Dream a Little Dream (10 page)

Nola fingered the cross around her neck; she had forgotten that it was there. “I am what I am, sir! I was told I am a Creator. I am here to help save Kafka from the Fren.” She was slightly offended.

“You?” he
roared again. He laughed so hard that he loosened his coiled body and his hind end dropped over the side. “You? Protect Kafka from the Fren?”

“That is what I said,” Nola said, quirking her lips and crossing her arms. Her fear was turning to annoyance.

“Look, you pitiful excuse for a humanoid, the Fren are far too powerful for the like of you. They would overwhelm your pitiful group in the blink of an eye! I do not believe you are a Creator. You are nothing to me.” He blinked his red orbs.

The worm who had escorted them to the chamber was coming forward and sticking out his tongue. He wrapped it about Nola’s arm and pulled on it.

“Wait!” Nola screamed. “I am! I am a Creator! If you kill me, many people will die, and if Kafka falls, so will you!”

This gave the worm king pause for thought. He certainly did not want the blame to fall on him if Kafka was destroyed. The guard released her.

“All right, then. Prove your status,” the king said, re-coiling his fallen tail.

Nola looked at Mich, who just shrugged his shoulders. “How?” she asked.

The king’s snout wrinkled. “Guard, bring Prince Chitie.”

The guard worm left the chamber through a side tunnel and after a few moments was back, carrying a large iron cage. Inside the cage was a small, crumpled animal. It was black and looked like a deformed man. The guard put the cage down in front of Nola.

“This is my son, Prince Chitie. He was ensorcelled by Reility. He can no longer burrow and is therefore not fit to be heir to the throne. He is my only son and must take kingship. If he does not, my bloodline will end.” The worm king looked almost sad as he blinked his red eyes. “If you are a Creator, you can change him back. If you do not, you will be promptly sprinkled with rot elixir so you can be consumed.”

Mich, unable to control his anger further, stepped beneath the
worm and shook his angry fist. “You can’t do this, you pile of refuse! I am Prince Michael, son of King Edward! I command you to release us at once, or face the consequences!”

The worm king looked down. “You are in no position to command me or anyone else, twerp. I care snot for your human king. Below the surface, I rule.” An eye swiveled to cover Nola. “Now, comply or die.”

Nola rested her hand on Mich’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Don’t get us killed before I have a chance to try.”

Mich was slowly realizing their situation. These were creatures not to be taken lightly, and they could surely kill the captives if they felt the need. He hated to admit it, but for once, his status didn’t matter. He was sufficiently daunted.

“How can I change him? I don’t know how,” said Nola, studying the transformed prince.

“That I cannot tell you. You say you are the Creator; do you not know how to Create?”

Nola noted the gleam in his eye and immediately covered her mistake. “Yes, of course I know how,” she said, wringing her hands nervously.

“Then get on with it!” he snapped. His voice boomed through the chamber, making it sound more authoritative.

At that moment, Nola heard a noise like that of glass being broken. She looked up. High in the ceiling, the glass of the tiny window was tinkling down to the floor. The window was actually not small, but looked that way because it was so high up. Above, she could see hooves crushing the glass and the rock around it. The iron shoes made sparks as they struck the rock, dislodging huge chunks, which the group was careful to avoid.

“What is this?” the worm king demanded. “Guard, stop that creature!”

But as he spoke, Spirit broke through and jumped into the chamber. It was not large enough for him to fly down, but it was too high not to. So he half spread his enormous black wings and glided down, landing on the rock floor.

Spirit’s eyes were showing white around the edges and his ears were flat against his skull. He stepped slowly toward the pedestal. His head just reached a quarter of the way up it. He bared his square teeth.

If you do not let my friend go, I will surely kill you,
he thought in a calm voice. He pawed the floor, striking up more yellow sparks.

For once, the worm king seemed not sure of what to do. His head retracted into his coils and disappeared. The rest of his body followed. In a moment, the worm was gone.

Nola watched Esprit nervously, and Mich held up his sword. A small door opened up in the base of the pedestal and there was the worm king.

He approached Nola and dropped his head low. His crown tumbled off his head and spun like a top when it hit the floor. “I did not realize you were a friend of this wonderful creature. You
must
be a Creator. If you will stay and listen, I will tell you all I know of the Fren, and I will give you my warriors to help you defeat them,” he said, picking up his crown with his tongue.

