Fire Sail

by Piers Anthony

  “Yes,” he said, again appreciating her quiet support. “I can’t even sleep alone without getting all tensed up. How am I going to handle real fear?”

  “You will handle it. I believe in you.”

  “And Nan—she’s so beautiful. I hated telling her no.”

  “That is exactly what I mean. You wanted so badly to be with her, and she was amenable, but you knew it wouldn’t be right, so you did what you had to do. I don’t think I have encountered a person as honorable as you before.”

  “But it hurts!” he said, and buried his face in her solid shoulder.

  She held him, comfortingly, until he stumbled to sleep. She never dismissed him or judged him harshly. She had truly learned how to be a perfect grandmother.

  In the morning the six of them formed a circle seated around a couple of tables set together, with six gourds in a smaller circle on cushions to raise them to comfortable eye level. “Now we will hold hands, so as to enter the same scene,” Nia explained, making sure everyone understood. “Once we are inside we don’t need to continue that, but any who want to, can. We do want to remain together as a group. We expect to encounter fears, because that’s our orientation. We don’t know whether they’ll come individually or in a group. We will support each other as well as we are able. We simply don’t know what to expect beyond that. Remember, it’s a dream; we are not physically there, we are here on this deck in this circle. We may need that reassurance on occasion.” She was good at reassurance, as Dell knew so well.

  She glanced around. “Does anybody need to use the facilities? It won’t be convenient to do it in the dream.”

  “That is, pee or poop,” the peeve said helpfully, looking at Win. “Now.”

  “Oh, all right,” the girl said crossly, and went off. Then so did Squid and Kadence.

  Grandmothers knew.

  “How will we find our way in the dream?” Santo asked.

  “I assume there will be a path or something,” Dell said.

  “There are myriad paths. We need a way to find the right one.”

  Dell pondered. “Maybe I can adapt something.” He looked at the peeve. “Is there a compass in the supplies? One that points north.”

  “Of course there is,” the bird said. “All compasses point north.”

  Dell smiled. “Maybe not.” He got a wrist-mounted compass, changed its color experimentally, then got serious. He stroked his fingers across it. “Fear,” he said.

  “You’re afraid of it?” the peeve asked in a tone of you sissy.

  “No. I want it to point to fear. I am hoping that my enhanced talent can do that now.”

  The compass needle wavered, not settling on any point. There was no fear nearby at the moment. Dell held it down for Tata to sniff. “It is working?”

  A smiley face appeared on the dogfish’s screen.

  Good enough. And just in time, for the others were returning. Dell put the compass on his wrist and tightened the strap.

  They re-formed their circle. “Let’s try to be more or less together now,” Nia said. “We don’t need to be right up against the gourd, just so long as we can see into the peephole.” She reached out to either side, taking Dell’s left hand and Kadence’s right hand. She waited until Santo, Win, and Squid completed the linkage. “I will go last, to make sure the rest of you are in order. Now.”

  They eyed their gourds. Dell focused on the peephole, which seemed to expand when it felt his gaze, becoming a round window. Inside it he saw what looked like an old-fashioned haunted house.

  Then he was in the scene, standing before that house. Squid was beside him. Then Win appeared, and Santo, and Kadence. Then, last, as promised, Nia. They were in the scene.

  Dell had seen the house before, as it was the standard entry for the gourd. But this time it seemed more sinister, genuinely foreboding rather than comical.

  “Where to?” Nia asked.

  Dell looked at his wrist. The needle pointed to the side, to a separate path, avoiding the haunted house. “That way.” He hoped it was really working as intended. He was relieved that it remained on his wrist, entering the dream with him.

  The path led into a somber forest whose great-rooted trees seemed to want to squeeze it out of existence. Fortunately the path fought back so they could stay with it. Then it came to a forest pool set deep into the ground so that the muddy sides were steeply angled toward the water. And in the water—

  Win screamed.

