Faun and Games (39 page)

was a fair distance, just as it was in Xanth, so they stopped at a rest

station as night came. They knew that night had nothing to do with the

progress of the sun across the sky, because Ptero simply used the light

of Xanth.
 
Sometimes when Princess Ida put her head in shadow, the scene

dimmed.

Forrest wasn't sure whether he should be tired, but when darkness

closed, he found he wanted to sleep, so that was all right.
 
Sleeping

was no more unnatural here than eating; it seemed they could take or

leave either, depending on the local circumstance.

"What does it feel like, being solid?" he asked Imbri as she settled

down beside him.
 
"I mean, I'm used to it, but you aren't."

"Especially not in girl form," she agreed.
 
"But I find I am getting

used to it, and at times I rather like it.
 
I am even beginning to feel

solid girl emotions."

"Oh?
 
What are they?"

"Appreciation for the beauty of the forest, and the niceness of folk

like Cathryn.
 
Even things like eating and sleeping are interesting

experiences."

"I suppose so.
 
This world of Ptero seems all right, as I become

accustomed to it."

"Yes." Then sleepiness overtook him, and he faded out.

He woke later, feeling a motion near him.
 
He discovered that it was

Imbri, putting a conventional blanket on him.
 
"You looked cool," she

explained.

He had indeed become cool, but the blanket fixed it.
 
"Thank you."

"You are welcome, Forrest."

He started to drift back to sleep.
 
But then he realized that she had no

blanket of her own.
 
"Aren't you cool too?" he asked.

"It does not matter."

"Yes it does.
 
Isn't there another blanket?"

"I found only one.
 
Use it, and sleep in peace."

"But you must be sleepy too.
 
You should have it."

"But then you would be cold."

Forrest pondered briefly.
 
"We could share it."

She hesitated.

He had been afraid of that.
 
"If you are concerned that I view you as a

nymph-"

"No, it is clear that you do not.
 
You are a far more responsible faun

than I expected."

"Caring for my tree has made me that way.
 
Please do join me, Imbri; we

are both warm, and the blanket is large enough for us both."

"Thank you." She dissolved her clothing and joined him.

After an astonished instant, Forrest realized that she did not care to

sleep under a blanket in her clothing; it wouldn't feel comfortable. So

she had eliminated her dress.
 
It made sense.
 
But in that instant she

had indeed looked exactly like a nymph.
 
That had an effect on him that

he hoped he could conceal from her.
 
He did not want her to think that

he had tried to deceive her.

She settled down beside him.
 
Her body touched his at shoulder and hip.

She was soft and smooth and warm.
 
Just like a nymph.
 
But she was not a

nymph, he reminded himself forcefully.
 
She was a mare in girl form, and

an intelligent and thoughtful creature, not interested in nymphly

pursuits.
 
So he faced away from her and did his best to ignore her

presence.

It took some time, but at last he did manage to sleep again.
 
But later

he drifted awake to discover her nestled against his side, her nymphly

attributes very soft.
 
He didn't dare move.
 
But he wasn't quite sure he

dared sleep again, lest he dream of chasing and catching a nymph, and do

something that would appall her.
 
He wished he had anticipated this

situation, and avoided it.
 
Yet at the same time he also liked this

unexpected contact with her.
 
He knew that his awareness of her had

changed in a way that could not be undone.
 
She was still Imbri, his

helpful companion.
 
But now she was also somewhat more than that-in a

way he must not allow to show.

Forrest lay awake, struggling to adjust his thoughts, but they would not

fit back into their former simplicity.
 
He knew Imbri as a person, not a

nymph-but now he wished she could be both.
 
That was of course

impossible.

So it was a long night.
 
But in the morning he was not tired or logy;

apparently in this state he did not really need sleep.
 
It was just a

convenience during darkness.

As the light brightened, Imbri stiffed and woke.
 
She stretched, rubbing

against him, then sat up.
 
"Oh-of course," she said, glancing at him.

"We shared warmth.
 
For a moment I wondered what I was doing under the

blanket with you."

"Just sleeping," he said.

"Yes.
 
Thank you." She stood, lanced down at her bare body, and

concentrated.
 
Her dress formed from her substance, covering her.
 
"I

feel like a Sorceress when I do this," she confessed.
 
"But it's really

not magic, just reshaping of my soul material."

"Yes." But how different it was to see that nude body, when he knew she

was not a mindless nymph.
 
That awareness should have caused him not to

care how she looked, but instead it made him care even more.
 
Last night

he had wished she could be both nymph and friend, the two aspects

separate, taking turns; now he wished she could be both at once.
 
That

was a significant change in concept: the idea of celebrating with a real

person, a friend, instead of doing the mindless thing with one, and

respecting the other.
 
A human woman could have fit that description, as

humans had minds and bodies, but Imbri was not human and she had no

body, except in the present rather special situation.
 
So it was

pointless to dwell on it.

"You seem rather thoughtful this morning," Imbri remarked.
 
"Did you

sleep well?"

What could he say?
 
The truth was not appropriate, but he did not like

the notion of deception.
 
So he hesitated.

"Oh, you didn't!" she said, in brief anguish.
 
"I shouldn't have taken

part of your blanket!
 
You lacked room to sleep freely.
 
I must have

tossed and turned and poked you in the night."

"No, no, that's not it," he protested.
 
"You were perfect."

"I didn't poke you?"

"Not exactly." This struggle to find a compromise between accuracy and

discretion was awful.
 
It was not an exercise normally required of tree

s ' '

pirits.

"I don't understand.
 
Did I poke you or didn't I?
 
Did I disturb your

sleep or didn't I?"

Forrest decided that evasion was untenable.
 
He would have to be

forthright, and take the consequence.
 
"You did poke me, but it didn't

hurt.
 
You did disturb my sleep, but not because of any restlessness on

your part.
 
You slept quietly."

"But I poked you with my elbow?"

"No."

"My knee?"

"No."

"I don't understand.
 
What did I poke you with?"

"Your-" Still he hesitated.

She looked down at her body.
 
"I don't see how-" Then her human mouth

turned round.
 
"My maidenly bosom?
 
I poked you with that?"

Forrest felt himself blushing, a thing he had never done before.

Possibly no faun had managed it before.

"Oh, Forrest," she said, chagrined.
 
"I never thought-I look like a

nymph, don't I!
 
And you're a faun.

"Yes." Now it was out.

"And you had to hold yourself back from being a faun.
 
All night."

.
 
"Yes."

"I would never have-if I had realized-this isn't my natural form-it just

never occurred to me that-"

"It doesn't matter," he said, wanting to get off this embarrassing

subject.

"Yes it does!
 
I have treated you with discourtesy, and caused you

distress.
 
I don't know how I can make up for that.
 
I should have

understood-it's so obvious in retrospect-"

"Please.
 
It's not important.
 
Let's just resume our trek."

"I was just so thoughtless!
 
No apology can be enough.
 
But I must do

something-" Then a new expression crossed her face.
 
"Forrest, I keep

forgetting that I'm solid, here on Ptero.
 
Even when that makes

mischief, I forget that it can also abate it.
 
I can be a nymph for

you."

"No.
 
I don't want that."

"No, really.
 
It is no affront to me.
 
We animals don't take such things

seriously.
 
I can play the game perfectly, if you will just tell me how.

Let's see-nymphs run and scream cutely, and kick their feet, and fling

their hair about, and pretend to signal the stork." As she spoke, she

dissolved her dress, ran around in a little circle, kicked up one foot

and then the other, and flung her lengthening hair in a full circle.

Then she tried a cute scream: "Eeeeeek!"

"No!" Forrest cried.
 
"Stop it!"