“Sure it does. I’m a victim, not an oppressor.”
“I fear I am being slow in comprehension. What is the definition of bigot?”
“It’s a person who is utterly intolerant of any differing belief or opinion. We were up against it in Mundania. That’s one huge reason we left.”
“Then your answer must be no. The penalty must be because you objected to the question rather than answering it.”
He had to be right. She had let the question blow her equilibrium, like an idiot. “For sure.” She faced the skeleton. “No, I can’t be a bigot.”
Apop didn’t answer. But her clothing shrank another notch. Her blouse was constricting her breathing, and in danger of tearing, and her skirt was becoming a mini.
“My clothing’s still shrinking,” she told Justin, alarmed.
“There must be a connection to your answer to the question,” the tree concluded. “Perhaps it is a penalty for what is considered an unsatisfactory answer.”
“I don’t give half a bleep what a stupid skeleton thinks is unsatisfactory,” she retorted. “He has no business asking such a question.”
“Now I don’t wish to be offensive,” Justin said carefully. “But it strikes me that if the skeleton desires a certain answer, and can make you uncomfortable when you don’t give it, some consideration may be required.”
“Meaning I’m stuck here, literally, and getting my undies in a knot, so I’d better watch my mouth.”
“I’m sure they are very nice undies.”
“You didn’t tell me anything useful.”
“Perhaps some finesse is in order. More than one answer may be acceptable, or perhaps more than one phrasing.”
“Okay, I’ll try.” She took a breath and spoke aloud again. “Maybe it depends on your definition of bigotry.” Her clothing didn’t tighten, but neither did it loosen. “Maybe every person is a bit bigoted in some respects, and not in others. Maybe I am too. But I don’t want to be.”
Now her clothing loosened. “By bleep, Justin, you were right again! I gave a more reasoned answer, and my clothing relaxed. This is weird, but who’s to argue with what works?”
“Most situations merely respond to the proper key, if it can be found,” the tree said.
The skeleton spoke again. “Second question: What is your fondest wish?”
“That’s easy: to be a queen, with all the privileges thereof.”
Her clothing writhed warningly.
“Isn’t that zombie you encountered a king?” Justin asked. “So that if you married him, you would be a queen?”
Breanna felt an awful sinking sensation. She hadn’t thought things through. “Yes. Scratch that answer. I don’t want to be a zombie queen.” She addressed the skeleton. “I want to get away from that zombie who’s chasing me. That’s why I’m here.” But her clothing tightened again.
“Hey, wait a minute!” she cried. “Who the bleep would want to marry a zombie? I’ve got a right to get away.” But her clothing tightened worse than before.
“Perhaps a zombie might see that as bigotry,” Justin said.
“Well, who cares what a bleeping bag of rot cares! It isn’t as if he’s a person.”
Then she paused. “Hoo, boy, I just heard myself talking. That’s the way the bad whites talked about us, in Mundania. The bigots.”
“But you aren’t a bigot.”
“I’m not quite so sure, anymore. I mean, how do I know that zombie king isn’t a decent person, apart from his physical condition? All I could see was his rot, and I freaked out.”
“Well, zombies are not fun to be around.”
“Nevertheless, in retrospect I’m not exactly proud of my reaction. I still don’t want to marry Xeth, but I think I could have been more polite about it.”
“Fortunately you are already past the first question. There should be a better answer for the second one, though.”
“There sure should be.” She faced the skeleton again. “I think that wasn’t my fondest wish. I think I need more tolerance. To maybe grow a bit in attitude. So maybe at some point I’ll talk with the zombie, and explain myself better. I guess what my fondest wish really is, is to be all that I can be, in every way I can be, including understanding and open-mindedness.”
Her clothing loosened entirely.
“You sure put me on the right track,” she told Justin. “The funny thing is, I believe it. I wasn’t reacting well before.”
“Third question,” Apop said. “Is the Adult Conspiracy worthwhile?”
