“But suppose I accede to the King’s wish. Won’t that destroy your chance?”
“Not necessarily. The King can be fickle. He may tire of you before too long, as he has with other prospects, and then you and the children will go to the trolls anyway, or be served for dinner. But this would delay my suit yet again. I would rather be rid of you at the outset.”
“You might avoid complications by simply enabling us to escape this castle.”
“I would be tempted, but for two things: I would not survive the King’s rage, and escape is impossible.”
“We broke into the castle. Why can’t we break out of it?”
“Because you were supposed to come in. The dragons herded you here; didn’t you notice? But when you try to get out—the King knows you will try, which is why he grants you that first day for the effort—you will run afoul of the illusion maze. Then you will come to understand the folly of even thinking of escaping the will of the King.”
“Illusion maze?”
“Perhaps it has to be experienced to be properly appreciated. But I can give you a hint: if you encounter a wall, it may not actually be there, so you will waste your effort trying to get around or through it. If you set out across a level floor, it may conceal a pit of acid. You will be able to trust nothing you see. If a troll comes at you, it may or may not be real. Even if you could clearly see the whole of it, it’s a maze: you would have trouble finding your way through it. So by morning you would be hopelessly lost. And of course the only real gate is guarded by alert dragons; there will be no exit there.”
“That is a good hint,” Astrid agreed.
“You may prefer not even to make the attempt. Simply submit to the King’s will and it will be easier for you, and much easier for the children. If you are really obliging, and actually give him some pleasure, you could have a good life, you and the children, for some time. I will simply have to endure it.”
So they would both be in misery, while Astrid suffered what the Lady desired, ironically. “I will consider it.”
“Have a pleasant afternoon and evening,” the Lady said tersely as she departed.
Astrid pondered. Her prettiness in human form had gotten her into the usual difficulty, and this trap was more sophisticated than that of the fiend. But there had to be a way out. The children’s sense of the correct path had not faltered, and she believed it remained valid. But at times like this her faith was sorely beset.
The children woke and came out to join her. “We had a dream,” Squid said.
“About a mean old queen dragon who came to threaten you,” Win said.
“But you weren’t scared,” Myst said.
It occurred to Astrid that here in the Dragon King’s castle they would be well advised to pretend they didn’t know that their dialogue was not private. “Let’s play a game,” she murmured. “Do you know about crossed fingers?”
“Sometimes we hate you,” Firenze said, crossing his fingers.
“That’s it,” Astrid agreed. She crossed her own fingers. “Of course no dragon queen threatened me. She was perfectly reasonable, in her view. She did have a forceful case to make. I need to consider it quite seriously.”
They smiled, understanding.
There was another knock. Astrid went to the door. There was a handsome man in a kingly robe. “I believe you know who I am,” he said.
“I believe I do,” Astrid agreed. “Come into my boudoir, Dragon King.”
The children faded into the background, visible but not intrusive, the very models of docile youth. They knew how to play a role.
“I would like to make you my consort and recognize your children, with their several talents, as heirs to important offices in the Kingdom. It would be a better life than you are likely to find elsewhere.”
“I talked with the Dragon Lady,” Astrid said. “She was persuasive. But I am as yet uncertain that this is a life I wish to have, or that the children should have. We are only passing through this vicinity on our way back to our home in Xanth proper.”
“The only exit to Xanth proper is through the Dungeons and the Mad Birds domain, and thence through the Playground,” the King said. “I understand that has been shut off.”
“We hope to find another exit.”
“We know of none. I fear you will not be able to depart Storage for some time. In the interim I would dearly like to have your favor, lovely basilisk. You have demonstrated qualities to be admired in any creature, and should make an excellent Queen.”
“You understand that my direct gaze is lethal, and my ambiance intoxicating and also lethal in fairly short order? I am not a very embraceable creature.”
“The embrace I contemplate can be accomplished in seconds. That should suffice. Not even a kiss is required. Thereafter we would sleep apart.”
“Assuming I am amenable.”
“Assuming,” he agreed with another smile. “Please say you will consider it.”
“I will consider it,” Astrid said. “But I have not made up my mind.”
“We shall talk again tomorrow,” the King said, smiling as he departed.
Astrid was privately amazed. The Dragon King was so personable and polite! But he had made sure she understood that his offer was not to be denied. There was sharp steel under that velvet.
“I think he wants to kiss you,” Squid said. “Even if he says he just wants a hug.”
“Something like that,” Astrid agreed. “But he also wants us to stay here, and not go home.” She crossed her fingers where they could see. “That might not be so bad.”
“It’s a nice castle,” Firenze said, fingers crossed. “And it might be fun having all those servants helping us.”
“Instead of struggling through more dangers,” Santo agreed, fingers crossed.
“Well, let’s think about it, and sleep on it,” Astrid said. “Then in the morning we can decide.”
“After a good night’s sleep,” Firenze agreed.
