Night Mare

by Piers Anthony

  "You are some mare, Imbri!" he said as the castle came into sight. They were just in time; dawn was threatening; had it arrived while they were in the gourd, they would have been trapped within the World of Night for the day. Imbri's night powers existed only at night, as always.

  They entered the castle. Queen Iris met them. "Thank fate you're here, Bink; we just discovered King Humfrey has been taken. You--"

  "I am King," Bink said with surprising certainty. He had assimilated Imbri's information readily and now was taking hold in a much firmer fashion than Imbri had expected. Bink had been a kind of nonperson in Xanth, considered to be a man without magic and therefore held in a certain veiled contempt; that contempt had been undeserved. Imbri suspected that even Grundy and Chameleon and the day horse expected little of Bink; already it was evident that he would surprise them. Xanth's recent Kings had not lasted long, but each had shown competence and courage in the crisis. Yet how long could this continue, in the face of the terrible enchantment that persisted in striking each King down?

  They went to the room where the enchanted Kings were laid out. The Zombie Master and Good Magician Humfrey had been added to the collection. Chet and Chem Centaur had evidently been out to the baobab tree and carried in the latest victim.

  Irene remained by her husband. She looked up. "Bink!" she said, rising and going to him. "Did you know that he-- we--"

  Bink put his arm around her. "The mare Imbri told me everything. Congratulations! I'm only sorry you did not have more time together."

  "We had no time at all!" she complained, making a moue. "The Kingship monopolized him. Then he was ensorcelled." She choked off, her eyes flicking toward her supine husband.

  "Somehow we'll find the counterspell," Bink said reassuringly.

  "They say you--that it can't happen to you--"

  "It seems my secret is out at last. Your father knew it always. That is why he sent me on some of the most awkward magical investigations. But I am not invulnerable; the Mundanes represent as much of a threat to me as to anyone else. But perhaps I can deal with this mysterious enemy who has enchanted these four Kings. I shall go immediately to the baobab tree and try to use Humfrey's bag of tricks to stop the Nextwave."

  "You seem remarkably well informed," Queen Iris remarked.

  "Yes. Only a man of my talent can safely use Humfrey's spells. Only those spells can stop the Mundanes at this point--which, of course, is the reason Humfrey was ensorcelled before he could use them. I will use them, and I want that enchanter to come to me. His magic won't work--and then I'll be able to identify him. That's why Humfrey thought I might break the chain of enchantments--if I can prevent the Mundanes from taking me out physically."

  "Then it is victory or real death for you," Irene said. "Yes, of course. This is why Magician Humfrey could not foresee my future; my talent prevents him, and neither he nor I can handle the Mundane element as a matter of divination." He paused. "It is odd, however, that he, the most knowledgeable of men, was taken out by enchantment, not by a Mundane weapon."

  "He knew it was coming," Imbri sent. "He said he was overlooking something important, perhaps because he couldn't foresee his own future." That was as much as she could impart without abridging her promise not to reveal the ignominious nature of the Good Magician's fall-- though it did not seem ignominious to her. Obviously the enemy enchanter had waited till Humfrey was alone, then struck stealthily. The shame should attach to the enchanter, not to Humfrey.

  "Take me there," Bink told her. "And the rest of you-- let it be known that I am alone at the baobab tree. I want the enemy enchanter to get the news." He looked down at his enchanted son. "I will set things right for you. Dor. I promise. And for the others who so bravely served. The enchanter shall undo his mischief." Bink's hand touched the hilt of the sword he wore with a certain ominous significance. Imbri had not thought of him as a man of violence, but she realized now that he would not hesitate to do whatever he felt was required to accomplish his purpose.

  Imbri took him to the baobab. Chem Centaur was there, guarding the Good Magician's spells. Everything seemed undisturbed.

  "How was he found?" King Bink asked.

  "He was sitting on the floor here, holding this bottle," Chem said, picking up a small red one. "He must have been setting it up with the others when--"

  "Thank you," Bink said, taking the bottle. "You may trot back to Castle Roogna--no, just one moment." He popped the cork.

