Night Mare Part 28
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Imbri, seeing this from deeper in the jungle, galloped across to where the Siren hid. "They've got Blythe!" she sent the moment she came within range. "They're chopping Goldy's tree! Now it's time for you!"
The Siren nodded. She put her hands to her dulcimer and began to play. Music sprang out magically, filling the air. Then she sang. Her voice merged oddly with the notes of the instrument, forming an unusual but compelling melody. The magic was not entirely in the dulcimer and not entirely in her voice, but together the two formed a powerful enchantment. The sound floated out over the battlefield, suffusing the environment.
The Mundane men reacted in quite a different manner than the Xanth females. The soldiers straightened up, listening, pausing in whatever they were doing. Some had arrows nocked to strings; some were chopping at the you-call tree; some were advancing on the castle; and some were holding Blythe Bra.s.sie spread-eagled, preparing for some heinous male act. All froze a moment, then turned and faced the music. Blythe, battered and dented but otherwise undaunted, dropped to the ground; the men had no further interest in her.
There was no formation now, only a somnambulistic shuffling toward the unseen Siren. For almost twenty-five years the merwoman's power had been blunted by the loss of her magic instrument; now it burst forth again in its fantastic compulsion. The Mundane men crowded toward the source of the sound, jostling one another discourteously. They clogged like drifting garbage at the narrow entrance to the glade where the Siren sang and shoved blindly to enter--and of course got shoved back. Everything about the Mundanes was brutish. But slowly the clog cleared, and they tunneled in.
Beside the Siren stood the Gorgon. As each man approached, she lifted aside her veil and looked him in the face. He turned instantly to stone, a statue in place. The man following him was not concerned; he simply went around and was in turn converted to stone.
Imbri watched from behind the Gorgon, which was the safest place to be. The Siren's power operated only on men, but the Gorgon's worked on anyone or any creature. The combination of Siren and Gorgon was deadly potent. At this rate, the entire Mundane army would soon be stoned.
Then Imbri's acute equine ears heard a distant call. "Imbri! Trouble!" It was from one of the girls; what was the matter?
Imbri left the garden of statues, careful never to face the Gorgon, though she knew the Gorgon would cover her face the moment any friendly party turned toward her. A night mare might be immune to the Horseman's enchantment, but not to the Gorgon's, which was of a different nature. Imbri galloped on past the heedless Punics.
It was Tandy who was calling. She had been on peripheral duty, watching out for unexpected developments, and she had found one, to her horror. "It's my own husband!" she exclaimed as Imbri joined her. "Smas.h.!.+ He must have missed Chet and Grundy and not gotten the warning to flee! So he came in to report! Now he's caught by the Siren's song, and I can't stop him!"
Indeed, the ogre was tromping along behind the Mundanes, orienting on the hidden glade, captive to the melody. Smash stood twice the height of any of the men and weighed about six times as much; no ordinary person could stop him physically. In addition, he had his magic ogre strength, making him much more dangerous than his size suggested; he could crush rock with his bare hands and squeeze juice from trees. A giant could hardly have stopped him; certainly it was beyond the power of a person Tandy's size.
Imbri tried. "Smas.h.!.+" she sent in an urgent daydream. "You are caught by the song of the Siren! Block it out, or you will face the Gorgon!"
"Me know; me go," the ogre agreed, reverting to his dull ogrish manner, though his human ancestry gave him intelligence. He tromped on. A couple of objects were clutched in his hamhands.
The lure certainly was powerful! Imbri realized she could not stop Smash. She galloped back to the glade, sending a dream to the Gorgon: "Do not petrify me, friend! I'm coming into sight!"
The Gorgon veiled her face, and Imbri approached her safely, albeit feeling shaky in all four knees. She stopped behind the devastating woman, and the Gorgon resumed flas.h.i.+ng at Mundanes, petrifying each in place. The glade was now crowded with statues, and the Siren and the Gorgon had to keep backing away to make room for more. These two were destroying an army that had marched the length of the wilderness of Xanth, cowed griffins and goblins and dragons, and made refugees of whole Xanthian communities. It was surely ironic that the end of the Nextwave should be brought about by two middle-aged and fairly gentle married women.
