“I’m sorry,” he said contritely.
“Don’t be! I need a male friend I can talk candidly with without having to worry that I’ll turn him on and ruin it.”
At last he caught on. “Living men want to summon the stork with you!”
“They do indeed. As you know, I can tell anything about anything alive. But when I’m with a man, and all he can think about is getting into my panties, I can’t relax. His lustful thoughts override all else.”
“You talent means you can’t ignore his notions. I’m sorry I didn’t realize. You do have a problem.”
“But I don’t have that problem with you. You don’t care whether I’m clothed or naked, far or near. You just want to help me because you’re my friend.”
“Yes.”
She kissed his skull. “I value that beyond words, Picka.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Because we’ll be going out into the wilderness, camping out, sharing dangers. You’ll be seeing me clothed and bare, maybe carrying me soaking wet out of deep water. And I’ll never have to worry about what you’re thinking.”
“Well, you can’t tell what I’m thinking anyway, because I’m not alive.”
“Which is why I needed to verify that you truly don’t desire my flesh.”
“I truly don’t,” he agreed. “But I do crave your friendship.”
“And you have it.”
“If that was what you wanted to talk about, now you can return to your room and get some sleep.”
“Actually I had in mind to ask you what the Good Magician talked to you about. But then I realized that this was more important.”
“He just gave us a spell to make us alive for an hour, in case we ever needed it.”
“Why would you want to be alive?”
“To conceal our natures. I hope we never have to use those spells.”
“I hope so too. If you became a live man, it would ruin our friendship.”
Surprised, Picka worked it out. “Because then I might see you as an interesting woman.”
“Not might; would. You would desire me.”
“If you say so.”
“Oh Picka, I hope you never have occasion to have your doubt destroyed.”
“I hope so too.” But he remained curious about one thing. “Surely you could get a palace guard, maybe a swordsman, or a swordswoman, to accompany you on your Quest. Why bother with walking skeletons or mundane pets?”
“I want friends, not guards. And if along the way I meet my ideal man, as the Good Magician indicates I will, I want to be with companions who understand and will not interfere.”
“That makes sense.”
“And I want to be with folk who understand me without condemning me.”
“We don’t condemn you! Why would you think that?”
“Because you know I’m jealous of my sister. She nailed her man, she married up, she has a son. I was left behind. We were always even. Now she’s ahead. I hate that.”
“But she does not seem happy.”
“True. I think she misses our relatively carefree days of independence. I don’t think I’d want her type of marriage. But still I’m jealous.”
“But you were also jealous of the Good Magician seeing us instead of you. And of my being the protagonist.”
“Outside I’m a princess. Inside I’m a female bleep. You do understand. Do you condemn me?”
“No, of course not. You’re entitled to your living emotions.”
“There you are. You are a very understanding, even-tempered person, Picka. You know me for a girl with private spites, yet you accept me anyway.”
“Well, skeletons lack the passions of living folk. We don’t have glands.”
“Precisely.”
“Do you still mind my being the protagonist?”
“Oh, it irks me. But if I can’t be it, then I’m satisfied for you to be it, Picka. I’m sure you won’t abuse your position.”
“I hope I don’t. I’ve never been a protagonist before. I’m afraid I might mess it up.”
She laughed, relaxing. “I don’t think it’s possible to mess up something like that. You’re just the observer. Just please don’t leave me out of the story.”
“I won’t,” he promised. “Now you really need to sleep, because tomorrow may be arduous.”
“Yes.” She got up and started toward the door. Then she changed her mind. “I’ll sleep here.”
“You are welcome. I don’t need the bed.”
“I know. I want more than your bed. Humor me.”
“Skeletons don’t have much humor either.”
She lay down on the bed. “Lie down beside me. Put your arms about me. I will feel safe in your embrace.”
She did not feel safe? Picka joined her on the bed and put his arms about her. She snuggled against his bones and went to sleep.