  Red vapor swirled out. "Horseman!" the Good Magician's voice whispered. Then the vapor dissipated, leaving silence.

  "He bottled his own voice!" Chem exclaimed.

  "Now we know who enchanted him," Bink said. "The Horseman. Humfrey promised to tell us who, and he did-- just before he was taken himself."

  "Beware the Horseman!" Imbri sent in a nervous dreamlet. "That was his earlier warning!"

  "It suggests the Horseman is near," Bink said. "That is what I want. He will come to me when I am alone." He waved Chem away. "Humfrey was true to his promise. He has produced the key information. Go inform the others. I think we are on the way to breaking the chain. At least we now know the meaning of the two prophecies. We know whom to stop and why."

  "I don't like this," Chem said, but she trotted obediently out of the tree.

  "I remember when she was a foal," Bink remarked. "Cute little thing, always making mental maps of the surroundings. She's certainly a fine-looking filly now!" He turned to Imbri. "I said I would be alone, but I wasn't thinking of you. I hope you don't mind remaining, though I know you fear the Horseman."

  "I don't fear the Horseman," Imbri protested. "It's the day horse who fears him. If that horrible man comes near me, I'll put a hind hoof in his face and leave my signature on the inside of his skull."

  "Good enough," the Bink agreed with a grim smile. "But it may be better to leave him to me, as he is obviously no Mundane, and you may be vulnerable to his magic. What does he look like?"

  Imbri projected a dream picture of the Horseman. She was shaking with abrupt rage. Of course the man was no Mundane! He had deliberately deceived her so she would not know in what manner he was a threat to Xanth. And she had allowed herself to be fooled! This was the sort of indignity Humfrey must have felt, overlooking the obvious.

  "That's very good, Imbri. You have a nice talent there. If you weren't a night mare, it would be a double talent-- dream projection and the ability to dematerialize at night. But I suppose both are really part of your nature, not considered talents at all." He shook his head. "Magic is funny stuff; I have never been certain of its ramifications. Whenever I understand it, some new aspect appears, and I realize that I don't understand it at all."

  Imbri found herself liking this man in much the way she liked his wife Chameleon. He was a nice person, no snob, intelligent and practical, with a certain unpretentious honesty. "Magic seems natural enough to me," she ventured. "What is so hard to understand about it?"

  "For one thing, the distribution and definition of magic talents," he said. "For centuries we men believed that all creatures either had magic talents or were themselves magical. Thus men did magic, while dragons were magic. Then we discovered that some centaurs could do magic, too. So we have a magical species performing magic, fudging the definition. Now we have you night mares bridging the definition also. If we assume you are natural horses who possess magic talent, we run afoul of the double-talent problem, for only one talent goes to any one person. We had thought every talent was different, but then we discovered the curse fiends, who all have the same talent--but at least that does not violate the one-talent-per-person limit. But you--"

  "I see the problem," she agreed. "All night mares can phase out and project dreams. Maybe a creature can have two talents."

  "Or a magical creature, who phases through objects at night, can have the single talent of sending dreams," he said. "We can make it fit our present definitions--barely-- but the suspicion remains that someday we will discover some form of magic that does not.
Consider this Horseman: he's obviously a man with the ability to ensorcell other men. That's not remarkable in itself; my father Roland can stun people, and, of course. King Trent transformed them. But how does the Horseman get around so handily without being observed? Does he have a second talent, perhaps similar to yours of the night? We don't know, but must be prepared for that possibility."

  "Now I understand your doubt," she said. "Magic is more complicated than I thought."

  "I would like you to review your knowledge of the whereabouts of the Horseman each time a King was enchanted," Bink continued. "Obviously he was there to do his foul deed, but he has also been associated with the Mundanes when they were far distant. The manner of his travel may give us some hint how to balk him. He must be a man of Xanth, helping the Mundanes for personal advantage. Evidently they made him second in command in exchange for his help, but he does not help them too much. He let you escape them, knowing you were helping Xanth, and that would have the effect of evening the contest and making his service more valuable."

  "The rogue!" Imbri sent emphatically, with the image of the moon colliding violently with the sun and showering Xanth with fragments of burning cheese. "If the Mundanes and Xanthians destroy each other, he can take over himself!"