“Brother,” she muttered. “Am I ever going to flunk this one!” Then she faced the skeleton. “No, it’s worthless. It’s stupid, pointless, inconsistent nonsense. It exists only to browbeat children.”
Her clothing tightened so much that her blouse pulled out of her waistband and threatened to uncover her bra, and her skirt was trying to expose her panties. It was really trying to embarrass her.
She laughed, almost hysterically. “I just caught on! These are embarrassing questions. Em-bare-ass-ing. I should have known there’d be a dirty pun in this.”
“You may have to stop opposing the Adult Conspiracy,” Justin said. “It can be vicious.”
“Damn it!” she cried aloud. “This is too much! I’m not going to lie and say the Adult Conspiracy is good. It’s a cheat and a shame, and it should be abolished. And that’s the way I truly feel. And I don’t care if my knickers twist right off my little black mule. I mean ass. So there!”
Now her blouse shrank to the size of a handkerchief, and her skirt almost disappeared. The magic was calling her bluff. She stood there in awful squeezed exposure.
“I don’t care! I don’t care! What you want me to say is wrong, and I am not going to say it. And now that I think of it, why the hell should I even be embarrassed by a bare ass? What is wrong with the human body the way God made it? Only a bigot would think it’s obscene.” She ripped off the rest of her clothing, which was painfully tight, and stood naked. “I have been catering to that stupid Conspiracy, and it’s time to stop. I renounce it. If that means I flunk this stupid test, well that’s tough, because I think I’m on the side of the angels. So there.”
“Well spoken!” Justin said. “I never had the courage to say that.”
“Well, someone had to. Even if—” She stopped. “My feet! They’re unstuck!”
“And the skeleton is departing. You did not fail the test, you passed it. By asserting your true belief, instead of allowing the bigotry of others to govern you.”
“Gee, I guess I did,” she agreed, bemused. “So I guess we got through the second challenge. Just when I thought it was lost.”
Not wasting the moment, Breanna marched on to the drawbridge, half expecting it to rise just before she got there. But it didn’t, so she set a cautious foot on it, and when it didn’t turn out to be illusion or worse, she walked on across the moat.
There was a space between the moat and the castle wall, and in this space were several large hoops with what looked liked two puffs of cotton tied to them on either side near the top, and three strings with three colored beads and three brightly colored feathers on each. Nine beaded straps reached inward to support a leather disk that filled most of the interior. The whole was hung by another beaded strap.
“What are those things?” Justin asked.
“I don’t know. They look somehow familiar, but I can’t quite place them. It’s almost as if I’ve seen something like them in Mundania, but I can’t think where. I suppose they could be a modern art exhibit.”
“I doubt that they are mere decorations. Could they be a challenge?”
Breanna considered. “In a vague way, they remind me of spider webs. But there are no spiders on them, so I don’t think they are traps. Just to be sure, I won’t touch them; I’ll walk around them.” She proceeded to do that.
Inside the ring of hoops, she turned. “So that was no sweat. What next?”
“I don’t know,” Justin said. “There doesn’t seem to b
e much point to this excursion. I doubt it’s worth the effort.”
“You’re right,” she agreed, surprised. “Why am I going to all this effort to see the Good Magician anyway? It isn’t as if I have anything to make of my life.”
“Oh, I thought you wanted to be all that you could be, and abolish the Adult Conspiracy.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s stupid, pointless, inconsistent nonsense?”
“Well, sure, but someone else can tackle it. I have no ambition.”
“I don’t care much about having an adventure, either. Maybe we should just leave off and forget about foolish dreams.”
“Yeah.” She walked back to the drawbridge and started to cross.
“Wait,” Justin said. “Not that I care, but I wonder if there isn’t something wrong here. How is it that we both had such high ambitions a moment ago, and now don’t?”
“We just came to our senses, is all.”