  “What’s the matter, dear?” Nia asked.

  “A—a spider!” the girl whispered. “A big one!”

  “Let me guess: You fear spiders?”

  “B-big ones.”

  It was indeed big. In fact it was huge, probably weighing half as much as the girl herself. Win was staring at it, awfully fascinated, shuddering.

  This was the girl who had ridiculed being afraid of fear? Evidently she hadn’t been thinking of spiders at the time.

  They studied the situation. The path led right down into the pool. There was no clearance to the sides. The path must have fallen into a sinkhole, and the water seeped in. But what was the spider doing there?

  “It must have slipped off its web and fallen into the water,” Squid said. “And it can’t get out. See, it’s scrambling, but the slick bank stops it. Maybe I can get it out.”

  “Wait,” Nia said. “This must be Win’s challenge, because she’s the one who’s afraid. She should handle it.”

  “Noo!” Win wailed. “It’s horrible!”

  “It’s in trouble,” Squid said. “It needs to get out of there before it drowns. It needs help.”

  Win looked at her, appalled. “Me?”

  “Suppose you were the one stuck in there. Suppose the spider came to help you get out. Would you let it?”

  The others remained silent, letting Squid handle it

  “I—I—” Win struggled, and tried again. “I guess so, if it didn’t eat me.”

  “That spider surely knows that if it bites you, you won’t be able to help it get out. I think it will let you help it, if you try.”

  Win stared at the desperate arthropod. “I—I don’t like to see anything suffer. Not even a big spider. But I’d have to—to touch it.”

  “Which is your greatest fear,” Squid said. “Touching a spider.”

  “Y-yes.”

  “You know what you have to do.”

  “Yes.” Then the girl scrunched up her face and lay down at the edge of the pool. She inched forward. There were tree roots all around, exposed by the sunken ground. She dug her toes into their tangled mass so that her feet were anchored. Then she pushed her body out over the edge and down the muddy slope. She was just able to reach the edge of the water near the spider. She beckoned it.

  Dell, watching with the others, had to admire the child’s spunk. She was obviously terrified, but was doing what she had to do.

  The bedraggled spider fixed several eyes on her, astonished. “Me?” it seemed to ask.

  “Cl-climb over me,” Win gasped. “Don’t drown.”

  The spider worked its way along the edge by the water and finally caught her hand with a foot. Win winced but remained in place, not shoving it away. It put another leg on her arm. Then it drew itself up onto her, crawling along her stretched-out body. She held firm, immobile, being its ladder, her face frozen in horror.

  Finally the spider got all the way across her and stood on the dry ground. It had been saved! It walked to the base of the nearest tree and took hold of the trunk, rapidly climbing. Then it paused.

  Win inched back, unfastening her feet, and finally was able to stand. Her front was coated with mud, but she was all right. She looked at the spider.

  The spider raised one leg in a kind of salute, then scrambled up into the foliage of the tree, disappearing. The deed was done.

  “I—I�
��m not afraid of it anymore,” Win said, amazed.

  “You conquered your fear,” Squid said. “I knew you could do it. You couldn’t let any creature die like that.”

  “I couldn’t,” Win agreed.

  “I think that spider will tell its friends, maybe in their dreams,” Squid said. “And no spider will ever bite you after this. They’ll remember.”

  “I guess,” Win agreed, vastly relieved.

  So were the rest of them. So was Dell.

  They turned back to the pool—and stared. It was gone. The path went on through unobstructed.

  This was after all the dream realm. Things could change without notice.

  So they moved on, Win and Squid leading the way. And came to another pool. This one was larger, really a big pond or small lake, with no way around it. They would have to swim across.

  But there were colored fins stirring the surface. “Loan sharks!” Nia said. “They’ll take an arm and a leg if you let them.”

  Squid froze in horror. “Sharks. Our natural enemy. They eat squids.”

