Geis of the Gargoyle

by Piers Anthony

  Don't you know enough to blink at least once a minute?

  Here's some lubricating oil.” She produced an oilcan and squirted a drop on each eyeball, then massaged his eyelids to spread it around.

  His eyes finally ground out of their grooves. It hurt to move them around, but he wanted to get them back to full working order. “She—she offered me a deal,” he said.

  “What can she offer that I can't offer? I speak theoretically, of course, having no more inherent interest in you than she does.”

  He considered that. “Actually, probably nothing. But it seemed persuasive at the time.”

  “Well, that's because you mortal men are constitutionally unable to look and reason simultaneously.”

  “Oh, I wouldn't say that.”

  She assumed Desiree's form, with Desi's open blouse.

  She leaned forward and breathed. “Now reason with me.”

  “I, uh, duh—” he said, staring.

  Her blouse closed itself up. His eyes broke free just before they corroded again. “Point made,” he said.

  “The other teams are proceeding,” she said. “But not finding anything. So I took time to look around myself, but I couldn't locate the philter. It is certainly well hidden.”

  “But it must be afraid that we can find it,” he said, “because it's taking a lot of trouble to interfere with our search.”

  “Yes. And the ones I think it fears most are Gayle Goyle and you, because it has taken the most trouble to eliminate or subvert you. It ignored Iris and Surprise. So you must have the key to its location.”

  “If I do, I don't know what it is,” he said.

  “It may be something you are destined to do or see.

  Maybe you will just happen to blunder on its hiding place, and it knows that. So it's desperate to divert you or subvert you before that happens.”

  Hiatus shrugged. “I suppose. But she scared me. She said she could destroy Desiree's tree.”

  “She lied. How can an illusion hurt a tree?”

  “But it's a demon, really. And demons can—”

  “Set your foolish mind at ease. I'm a demon. I could hurt a tree. But why would I bother? It would be a lot of work to no purpose. The philter is a demon, but of a different species. Apparently most of its bulk is bound into its physical aspect, and it has very little left over. So it uses a variant of illusion, stretched very thinly, with just a bit of substance to provide the feel of it when necessary.

  So when she kisses you, only her lips are solid, and when her hand touches you, only the skin of her fingers is tangible. No way could she damage a tree protected by its dryad.”

  “That's right,” he said, appreciating her reasoning.

  “That lady dog lied to me!”

  “That's why I told you not to trust her.” She looked out the window. “Say, I think we're getting where we're going.”

  He followed her gaze. “That looks like a giant gourd!”

  “The entry into the dream realm,” she agreed. “This is going to be interesting.”

  “Interesting? Why?”

  “Because demons don't dream. I don't know what to anticipate in a dream.”

  “A dream in madness is frightening,” he said. “You demons haven't been missing anything you'd want.”

  “Well, we'll see.” She stood as the train creaked to a halt. “Let's get on with it.”

  He followed her off the train. A path led directly to the monster gourd. The thing was so big that the train itself could have steamed on into it, but perhaps the train knew better. A sign over its entry said ABANDON HOPE, ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE.

  “Is this wise?” he asked nervously.

  “If the philter doesn't want us to go here, it's probably where we should go,” Mentia said. “Besides, I'm curious.”

  “You have never had a bad dream delivered by a night mare,” he told her.

  “Right. I'm sure it's intriguing. Let's head on into Stone Hunch.”

  He realized that she would have to learn the hard way.

  She had never dreamed, so had no fear, in just the way small dragons who had never encountered ogres lacked fear. Any human child knew better than to tempt a night mare, but a demon didn't.

  They entered the enormous peephole. With a normal gourd the peephole caught the eye of the looker, and would not let it go, much as Desi's exposed bosom had locked Hiatus' own eyes in place. But with a big gourd this effect was minimal, because the whole body was caught in it.

  Suddenly they were in a strange room. There was a picture hanging on the wall showing a portrait of a man Hiatus didn't recognize. He glanced away, then back at it—and the portrait had changed. Realizing that he must be mistaken, he looked away, and to it a third time. It had changed again.