"The ogre is approaching, and I can not dissuade him," Imbri sent. "Siren, you will have to cease singing for long enough to free him. I'll send him far away; then you can resume."
"But that will also free the Mundanes!" the Siren protested in the dream.
"I know. But the Gorgon can continue petrifying them. They won't know they should flee. The ogre can move very fast; it won't be long."
"As you wish." The Siren stopped singing and playing. "Actually, my fingers are getting tired; I haven't done this in a long time." She flexed them, working the fatigue out, getting limber for the next siege of playing.
"Smas.h.!.+" Imbri sent to the ogre in a strong long-range dream. "Flee to the jungle as fast as you can! Get out of range of the Siren's voice so you won't get stoned!" She accompanied her words with a picture of the Gorgon petrifying men, including one ogre who was converting slowly to an ugly statue.
"Me flee!" the ogre agreed. "Me leave spells, she use well." He set something on the ground, turned about, picked up Tandy, and charged away, shaking the earth with his tread.
"You, too, Chem!" Imbri sent, realizing that the centaur's map was no longer necessary. "Get away from here and see if you can find other help, in case we should need it. Maybe some of the monsters of the jungle--"
"They're staying out of it," Chem replied, dodging a spear. "They don't want to mix in human business. They don't care who rules Xanth."
"Well, go anyway. I don't want you getting hurt here."
Chem nodded. She was sensible enough to grasp the reality of the situation. It was best to keep all expendable personnel well clear of the moving Gorgon so that no accidents could happen.
The Mundanes, meanwhile, were shaking their heads reorienting. Some tried to attack the running ogre, thinking he was fleeing them. That foolishness was rewarded immediately; Smash swung his free fist in a surprisingly wide arc, knocking them away. It was an almost idle gesture for him, akin to the swatting of flies, but the Mundanes flew through the air and did not move again after they plowed into the earth.
Other Mundanes returned to their original mission, advancing on the castle. Their numbers had been depleted; there were fewer than a hundred remaining. Some continued on into the glade, trying to ascertain what was happening there, and these the Gorgon quickly dispatched.
Several soldiers stopped to pick up the items the ogre had set down. Imbri had forgotten about those; Smash had called them spells, so he must have believed they were magic that would help in the war effort. She galloped over, but was too late; the Mundanes were already opening one box. Whatever the magic was, the enemy had it. As King, she was not handling such details very well.
There was a scream, followed by frantic activity. The Mundanes started desperately swatting at something, stomping their feet, and fleeing the region. They ignored Imbri.
In a moment she realized what it was. Smash had picked up the box of quarterpedes left by Good Magician Humfrey. It must have washed into the jungle undamaged. The terrible little monsters naturally attacked anything they could reach. They were all over the Mundanes, gouging out two bits of flesh with every pinch, a scourge not even brute soldiers could ignore. In a moment the area was clear-- clear of quarterpedes, too, for they were all on the Mundanes. Screams and curses in the distance bespoke the location of the affected individuals. What lucky mischief for the Castle Roogna defenders!
The second box remained. Imbri remembered this one; it was lettered PANDORA. She wondered what was inside, but knew better than to open it herself. She picked it up with her teeth and carried it with her; maybe the Gorgon could identify its contents, since she had packed it for the Good Magician.
Soon Imbri judged the ogre to be far enough away; the sounds of boulders cracking and trees being knocked over had faded in the distance. She wondered idly whether the quarterpedes would have dared to gouge at the ogre, had he opened their box. She trotted back toward the Gorgon's glade circuitously, avoiding Mundanes. "Start again, Siren!" she sent.
There was no response. "Hey, Siren!" Imbri sent again, in a stronger dream.
Still there was nothing. "Gorgon, tell your sister to resume singing," Imbri sent.
After a moment the Gorgon responded in the dream. "My sister has been taken by the Horseman!"