Mich was confused by this sudden change of heart and sheathed his sword. “Why did you abduct us?” he asked, still not trusting the worm.

“Because Nola ate some of our young.”

“What?” Nola asked, disgusted. She imagined swallowing a small version of one of these things and her stomach roiled.

The worm king blinked at the guard, who brought forth a pile of mushrooms from a nook in the wall. “These are our eggs,” he said, showing Nola.

Nola turned her head. She didn’t feel so good and was afraid she
might splatter the king with her vomit, which probably contained partially digested worm eggs.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” she said, covering her mouth to choke her stomach back down.

The king was gracious, accepting her apology. “It’s no sin, my dear. You did not Create us, so you would not have known. Nevertheless, it irritated my minions.”

“Why does a creature like you lay eggs, when all you have to do is have your body severed?” Mich asked, still suspicious.

“It is true that we can multiply this way, but it is a somewhat debilitating experience when repeated, and our clones may live only for a week or so at the most, while I am over two hundred years old.” He gave the platter containing the worm eggs back to the guard. “Now follow me.”

He led them to another chamber, apparently a study. He pulled down a small volume and opened it. The pages crumbled slightly as he turned them with his tongue.

“This, I’m afraid, is all we know about the Fren. They are what’s left after a creature is disbelieved.”

“You mean Forgotten?” Mich asked.

“No, to be Forgotten is to no longer exist. To be disbelieved is worse. It is to be transformed into living cruelty and evil, the product of a shattered dream. They are still there, but they are warped and badly deformed.”

“That sounds right for Fren,” Mich said. “What else can you tell us?”

“Just that no one has ever been able to defeat them.” The worm king looked thoughtful for a moment. “At least, no one we know of.”

“There is a first time for everything. We have the help of the Welties.”

“Ah! Now, there is a fighting force! Even we have trouble when we fight with them. We have been at odds with them for many years,
but we have become allies under the present situation. We try to be at peace with them. They have such lovely skins! It’s too bad that they must ask now for help. The Fren should have been destroyed long ago. Where will you meet them?”

“At the Shattered-Glass Glade.”

“Then you will definitely need our help to get there.” He turned to look at Nola. “Accept my apology, Lady Nola, and some of my warriors.” He nodded his head to her. “And one piece of advice; my source tells me that you spoke to a nymph and she told you to lie down in the river, is this so?”

“Yes, it is. Her name was Violet.”

“You must understand that nymphs are largely ignorant of what is real and what is legend. As well as this liability, Kafka has cursed them with stupidity. They forget significant details of their lives. Reility may have sent her to intercept you. He knows who is able to help you and he is trying to destroy all chances for our salvation. Both the lying in the river to reach the source and the winged hippocampus are legend. Legends may be true, but often require special interpretation, and are best not taken literally. So I do not say that the nymph was trying to deceive you, but you must be cautious. I’m sure you will come to know more of them and you must beware of this. They are good at giving messages, but bad with personal information.” Then he added, “Trust not the stupid. Do you trust me?”

“Of course!” She wondered if she should, but what choice did she have? Obviously, he wasn’t stupid. Ugly, but not dim. She didn’t know this land, and he did. She looked at Spirit, then back at the king. “But how is it you know Esprit?”

“He has been protecting our entrance tunnels from the hazards of the upper world for as long as I can remember. We have never done anything for him in return. We don’t know why he does it. Once he saved my son from being eaten by a giant crow. We normally
do not fear such a fate, but if one of us is consumed entire, it is very uncomfortable, and may result in awkwardness. So we are duly grateful.”

Surely swallowing one of these things whole would nullify it, Nola thought. “And what about your son now?” she asked.

The worm king looked a little sad. “If it wouldn’t be an imposition, Lady Nola, would you consent to break the spell on my son and change him back?”

Nola shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry, I may indeed have the power, but I don’t know how.”

The worm king lifted his head high and his eyes brightened. “I understand. Do not worry. You will find a way. I have faith in you.” He looked at his guard and blinked, then looked at Mich. “Get on his back. He will carry you through the rock to the surface. My warriors will be waiting for you.”

“Wait, what about Nola and Snort?” Mich asked as he mounted the slimy worm’s back.

For answer, Nola mounted Esprit, who jumped up to the top of the pedestal, then up through the aperture in the ceiling. Snort followed, spiraling doggedly upward.

