Faun and Games (7 page)

down here, that eats anyone who get caught?"

"He's not in this section at the moment," Chlorine said.
 
"Did you want

to meet him?"

"No!
 
I want to avoid him."

"His name is Stanley Steamer, and he eats only folk he doesn't know.
 
I

could introduce you."

"Thanks all the same.
 
I'd rather not."

"He has a really cute son named Steven Steamer.
 
All the girls swoon

over that baby dragon."

"I'm not a girl."

She laughed again.
 
"Very well.
 
No introduction.
 
But if you should

ever meet him, just say that Nimby sent you, and he won't eat you."

"Oh-you mean dragons don't eat the friends of dragons?"

"Something like that.
 
The winged monsters, especially, are very

honorable.
 
They protect their own, and the friends of their own.
 
But

don't abuse the privilege.
 
They have to make their living, you know."

By eating most folk they encountered.
 
"I won't abuse it," Forrest

promised.
 
So was this more fantasy on her part, or was it valid?
 
He

hoped he never had occasion to find out.

They reached the far wall of the chasm, which wasn't far off, because

the gulf was narrower at the base than at the top.
 
Forrest knew that if

he cared to ponder hard on that, he might conclude that this meant that

the walls weren't quite vertical.
 
But that intensity of thought wasn't

worth the effort, so he didn't reach that conclusion.

The trip up was like the trip down, only now "forward" was toward the

distant sky.
 
The dragon seemed to have no trouble walking on the wall,

and Forrest did not feel any great pull of gravity holding him back.

Just the supple form of Chlorine's body as he kept his handslinked.

"You must be hungry," she said after a bit.
 
"Have a dough nut. They're

very filling." She made a quarter turn, and put a big spongy nut to his

mouth so he could take it without letting go of her.

He opened his mouth and took it.
 
It tasted very good, rather like fresh

pie crust, and was surprisingly filling.
 
"Thank you."

"You are welcome."

Forrest looked ahead and saw a dark cloud approaching.
 
"That looks like

Fracto, the worst of clouds," he said.
 
"I hope he doesn't decide to wet

on us."

"He wouldn't dare," Chlorine said.

However, the cloud came floating toward them, growing bigger and uglier

by the moment.
 
Until Chlorine tapped Nimby on a scale.
 
"Mischief at

two o'clock," she murmured.

The dragon lifted his head and glanced at the cloud.
 
The cloud

blanched, and then changed course, scudding swiftly away.

Forrest blinked.
 
Surely he hadn't seen that.
 
How could one glance from

a comically stupid looking dragon dissuade as mean a cloud as Fracto? It

must be an illusion.
 
Maybe the woman's craziness was spreading to him.

They reached the top and bent around it.
 
Things were on the level

again.

The dragon stopped.
 
"This is as far as we'll take you," Chlorine said.

"There is a magic path right ahead.
 
Follow that, and it will lead you

safely to the Good Magician's castle."

"Thank you," Forrest said, sliding down to the ground.

"And don't be concerned about the Year's Service," she told him.

"Humfrey won't require it of you.
 
So you will be back with your tree in

time."

"I will?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes.
 
And I think happier than you have ever been." She shrugged.
 
"But

of course I don't know the future, so I could be wrong."

She seemed so reasonable in her madness!
 
"Thank you," he repeated.

"Thank you for everything."

She smiled, lighting up the local scenery again, and waved as Nimby

started off into the jungle.
 
He didn't seem to need a path. Forrest

turned and followed the magic path.

In a moment he thought of something else, and turned back.
 
A moment

wasn't long, so he had plenty of time to catch them and ask his

question.
 
But when he returned to the brink of the Gap Chasm, there was

no sign of damsel or dragon.
 
He followed Nimby's tracks to the jungle's

edge-and there they stopped.
 
It was as if the creature had simply

vanished without walking farther.
 
Could he have flown?

No, there was nothing in the sky.
 