Imbri's confidence collapsed like a wall struck by the ogre. Too late, she realized what had happened. The Horseman, confined to Castle Roogna, had heard the Siren's song, faintly, and felt its compulsion. Since he could not reach her, he had remained partially transfixed, perhaps walking in place against the wall, perhaps in imminent danger of stepping out to be gobbled by a carnivorous plant. The moment the song stopped, he had been freed-- so he had acted to eliminate the danger. He must have been able to see the Siren from an embrasure, and could work his magic on whomever he could see. Or perhaps her song had enabled him to focus sufficiently on her. He had connected her to the gourd. She now had joined the Kings.
"We'll have to fight without her," Imbri sent. "Do not be alarmed, Gorgon; she is well enough off in the gourd. Just protect her body from the Mundanes, and we shall rescue her when we rescue the Kings."
"I'll do more than protect her body," the Gorgon said grimly. "I'll petrify every last ilk of a Mundane!" She walked purposefully around the statues, holding her veil away from her face, looking for enemy men. Imbri was glad she had cleared the area of friends; this was certainly dangerous territory now!
But it wasn't the same without the Siren's summoning. The Mundanes were becoming aware of the danger. Some formed a phalanx, not looking out; others located the Gorgon by looking at her in the reflections of their s.h.i.+elds. They blindfolded some of their archers and gave them instructions on aiming their bows by using the s.h.i.+eld reflection technique. The first arrows missed, but the Mundanes' aim was improving. They might not be in the centaurs' cla.s.s as archers, but they were good enough. The Gorgon had to keep moving to avoid getting struck.
"We need to reorganize," Imbri sent. "You must back up against Goldy's tree, Gorgon. Then Goldy can protect you. Blythe can help a lot, too; I don't believe your power affects her, since she is already made of metal."
"My sister mentioned that Blythe was immune to the glare of a basilisk," the Gorgon said. "Mine is no worse than that"
"Get on my back; we must hurry."
Carefully the Gorgon mounted. Then Imbri galloped on, while the Gorgon glared about, leaving a trail of statues in their wake. Many Mundanes had not yet gotten the word; they soon got the look, and that finished them.
A centaur galloped back. It was Chem. "Why isn't the Siren singing?" she called. "Is something wrong?"
Imbri quickly sent her a dream of explanation. "Get away from the Mundanes," she concluded. "They remain dangerous."
"So I see," Chem agreed. "One thing I can do. I can circle around and carry my friend the Siren away to safety."
"An excellent notion," Imbri said, and the centaur galloped away.
They set up by the yptus tree, with Blythe Bra.s.sie protecting the Gorgon from hurled spears and close arrows, while Goldy Goblin used her wand to remove any archers whose blindfolded aim became too good.
They settled into a war of attrition, with the numbers of the enemy steadily decreasing, but their alertness increasing. The Punics tried to swamp the Gorgon with another phalanx; Goldy and Blythe disrupted it, loosening it so that some Mundanes inadvertently looked out--and turned to stone. That messed things up for the others, who found themselves in a pileup of mixed living and stone bodies. They tried to charge with a huge tree trunk as a battering ram, but Imbri sent a dream picture of a tree to one side of the real one, and they oriented on that and charged harmlessly by. When they ground to a halt, realizing that something was wrong, and looked back, the Gorgon got them all stoned with a single glance. Others tried to use the stoned bodies of their companions as weapons, picking them up and shoving them toward the tree, but the statues were too clumsy and too easy for Goldy's wand to move away.
It seemed the girls were doing all right, despite their reverses. The Mundanes were down to about fifty and were fazed by the number of their companions who were statues. Soon they would not have enough of a force, left to storm the plant-defended castle and rescue their leader. The day was pa.s.sing; when night fell, Imbri's power would be magnified, for she would be invulnerable to strikes against herself. As it was, only constant vigilance, the proximity of the Gorgon, and the fact that many Mundanes did not know what office Imbri held prevented her from getting wounded. Had the Punics been able to face her and attack, they would soon have prevailed.
Then Imbri realized that she hadn't seen any Mundanes lofted out of the battle for a while. "Are you all right, Goldy?" she sent in a dreamlet to the high branches of the tree.
She encountered only blankness. With a tired and familiar wash of horror, she knew that the goblin girl had been taken. The Horseman had evidently spotted her, concentrated long-distance, and finally managed to reach her. It surely wasn't easy for him to score at this range, but he had nothing to do except try; perhaps he had missed a hundred chances, then eventually scored when conditions were just right. Maybe Imbri had erred again by not going in to deal with him at the outset; he certainly was causing mischief now! Whom would he reach next?
