Then she heard something down a side hall. Another player! She hastily drew back. A purple ball came cruising down that passage, crossed the intersection, bounced on her panels, and went on.
Followed by Prince Dolph. “Oh, hello, Jess,” he said, seeing her in her own passage. “I’ll be out of your way in a moment.” He moved on.
Then she realized that in her effort to cover over the hole, she had forgotten to recover her own ball. Well, she would let the others play through, then lift the panel and locate it, and resume play.
Soon the two girls played though, each following her own passage. Only then did Jess get down to fetch her ball. She decided not to say anything to the others. But she would notify the management, in due course.
She finished last, as usual, but was quietly satisfied with her performance.
The somber troll appeared as Jess sunk her ball. “The winner—” he said as they stood around the hole together with Electra.
“I want to speak with the management,” Jess said, clutching her club tightly. She hadn’t waited because she was afraid he would disappear the moment his announcement was made.
“I am the management,” the troll said.
“Your maintenance here is atrocious,” Jess said indignantly. “The creatures and plants are serving you loyally, but you are not treating them fairly. You ignore their hurts and needs, and your neglect of the ninth hole is dangerous. You should be ashamed!” She realized that shame was a largely foreign concept to the average troll, but it was the appropriate word.
“How so?”
He wanted to know? Jess went into it in detail, telling of the griffin with the sore paw, the tangle tree that was drying up, the mud puddle that was a hazard to nymphs, Bigfoot with the stubbed toe, the lost child from the traffic jam, and the unfixed hole in the maze. “You should shut this course down until you get these things fixed,” she concluded.
“Now if I may continue my announcements,” the troll said.
He was ignoring the problems? Jess was fit to be tied, but realized that would not solve anything. So she shut up, steaming.
“Winner of the round, with the lowest score, Prince Dolph.”
Dolph nodded, not surprised.
“Winner of the special prize, Jess.”
It took three quarters of a moment for that to sink in. Then her outrage exploded. “I don’t want any prize! I want you to fix the problems!”
“The prize is Frankie, the prospective bride of Frank Monster.”
Dolph sighed. “I had hoped to win her for him.”
It took the final quarter of the moment for that to sink in. “I told you I don’t want any prize,” Jess said. “I want you to—”
Dolph put his hand on her arm. His Magician aura silenced her. “Take Frankie,” he said. “You can bring her to Frank as readily as I can. I will help you.”
“But—”
The troll smiled, which had to be a rare thing, because his face almost cracked. “The vote this time was unanimous, which is an extremely rare thing.” He waved a hand, and a curtain that Jess had not known was there dropped. Behind it stood the creatures and plants of the gulf course, from fauns and nymphs to the suffering tangle tree. Not only were they well, they did not look as if they had ever been unwell. “It was based on alertness, expedience, and compassion. You were the one who best exhibited these qualities.”
“They weren’t really suffering,” Dolph murmured. “I admit to wondering, because this course is normally very well cared for.”
“You got us all to help, Jess,” Ula/Kadence said. “That was so good of you.”
“We wouldn’t have noticed on our own,” Noe/Aria said. “You reminded us of our better qualities.”
“But all I wanted—”
“With no thought for yourself,” Electra said. “You are such a fine person, Jess. No wonder you are the protagonist.”
It had been a kind of set-up, and she had fallen right into it. What was she to do with her burgeoning anger? It had nothing remaining to focus on.
“Uh, thank you,” she said lamely. She simply did not know how to handle being taken seriously.
Which was readily fixed. She handed the gulf club to Electra. Now no one would take her seriously. She was used to that, and could handle it.
But this had been an interesting experience.
Chapter 8
Frankie Stein
The somber troll took them to the chamber where Frankie the monster girl was held. To Jess’s surprise she was no grotesque patchwork thing; she was an outstandingly beautiful woman, with luxurious black hair curling around her body to her knees so that it was difficult to tell whether she was wearing anything under it.
“Well, now, Prince Dolph,” she said, eyeing him suggestively.
“That’s the Goddess Isis!” Electra snapped. “What is she doing here?”
The notorious Goddess Isis? Jess had heard of her but never expected to meet her. This was weird.
“Oh, don’t get all charged up, Tingles,” Isis said to Electra. “I’m not really after your man. It’s just a bit of window shopping. I’m married myself, now.”
“You’re supposed to be in Mundania, or in your restricted Xanth zone,” Electra said.
“Except when I’m doing bit parts for bad dreams, or animating spot hosts who need help. That way I get to travel in Xanth. It can be fun.”
“The present bit part being Frankie, the patchwork woman,” the somber troll explained. “Filling in as a prize while searching for her ideal partner.”
“My host looks like this,” Isis said, becoming a female creature composed of assorted poorly matching body parts. One arm was femininely delicate, but the other was brutally muscular. One leg was long and shapely, the other short and hairy. Her hands and feet were similarly mismatched, and her head was a combination of features. Patches of her hair were of different colors and lengths; her ears were large and small, and her eyes were respectively sky blue and mud brown. She was definitely no beauty. “So I enhance her slightly, not that anyone should notice.”
