug lifted his arms to try to hold the other two off, but it was impossible. "Okay, so we travel together," he said, putting his arms around Jenny Elf, who was right in front of him. Sherlock, beside them both, put his arms around both of them. Now they made a compact, stable mass.
Sammy, under no restraints, chose his own route. He scampered between two close-growing trees. The three of them passed through the trees. He squeezed under a root They went through it. He found a cat-sized tunnel through a mass of thorns. They went through every thorn. But without getting stuck.
There was indeed a dragon. The thing loomed up, belching clouds of smoke. Sammy zipped under its tail. The dragon whipped around, trying to catch the cat, but was too slow. Instead its talons swiped through the netful of people, without effect. But Dug flinched and Jenny stifled a scream. The dragon, frustrated, blew out a hot blast of turbulent smoke. It surrounded them, making the world dark, but didn't make them choke. In a moment they were out of it, unscathed.
"I could get to like this kind of traveling," Dug said, making an effort at bravado.
Jenny nodded. She was looking a bit motion-sick. Sherlock had done the sensible thing: his eyes were closed. Dug, seeing that, closed his own. Then he just
seemed to be floating through faintly rushing water.
As they moved along, Dug thought of something. "Threnody's talent—that was making herself smoky," he said. "But I was not only doing that, I was making other people and things smoky. Can demons do that?"
"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.
Chapter 15
GOURD
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 w
as 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.