  Nia looked shrewdly at her. “You’re alien, right? The sharks you know about are real ones, rather than the pun ones of Xanth. These ones may not be as much of a threat to you.”

  “They are close enough in nature,” the child said. “I dread these too.”

  “Maybe we can drive them off,” Dell said. “Win, how strong a wind can you blow?”

  “A hurry cane,” she said. “I could blow those sharks away.”

  “Two things about that,” Nia said. “First, you’re obviously not afraid of sharks. Second, you’ve already met your challenge of fear. This one is not for you. It will disappear when the right person overcomes it. And that person is—”

  “Me,” Squid said faintly.

  “You,” Nia agreed. “You have to handle those sharks if we are to follow the path to its end.”

  “They’ll tear me apart!” she wailed.

  Now Win spoke. “You helped me, sister. You talked me through it. Maybe I can help you.”

  “You can’t stop those sharks! These aren’t things you can make friends with. They’ll take an arm and a leg, and then the rest of me, and I’ll be gone.”

  “No, you’ll just be out of the dream. A loser, but alive, with your limbs intact. Horrible, but at least you can try. You know how to handle sharks when you have to.”

  “I couldn’t!”

  “Would it help if I swam with you?”

  “They would eat your arms and legs too.”

  “And I’d be out of the dream too, keeping you company.”

  “No,” Squid decided. “If I have to lose, I’d better do it alone, and not mess up anyone else. I’ll do it.”

  “I think I know how you can,” Win said. “Remember those games we’ve played in water? Remember how you got by me?”

  Squid brightened, or at least became less dull. “I remember. Do you really think it could work?”

  “I think it could. If you have the nerve.”

  “I don’t know,” Squid said bravely. “But I’ll try.”

  She had spunk too. Maybe it came from having faced future extinction, making other threats less worse.

  Squid dived into the water as a little girl, but landed as a squid with about ten trailing tentacles. She gulped in water, as she had in the Mountain, and jetted herself rapidly backward.

  The colored sharks took notice. They swerved smoothly to converge on her, mouths gaping.

  Squid emitted a jet of black ink. It spread out rapidly, enveloping her in a cloud that hid her from view. It smelled of detergent, a horrible substance Mundanes used to make their clothing stink worse. Sharks hated it. They screeched to a halt, which was a good trick in water. They were repelled by the opaque stench.

  One foolish little shark tried to close its gills, which was the way it held its nose, and entered the cloud. But in half a moment it backed out, sneezing, another good trick in water. Dell hadn’t actually seen it enter, but it had to have, in order to back out so ignominiously. It hastily retreated, which was just as well because the larger sharks would have shoved it aside and maybe even chomped its tail if there had been any chance to snatch the prize.

  Gradually the cloud expanded, and as it did it thinned, becoming gray. The smell diluted also. The sharks circled it hungrily, knowing that soon they would be able to chomp a few fingers or toes. The little shark didn’t even try to get in now, knowing that it would only aggravate the big ones. It retreated across the pond. Dell almost felt sorry for it, ironically.

  Finally the cloud diffused enough so that it could be penetrated. The biggest shark, a huge red effort, plunged in, snapping its myriad teeth so sharply that sparks flew. That was a really good trick in water.

  And came up empty-mouthed. Bemused, it whirled and swam back in, determined to get what it had somehow missed. And failed.

  The cloud was empty.

  The sharks exchanged frustrated glances. How could this be? They had all seen the prey jet the ink, and nothing had left the cloud.

  Meanwhile the littlest shark swam to the far edge of the pool and beached itself, evidently in frustration. Then it formed legs and waded out. What?

  It was Squid! She had used her form-changing ability to emulate a shark, and thus outsmarted the horde. She had not entered and left the cloud; she had simply left it backward, as was her mode. She had conquered her fear and made it across.

  The pond evaporated, along with the school of sharks, leaving a dry path. School was over. All that remained was the teacher’s mark on a stranded blackboard: the letter A.