It was no burden to hold her, as skeletons did not tire. But he wondered. Why was she nervous about this Quest? Did she know something he and Joy’nt did not? Or was she simply dubious about trying to pin down a traveling castle? Regardless, he and Joy’nt would support her. After all, they were friends.
Picka’s mind drifted. In his futile fancy he and Dawn were more than friends, and the holding was more than comfort. It was the beginning of romance.
He snapped out of it, knowing the notion was ridiculous. And saw a surprised day mare standing there. There was a girl on the mare’s back. He could see them because he derived from their realm.
“What are you doing bringing a daydream to a skeleton?” Picka asked.
“Oh,” the girl said. “My fault. I’m Debbie, and I got to ride a day mare for one day while she delivers daydreams. This one was supposed to go to a living couple. We must have gotten the address confused. I’m sorry.”
“That’s all right,” Picka said, relieved. “It was a nice daydream, until I realized that it couldn’t be for me.”
“We’ll get it right next time,” Debbie said. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Picka said as mare and girl vanished.
Dawn stirred. “What was that?” she asked sleepily.
“Nothing,” Picka said. That was true, but there was that in him that regretted it.
Belatedly he realized that the girl and mare had gotten more than the address confused. They had tried to deliver a daydream by night. That was a really curious mistake. True, he had been awake, because he never slept. But what could account for a foul-up like that?
* * *
In the morning Dawn woke, went to the pitcher on the table in the corner of the room, poured water into the basin there, stripped, fetched a washcloth, washed her copious flesh, found a towel and dried. Then she looked around. “I forgot my clothing!” she said. “Picka, would you fetch it for me? I don’t dare go out and risk being seen bare.”
“But I’m seeing you bare.”
“You don’t count, any more than my sister did when we were teens.”
Picka suffered another realization: she missed the routine company of her sister. She didn’t like being alone. She liked being with someone who understood her without desiring her body, just as she had told him. Somehow that was more meaningful when he confirmed it with his own understanding.
He went to her room for her clothing, glad to be of help. She had laid out underwear, heavy shirt, jacket, and trousers, evidently planning for travel rather than being princessly. That was probably just as well.
“I had the strangest dream last night,” Dawn said when he returned. “It was that a night mare got lost and brought me a dream of romance that wasn’t mine. Can you imagine that?”
“Maybe it was a premonition,” Picka said. And wondered whether that could be true. Probably not.
“Yet it wasn’t a black mare. More like a bright day mare.” She shrugged, dismissing it. Picka didn’t comment. She had been asleep, but had picked up part of the daydream. It was another indication that magic of any type could have devious aspects.
* *
*
In due course their party set off in search of Attila the Pun. Woofer sniffed the air and oriented, his nose pointing north.
“North it is,” Dawn said briskly. Picka noticed that she was no longer wearing her little crown, and her long fair hair was braided. She looked a lot like an ordinary lovely girl.
They followed the enchanted path north. Woofer moved in a dog trot, with Tweeter riding on his head. Midrange bounded along just behind. Then came Dawn and the two skeletons.
Soon they came to a rest stop where there were several odd wheeled machines. “Bicycles!” Dawn exclaimed.
“What are they?” Joy’nt asked. “Machine skeletons?”
“They are for riding on. They make travel much faster, as long as there’s a navigable path. I’ll show you.”
Dawn fetched a bicycle, flung her leg over it, and pushed off. It moved, carrying her swiftly along.
The others just stared. They had never seen such a thing before.
“Try it, Picka!” Dawn called. “You can do it.” She looped her machine around and returned to them, coasting to a neat stop.
Picka tried it, following Dawn’s instructions. He put his pelvis bone on the seat, his hands on the handlebars, and pushed on a pedal with one foot.
It worked, to his surprise. The bicycle carried him smoothly forward. When it started to fall over, he turned the front wheel, and the bicycle stayed upright.