  "Such is the way of rogues," King Bink agreed. "His power is to banish the minds of people, but it may not be inherent in him. Perhaps he has a bottle full of minds, the same way Good Magician Humfrey has bottles of everything else. Maybe it is the bottle that does the magic, sucking in the Kings. But surely he had to approach his victims to do this. We must not assume we know the precise nature of his magic."

  Imbri concentrated. She had actually met the Horseman only twice--once near Castle Roogna, just before King Trent was taken, and once in Hasbinbad's camp in northern Xanth. She had not seen him when King Dor was taken, or when the Zombie Master went, though it was obvious in retrospect that he had been the man in the tree.

  "So he could have been there with the Mundane army, then," Bink said. "The Mundanes were not far away, just across the river, while King Dor slept. You did not see the Horseman because he was hiding, skulking around, waiting for his chance."

  Imbri had to agree. In the confused situation of the battlefield, it would have been easy to sneak up close to the King's tent at night.

  "And the next time, the Zombie Master was in the field, too," King Bink persisted.

  Imbri reviewed the scene for him, showing how the Zombie Master had been sleeping, enjoying a dream Imbri had brought him. How Grundy had tracked a man to a river and lost him, after the King had been taken.

  "So we know he does not have to touch his victim physically," Bink concluded. "He can be a short distance away, perhaps out of sight. That's an important point--no direct visual contact needed. He could have come here to this tree and hidden in a recess; perhaps he was here when you were and simply waited until Magician Humfrey was alone. It could have happened soon after you departed. How many more of Humfrey's spells have been set out since then?"

  This was a most methodical approach! Imbri studied the bottles and boxes, trying to remember how many had been out of the bag before. "Not many more," she said.

  "The Horseman wouldn't have had reason to travel far in the night," Bink continued. "Though I doubt he remained here in the tree. For one thing, he did not disturb Humfrey's spells. Not even the bottle that named him-- surely a prime target! He must have been nervous about discovery and not delayed one moment after doing his deed. That suggests he can not enchant someone who is on guard, or perhaps can take only one person at a time, so must catch his victim alone and may be vulnerable for a period thereafter. So he left quickly, lest someone else arrive on the scene. Smash the Ogre's little wife Tandy is like that; once she stuns someone with a tantrum, she can not do so again for some time."

  Again Imbri had to agree. It made her nervous to think that the dread Horseman lurked close by. By daylight she could not dematerialize, and that increased her nervousness.

  "You surely need to rest and graze, Imbri," Bink said. "Go out and relax, but check on me every hour or so. The pseudonymphs aren't due to bring the Mundanes here until noon. I think the Horseman will try to strike before then, for, he surely knows these spells of Humfrey's are dangerous to his allies, the Mundanes. If I have miscalculated in any way, I'll need you to carry the message to Castle Roogna."

  Imbri nodded, both reassured and worried. King Bink was several times the man she had first taken him for--but it seemed that the Horseman was similarly more devious. She went out to graze, but the grass didn't taste very good. She watched for the possible approach of the Horseman, fearing that he would somehow sneak past unobserved, as it seemed he had done before. The Horseman had been making fools of them all so far!

  Every hour she checked, but King Bink was all right. Noon came, and all remained well. Imbri was almost disappointed; she certainly wished no ill to the King, but she hated this tension of waiting. Suppose Bink were not invulnerable to the enchantment? Or suppose the Horseman wanted to reduce the force of Mundanes some more, keeping the sides even, so planned to let King Bink fight a while, using the spells, before taking him out? Or had the Horseman already tried and failed, unbeknownst to them? Where did things really stand?

  Right on schedule, the first of the floating nymphs arrived, hotly pursued by a slavering Mundane.

  Imbri had relayed all she had learned about the Good Magician's spells. Now Bink picked up one of the unidentified ones. "Stand well clear, Imbri," he warned. "This spell will not hurt me, but it might hurt you. I'm going to experiment while I'm not hard-pressed. I can still use my sword if a single Mundane comes at me. When too many come, I'll draw on the heavy stuff."