Jess realized that a man probably wouldn’t notice, being half stunned by the illusion. She did seem to have all the body parts, and presumably they functioned normally. So who would be her ideal partner? Frank Stein, the patchwork man. So why weren’t they together?
That was what Prince Dolph was trying to do: win the prize for the lonely monster man. Only Jess had won instead, messing it up, of course.
Ula walked to her and touched her arm. Kadence manifested in that touch.
Now Jess could safely speak. “I will take you to Frank Stein, your ideal partner.”
“Oh, thank you, kind lady,” Frankie said. But her words came out slurred and misshapen. Her teeth did not match, and neither did her lips; she had a problem talking clearly.
The grotesque face transformed into the dazzling features of the Goddess. “I will speak for her, until she gets together with her ideal man.”
Jess had to agree it was a worthwhile service.
They returned to the boat, where Electra kissed Dolph and bid him parting. Evidently she was not concerned about the Goddess seducing her husband. Not after seeing the actual host body she was using, however masked it might be by illusion.
The boat cast off and sailed into the sky, where they could safely relax. There was a suite for Dolph, and another for Frankie/Isis.
Naturally Jess had another question. She got Kadence to touch her so she could express it properly. “We need you, Prince Dolph, to finesse the timelines with minimal damage. You need Che Centaur to clarify your role for you. But why do we need Frank Stein, apart from doing him a favor along the way?”
“Oh, did I neglect to clarify that? My apology. It’s that Frank knows how to find Che. I don’t. So I need to find Frank to find Che.”
Jess was not the only
one perplexed by that. “How does Frank know?”
“That’s an interesting little story I learned by the grapevine.”
“The grapevine,” the peeve said. “A magical network that spreads minor gossip around.”
“Exactly,” Dolph agreed. “It seems that one day Che Centaur was on business high in the sky when a button on his vest popped. Centaurs generally don’t wear clothing, at least not for modesty, but do for practical reasons. It was cold aloft, so the vest kept him warm. But when he lost the button, the vest fell open and he got chilled. So he landed on Mount Rushmost, where the winged monsters hang out, and set out to mend the vest. He had a replacement button, and thread, and a needle. But his eyes were still a bit teary from the cold, and he couldn’t see well enough to thread the needle. It was frustrating. Then another monster saw his problem and came to help. This was Frank Stein, who was certainly a monster, but qualified as a winged monster only because there was one small useless wing on his shoulder. He had been assembled from body parts and somehow that one got added to the mix.”
“I know how that is,” Frankie said. “I’ve got more parts than body.”
“Frank’s left hand was fine and feminine; he never inquired exactly where it came from, but it was good for delicate tasks. His left eye was similarly fine, and could see close detail very well. He took the needle and threaded the eye with no problem. That set it up so that Che could complete his repair. He appreciated the help, so he asked whether he could do Frank any return favor. Frank declined, but Che wasn’t satisfied, so he put a mark on Frank’s wrist, the one supporting the hand that had so nicely threaded the needle, that would enable Frank to find Che at any time, should he ever need a return favor. The mark was in the form of a ring with a bright spot, and that spot always pointed the direction where Che was to be found. So Frank can find Che when he wants to.”
Dolph looked around. “Now I have no idea where Che Centaur is at the moment. So I made a deal with the Night Stallion, that if I delivered Frankie to Frank, he would make a path to lead me to Frank so I could do it. So I believe I can find Frank, and Frank can find Che.”
“This is interesting, Uncle,” Aria said. “But why did the Night Stallion want Frankie delivered to Frank?”
Dolph nodded. “It seems she was crafted in the depths of the dream realm, and served as a horror figure for bad dreams, and did such a good job that the Stallion wanted to reward her, but she didn’t want anything. When he learned that Frank had entered Xanth, he knew how to do it. This is it.”
“So now it all comes together,” Jess said. “Things make some sense after all, in their devious fashion.” But nobody paid attention.
“So how do we get to Frank?” Magnus asked.
They looked at Dolph. “It seems that he is now making bad dreams. It is an irony that he has replaced Frankie in that capacity. Had she but remained where she was, they might have gotten together by this time.”
“I was getting tired of making bad dreams,” Frankie said. “I wanted to make some good dreams. But I got lost on the way, and had to work at the gulf curse instead.”
Gulf curse? Was that a typo? Jess wasn’t sure it was.
“So now when I enter the dream realm,” Dolph continued, “I will find the path to Frank.”
“We will all find the path to Frank,” Magnus said. “We know of an access to the dream realm. The boat is sailing there now. In the interim, we can rest.”
They rested. “I hear you acquitted yourself well at the Fantastic Scenes Gulf Club,” Magnus told Jess when they were alone.
“I just did what I had to do.”
“I want so much to kiss you and make it count.”
“Fake it.” She hated that she was coming across as insufferably needy, but she couldn’t help it.
He did, and she loved it.