Mich dug into the worm’s back with his hands. It was disgusting, but it was the only way he could hold on, and the worm didn’t seem to mind it. The worm dived into a wall and proceeded up. It was a strange experience. The rock that touched him crumbled away into dust and sand and mostly disappeared. This was a powerful creature indeed!

Once on the surface, Mich was glad to be rejoined with Heat, but something was bothering him. He thought about the mermaids and the poison that had been cast into the water and of the worm king’s son and he thought of the Welties and the nymphs. He worried that, maybe, the Fren would be more than they could handle.
What good would he be if he too were changed into a creature like that? He hoped Nola would be okay. She, being Earthborn, should not be affected by Reility’s evil spells, but she could not prevent the doom of Kafka or Earth by herself. She was, after all, a gentle woman, with not much heart for violence.

The worm king was true to his word. They were met by a motley-looking group of five worms. They were each almost as large as the king himself. Their collars of spikes were deadly long and sharp, and their tubular mouths armed with glistening teeth. Mich hadn’t fully appreciated those teeth before; these must be special warrior worms instead of household worms.

Nola was speaking with one of them. She seemed to get along with everyone she met. Her appearance was dulled by the dust and slime that had gotten on her during their trip underground, but even now she was lovely and her sheer spunkiness made her even more attractive. If only she had been a regular girl instead of a Creator!

She bounced over to him, smiling. “You were great in there! I thought we were history. It was so smart of you to say my name and save us.”

Mich refrained from reminding her that his calling her name had been cowardice, not intelligence. He doubted himself even more now. What would she think if she knew that he was really more afraid than she was? But her praise in whatever form made him feel better, however foolishly.

“The worms say that once we arrive at the Shattered-Glass Glade, they will lose their power of burrowing,” Nola said.

“Did they say why?”

“Yeah, they don’t know why, because they have never gone that far away from the caverns, but they suspect it has something to do with the type of ground there.”

“That makes sense, if that ground is made of glass. But if they can dig through solid rock, glass should be easy.”

“Maybe they cut themselves. No, they would just heal. Maybe they are allergic or something.”

Mich shrugged. “Maybe so.” It was no use dwelling on that; the worms could surely hold their own, whether or not they could burrow.

They once more headed south, toward the Shattered-Glass Glade, to find the Welties, with five new friends in tow. They had lost track of the river during the diversion in the worm tunnels, but surely would intersect it in due course.

It wasn’t long before they came across a band of marauding crimson-skinned demons. Each one was more hideous than the next. They had stout little horns growing out of their foreheads, the cloven hooves of goats, the tails of serpents, and the bodies of men.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here, folks,” said a particularly gruesome one in the front. “It seems as if we’ve run afoul of a faux basilisk, a couple of walking buckets of glue, a whore and her pimp, and even some escargot! Boys, we shall have some fun tonight!” The demon stepped forward, salivating.

Mich was worried. He had encountered a demon once before and knew how dangerous they could be. They were always looking for women and trouble. They were able to dismember themselves at will and could change instantly to any form they wished, regardless of size. They could be injured if caught unaware, but demons were seldom caught unaware. They could take over a person’s mind if that person did not guard himself against it. On top of that, they had a bad attitude—as this demon’s greeting had just reminded him.

A warrior worm slid forward and wrapped his tongue around
the demon’s neck. The demon reached up, removed his head from his body and let the tongue pass through. So much for the weapon that had given him and Nola so much trouble before! It was no use trying that tactic again.

The demon put his head back on and laughed as he made a grab for Nola. Nola screamed loudly and tried to run, but the demon caught her foot, causing her to fall flat on her face. He yanked her to her feet, leering grotesquely.

Mich felt awkward and useless, again, because there was nothing much he could do. The demons were callous creatures and could hardly care less whether she was a Creator. Perhaps they already knew who she was, so hoped to make an example of her. They might even know that their action would result in the destruction of Kafka, themselves along with it, and still not care.

He drew his sword and kept his mind aware for an intruding demon. It would be sheer folly to blindly attack the demon holding her; maybe that was what they wanted.

It hurt him terribly to see how Kafka was treating Nola. Deep down, he hoped she would be staying in Kafka after this was done. He knew that the hope was a foolish one. She would surely leave as soon as she could. He wished she could have seen his world a few weeks ago, before the arrival of the Fren. He just knew she would have loved it.