  Imbri stood back. It seemed to her he was taking a considerable risk--but she realized that he was immune to magical danger and knew it, so could afford to gamble in a way no other person dared. This was safer for him than trying to take on all the Mundanes physically! Perhaps that was another reason Good Magician Humfrey had publicized Bink's secret talent. Bink was the only one who could safely play with unknown killer-spells, so had to be the one to succeed Humfrey himself and had to use those spells when no friends were close enough to be hurt by them. It was amazing how carefully Humfrey had planned every detail, his own failure included.

  The nymph floated up, looking devastatingly winsome by human standards. Imbri had seen the creatures as they were first inflating, dead white and bulging. The night air must have done them good, for now there was color and bounce to match the buoyancy, and intricate little jiggles in private places as they moved. No wonder the Mundane was in sweaty pursuit!

  Now the Mundane spied King Bink. "Oh, no, you don't! She's mine!" he cried, drawing his sword. "I chased that divine dream half the night and day!"

  "In all fairness, I must tell you two things," Bink said. "First, the nymph is not real. She is a shape from a spell, with no mind at all--"

  "I don't care where she's from or how smart she is!" the Mundane said, licking his brute lips. "I'm going to give her the time of my life--right after I get rid of you." He advanced, sword poised.

  "Second, I am holding the spell of a Magician," Bink continued, backing off. "It may hurt you or even kill you, if--"

  The Mundane leaped, his sword swinging viciously. Bink popped the cork on the vial, pointing the opening at him.

  A green fireball shot out, expanding as it moved. It was head-sized as it struck the Mundane in the chest.

  The man screamed. The fire burned into his chest with terrible ferocity, consuming it. In a moment the Mundane fell, his chest mostly missing.

  Bink stared, looking faint. "Humfrey wasn't playing idle games," he whispered. "He was set to destroy the enemy army!"

  Imbri agreed. That had been one deadly weapon! "But it was a choice between the enemy or you," she sent in a supportive dreamlet, glad she had taken the advice to stand well clear. "He tried to kill you when you tried to be reasonable with him."

&nb
sp; "Yes. I have steeled myself to that," Bink said. "Still, the stomach is weak. I have seldom killed before, and most Mundanes are not like him. They can be quite civilized ...though I admit this one wasn't."

  Already a second pseudonymph was coming, leading another brute Mundane. Bink snatched up another vial. "Halt, Mundane!" he cried. "I have slain your companion!"

  "Then I'll slay you!" the Mundane cried. He carried a bow; now he brought out an arrow and nocked it, taking aim.

  Bink opened and pointed the vial, as he had the first.

  Something sailed out of it as the arrow flew toward him. The arrow struck the object and went astray, missing Bink's head by the span of a hand and plunking into the wall behind him.

  Imbri looked at the thing skewered on the shaft of the arrow. It was a bean sandwich. The Mundane had just shot Humfrey's lunch.

  The Mundane stared for a moment. Then he emitted a great bellow of a laugh. "You're fulla beans!"

  Bink took a third vial. As the Mundane drew another arrow and aimed, Bink pointed and opened it.

  This time smoke issued from the container. It shaped into a huge face. The face laughed. "Ho ho ho!" it roared. It was laughing gas.

  But the Mundane's sense of humor was limited to laughter at others, not at himself. He shot an arrow through the face at Bink, barely missing. He drew a third. Imbri grew more nervous; these spells were not doing the job reliably.

  Bink gave up on the spells for the moment. He ducked through the smoke, drawing his sword, and charged at the Mundane.

  The Mundane, realizing that his bow was useless at close quarters, hastily drew his own sword. The two met in personal combat--but the Mundane was much younger and faster.

  Imbri stepped forward, knowing she could not stand by and let the King be killed. But as the laughing gas dissipated, a third Mundane appeared, carrying a spear. He closed on the other two people, seeking an opening to dispatch the King.

  Imbri charged across, spun about, and flung out a kick with her two hind legs. This caught the spearman in the chest and smashed him back. Imbri knew she had either killed the man or hurt him so badly he would not fight again for a long time. She now had blood on her hooves.