"I think you should get out of the line of sight of the castle," Imbri said to the Gorgon. "Blythe and I are from the World of Night, so can't be enchanted that way; looking into a gourd's peephole does not hypnotize us. But you--"
Hastily the Gorgon edged around the tree until she could no longer see Castle Roogna. But without Goldy's help, their situation was critical. Now the Mundanes could organize a phalanx without having individual members fly out from it. They had s.h.i.+elds angled like mirrors in several places so that they could orient specifically on the tree. There would be no stopping this one!
"We have to move," Imbri sent. "They are too much for us."
They moved, Imbri carrying both Blythe and the Gorgon. The double load was awkward, especially since the bra.s.sie girl was heavier than flesh, but the phalanx was not able to pursue efficiently, so Imbri did a lumbering gallop and made it to the protection of the main jungle.
Then she felt the Gorgon sliding off. Blythe grabbed the woman to prevent her from falling, but that was only a minor problem.
They had appeared in sight of the Horseman, and he had been ready and had taken the Gorgon. Maybe it had been a lucky score for him, but the damage was critical. Now they had no really good weapon against the Mundanes. All they could do was hide until nightfall, hoping the plants around Castle Roogna would confine the Horseman until then. Imbri was not especially proud of the way she had managed things; she should have realized that the Horseman would strike again the moment he got the chance.
The Mundanes did not pursue them far, perhaps fearing some new trap. They might be satisfied to have routed the defenders, not knowing that the Gorgon could not turn and strike again. Imbri soon was clear of the enemy, moving through the quiet jungle. She and Blythe set the Gorgon in a pillow bush, covered her over with a blanket from a blanket tree, and left her there; she should be safe for a few hours. Most of the predatory creatures of this region had departed when the Mundanes came, as the reputation of the invaders as hunters of monsters had preceded them. Imbri and Blythe went to the edge of the jungle to watch the Mundanes.
Irene's plants remained formidable. The first Mundanes who ventured close to the front gate got s.n.a.t.c.hed and consumed by the vines and tangle trees guarding it. Pieces of Mundane fell to the gra.s.s, and it gobbled these just as avidly. Some plopped into the moat, where the moat monsters fought with the kraken weeds to snap them up. That taught the men caution.
The Punics tried another battering ram, charging up to the moat and hurling it across at the wall, but the tentacles s.n.a.t.c.hed it out of the air and dumped it back on the men's heads. A real battering ram, which was a horned and hoofed animal who liked to charge things headfirst, would never have made the mistake of charging a tangler.
The Mundanes consulted, then scattered. "What are they doing?" Blythe asked.
It soon became apparent. They were gathering dry wood. They're going to use fire," Imbri sent.
"Oh, the plants won't like that!" the bra.s.sie girl said worriedly. She had learned about plants during her prior visit to the real world, when she had traveled with the ogre. "But doesn't water stop fire?"
"It does," Imbri agreed. "But the Mundanes have proved to be resourceful before; they must have some way in mind to get around that."
Imbri looked at the sky. The sun was now descending, as it did every day about this time when it got too tired to maintain its elevation. Soon night would come. She doubted the Mundanes could free their leader before the friendly darkness closed. "When night arrives, I will enter Castle Roogna and confront the Horseman," Imbri sent. "You must go then to rescue Goldy Goblin from the yptus tree and bring her to where we have hidden the Gorgon."
"Yes. I will keep them safe," the bra.s.sie girl promised.
The Mundanes rolled small boulders into the moat, slowly filling it in at one place and forming a crude causeway. They shoveled dirt and sand into the interstices. The plants and moat monsters were not smart enough to realize what the men were doing, so did not oppose it directly. They tried to grab the men as morsels, but left the boulders alone. In due course the causeway reached the castle wall, so that the Mundanes were able to march up to it, while fighting off attacking tentacles.
Now the Punics brought their collected wood and piled it against the wall where the causeway touched. But the vines grabbed the sticks and hurled them back, perceiving them as useful missiles.
