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Authors: Piers Anthony

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BOOK: Demons Don’t Dream
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Now Dug's screen advanced on the pail. The pail retreated, teasing him. But when it crossed the place where Nada lay, she abruptly changed back to human form, grabbed its handle with one hand, and her blanket with the other. "Gotcha!" she exclaimed with unprincessly vernacular.

The pail flung itself about, but could not get free. After a moment it hung quiescent, defeated.

"Great!" Dug called, his screen hurrying across the terrain. "Now we can go on beyond the pail."

"In a moment," Nada said. "Stay here; I will be right back." She hurried back to where her clothing was. She picked it up, went behind a very elegant and even symme-tree, and hastily got back into her formal human garb. She was careful not to let go of the pail, because if it got away from her, she knew they would not catch it in the same way again. Then she walked out to rejoin Dug. She had managed to get by this incidental personal crisis, but she would have to be more careful next time she needed to change.

They moved on—and discovered snow. It covered the path and extended into the forest to the sides. "This can't be right," Nada said. "Xanth is warm. There is snow only on the mountaintops, and sometimes in unusual storms. There hasn't been any storm here, and it's not cold."

"Maybe it only looks like snow," Dug said.

She squatted and touched a finger to it. It was cold and somewhat gooey. She licked her finger. "Eye scream!" she exclaimed, surprised.

"Ice cream?"

"Eye scream," she clarified, pointing to her eye and mouth.

"You scream? Oh 'I scream.' What's it doing here?"

"I don't know. It must be coming from somewhere. See, it seems to be flowing and melting."

"Then let's find out where it's coming from. Maybe we can get around it."

"Or at least across it," she said. Her slippers were already thoroughly gummed up. "It seems to be flowing from somewhere ahead of us."

As they went, the ice cream (as Dug called it) became colder and harder, so that her feet were no longer gummy. Now they were cold. Dug, within his screen, had no problem; he just floated over it.

Fortunately she spied a shoe tree. She plucked a warm pair of boots from it and put them on. Now her feet were all right, and the blanket over her dress helped keep the rest of her warm. But she hoped they found a way out of the eye scream soon, because she knew she would get cold again as soon as she stopped moving.

They came to a castle formed of packed sugary snow. It wasn't a big castle, but that was because there was not an awful lot of eye scream available to make it. It had nice windows formed of thin sheets of ice. "Maybe whoever lives here knows what this is all about," Nada said. She went up to the frozen chocolate door to knock. She discovered that there was a screen door before it.

There was a large eye set in the screen. "Who are you?" the eye screamed.

"I am Nada Naga, Companion to Dug Mundane, who is a Player in the game. We are trying to find the Fairy Nuff. I don't suppose she lives here?"

The eye screen blinked. "No, she lives on down the fairway, of course. But you can't reach her unless you settle with my mistress of the castle first."

Nada was getting cold standing there. "Who is the mistress of the castle?"

"The Ice Queen, of course." The eye was still screaming; that seemed to be its only mode of dialogue.

"Then may we talk to the Ice Queen?" Nada asked, trying not to shiver with the chill.

"Actually the mistress isn't here right now," the eye confided with a conspiratorial wink. "Her clone is here. She looks just like the Queen, though."

"Then may we talk with the Ice Queen Clone?"

"The Ice Queen Clone!" Dug chortled.

The eye eyed him. "You find something funny about that?"

Dug, perhaps remembering how sensitive the villagers had been, decided to back off. "No, I'm an I-Screen-Clone myself."

This kid was quick on his mental feet, Nada realized.

The eye was mollified. "Sure." The eye twisted in its socket so as to look back beyond the door. "Hey, mistress!" the eye screamed. "There's a luscious eyeful of a maiden to see you."

"Have you eye-screened her?" a voice called back.

"Yes, I screened," the eye screamed. "There's an I screen with her."

"Are they appropriately awed?"

"The maiden is shaking and her teeth are chattering."

Nada was shivering cold, but decided not to clarify the matter.

“Then send them into the cone room, and have a scone for yourself."

The door opened. "Follow my glance," the eye screamed, looking into the hall. There was a dotted line marking its glance.

Nada entered, with the screen close behind. When she looked back, she saw the eye screen scone rolling up.

The cone room turned out to be shaped like a giant cone, unsurprisingly, in its center was an old woman wearing a snowy shroud. "I am the Ice Queen Crone," she said.

Nada realized that of course the clone would not admit to being a copy; she was pretending to be the real crone. “I am Nada Naga, and—"

“Yes, yes, I heard the eye scream," she said impatiently. "You want to reach the Fairy Nuff. But first you have to do something for me, or I will turn you to luscious slush, or maybe slushious mush."

"Yeah?" Dug said. "I'd like to see you—" He hesitated as the Ice Queen Clone lifted a cold finger, preparing to implement her spell. "I mean, that won't be necessary. What do you want of us?"

"I want a new flavor of eye scream, of course. One no one ever heard of before. What have you got?"

Nada was blank. But Dug came to the rescue. "No problem. How about Spinach Soufflé ice cream, for the child who won't eat his vegetables?"

"Wonderful!" the Ice Queen Clone cried. "I love to make children suffer! I will make up a potful right away."

"Just so long as I don't have to eat it," Dug said. "Now will you let us go on to see the Fairy Nuff?"

"Of course. Just go right down the fairway there." She indicated a door in the side of the cone.

They went out the door, and found themselves on a sunny green expanse. There was no snow. "Why, this is a golf course," Dug said, surprised.

"It looks like a finely clipped lawn to me," Nada said, as surprised.

"The fair-way, of course. That is where the fair-enough would be, in this crazy place."

"What would a fairy want with a lawn?"