“Maybe, but I’m not satisfied with that. I distrust sudden changes, maybe because they can be bad for foliage. We ought at least to understand the change. What led us to our sudden revelations of pointlessness?”
“Dreams are foolish,” she said. “They just lead to mischief. So sensible folk ignore them and get on with life. Not that there’s much point to that, either.”
“I agree. Still, I notice a change in you. You were full of fire and verve, and now you seem, if you will pardon the expression, mundane.”
“Well, I’m an immigrant from Mundania.”
“Breanna, I am still not satisfied. You were a pleasure to associate with, and now it doesn’t seem to matter.”
“Well, so were you, and now you’re just a vegetable.”
“We were two interesting folk, and now we’re dull.”
“So?”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Why should it?”
“I don’t know, but somehow I feel it should.”
“Well, let’s go home and forget it.” She reached the far end of the drawbridge.
Still, he seemed to lag. “Where’s Mare Imbri?”
“She must be here, because we’re still connected.”
“No, she finally connected us directly, so that she wouldn’t have to mediate every exchange. She was trotting along in case we needed other assistance. She didn’t say she had to leave.”
“That’s right.” Breanna looked around. “Imbri! Where are you?” There was no answer.
“This bothers me increasingly,” Justin said. “Do you suppose something untoward happened to her?”
“I don’t care if its toward or away, this makes me nervous.” Breanna turned and walked back across the drawbridge. “Maybe she got lost.”
“That’s impossible. She knows all of Xanth.”
She spied the circle of disks again. Something clicked. “Uh-oh.”
“What is it?”
“Now I remember where I have seen such things before. They’re dream catchers.”
“Dream catchers?”
“Native Americans made them to catch bad dreams, so folk could sleep in peace.”
“Imbri used to be a night mare!”
“That’s my thought. If she went near one of those things—”
“We must find her.”
“Yes.” Breanna went from one disk to another, looking closely at each. Soon she found her: caught in the middle of the hoop, four feet, head, and tail bound to the rim. “Imbri!”
But the mare was silent. She struggled to turn her head, but even this was difficult. She was fairly bound, physically and mentally.
“When she was caught, we lost our dreams,” Justin said, working it out. “We must free her.”
“For sure.” Breanna reached out to untie a knot. But her hands passed right through it. In fact the whole dream catcher was illusion, for her. But not for Mare Imbrium.
“I think we have discovered the third challenge,” Justin said gravely. “It is to recover our dreams.”
“Right on. But I can’t touch either the dream catcher or Imbri. What do we do?”
“The prior challenge was mostly yours,” Justin said thoughtfully. “I suspect this one is mine, because I am the immaterial person here. I must find a way.”
“Well, do it quickly, because Imbri looks uncomfortable.” Indeed it made Breanna hurt to see the discomfort of the mare. She had never liked to see animals mistreated, particularly horses, and Imbri was the best horse of all. It was also weird to realize that Breanna’s own ambition had been driven by her dreams, and that when Imbri had been caught, Breanna’s life, and Justin’s too, had lost their point. So they had personal reason to rescue the mare, apart from basic decency. It seemed that all dreams had been caught, hers and Justin’s, and if they freed Imbri they would know how to free all the dreams. But regardless, Imbri had to be saved.
“I think I need to know more about dream catchers,” Justin said. “You say they are made by mundane natives?”
“Native Americans; that’s not quite the same. I don’t think they’re really mundane.”
“This is a type of magic I haven’t seen before. Could one of those folk have come from Mundania?”
“Sure, why not? I did.”
“And if he found himself in a strange land, he might seek the advice of the Good Magician, and be required to undertake a year’s service. Which could take the form of making big dream catchers to protect the castle from night mares.”
“It works for me.”
“Do those things need any kind of maintenance?”
Breanna pondered. “I don’t know, but I don’t think so. I think they are made once, then hung up and they just keep on working. But I really don’t know much about them. I always thought they were superstition.”
