“What's the harm in looking?”
“The same as in eating the food here. We could be trapped in the setting.”
He shrugged. “We seem to be trapped now, unless we want to go back down the mountain and out the picture cave and back into the real world.”
“Mundania isn't the real world!” she protested.
“Let's just say it is my real world, and Xanth is yours.”
So he still refused to believe. She hoped she would be able to convince him before he got into real trouble.
She showed him the guest room. “You sleep here,” she told him shortly. “I'll be just down the hall, in my room. Don't do anything foolish.”
“Foolish?”
“Like sneaking down to the kitchen in the night. It's better to go hungry until we get where we're going.”
“Okay, no sneaking down to the kitchen,” he agreed.
“But is it all right if I dream a little?”
“Dream?”
“About you, maybe.”
She paused. “Are you trying to pay me a compliment?”
He looked abashed. “Uh, I guess so.”
“You think I'm crazy to believe in magic, but you still want to dream about me?”
“Look, I'm not being sarcastic!” he exclaimed. “I'm just not very good at impressing anyone I really like.”
Ivy felt two and a half emotions warring in her. “'How would you like me if you learned I really was a princess of a magical realm?”
“I don't care what you are in what kind of realm! I just think you're a great girl. I wish—I don't know what I wish.”
There it was again. He liked her only for herself, because he didn't believe any of the rest of it was true. What she had told him of her background was actually a liability by his perception, because he thought it meant she was making it up. She remained annoyed by his refusal to believe what she told him, yet nattered by his evident sincerity about the rest of it. She was seeing him in his worst light, she knew, because of his confusion—but she did like what she saw. Grey really was a decent person.
Well, when they got into Xanth proper, she would show him magic he could not deny, and then he would believe.
When she saw how well he adapted to that, she would know how well she could afford to like him.
For there was one enormous barrier to any serious relationship between them: Grey was Mundane. That meant that he had no magic. When she had been trapped in Mundania, he had been a great comfort, and she had needed him to get back to Xanth. But now that they were on the verge of Xanth, the complexion of the matter was changing. She could bring him there and show him Xanth's wonders, but she well knew that any serious relationship was proscribed. The old rule that exiled anyone who lacked a magic talent had been thrown out by Grandpa Trent, so Grey could remain in Xanth, and indeed would probably have to because there might be no certain way back to his place in Mundania. But for a Princess and Sorceress to associate too closely with a no-talent man: no way.
That was one reason she had delayed using the magic mirror. She had been busy, of course, just climbing the mountain and getting Grey through. But she could have paused long enough to bring out the mirror and contact her folks. Indeed, they well might be watching her on the Tapestry. No, the Tapestry didn't reach into the dream realm, she remembered now. That increased her guilt. So she knew she would have to get through before too long, because Queen Irene would not brook too much foolishness on the way.
But if she had brought out the mirror on the mountain, and Grey had seen it operate and realized that its magic really did work, his whole philosophy might have been so severely shaken that he might have done something foolish. So she had waited until she could be alone.
Now she was alone. She brought out the mirror.
“Mother,” she murmured.
Queen Irene's face appeared in the mirror. “Well, it's about time, Ivy!” she said severely. “Have you any idea how we worried when you dropped off the Tapestry? Why didn't you call in before?”
Ivy smiled, seeing right through Irene's severity. “I was in Mundania, as you surely realized. Mother. I couldn't call; the mirror was dead there. But I came back as soon as I could.”
“And where are you calling from? That can't be your own room behind you!”
“We're in the gourd. Mother. In a mock Castle Roogna. It took us two days to climb the Enchanted Mountain, and only now could I—”
“We? Who are you with, Ivy?”
Ivy could see that her mother was not in an understanding mood. “A Mundane. He—”
“You spent two days and one night on that infernal mountain with a Mundane!” Irene snapped. “Have you any idea—!”
“I needed his help to get to the gourd access,” Ivy explained. “Then he wanted to see Xanth, so I'm showing him. There really wasn't much other way I could repay him for his help.”
Irene glanced closely at her. “Obviously not. Does he realize that he'll be a misfit in Xanth, and that there's little chance he will be able to return to his prior situation?”
“I tried to tell him, but he doesn't believe in magic.”
“Doesn't believe in—!” Incredulity and outrage rippled across Irene's expressive face.
“Mundanes are like that,” Ivy reminded her. “It's been a bit awkward here in the gourd, so I haven't pushed it. I'd like to get into Xanth proper first.”
Irene sighed, somewhat grimly. “You should never have brought him this far. It's like pulling a live fish from water and not throwing it back. He's apt to be miserable.”
“I know,” Ivy said sadly.
“We shall arrange with the Night Stallion to move you out in the morning,” Irene said. “Bring the Mundane out on the north turret then; we can't leave him in the gourd.”
“I'll bring him,” Ivy agreed. She felt so guilty, knowing how awkward it would be for Grey, stuck in a land where practically every person except himself could do magic. But it would have been worse leaving him in drear Mundania! From his description. Freshman English was just about as bad as the lake of castor oil. She really hadn't had a good choice to make, so she had gone with the lesser of evils—she hoped.