  There was a window, through which he could see rain pouring down incessantly. He looked away, and to it again, but the rain did not change. But he knew that it had not been raining outside the gourd. More strangeness.

  There was a peculiar machine directly in front of him, with a board filled with letters of the alphabet, and a screen right above it. “Oh, no!” he breathed, a shiver of dread running through him. “I recognize that device by reputation. It's Com-Pewter, the evil machine who changes reality in his vicinity, so that no one can escape.”

  “What a weird place,” Mentia remarked.

  “I think we had better get out of here before Pewter wakes and starts messing with our realities,” Hiatus said.

  “Oh, pooh,” she said. “A stupid machine can't affect a demon.”

  “I'm not sure of that. I'm leaving.” He turned and started back out of the gourd—before realizing that there was a solid wall of the room behind him. The scene had shut him in. “Uh, that is, maybe you can leave,” he said.

  “Sure.” But she remained standing beside him.

  “Go!” he said nervously. “Fade out. Pop off. You can warn the others not to enter the gourd.”

  “I can't,” she said, visibly disturbed. “I'm trying to fade, but it's not working.”

  “I was afraid of that. You're trapped too. We can't get out of this until we figure out how—and it may not be easy. The dream realm doesn't follow ordinary rules.”

  “You mean this is a dream? Stuck in a stupid room and I can't act like the demoness I am? This isn't fun.”

  “Bad dreams aren't fun. I tried to warn you.”

  “Well, then, I'll just bash my way out.” She walked to the wall, formed a triple-sized fist, and punched hard.

  Her big fist bounced off the wall harmlessly. “Owww!” she cried, jamming the fist into her mouth, which she expanded hugely for the purpose. “Mmmph owmmmmph yowmmmph!”

  “What was that?”

  She pulled the fist out with a slurpy pop. “That stupid wall hurt me!”

  “But demons don't hurt,” he reminded her.

  She looked at her big hand, which was now turning red and pulsing. “In bad dreams they do, it seems.”

  “I guess you are now subject to human limitations. Maybe there's another way out.”

  He turned back to face the picture, window, and evil machine. Pewter remained asleep, fortunately. He took a careful step to the left, avoiding the machine.

  A word appeared before him: FLOOR.

  Hiatus stared at the word. “I know it's the floor,” he said. “Why should I need a word to tell me that?”

  Mentia's hand had shrunk back to normal size, though it still looked sore. “Maybe the floor doesn't think much of your intelligence.”

  Irritated, Hiatus took another step. His foot landed on a rug. Another word appeared: RUG.

  He experimented. Whatever he touched evoked a word:

  PICTURE, WINDOW, DESK, WALL, DOOR. It was really weird.

  He tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.

  They discovered that Mentia's motions didn't bring forth the magic words. In fact she wasn't able to have any effect on this set. It ignored her completely, while keeping her trapped within it, to her i
ncreasing frustration.

  There was an envelope on the desk on which Pewter sat, but he couldn't get it open to learn what writing might be in it. There was also a small piece of paper with some cryptic names and numbers.

  There was a sound of ringing from the side. Hiatus looked in that direction, and saw that the sound came from beyond the door to another room. The one he couldn't open.

  “Look at the ceiling,” Mentia said.

  He looked. There were more words. One of them was OPEN. So he reached up and touched that word. It came away in his hand.

  He was getting a glimmer of a notion. He carried the glowing white word to the door. Sure enough, when he touched the door with it, the word faded and the door opened. It showed a small chamber with a new door that seemed to lead outside, and another to another chamber.

  But by this time the ringing had stopped.

  Time passed. They explored three rooms of this odd house, including the kitchen, where there was a big white food box that was cold inside and had a sandwich. He ate the sandwich and returned to the second room. The ringing resumed, and he saw that it was coming from some kind of device set on the wall.

  “I know what that is,” Mentia said. “It's a Mundane phone. I've heard of them. They talk.”