  “I knew you could do it!” Win exclaimed happily.

  They resumed their walk. Two had passed their trials; who would be next? Dell foolishly hoped it would not be him.

  They came to a chasm. It clove the path in two, about the length of a man across, dropping into a void so deep they could not see its bottom. However, a stout wood plank bridge crossed it, so that was no problem. The children crossed readily, evincing cries of awed delight.

  Except for one person. “Oh no!” Grania said, hastily drawing back her toe.

  “What’s the matter?” Dell asked.

  “I’ve got acrophobia. I’m afraid of heights.”

  “But this isn’t high.”

  “Touch it.”

  He put one foot on it. Then he found himself on a swaying rope bridge stretched between two mighty mountains, with the ground awesomely far below. That was what the children had been exclaiming about. Still, it was spot illusion, not real, even in terms of the dream. “But you’ve been up in the boat with no problem.”

  “That’s different. I was sitting firmly in it, in no danger of falling. I never had to look straight down. I was able to handle it. But walking this plank, even crawling on it—” She took a breath. “Is beyond me.”

  Dell was caught by surprise. Nia had always been so firm, so reassuring, it hadn’t occurred to him that she had any real fears at all. Now she was in the same boat, as it were, as the rest of them? How could any of them reassure her?

  “You’ll have to go on without me,” she said. “I’m sorry.” She looked near tears, another disconcerting thing.

  The children looked at Dell. They expected him to handle this, as the only other adult in the party. But he was not that far into the adult mode, and had no idea what to do.

  Then Kadence crossed back to catch his eye. “My host, Ula, has an idea. Here, she can talk with you, if you’re willing.”

  “Of course I am,” Dell said. “She’s a person too.”

  The girl’s countenance faded and changed. “I’ve been frightened of things all my life,” Ula said. “Things I can’t do anything about, like bullies at the orphanage. Once they made me cross a bridge like this one, and I was so scared I thought I’d wet my pants. But I closed my eyes tigh
t shut and did it, and it wasn’t so bad.”

  “But Nia can’t close her eyes,” he protested. “She’d fall off the bridge.”

  “Yes. There was one friend I had, and she told me where to put my feet, and that worked. Maybe you could tell Nia.”

  Dell nodded. It was certainly worth trying. “Thank you, Ula.”

  She smiled. “It’s my talent. To be useful in unexpected ways. Unexpected to me too. I’m glad to help. You’ve been so very good to me.” Then she faded back to Kadence.

  Dell returned to Nia. “You need to trust me,” he told her.

  “Oh, I do, I do, Dell. But trust won’t abolish the fear.”

  “Crossing the bridge is worse than it seems from a distance. But most of it’s illusion; it’s not really high above the land.”

  “I know that. But the apparent gulf is deep enough to wipe me out regardless, emotionally.”

  “Take my hand. Shut your eyes. I will lead you across.”

  She nodded. “You know, that just might work.” She took his hand and closed her eyes.

  He led her to the bridge. But the moment her foot touched it, she shrank back. “I can see the illusion!”

  “But your eyes are shut.”

  “Yes they are. But I’m seeing it through your eyes.” She took a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry, Dell. You can’t help me this way.”

  “Maybe if I shut my eyes.” He closed them.

  “Now it’s gone,” she said.

  “So if I cross it blindly—”

  “Now I can’t see it,” she said. “But you need to, Dell, to lead me across. If you misstep, we’re both lost. It’s still no good.”

  “Maybe if I don’t touch you.” He let go of her hand.

  She touched the plank with her foot, and drew it quickly back. “I can’t see it. But I need guidance, or I’ll fall.”

  “One more thing to try,” he said. “My voice.” He crossed the bridge, then turned to face her. “Take one step forward.”

  She braced herself visibly, and did it, eyes looking painfully tight. He hated to see her like this, but truly did not want her to leave the dream.