“Good night, dear,” Irene said with motherly resignation.
“Good night. Mother,” Ivy replied with daughterly guilt.
The mirror became blank, then showed her own face.
It was somewhat drawn. Embarrassed by her unwanted maturity, she forced a sunny smile, making herself look younger.
Then she put the mirror away, and got herself ready for the night. It took her some time to sleep, despite the seeming familiarity of her room.
She woke hungry as the morning sunlight beamed into her room. Her room was on the west side of the castle, but it didn't matter; this was the gourd, and it followed its own rules. Probably the ship/mountain had made a turn in the landscape/river, turning the castle around. She got up, washed, and concentrated on her dress, enhancing it into a fresher and cleaner state. It was Mundane clothing, but here it was subject to her magic.
She stepped out and walked down the hall to Grey's room. His door was closed, so she knocked. There was no answer.
She did not want to be late for the connection on the turret, so she knocked again, harder. “Grey! Grey! Are you up?” Still there was no response.
Worried, she opened the door. The room was empty.
Grey was not a heavy sleeper, so he might have gotten up earlier and gone elsewhere in the castle. Not down to the kitchen, because he had promised not to, but—
“Oh, no!” she breathed. She hurried out and down the hall to the extra door. She had forgotten to make him promise not to go there, and if his curiosity had caused him to open it, they could be in real trouble.
The door was closed. Had he opened it and gone through, or had he left it alone?
She checked the rest of the castle, just to make sure.
He was nowhere. So he must have used that extra door.
“Damn!” s
he said, using a villainous Mundane curse.
There was no help for it. She would have to go after him, and right away. She only hoped he hadn't gotten himself into more trouble than she could get him out of.
She packed her knapsack and put her hand to the knob.
The door opened immediately.
As she expected, there was no sharp mountain drop beyond. There was a lovely green landscape; a rocky slope, with bushes growing in clumps and trees in the distance. A faint path led from the door over the nearest ridge.
She stepped forward, so as to see beyond the portal that hid much of the view. Now she could see a wider section.
And there, sitting on a rock, was Grey. “Grey!” she called.
He looked up. “Ivy! Don't close the—”
Too late. The door slammed shut behind her—and suddenly it and the portal vanished, leaving her standing on the path. That path went on down the slope beyond the region where the door had been, and to a section of forest.
It was of course a magical portal, similar to the pictures into which they had stepped. Only those who had the right magic could use that door from this side. She had fallen into the trap exactly as Grey had.
Grey ran up to join her. “I was only going to look!” he exclaimed. “But I couldn't see much from the door, so I just took one step, and—”
“I know. It's a one-way door.”
“A what?”
“Some doors, like some paths, are one-way. You can go forward on them, but not back. They don't exist in that direction.”
“But that's nonsensical!” he protested.
“No, it's magical.”
He looked down the path, evidently trying to see the vanished door. “One-way glass, maybe,” he said. “You can see through it from one side but not the other. If only I could get my hand on it!”
He still refused to believe! And his foolishness had gotten them both stranded here on a magic route, so that they could not go to the turret on time and be transported directly to Xanth proper. “You idiot!” she cried, abruptly furious.
Grey hung his head. “Yeah, I sort of knew that,” he agreed. “I shouldn't've come through. So I just sat and waited for you to find me. Only—”
“Only I was an idiot too,” she said, her anger cooling as quickly as it had developed. “Well, nothing for it except to follow this path.”
“I thought maybe you would be able to—-”
“My magic is Enchancement, not portal making. But it's not a complete disaster. This path must go somewhere.” She realized that she could use the mirror to get back in contact with her mother, but she was with Grey again and preferred to wait. Maybe there would be some other way to reach Xanth, without having to make her error too obvious.
They followed the path up the slope and over the edge.
It went down across a shallow indentation, then over another ridge, then down into a small valley. There, masked by bushes and trees, wound a small river.
They came to the river, and stopped, startled. The water was bright red!
Grey squatted and dipped his finger into it. “Ouch, it's hot!” he exclaimed. “And thick, like—”
Ivy took his finger and sniffed it. “Blood,” she concluded.
“Blood,” he agreed. “A river of hot blood!”
“Yes.”
“But how can such a thing be? I mean—”
“This is the realm of bad dreams,” she reminded him.
“Blood frightens most folk, especially when it splatters. This must be the source of the blood used in the most violent dreams.”
“But that's—”
“Nonsensical? Magical?”
“Horrible,” he said.
“There's no bridge, but the path continues beyond it,” she said. “How should we cross it?”
Grey looked around. “Somehow I don't want to wade through it. There must be something we can use to make a bridge or raft. Maybe there's a boat; I mean, the regular users of this path must have a way to cross.”
“They might jump,” Ivy said. “Or have a fly-across spell; you never can tell.”
Grey grimaced, still not believing in magic despite everything. “Well, since we can't jump that far and have no flying spell, we'll have to make do with mundane efforts. Let me check along the bank.”