  “They talk?”

  “You use the loose dingus,” she explained.

  So he took the loose dingus, which dangled a cord which connected to the box. He put it to his ear. “Hi, Dug!” the dingus said.

  “I'm not Dug, I'm Hiatus,” he said.

  “Oh. Sorry. Must be a wrong number.”

  “Dug?” Mentia said. “Wasn't that the name of that Mundane youth who visited Xanth? My better half was forced to be a prospective Companion, but wasn't chosen.

  But she never saw the Mundane side of it.”

  Hiatus had heard of the Game. He realized this could be a source of information that might help him get out.

  “Maybe not,” he said. “Maybe this is the right number but the wrong person. I think I don't belong here.”

  “Yeah?” the voice said. “Who are you?”

  “I'm Hiatus. Who are you?”

  “I'm Edsel, Dug's best friend. You say Dug's not there?”

  “Edsel,” Mentia said. “That's one of the names on that note. So this must be Dug's house.”

  “Not now,” Hiatus said to the dingus. “But maybe he'll be back soon.”

  “Okay,” Edsel said. “Tell him I called.” There was a click, and then a buzzing silence.

  Hiatus put the dingus back on the device on the wall. At least he had learned something.

  In the course of further experiment he learned that Dug's girlfriend Pia had just dumped him, so he made a deal with Edsel: Pia in exchange for Ed's motorcycle. Hiatus had no idea what a motorcycle was, but the deal gave him the chance to try the game of Companions of Xanth, and he thought the game was a better place to be than this weird Mundane dream setting. A flat object arrived at his door, and Mentia figured out how to put it in the computer, because she had had a bit of experience with the real game. The screen formed a picture, and they stepped into that scene.

  And found themselves in a cave. But Grundy Golem was also there. He did a double take. “Hiatus! What are you doing here?”

  “I'm looking for the philter.”

  “What are you talking about? Don't you know this is the entry for the Companions of Xanth computer game?

  It's not for natives.” Then the golem saw Mentia. “And what are you doing, Metria? You haven't been selected as a Companion yet.”

  “I'm not Metria,” the demoness said shortly.

  “Well, you look exactly like her.”

  “Have you heard me stumble on a stupid word?”

  “No, but—”

  “I'm her worser half, Mentia. She did something disgusting, so I split. I'm a little bit crazy.”

  “You don't seem crazy, either.”

  “That's because this setting is crazy. I get perversely sane when my surroundings get crazy.”

  “Well, if you're Hiatus' Companion, get him off this set before a real Player comes.”

  Mentia became canny. “Just tell us where the philter is, and we'll be gone.”

  Grundy shook his little head. “I don't know anything about a filter. What's it for?”

  “Purifying water,” Hiatus said.

  “Then it must be out beyond the pail. Look for it there.”

  “Where's this pail?”

  “Out along the enchanted trail.” The golem gestured toward a door in the cave, which was now open.

  They went out, and followed the trail to Isthmus Village, in whose bay an evil censor ship was anchored. The folk there were grumpy, their dialogue peppered with bleeps. So they headed out into the country—and there was the pail. But when Hiatus went to pick it up, it sailed into the air and flew away toward the horizon.

  “What's going on here?” he demanded, feeling as irritable as the villagers.

  “Oh, I remember,” Mentia said. “You can't accomplish anything until you get beyond the pail. And you have to figure out how to do that. It's one of the challenges of the game.”

  “So how do I get beyond it?”

  “I'm not supposed to tell you that. You have to figure it out for yourself.”

  “But I'm not playing this stupid game!” Hiatus said.

  “I'm just trying to find the philter.”

  “That's right; I forgot.” She looked thoughtful. “Maybe I can ask the pail.”

  “You can talk to the pail?”

  “Yes. But it's an arrogant thing and won't help.”

  “Then why ask it anything?”

  “Because I can be obnoxious, when I really try.”

  Hiatus didn't understand her logic, but didn't protest.

  They walked on along the path until they caught up to the pail again. Then Hiatus waited while Mentia floated up to it.