Joy’nt learned similarly. Before long the three of them were riding north, with Midrange riding in Joy’nt’s basket and Tweeter perching on Picka’s basket. Now their travel was much faster.
Still, it was a distance to wherever Attila was, and it became evident that they would not make it that day. Dawn and the pets needed to rest at night, so they pulled into a camping site and parked their bicycles. Seeing that, Woofer veered back to rejoin them.
“Midrange is nervous,” Joy’nt said. “He doesn’t want to camp here.”
“Let me check with him,” Dawn said, drawing her bicycle to a stop beside Joy’nt’s. Picka joined them. “What’s up, Middy?”
The cat meowed.
“Oh, my, you’re right,” Dawn said. “That could be dangerous.”
“What is it?” Joy’nt asked.
“There’s a massive, horrifying creature heading this way; she’ll be here within the hour. We won’t be comfortable sharing the camp with her.”
“That’s wrong,” Picka said. “She won’t hurt us.”
“Maybe not bone folk,” Dawn retorted. “But what about flesh folk like me and the pets?” She eyed him narrowly. “Besides, how do you know she’s harmless?”
“Because she wouldn’t be on the enchanted path otherwise.”
Dawn stared at him with her flesh-filled eyes. “You’re right! No hostile monster can use these paths. So we’re all right, as long as we don’t judge by appearances.”
“How does Midrange know about the monster?” Joy’nt asked.
“It’s his developing magic talent,” Dawn said. “When Mundanes have been in Xanth a while, they start getting magic too. Middy’s seems to be awareness of coming problems.”
“That’s interesting,” Joy’nt said. “I wonder what Woofer’s and Tweeter’s talents will be?”
“We’ll know in due course. But they can take many years to develop.”
They resumed riding the short distance to the camp.
Three people were already by the shelter: two boys and a girl. “Do you want to share, Princess?” Joy’nt asked Dawn as they coasted in. “We can go on to another camp if we need to; it’s not that late.”
“This is fine,” Dawn said. “But if you would, just call me Dawn, not Princess. I want to be one of the regular folk.”
“We aren’t regular folk,” Picka reminded her.
“I will introduce you as harmless spooks.”
“Accurate enough,” he agreed amicably.
Dawn led the way. “Hello!” she called as she stopped and parked her bicycle. “I am Dawn. These are my friends Picka and Joy’nt. They are harmless spooks. Their family left the dream realm and no longer works in bad dreams.”
“Oh,” one of the boys said. “Okay. I’m Tom. These are Aliena and Aaron.”
“You’re not a boy,” Dawn said shortly.
Aliena and Aaron looked surprised. They hadn’t known.
Tom was surprised too, for a different reason. “How did you know?”
“It’s my talent to know about things like that.”
“You’re right. I’m a girl. But I’m adventurous and very good at emulating a boy, and it spares me the looks of panty hunters. So I generally travel as a boy. I don’t have two walking skeletons and a big dog to protect me.”
“Oh, I forgot to introduce Woofer,” Dawn said. “He’s friendly. The bird is Tweeter, and the cat is Midrange.”
“Oh, that’s great!” Aliena said. “May I pet them?”
“Woofer yes,” Dawn said. “Midrange maybe. Tweeter no.”
Aliena immediately petted Woofer. “My talent is to change the color of trees,” she confided. “See.” She gestured to a small nearby tree, and it changed from green to blue.
“And mine is hot hands,” Aaron said. “I can even start a fire with them, if I concentrate.”
“You do look hot,” Dawn agreed. But Picka could tell she was being cautious, because Aaron was looking at her with a bit more intensity than seemed proper. She was right: if it was a human male, it desired her.
“Why don’t we take one side of the shelter, and you three take the other?” Joy’nt suggested.
The three looked into her hollow eye sockets, and hastily agreed. Spooks might be friendly, but they remained a bit scary to strangers.
They gathered pies from a nearby pie tree—pie trees were always to be found at enchanted camps—and Aaron used his hands to heat them until they were toasty. It was a nice meal.