“In any event, there’s no point in even thinking about leaving the castle,” Astrid said. “It is an illusion maze.” She uncrossed her fingers and described it. Then she crossed them again. “So I don’t want any of you trying to find any way out. That would only get us all in trouble. We would not want to annoy our gracious hosts.”
“We won’t,” the children agreed, all fingers crossed.
“I’m glad we have that understanding,” Astrid concluded. “Sometimes you can be pretty annoying brats.” Her fingers were plainly crossed.
“And sometimes you smell bad,” Squid said. The others laughed.
Then the children joined hands. They had a serious escape route to figure out. Astrid hoped they would succeed.
The rest of the day was quiet. The children ran around, played, napped, had a sumptuous dinner and finally, after routine fussing, went to bed. But Astrid could not relax. The Dragon King knew the talents of the children, having seen them in action against his dragons, and surely the castle and its denizens would be prepared to foil them. How could they come up with an escape that the minions of the dragon would not balk? She believed in the children, she had confidence in them, and yet she couldn’t help doubting. And if they did not succeed in escaping, what could she do except agree to the King’s demands? She couldn’t stand to see any child tortured.
Well, what would be would be. Tonight would be the test. The King expected them to try to escape, and to fail. If they did fail, he well might achieve his desire. The thought appalled her, but she was a realist.
As darkness closed, the children quietly roused. No words were spoken; Firenze simply took Astrid’s hand. He led her to the bathroom, where there was a laundry chute. They would go down that.
Fortunately the chute was narrow enough so that they could push against its sides to let themselves down slowly. It was dark, but Astrid could see reasonably wel
l in the dark, as could Squid and Myst. The boys seemed to be able to manage by feel. Astrid suspected that they had fathomed the route in their Communing, so they knew where they were going regardless of any illusion. Most of the illusion was nullified by the fact that they weren’t using their eyes anyway.
They crossed what must be the laundry room, now deserted, and came to what might be a large air-circulating vent. This was a thoroughly modern castle; it seemed the Dragon King wanted only the best. They crawled along the tubing. Then they paused as Firenze made a faint light with his head, so that Santo could see to make two small holes. Then they lifted out a loosened panel and climbed down into a cellar region. Astrid was glad the children knew where they were going, because she would have been thoroughly lost even if she had known the route.
Now they came to a lighted but deserted cave, perhaps below the castle foundation, never filled in. It was crawling with nickelpedes. But the children walked right through it. The nickelpedes were an illusion! No one in his right mind would have gone here. How had the children known?
Then Myst dissolve into fog and floated toward a wall—and through it. That, too, was an illusion. Squid assumed her natural form and followed her, feeling the floor with her tentacles. Between the two of them, they were having no trouble with the illusion. The two moved slowly onward, and the others followed them, silently.
They came to a blank wall. Was it an illusion? No, this one was solid. Myst sifted through a crack in it, then returned to explore another crack. She paused by the third crack: this was the one.
Santo approached the wall and focused. A hole appeared in it. Astrid was glad she had seen to it that he got good rest so that he was able to hole stone without soon tiring. The hole enlarged until it was big enough for them to crawl through. They did.
The other side was simply another section of the foundation. They walked along the rough passage formed by supportive walls until they came to another dead end. Then Myst went to work again, locating the exact place it could be safely holed, and Santo holed it. They crawled through.
This time there was water beyond. The back of the castle was built up from a moat or river, as some were. Was there a moat monster?
There was. A huge greenish snoot appeared. Firenze’s head started to heat, and Santo oriented to make a deadly hole.
“Don’t.” It was a voice behind them.
They whirled. There were two figures: Wesla Werewolf and Goldie Goblin. Astrid removed her glasses.
“Don’t!” Goldie repeated. “We’re not stopping you. We want to escape too. We followed you without telling, or there would have been an army of trolls here now. We can help you. Just let us go home once we’re clear of here.”
Astrid hesitated. Could they trust these two, or was this merely a tactic to delay them while trolls closed in?
“We’ll show you,” Goldie said. “We’ll tell Moatie you’re friends.”
Beside her, Win nodded. They children knew.
“Do it,” Astrid said tightly.
The two forged out into the shallow water. “Moatie!” Goldie called. “We’re friends. You remember us. We gave you treats, dropping them from the turret.”
The monster eyed them. It nodded. Then it sank silently back into the deeper water.
“Where do we go from here?” Astrid asked the children.
The children linked hands. “We wait for the Dragon King,” Firenze said.
“We what?” she asked, startled.
“Please don’t turn us in to him!” Goldie begged, terrified.
“Of course we won’t,” Astrid said.
“His spies saw where we escaped,” Santo said.
“Too late to stop us,” Squid said.
“He’s mad,” Win said.
“He’ll try to burn us all up,” Myst said.
“That will be better than if he captures us,” Wesla said seriously.
“So why are we waiting for him?” Astrid demanded, exasperated.
“You’ll see,” Firenze said with the type of smile normally seen on the snoot of an attacking dragon.
“They know what they’re doing,” Astrid told the goblin and werewolf. “We have to trust them.”