“Could it be that they didn’t work well in Mundania, because they grew old and were not restored to optimum power?”
“Could be.”
“So that perhaps these must be serviced every day or so, to be at full strength.”
“Sure, why not. But what’s your point?”
“Maybe we could rescue Imbri when the maker comes to refurbish the dream catchers. Each one must be deactivated for a time so he can work on it.”
“Maybe,” Breanna agreed doubtfully. “But I’m not sure how we can—”
“I wonder whether dreams are impossible for us, at present?”
“I can still dream,” Breanna said sharply. “I just don’t want to.”
“Here is what may do it. If we can craft a dream of our own, we may be able to use it to free Imbri.”
“How can we do that?”
“If we can dream that a day or more has passed, the one who services the dream catchers may think that it is time to go over them already. When he works on this one, we can rescue Imbri. You must hide, of course, so he doesn’t see you and realize what we are doing.”
Breanna was doubtful, but had no better idea herself, so went along with it. They found a nook or a cranny in the wall, and she scrunched down pretty much out of sight. She concentrated, and with Justin’s help imagined that the day was passing, and night falling, and day coming again. She got into it, and soon it seemed that time really was passing swiftly. She tried to imagine that it was happening to the whole castle.
“He’s coming,” Justin said.
Sure enough, there was a man with reddish skin, wearing a feather tucked in a band around his head. He approached the dream catcher.
“What have we were?” he asked rhetorically. “A night mare? Well, just let me you lead you to a safe stall.” He reached out and touched the dream catcher, and Imbri suddenly dropped to the ground.
He was going to take her away, captive! “No you don’t!” Breanna cried, jumping from her hiding place. “That’s my mare!”
The man looked at her. His mouth dropped open. Then she remembered that she had lost her clothing. No wonder he was staring. But it was too late to do anything about that. “Come, Imbri,” she said, and led th
e mare to the castle wall. Her hand passed right through the horse, but Imbri came along with her.
Suddenly Breanna’s dreams were back. She wanted to destroy the Adult Conspiracy. She wanted to be free and successful and beautiful and all the rest. She had ambitions. She had dreams.
“You did it!” Justin said.
She had, she realized, freed Imbri. They had broken the dreamcatcher spell, freeing all their dreams. They were now beyond the dream catchers. The day mare might not be able to pass them without getting caught, but she had no need to go near them again.
“Yes, I think we got past the third challenge,” Breanna agreed, satisfied.
“Thanks to your state of exposure, which I had forgotten.”
“So had I,” she confessed, trying to force a blush by her dark complexion. “You know, I do object to the Adult Conspiracy, but I still am not comfortable going around naked. People might stare, as the red man did. Would it be hypocritical for me to put something on, now that we’re through the challenges?”
“By no means. The full name is ‘The Adult Conspiracy to Keep Interesting Things from Children.’ By asserting your freedom from it, you merely establish your right to say or do what you wish. You may go clothed or unclothed as you choose. Considering the weather, which I think is a trifle cool, it makes sense for you to wear something for the time being.”
Once again, she found she liked his attitude. The region wasn’t cold, but it remained a dandy pretext.
As it happened, there was a small lady slipper plant growing by the castle wall, with a pair of delicate slippers that just fit her. Near it was a cowslip plant with a ripe slip, so she harvested that and donned it. It fit a bit snugly, but covered the essentials.
She found a shiny facet of the wall and peered at her refection. It showed her that the fit was more than snug; the slip clung to her upper and nether sections in a way that made them bulge and seem twice as prominent as they really were. “I look like a cow!” she exclaimed.
“That does seem to be the penalty for wearing a cowslip,” Justin said. “But if you will accept the view of one whose days of being a human man are rather long gone, the reflected view is not an unattractive aspect.”
She reconsidered. If he thought it was all right, maybe it was, even if it did make her look way older than fifteen. “I guess it will do.”
Zombie Lover Page 11