They walked upstream. The forest became thicker, and there was a huge tree partway fallen across the river, but no boat or raft.
Grey eyed the tilting trunk. “Wind must have taken that down, but then it hung up in those trees on the other side. Looks about ready to fall the rest of the way.”
“Yes,” Ivy agreed, nervous about walking under it. If that huge trunk came down on them, it would drive them right into the ground!
“Maybe we can make it drop,” he continued. “Then we could walk across on it, no trouble at all.” He walked to the base and pushed with his hands.
The tree was so firm it was rocklike. Then Grey put up a foot and shoved. Ivy happened to glance at the top, across the river, and saw it wiggle. “You moved it!” she exclaimed.
“But it's still hung up. It's too well supported.” He walked around the base. “Look, there's a branch, driven into the ground. That must be holding it up, while the top is hung up in the other trees. If I knocked out that bottom one, it would probably tear free and come right down.”
“Right down on your head!” Ivy said, alarmed.
He looked up. “Um, yes. Maybe if I could pull on it with a rope, if I had a rope …” He looked around, but saw no rope. “Some vines, perhaps.” But there were no vines. “On the other hand, if I got a pole and levered at the base …” But there was no pole, either.
“Maybe there's something better downstream,” Ivy suggested. “We could walk down and see.”
Grey nodded. They walked downstream, beyond the path that intersected it, but the land only cleared, offering nothing, and soon the river flowed into a much larger river, its blood diffusing in swirls through the clear water.
“We might swim around it,” Grey said.
“No,” Ivy said firmly. “See those colored fins?”
“Sharks! Feeding on the blood!”
“Loan sharks,” she agreed. “They'll take an arm and a leg if you let them, but I suppose they'll settle for just blood if there's nothing better.
“Loan sharks,” he muttered, looking as if he had chewed on a lemon.
“We could follow the path in the other direction,” Ivy said. “Down past where the castle was.” But she was afraid that even if they managed to return to the castle, it would be too late for the rendezvous with her mother.
Maybe it was time to use the mirror again, even if that made for a problem with Grey.
“Let's go back to the tilting tree,” he said. “There has to be a way to bring it down.”
She was glad to agree, because that would keep him occupied while she pondered what to do. She was getting increasingly hungry now; that alone would drive her to the mirror, if they didn't make progress soon. This setting was quite unfamiliar to her, and she didn't know what direction was best. The realm of dreams was odd to begin with, and she did not enjoy being lost in it.
They reached the tree. Grey scouted around. “You know, there's a pretty steep slope here,” he remarked. “And only brush, this side. There were a lot of big rocks in the field we walked through.”
“Yes,” Ivy agreed, wondering what he was working up to.
“If we could roll one down here, to knock out that supporting branch—”
“Yes!” Ivy exclaimed, seeing it.
They hurried up the slope. Soon they were back in the field. There were several big rocks, ranging from kneehigh to waist-high. “This one seems about right,” Grey said, approaching the largest.
“But that's way too big to lift without magic!” she protested.
“And too big to move without a lever,” he agreed.
“But see how it's perched on the slope. I think it will work, with a little luck.”
“Luck? I thought you didn't believe in magic!”
He smiled. “That kind, I do. Let me see what I can do.”
He walked across the slope, and picked up a sharply pointed stone he had spied. Then he went back to the hung-up tree. “Yes, it's pretty good; certainly worth a try.”
“Try what?” Ivy asked, baffled.
“Making a channel,” he said. He squatted, and began digging beside the supporting branch.
“Don't do that!” Ivy protested. “You'll bring the tree down on your head!”
“No, this is only the end of the channel.” He was already moving away, scraping the soft forest dirt into a cavity that was indeed lengthening into a channel.
“You mean—the rock? Down here?”
“Yes. It should roll in the direction of least resistance. It shouldn't take much of a channel to guide it. By the time it gets here, it should be rolling pretty fast.”
“Why, that's brilliant!” Ivy exclaimed.
“No, only common sense,” he said, pleased. “I'm not a brilliant guy; you know that.”
Ivy thought about that as she searched for a sharp stone so that she could help. Grey didn't seem to think much of himself, and indeed he was generally unimpressive, but he didn't seem to fade much in the crunch. He just keep plugging away at whatever he was doing, and doing increasingly well. She liked that. She would never have thought of rolling a rock down a channel to make a tree fall across a river!
They dug and scraped, mounding dirt on either side of the channel, and evening out any bumps so that the rock could roll smoothly. When they reached the rock, they deepened the channel, undercutting the boulder.
The rock didn't move. It extended down into the ground.
But Grey kept working at it, deepening the channel and maintaining its slope, so that when the rock did move, it would keep moving.
Ivy, fatigued and dirty, straightened up and stood back.
“Maybe if we pushed, now,” she said. She wondered whether she should offer to Enhance his strength for this, but feared that he would take it the wrong way.
“Maybe,” he agreed.
They got on the other side of the boulder, braced their backs against it, and pushed with their legs.
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