He saw that the demon had control of her mind. He had to do
something.
He had to help her, somehow. But any automatic reaction was bound to be wrong. He needed to be cunning, so as to negate the insidious powers of the demons. He combed his brain for an idea, and managed to grasp a faint ploy that just might work. “Spirit,” he murmured, keeping his voice low so that the demons would not overhear. “You surely have the power. Read my mind.” Then he felt the presence of the unisus’s mind in his, fathoming his intent.

The demon pulled Nola to him, savoring her alarm. She was
screaming and trying to break out of his grasp, but the demon was strong. Why wasn’t anyone doing anything, she wondered, outrage mixing with her fear. Why was Mich just standing there?

She had her eyes screwed shut so that she could not see the horrible demon’s eyes. She could hear the other demons laughing and applauding, goading him on. She felt his tail sliding across her body, touching her legs up under her dress. She wondered again how her friends could let this happen to her.

Then she felt the demon’s breath on her neck as his gross lips touched her ear. Her mind whirled with confusion as she felt an electric tingle travel from her neck to her toes.

She decided that Mich must care nothing for her. In fact the whole lot of them were against her. They were all conspiring against her. They wanted this to happen to her. They wanted to kill her.

But this demon, this erotically appealing demon, was trying to help her. He was trying to protect her from the evil ones who called themselves friends. He was holding her tightly to protect her, loving her. His muscular body was pressed close to hers and she could feel him responding to that closeness.

She started to enjoy the demon’s caresses. She liked the stroking of that prehensile tail. She searched for his mouth with hers. Her lips traveled across the masculine jaw.

Just as she reached his open mouth, she heard a screaming voice. “Depart demon! Leave this one to those who love her!”

What did that mean? The demon was the one who loved her, wasn’t he? She continued the kiss, although she now felt nauseous for some reason and her ears rang.

The kiss sent shivers up her spine and made her feel ticklishly sinful. As the demon lay her on the ground, her head pounded as if she was experiencing the worst headache she’d ever had. She felt the demon’s sensuous, black claw on her breast.

Then she heard the voice again:

“I said—
depart!"

The voice carried such force that Nola’s headache turned into a migraine and it pounded at her skull like a jackhammer.

She sat up and held her head. Then she held on to her stomach; she could feel it wrenching, and she vomited from the pain. She realized that she had actually wanted the demon and the thought sent her stomach roiling. She vomited again. How could she have wanted to have sex with something like that?

When the pounding of her head abated, she opened her eyes. She had, somehow, managed not to puke on herself, but she had spattered the demon somewhat. He was lying on the ground holding his head and drooling. He was in pain too, although he looked much worse than she felt. She could feel the demon leaving her mind. The farther away it got, the better she felt, and the worse the demon looked. The other demons were gone.

Something weird occurred to her. That voice, the one that had banished the demon—had sounded just like her own. In fact, she had said those words. But how was that possible?

She looked around for Mich. As she spied him, he came charging toward her with his sword extended. Nola closed her eyes and screamed, fearing Mich had become jealous of her liaison with the demon and was going to kill her.

Mich leaped over her and landed before the demon. With one swipe, he lopped off the demon’s head and cut that into two halves. After he was sure the demon was dead he wiped off his sword in the grass and turned to Nola.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes bright with tears. He was sorry that he could not protect her from that experience, but it was the only way to get at the demon. He just wished he knew why the demon had attacked her. There were surely some nymphs around;
the demon could have his pick of those beautiful, stupid creatures.

He was caught by surprise as she jumped up and threw her arms around him. He dropped his sword and held her close.

“It was so horrible!” she cried into his shoulder.

“The demon took over your mind, but you’re okay now. Spirit saved you,” he explained. He felt ashamed that the rescue had not been completely his doing.

“Spirit? How?” She looked at her huge friend standing nearby.

Simple. The only way to exorcise a demon is to tell him to leave you alone. You, of course, had no idea so you could not have done it yourself. Only one who can speak directly through your mind can do it. He was a tough one, though. Usually, you have to tell them only once. However, my role in your rescue was purely arbitrary. Give credit where it is due, to the one who saw the strategy I did not, and who slew the demon.

She
had spoken the words to repel the demon—because no one else could speak them for her. Spirit had sent the words to her, after learning them from Mich. That might not be the old-fashioned, hero-slays-dragon-saves-damsel type of action, but it had been effective.

Nola looked back at Mich and experienced a déjà vu. He might not have slain a dragon, but he
had
slain a demon for her, just as he had in her dreams.