The two did not look greatly reassured.
“What are you doing?” Astrid asked the children.
“We have to fight the dragon,” Santo said. “But my talent is tired from making holes through stone.”
“I can dive to save myself, but that wouldn’t save anyone else,” Squid said.
“My mist would just evaporate in the fire,” Myst said.
“And my hot head wouldn’t stop long-distance strafing,” Firenze said.
“So it’s up to me,” Win said.
Astrid realized that Win had spoken out of turn, letting the others give their reasons. But all of them had known. “Myst will fend off the dragon,” she told Goldie and Wesla. She hoped.
There was a light in the night sky. It was a streak of fire emitted by a huge dragon. The Dragon King was coming.
Firenze and Santo took hold of Win’s arms and held her up against the castle wall, facing outward. “Get down,” Squid said. “Hang on.”
Astrid, Myst, Goldie, and Wesla got down in the cold water and grabbed onto outcroppings of the foundation.
A wind started. Astrid realized that it was from Win. But her wind never had any backlash; it really originated from her body. Why were the boys holding her?
The dragon evidently spied them in the gloom. He oriented, coming in for a strafing run. A terrible jet of fire shot toward them. The goblin and werewolf quailed.
The wind leaped into gale force. The fire wavered and bent aside.
Then the wind became hurricane force. It blasted at the dragon, causing him to pause in the air despite flying vigorously forward. But he was determined, and put on more power, resuming his advance.
The wind climbed to tornado force. The shaft of air from Win was a straight column, but the air around it was still, and where the two touched there were tight screws of friction. The surface of the water was whipped into a lather by the surrounding turbulence. Spume splashed into the wall, drenching the children there.
Now Astrid saw why the boys were holding Win. It was to prevent her from being blown away by the whirlwind!
The dragon was literally blown out of the sky. He fell tumbling, his fire trailing in a corkscrew of light. He splashed into the water.
But he wasn’t finished. He righted himself, there in the roiling cloud of fog, lifted his snoot, and inhaled.
“Dead ahead,” Squid said. “Down.”
The boys aimed Win ahead and down. The spear of air shot directly at the dragon, blasting him out of the water. He flew backward, spinning out of control, disappearing into the darkness, leaving only a corkscrewing pattern of dissipating fire.
Now at last the wind diminished. Win had done the job, but now she hung loosely between the boys, unconscious. She had given her all.
Myst scrambled up and across to hug Win. “She’s all right,” she reported. “Just pooped.”
“We have to move on before he recovers,” Firenze said.
“We have maybe fifteen minutes,” Santo said.
“Let me help,” Wesla said. “I can carry her.” She got up, went to the girls, and picked Win up, cradling her like a baby.
“We never saw the like,” Goldie said, awed. “Such a little girl.”
“They are remarkable children, all of them,” Astrid said. “I knew I couldn’t let the dragon have them.”
“This way,” Squid said, swimming in her natural form.
“He will come after us,” Wesla said.
“My home is not far distant,” Goldie said. “We’ll be safe there.”
“We don’t trust male goblins,” Astrid protested.
“We have a
queen. She’ll grant you visitor status.”
“Is this feasible?” Astrid asked.
“It’s on our escape route,” Myst said.
It was feasible. They slogged on through the shallow water. Soon they reached a footpath leading out of the water to a hole in the adjacent mountain.
“Not there!” Goldie said. “That’s a wormhole.”
Indeed, the blind snoot of a giant worm poked from it. They quickly bypassed it and continued on around the mountain.
A light showed behind them. The dragon had recovered and was questing. “We need to get under cover soon,” Astrid said.
“There!” Goldie said.
It was another hole, this one guarded by a truculent-looking male goblin. “Fresh meat!” he exclaimed, seeing them.
“Goofus, it’s me, Goldie, escaped from the Dragon Castle,” Goldie told him. “With friends. The dragon is after us! Tell the Queen!”
Goofus, recognizing her, disappeared into the hole. They followed him into the mountain as the Dragon King spied them and flew down. But almost immediately a squadron of armed goblin males charged out, eager to do battle with the dragon. They had long spears, water bombs, and broad heavily insulated shields.
Astrid and the children collapsed in a warm cave. They were safe. For the moment.
Chapter 10:
Gotcha!
They had hardly gotten settled before the Queen arrived, identified by her crown and royal robe. Her hair was a golden yellow mane, unusual for a goblin. She immediately oriented on Astrid. “Are you the basilisk? I have heard good things of you via the grapevine.” She held up a grape to illustrate that it was literal.
“I am,” Astrid agreed cautiously, hoping this was not more mischief.
“I am Queen Golden Goblin. Welcome to Goblin Annex.”
“I am Astrid Basilisk-Cockatrice. Goldie said it would be all right to come here. We do not man to intrude.”
“We seldom recover captives of the Dragon King alive. Goldie has been battered and ill-used, but she is alive and should recover her spirit in time. She escaped because of you. We appreciate that.”
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