Then Picka talked with Aaron while Dawn, Aliena, and Tom washed up on the clean pond. That way he was sure that Aaron did not peek at any panties or bare bodies. This was important for living folk.
After that, Aaron and Picka went to wash, though Picka didn’t really need it, while Joy’nt made sure no girls peeked. It was all part of the social courtesy of such camps.
When they returned, Picka remembered something. “When does the monster arrive?” he asked Dawn.
“Oh, I forgot about that,” Dawn said. “We should warn these three.”
“Warn us about what?” Aliena asked.
“There’s a horrendous monster coming. You may not want to stay here.”
“Are you trying to get rid of us so you can have the shelter to yourselves?” Tom demanded.
“Not at all,” Dawn said. “It’s just that this creature may make you uncomfortable.”
“A likely story. We’ll stay.”
“That’s fine,” Dawn said with a quarter smile.
“I don’t know,” Aliena said nervously. “If there’s really a monster—”
“I’ll burn it with my hot hands,” Aaron said confidently.
Aliena laughed. “You do that.”
Aaron glowered. “Just because I burned you a little, you don’t have to be sarcastic.”
“I apologize,” Aliena said quickly.
“He tried to burn you?” Joy’nt asked.
“I didn’t!” Aaron snapped. “It’s just that when I get excited, my hands get hot. I can’t help it.”
“You got excited and burned her?”
“He didn’t mean to,” Aliena said.
“Exactly what happened?” Joy’nt asked.
“We were getting friendly,” Aaron said. “But when she kissed me, my hands heated.” He sighed. “That’s happened before, with other girls. Each time I hope it will be different, but it never is. I can’t have a girlfriend.”
“So your talent is useful at times, but interferes with your social life,” Joy’nt said.
“That’s it exactly.”
“Too bad you don�
��t like skeleton girls.”
“Oh? Are you interested?”
“I’d like a boyfriend. But you’re not my type.” That was, of course, the understatement of the day. It was almost impossible for any skeleton to have a meaningful romance with any living person, as Picka and Dawn had already determined.
Midrange mewed.
“Oh, she’s coming,” Dawn said. She picked up the cat and held him. “Now remember, this is an enchanted camp. Nobody hurts anybody here. So try to be polite.”
They went out to meet the new arrival. It was just dusk.
Aliena screamed. Tom covered her mouth to prevent a similar reaction. Even Dawn seemed taken aback.
It was a truly horrendous creature. Her body was a ragged mass of fur, her head was a blank ball, but it was her arms that were truly repulsive. They were huge and multiply jointed, with spikes, and her hands were like metallic scoops.
“I’m SOGA, a refugee from the dream realm,” she said. “May I share this lodging with you?”
“Hello, SOGA,” Dawn said. To the others, she said, “SOGA stands for Sea of Gruesome Arms.” Then to SOGA: “It’s all right with the skeletons and me, but we don’t know about the others.”
“Skeletons!” SOGA exclaimed. “You’re from the dream realm!”
“We derive from it,” Picka agreed. “But we are longtime residents of Xanth proper.”
“I don’t want it near me!” Aliena said.
“But I mean you no harm,” SOGA said. “I hate the way I look. All I want is to be loved. But who would ever love me?”
“Maybe we should give her a chance,” Tom said.
“Thank you,” SOGA said. She took a step forward.
“No!” Aliena screamed.
“Hold her,” Dawn told Aaron.
Aaron stepped forward to intercept SOGA. “Don’t try to come in. I’ll stop you.”
“But it’s getting dark and I don’t want to be alone at night,” SOGA protested. She took another step.
Aaron grabbed her arms. “No.”
“Please!” She struggled to get past him.
“Don’t fight me,” Aaron said. “My hands will get hot.”
“I can’t help it. I’m so lonely! And there are skeletons here. They’ll understand.”
Well-Tempered Clavicle Page 6