Dug glanced at her through the screen, then shrugged. "I suppose there is a pun there. You know, this place— what do you call it, Zanth—might be okay if it wasn't for all the stupid puns."

"They are there for the cri-tics," Nada explained. "Because the cri-tics can't handle the intelligent puns, and they hate to think they're missing anything."

"Critics are like that," he agreed.

Nada grew warm as she walked, and had to take off the blanket, and then the boots. But this was certainly preferable to the snow.

In the center of the fairway they found a kind of exhibit or marketplace, with things set out for inspection. "This is a fair," Nada said. "We must be getting close."

"It's some affair," he agreed, looking around. "A fairground on a fairway."

In the center of the fair, with flair, was the booth of the Fairy. She was very fair, even beautiful, with scintillating wings. But she looked sad.

As they approached, Nada discovered that the Fairy was not female, but male. He was so delicate that he seemed feminine from a distance. His booth was set out with decanters of all shapes and sizes, containing fluids of many colors.

"Are you the Fairy Nuff?” Nada inquired hesitantly.

"What's it to you, snaketail?” he snapped. "Can't you read it on the ledger?" He pointed to the words FAIRY NUFF.

"Listen, you winged freak, don't talk to her like that!" Dug said.

"Why not, screenbrain?" the Fairy demanded.

"Because she's a lovely and good person, and she's trying to do her job, that's why, you androgynous creep."

Nada couldn't help it; she was getting to like aspects of Dug Mundane. She kept her mouth shut

"Well, you aren't any of those things, you midget-brained Mundane," the Fairy retorted. "So what did you come here for?"

"We need a solution," Dug said. "Just give us a bucket of it, and we'll get out of your face."

"And what will you give me for that solution, you fugitive from dreariness?"

Dug paused. "Tit for tat, eh?"

"No. That's the next booth over."

They looked at the next booth, where several bare-breasted nymphs perched. A man was approaching it, hauling along a bag marked TAT. Nada decided not to inquire further.

Dug seemed quite intrigued by the nymphs, however. His eyes seemed eager to zip over there, hauling his head along after them. "Don't forget what you're here for," Nada murmured.

He forced himself to remember, without perfect success. "What are those creatures?"

"They are nymphs, of course. Females almost without minds, existing only for the sport of the moment"

"But what a sport!" he breathed.

"If you want to have brainless fun," she agreed.

"Yeah." He seemed oblivious to her tone.

"That is evidently just about your velocity," the Fairy remarked.

That got Dug's attention. "What's it to you, Nuff? You never heard of play?"

"Fair play, of course," the Fairy said.

"Ouch! I walked into that one. Okay, what do you want for your solution?"

"I want not to be the object of misrepresentation."

"You don't have a solution for that?"

"My solutions apply only to others."

Dug considered. "Exactly what kind of misrepresentation are you the object of?"

"Folk insist on calling me gay, when as you can plainly see, I am nothing of the kind. I want recognition as the sour individual I am."

"Let me see if I have this straight. You are a fairy, therefore folk call you gay?"

"Exactly, I have no idea why they think all fairies are gay-"

Dug pursed his lips, seeming to think of something obscure. "Maybe this is a problem it's better to avoid," he said. "Exactly how is your name spelled?" Dug could have read it on the ledger, but for some reason his eyes were straying back to the nymphs.

"Eff Aay Eye Are Why. Enn You Eff Eff."

'Try spelling it FAERIE."

"That will change things?"

"It just might"

Nuff looked extremely dubious, which was the way Nada felt. How could such an irrelevant change affect the attitudes of others?

"Very well." He touched the ledger, and the letters shifted. Now it read FAERIE NUFF.

Another person approached the booth. "What are you spelling, Nuff?" he asked seriously.

"Nothing to interest you, clodbrain," Faerie Nuff snapped.

"What a grouch!" the man said, moving away.

Nuff stared after him. "It's magic!" he breathed.

"Right," Dug agreed. "Now they know you're not gay. How about our solution?"

Nuff made a negligent gesture.

"Take any bottle," Dug told Nada.

"But who said to?" she asked.

"Nuff said."

So it seemed. She lifted a nice decanter of purple elixir, pulled off the stopper, and poured it into the pail. When she set it back on the table, it refilled of its own volition. She replaced the stopper. "Thank you, Nuff," she said.

"You earned it," the Faerie said sourly.

But when she looked in the pail, it was empty. Had Nuff cheated them? She started to speak, but Dug beat her to it. "Did we misunderstand the nature of the deal?" he inquired in what was, for him, a remarkably peaceable tone.

"Fair well," Nuff said, waving.

Nada looked around—and saw several wells she hadn't noticed before. "I think it's in a well," she said.

So they went to the wells. There were five of them, labeled A B C D and E. One of them must have the solution they could haul away.

Dug's face lighted. "Fair-E-Nuff!" he exclaimed. "Well-E-Nuff. We want E-Nuff."

"We want enough, yes," she agreed, perplexed.

They went to Well E, which was somewhat isolated from the others. "Well E Nuff Alone," Dug said with satisfaction. "It makes weird sense."

There was a bucket on a rope. Nada let the bucket down into the well until it splashed in the water below. She drew it up. The fluid was purple, matching that of the bottle they had chosen. Nada poured it into the pail, and this time it stayed there. "Good," she said, relieved.

"Good
E Nuff," Dug agreed cheerfully.

They returned the way they had come. When they reached the castle of the Ice Queen Clone, they walked around it—and found themselves immediately in a snowstorm. Nada had forgotten to bring along her boots and blanket, and was suddenly cold again.

"Try a drop of solution," Dug suggested.

BOOK: Demons Don’t Dream
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