He was smiling, and that made her feel better. Again, she wanted to kiss him, and again she balked. She owed him so much! She could never have made it through this place without him. He was so brave. But part of her just could not believe that he was who he claimed to be, even now. For the moment she let herself believe, she would be hopelessly trapped, in love. Once she was in love, if she found out she was mistaken, it would be too late. Her heart would break and she would probably kill herself. She had lived too long in the real world.

Since demons were naturally rotten, the worms consumed its flesh with delight, gnashing it with their rows and rows of teeth. Then the party traveled on until nightfall, intersecting the river.

They spent the night next to the River of Thought. The water glowed dimly in the night and it was very beautiful. Mich showed her how the colors changed according to how one looked at the water, and she was entranced. She touched the water with a finger and it swirled around almost like an oil slick, only the slick was not oil and it was not just on the surface. It had the viscosity and texture of ordinary tap water, but there was something else there. It gave her a feeling of happiness, as if she were touching every dream ever dreamed by anyone; as if she had shared them all.

They rested in each other’s arms, while the others formed a protective ring around them, and they let their minds drift peacefully through the night. Nola thought again of the kind of diversion that might nicely fill such a period, but still couldn’t bring herself to suggest it to Mich. She was just too ambiguous about it, not sure what she really wanted.

In the morning, both Mich and Nola felt a call of nature and found a nearby stand of trees, where they answered it. Nola wondered why this should be so in the dream realm, but concluded that wherever eating occurred, so did other processes. They scouted out some food for themselves and for the worms, as the worms could neither see nor smell well.

Mich looked again at the map. He traced his finger along the dotted line. He noticed that it stopped at the Shattered-Glass Glade, not at the source. The source wasn’t even marked on the map. The river ran past the glade, through a section marked “Unknown,” then ran off the paper. He hoped that the source was somewhere in the unknown section. But if it wasn’t he would just follow the river to its end, wherever it led. He had to save Kafka and find his father.

Nola put her hand on his shoulder. “What’s bothering you?” she asked, sitting beside him.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, folding the map. “I was just thinking about my father.”

“Don’t worry, Mich. We’ll find him. And if not, so what?”

Mich was taken aback. How could she treat the matter of his father’s disappearance so callously?

Nola noted his response and clarified herself. “I mean, you say I am a Creator. I can just re-Create him—as soon as I find out how.”

She was right! That was within the power of a Creator. Nola had done more with that statement than she knew. He felt so much better about neglecting the search for his father in favor of saving Kafka. Now, why hadn’t he thought of that?

At that moment, the group was startled by a strange noise. It sounded like a child babbling. They looked and saw a small, gaunt creature that resembled a troll running quickly toward them. Its little legs carried it so quickly that it was upon them before they could react.

It brushed by Mich and he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his arm. He looked and saw a deep cut, and his blood was welling out. When he looked up the creature was gone. He could hear the faint babbling, then even that disappeared.

“Oh!” Nola cried as she saw the cut. She ripped the yellow sash from her sleeve and wrapped it tightly around his arm.

Mich was confused. “What was that?” he asked Heat.

I don’t know. I have never seen that ilk before.
Heat’s silver orbs glistened with anger. He did not approve of this at all. His friend had been maliciously cut.

Nola wrapped the bandage tightly. The blood would not stop. It flowed until the sash turned red.

One of the worms crawled up and wrapped its tongue around Mich’s arm. He could feel the pain disappear. He took off the blood-soaked sash; where the cut had been was now clean, healthy flesh. The worm had extended its power of rapid healing to him. He was coming to appreciate the worms better.

“Uh, thank you,” he said awkwardly. He had never been good
with such expressions of appreciation, as the Sorceress Madrid had noted. He hoped the worm wouldn’t want to be kissed.

“That wasch a Fren,” it said.

“A Fren!” Nola exclaimed, amazed.

“A Fren?” Mich asked, similarly surprised. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Yesch. They are getting more common.”

Mich realized that it was true; they must be getting more common. Not many people had actually seen them. He had seen a picture once but never a live one; he had never thought he would. It was different in the flesh: fast, ugly and pointlessly vicious. It hadn’t even tried to kill him; it had simply hurt him in passing, perhaps because he was in its way. This one had slashed open his arm so quickly that he had barely felt it. What would happen when he met a whole army of them? What about when they knew his identity and meant to kill rather than off-handedly maim? Mich was not at all sanguine about the prospect.