  “Listen, pailface,” she said. “I'm a crazy demoness, and the only thing I have better to do than bug you is find the philter. Since we don't know where the philter is, I think I'll just bug you forever.”

  “You can't bug me, you nuisance,” the pail said. “You can't pick me up, and your stupid-looking friend there doesn't know how to get beyond me, so ha-ha-ha in your face.”

  “It's not my face you'll be meeting,” Mentia said. “You can't move away because of me, because I'm not the Player, so you have to remain there for it.” She adjusted her dress.

  “For what?” the pail asked derisively. “You going to kiss my pot, demoness?”

  “Not exactly.” She lifted her hem as she stood beside the bucket.

  “You going to show me your panties? You can't freak me out, demoness, because I'm not a man.”

  “We shall see.” She hoisted up her skirt and squatted over the pail. Hiatus clapped his hands to his face, just barely in time to avoid seeing her panties.

  “Hey!” the pail cried, alarmed. “You can't do that!”

  “I can't? I'm going to make a good effort, though.”

  There was the sound of panties coming down.

  “AEEEEE!” the pail screamed. “All right, stop this asinine display. I'll tell you how to find the philter.”

  “I don't know,” she said. “I think I'd rather see what it takes to fill you to overflowing.”

  “Enough of this crap!” the pail cried desperately.

  “You're a demoness! The philter is a demon. You know how to fetch a demon.”

  She paused. “Why so I do,” she agreed. “Demons can be conjured. Very well, I'll spare you my effort, reluctantly.” She straightened up and let her clothing re-form around her.

  Hiatus walked up to her—and immediately the pail sailed up and away. That didn't matter. “We can conjure the philter?” he asked.

  “Yes, any demon can be conjured. You just have to know its true name.”

  “So what's the philter's true name?”

  She shrugged. “I never knew the philter personal
ly. The true name is a demon's most private thing. Maybe one of the other parties will have learned it.”

  Hiatus nodded. “I think we have accomplished something. Let's get out of here and rejoin the others.”

  She looked around. “I'll be glad to. How do you get out of a dream?”

  He remembered that demons didn't dream, so she wouldn't know. Actually he wasn't too sure himself. Usually his dreams ended when he woke. But how could he wake from this one? “Sometimes a dream gets scary, and the fright wakes the dreamer,” he said. “Since I'm the mortal here, I must be the dreamer; if I wake, we should both be out of it.”

  “Shall I make a face like this to frighten you?” she asked, taking her hands and stretching her face into a grotesque shape.

  “No, I know who you are, so I'm not frightened.”

  “Maybe if I show you my panties.” She reached for the hem of her skirt.

  “No, don't do that! It might freak me out, but maybe not wake me.”

  “How about jumping off a high cliff?”

  “No, that would kill me.”

  “In a dream?”

  He reconsidered. “That's right—falling in a dream scares you awake without killing you. Very well, let's go jump off a cliff.”

  They walked on until they found a cliff beside the path.

  It dropped off into a crevice of a valley. “Does that scare you?” Mentia asked.

  “It sure does!” He backed away from the brink. “I don't think I have the nerve to jump.”

  “No problem.” She wrapped her arms around him, lifted him, and flung him over the brink.

  “AEEEEE!” he screamed as he plummeted.

  “Interesting,” the demoness remarked, appearing beside him. “That's exactly what the pail said when it viewed my pale posterior.”

  “But the pail wasn't about to die of fright,” he gasped, trying to grab on to her to slow his fall.

  She eluded him. “No, it was about to die of disgust. I told you I could be obnoxious when I tried.”

  “Agreed!” He grabbed for her again, but his clutching hands passed right through her image without contact.

  The rocky ground was rushing up at him. Hiatus savored one more instant of utter terror, then landed—

  And found himself sitting on the ground near the palace of the city of Hinge. He was awake, unharmed.

  “It worked!” Mentia said, pleased. “We must do that again sometimes. Dreams are fun.”