Night Mare (30 page)

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 fashion.”

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 hands 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, smashing 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 Brass, one of the subdivisions of the gourd, where the brassies labored on metallic aspects of bad dreams. Of course the brass 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 brass folk. “Who?”

“Who are you looking for?” a brassie man inquired, thinking she was addressing him.

Embarrassed, Imbri covered by naming the one brassie she knew of who had seen the real world. “Blythe.”

“You’re in the wrong building,” the brassie 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 Brassie 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 brassie remarked, eying Chameleon.

Imbri hastily trotted on through another wall, feeling an unequine burning in her ears. “The brass 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 assume 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 rolling 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. “We’ll 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 passed 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 hell 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 reassured 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.”

So the goblin girl had been serious about helping! “Don’t wake up,” Imbri sent. “You surely need your sleep, and I already know the Siren. I will talk to you all in one dream.” She expanded the dream to include the others, now that she knew their identity.

“Oh, you are the night mare Smash the Ogre knew!” Goldy exclaimed as she saw Imbri. “The Siren told me about you. You carried Smash from the Void.”

“Well, not exactly,” Imbri demurred, somehow flattered. “But I did help and I received half of Chem Centaur’s soul for the service. That enabled me to go dayside.”

“I know how that is,” the goblin girl said. “The ogre arranged for me to have this magic wand, and that gave me great power among my kind. Soon I will marry a goblin chief. I was down in the mines, picking out a trousseau of precious metals, or I would have come to help the centaurs fight the Mundanes. I didn’t know until too late, so I sent a messenger who may not have reached you—”