"I could get to like such plants," Imbri sent appreciatively.
This did not balk the Nextwavers for long. They started their fire away from the wall, then drew burning brands from it and threw them at the plants. The plants threw them back, but received a number of scorches in the process. It was evident that before long the Mundanes would be able to clear a section of the wall. They weren't approaching the front gate, for that was guarded by two ornery tangle trees; but here at the ramp, the wall was less heavily defended.
Of course, the wall itself remained behind the plants, and that was excellently solid. They would have to batter a hole in it, which would take time. Imbri judged she would have about an hour to deal with the Horseman after night fell. But she wasn't sure, for the Punics had surprised her before with their savage cunning. Still, these ones must have been active for a day and a night and another day without rest; they were bound to give out eventually.
Darkness closed. "Go about your business, Blythe," Imbri sent, and phased out.
"Good luck!" the bra.s.sie called after her.
Imbri started to neigh a response--and discovered that she still held the Pandora box in her mouth. She had been so caught up in events that she had never noticed the way it propped her mouth open. Well, she would simply have to hold on to it a little longer, since she didn't know what it contained. It was bound to be important, though; hadn't Humfrey said his secret weapon, more potent than any other, was locked up in this box? He had been afraid the girl Pandora would take it out prematurely, so had kept the box.
If she opened it herself, something horrible might emerge to destroy her, as the quarterpedes had done to the Mundanes who opened the other box. If she let this item fall into the hands of the Mundanes, some fearsome thing might come forth to aid them. What should she do? It was a problem.
Imbri suspected she would need the luck Blythe wished her. Everything depended on her. If she found herself in real trouble, she would open the box and hope it helped her. But she wouldn't touch it before then, only when she had nothing to lose.
The castle loomed closer. She had not been able to concentrate on this aspect of her challenge. Now, as she galloped invisibly toward the final encounter, seeing the grim wall illuminated on one side by the smoldering blaze of the Mundanes' fire, she realized why: it was because of the day horse.
She had thought the day horse was her friend. Now she knew he was not. He had deceived her from the outset, running from her because he feared she could read his mind, then meeting her in the form of the Horseman and learning more about her, then returning in horse form to ingratiate himself with her by freeing her. What a cynical mechanism to make her feel positive toward him! Thereafter he had used her to find his way conveniently all around Xanth, learning about the enchanted paths, the invisible bridge, and the nature of the Xanth defenses. Thus she had been responsible for the ultimate betrayal of Xanth, setting up a series of Kings for confinement in the gourd. All that the day horse had told her about the selfish motives of the Horseman, such as why he had allowed her to escape Hasbinbad's camp, were true; he had been in a position to know. Of course that creature, in either form, had enabled her to remain free; she was far more useful to the enemy than were any of the Mundane spies! Beware the Horseman indeed! If she had known...
Now she did know. Now she was the tenth King of Xanth, and she had to atone for her colossal error in judgment. She had to destroy the monster she had so innocently facilitated.
But that wasn't all of the point now. There was something else. Something more fundamental. What was it?
She couldn't kill the Horseman because of his magic, which would probably continue after him, leaving the Kings in dire circ.u.mstances. She had to make him tell his secret, which meant she would have to converse with him, and she couldn't do that because-- Because why? Somehow her mind sheered away as if at the brink of the Gap Chasm. But she had to face the truth, for this was the critical encounter. What was that truth?
She snorted hot little snorts and swished her tail violently from side to side, venting her private rage at the cynical way the day horse had maneuvered her, reviewing it once more in order to evoke the elusive thought she knew was so important. The day horse had played the innocent, pretending to be almost stupid, almost cowardly, when he was in fact none of these things. He had given rides or aid to future Kings of Xanth, facilitating their advance, not from any good will to them, but because he judged them to be potentially ineffective rulers against whom the Mundanes could make easy progress. When each new King disappointed him by demonstrating surprising determination and capability, he took out that King to make way for another, weaker one. Ironically, even the less promising of these, the women, became towers of strength for Xanth, until at last the least impressive of all. Chameleon, fathomed his secret and trapped him.