They were simply gone.

That was one curious pair of creatures!
 
How could he query a vanishing

donkey-headed dragon?
 
Oh, well, he had forgotten his question anyway.

"Yes, they are really gone," D.
 
Sire said, fading in.

"What happened to you?"

"I had a sudden urge to busy myself elsewhere.
 
It didn't fade until you

got free of Miss Poison.
 
So I never got to see whether any bumps in the

terrain caused your hands to bump up to her bumps."

Yet another evidence of the odd woman's power.
 
She had banished a

demoness!
 
"Well, I no longer need your guidance, so you can continue

your business elsewhere."

She shook her finger at him, and the shaking progressed down her arm and

through her body.
 
"Nuh-uh, faun.
 
I have half a favor to complete."

"You have done so.
 
I am now on a magic path leading straight to the

Good Magician's castle."

She nodded, and the nodding spread down too.
 
"So you are.
 
But there is

a further complication."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Good.
 
The Good Magician always has three preposterous Challenges

preventing a querent from entering his castle."

"Preventing a what?"

"A querent.
 
A person who comes to make a query.
 
That's you."

"So how do I handle those Challenges?"

"Sorry, that information is beyond my obligation."

He looked at her, annoyed.
 
Then he realized that that was what she

wanted.
 
"Thank you.
 
I appreciate the information.
 
Now I am better

prepared to handle the Challenges."

"Curses," she muttered.
 
"Foiled again." She faded out.

He ran along the path, making excellent time.
 
By some process he did

not understand, it seemed to be earlier in the day than it had been when

he first reached the Gap Chasm, so that he wouldn't need to spend a

night halfway there.
 
He wasn't hungry; the dough nut seemed to have fed

him for a long time.

Indeed, in the afternoon he reached the Good Magician's castle. This was

an appealing edifice, for those who- night like that type, with red

brick walls, green tiled roofs, and a bright blue moat.
 
In the moat was

a peculiar monster.
 
It had the top of a man, and the body of a winged

serpent, and it was huge.

There was a drawbridge, and the bridge was in the lowered position,

crossing the moat.
 
Somewhat hesitantly, Forrest approached the bridge.

" You'll be sorry," D.
 
Sire murmured behind him.

"Then go away before you enjoy it too much," he said shortly,

lengthening his stride.

Immediately the moat monster swam toward the bridge.
 
"Come into my

grasp, faun face," he said.
 
"I haven't eaten in days."

Forrest stopped.
 
The human portion looked fully strong enough to grab

him and dispatch him, and the serpent portion looked capable of

digesting him.
 
There was no way he could avoid those arms.
 
on the

narrow bridge.
 
So this must be a Challenge.

He looked around, but the moat seemed to circle the entire castle. He

couldn't try to swim, because the monster would catch him that much

easier.
 
How was he going to get past?

A nonchalant man of indifferent persuasion came walking around the moat.

"Do I perceive a problem?" he inquired.

"I am trying to cross the moat without getting grabbed and gobbled by

the monster."

"Now that is a very interesting statement.
 
Why do you wish to do that?"

"Because I need to talk to the Good Magician."

"Indubitably.
 
Why do you wish to talk with him?"

"I need an Answer to a Problem."

 
The man nodded.
 
"Has it occurred to you that you may be misdirecting

your energies?
 
You can't change the circumstance, but you can change

yourself.
 
Maybe you can solve your problem yourself, just by developing

a better attitude."

Forrest glanced at him.
 
"Who are you?"

"I am the castle psychologist.
 
It is my business to talk to querents

and try to enable them to solve their problems the old fashioned way: by

themselves."

"If I could solve it myself, I wouldn't be coming here," Forrest said

shortly.

Now are you sure of that?
 
Perhaps all you need is an adjustment of

attitude."

Forrest's mood had not been great when he arrived at the castle, and it

was deteriorating.
 
"I think all I need is a way across that moat."