Then she remembered something she had been meaning to ask him about. “Some folk are calling me the protagonist, the main character of this story. Can that be right?”
Magnus paused. “And this is a serious question?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you are the protagonist. I knew there was something special about you the moment I first met you. Now I think I know more of what it is. You’re the focus!”
“But I’m nothing special. I can’t even be taken seriously. Who would ever be interested in a story about me?”
“I would.” He put his hand across her mouth to stifle her protest. “I know that’s not what you mean. But here’s the thing: the protagonist is not necessarily the object of attention. It’s not about her. She is the viewpoint character, one who sees what is happening. The one who happens to be there when the real story unfolds. She’s the camera eye. Few folk take the camera seriously; it’s just looking.”
Jess was surprised as understanding wedged into her mind. “Nobody has to take me seriously. Because I’m not the point. I’m just the storyteller. Not even that. I’m the conduit through which the story is told. I’m just a channel, not important myself.”
“Now you know. But Jess, you’re important to me regardless. I wish you had a rose or a gulf club or a Sorceress’s hand on your shoulder all the time. I wish I could love you.”
“Instead of faking it,” she agreed.
“I’m faking the close expression of it. I don’t think I’m faking the emotion itself.”
“Oh, Magnus! That’s such a nice thing to say!”
“And my mind knows that’s not sarcasm, even though my immediate feeling thinks it is. Oh, Jess, I’m tormented!”
And she saw a tear lurking in the corner of his eye. She knew he meant it. But could not act it.
“Magnus, I know this is a lot to ask. But could you just lie there a while and choke back your laughter while I love you?”
“I will try.”
He lay there while she hugged him and kissed him and ran her fingers through his hair. She whispered sweet nothings in his ear. When she saw him holding his breath in an effort not to burst out laughing she gave it up; the curse really could not be circumvented this way. Bleep.
“We are approaching Mount Neverest,” Dell’s voice came from a spot on the wall. “Those who wish to participate should assemble topside in fifteen minutes.”
“The boat has a general speaker system,” Magnus said. “I didn’t know that.”
“Neither did I,” Jess said. “I hope it doesn’t have a general spy-eye system, too. Not that we were doing anything worth spying on.”
“I would rather we had been doing something spy-worthy.”
She got a wild notion. “Let’s do it! We have fifteen minutes.”
“But we just tried to, and didn’t get anywhere.”
“Let’s try harder! Stand up.”
Perplexed, he stood there. She quickly took off his clothing, then her own. Naked, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him, flattening herself against him. “Hold me up,” she said, climbing on him and spreading her legs to clamp around his waist as he held on to her bottom to prevent her from falling. She managed to catch his face and kiss him ardently.
But it was impossible to hold the position long. Slowly she slid down him, until she had to put her feet down lest she land on her bottom. Nothing significant had happened.
“Oh, bleep!” she cried tearfully.
“Bleep,” he echoed. “If any other woman did that—”
“Don’t I know it.” Once again, the curse had prevailed.
“Not that I’d want her to.”
“Of course.” And that was meant not to be taken seriously. She was probably the only young woman who could have failed to seduce any young man that way.
Only as they were dressing did Jess remember Nia’s talent with the floating spectacles. She could have watched the whole disaster. Had it been worth watching. Jess would have been glad to do it regardless, had she onl
y been able to. She was sure Magnus felt the same.
Topside, they saw the giant gourd atop the mountain peak. The one that she had entered with the mares. Now it loomed ever larger.
The deck was crowded. All the personnel were there. They had all heard of the minor adventure getting the stallions switched back. This was another. Everyone wanted to participate! But of course only a few of them could.
That gave Jess an idea.
Ula forged toward her. “We saw that dim bulb flash over your head! Out with it.” Her hand caught Jess’s arm, and she felt the power of the Sorceress.
“We all want to go,” Jess said. “So why don’t we? Let’s sail Fibot there.”
So many glances went out that they crashed into each other and dropped helplessly to the deck, where, soiled, they faded out. All except Nia’s, which caught Dell’s eye and held it. “Well?”
“Prince Dolph,” Dell said. “Is there any reason why not?”
Dolph shrugged. “If there is, the boat won’t be able to get into the dream realm.”
Then Nia’s glance caught Win’s eye, as she guided the boat. “What does Mare Imbri say? She knows the night dream terrain better than any of the rest of us.”
“She says it’s people’s fears that prevent access to the worst dreams, not the size of the dream realm, which is infinite. Anyone who wants to go in can do so. But some may be sorry they did.”
“You heard that?” Dell asked the group of them. “Anyone who wants to stay clear, say “Nay.”
“Neigh,” Myst said, giggling. She hosted Mairzy, the day mare, who hardly feared this realm after having to deliver its bad dreams for a month.
“Then we are decided,” Dell said. “Sail on.”
Win revved up the wind, her blown hair pointing the way. The hexagonal firesail brightened. The boat sailed into the eye.
First they came to the dread Haunted House. The illuminated path led right to the front door. Jess was surprised. Surely Frank couldn’t be working there?
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