Least impressive? No, that doubtful honor belonged to Imbri herself--not human, not male, and no Magician. Xanth had at last been brought to the indignity of being governed by a night mare. A creature whose life cycles were equine-- Suddenly, as she encountered the dark moat, she suffered her final, horrible realization--the one that had eluded her before; she was coming into season.
It had been developing all along, of course, in the normal equine cycle. As a full night mare, she had never been tied to it, for she had been mostly immaterial. But once she became a day mare, the things of solid existence had loomed larger, and nature had proceeded inexorably. Now nature said it was time for her to mate. Her mind had been distracted by the crisis of the Kings, but her body had never changed its course.
The enemy she faced was, in his fas.h.i.+on, a stallion. She veered away from the castle. She could not face him now! She could not even go near him! Her equine nature would betray her! It would not permit her to attack him; it would require her to mate with him.
Yet she could not stay away, either, for soon the Mundanes would break open an aperture in the wall and free their leader. Then Xanth would be finished. The Horseman would kill the hostage bodies of the Kings and proclaim himself King, and there would be none but a discredited mare to deny him. If she were going to stop him at all, she had to do it now.
Imbri wavered indecisively. If she went inside Castle Roogna, she would surely betray Xanth to the enemy; if she avoided confrontation, she would let Xanth fall by default. Which way was she to go?
She turned again. Better, at least, to try! She charged toward the castle, determined to do what she had to do. She might be in season, but she had a mind equivalent to that of a human being, and a human woman could pretty well control her mating urges, such as they were. Imbri had to determine, once and forever, whether she was a civilized King--or a simple animal.
She phased across the moat, through the vegetation and the stone of the wall, and into the deep gray matter of the castle. A ghost spied her, waved, and vanished; then all was still. She made her way to the throne room--and there was the Horseman, her foe, sitting slumped on the throne, a golden crown on his head, a scepter in his hand, sleeping. Such ambition!
She materialized and stood looking at him. He was a fairly handsome figure of a man, with curly light hair, good musculature, and that thin bra.s.s band on his left wrist, the only jewelry he wore. Yet even though he was in repose, there was a cruel hook to his upper lip. He was not a nice person.
It would be easy to kill him now! This was the enemy who had plagued Xanth generally, and her personally, for he had ridden her and dug his cruel spurs into her flanks. She could dispatch him with perfect joy and justice.
But first she had to force from him his secret so she could free the nine other Kings of Xanth. If she failed, they would all perish as their physical bodies starved, even if the Horseman died first. If the Horseman won, Xanth would be ruled by the tyrant imposter and his Mundane henchmen. She had to succeed--but still did not know how to proceed.
As she stood there in unkingly uncertainty, the Horseman woke. His eyes opened, and he spied her.
"Well," he said, seemingly unperturbed. "So you have arrived at last. King Mare."
He seemed so confident! Imbri knew that there was no way this horrible man could get on her back, since she was fully on guard. Even if by some trick he managed to get on her, he could not remain, since she would simply dematerialize. He would have to get off in a hurry, or she would carry him into the gourd and turn him over to the Kings. He would never get to rule Xanth then! She could attack him, while he could not attack her, not even with his special magic talent. She was one of the few creatures naturally immune to his power. That was why she was here now. He had to know that. Why, then, should he appear unconcerned?
"What, no dreams, Imbri?" he asked brightly. "All this trouble to come see me, and no dialogue?"
"I'm here to break the chain," she sent, trying to rid herself of the unreasonable awe of him she felt. "How do I free the Kings from your spell?"
"You don't, Imbri! Those Kings are past; I am the next and final King of Xanth, as you can plainly see."
"Not so. I am the present King of Xanth," she sent, her equine ire rising. "I will kick you to death before I let you usurp the throne!" She took a step forward.
The Horseman waved a hand in a gesture of negligence. "So the issue is which of us is the true tenth King of Xanth. You are bluffing, mare. I know you are immune to my power, and I know I can not ride you or strike you while it is dark. I have seen the night world from which you hail! Nevertheless, you are not about to attack me-- because all your prior Kings will die if I do. There will be no one to unriddle the enchantment I made."
Night Mare Part 28
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Night Mare Part 28 summary
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