Heaven Cent (33 page)

“Yes.”

“And do you take pride in your work?”

“Of course. It is a great and necessary profession. I take my work most seriously."

“And were you the designated carrier of the dream for Tristan Troll that night?”

“I was.”

“Did you have any reason to doubt that it was a quality bad dream, suitable for the occasion?”

“No. It was presented in a package. In fact, the full effort was so important that it required three night mares to handle it. I was the first: a position of honor.”

“And did that dream occur as scheduled?”

“No.” The black maid in the dreamlet frowned. “It was a disaster, and a sore embarrassment to us all.”

“Exactly what happened?”

“A critical part was to be played by a female skeleton—”

“The defendant?”

“Yes. But instead of scaring the dreamer as she was supposed to, by playing the part of the skeleton of a female of his tribe who had starved to death because of his dereliction, she—” Here the dreamlet maiden faltered, appalled by the enormity of the betrayal.

“Take the time you need,” Ivy said sympathetically. “Tell us in your own words exactly how that wretch ruined your work of artistry.”

The dreamlet girl recovered her equilibrium. “It was so subtle, so devious, I didn't catch it on my initial review. All of the dream was correct, guaranteed to keep the victim screaming in his sleep until he was more horse than me.”

The audience and the jury burst out laughing at the pun. “Order in the court,” the judge said indulgently.

“Then why didn't it work?” Ivy persisted.

“Because of those few words she whispered at the beginning of her part.” the black mare girl explained. ”She told the troll 'I think you did right.’ Then he knew that it was only a dream, and that even those who had come to torment him didn't want to. He no longer took it seriously, and he hardly suffered at all. The entire night's dreaming was ruined!" Here the mare girl broke down, and was unable to continue.

“Your witness,” Ivy said smugly.

What was Dolph to do with this witness? There was no question of the facts; Grace’l had certainly done the deed. "No questions,” he said.

“The prosecution has no more witnesses,” Ivy said. She needed no more; she had made her case.

The facts were clear enough. Dolph realized that his only chance was to change their interpretation. Surely the jury would be able to appreciate Grace'l’s motive, once her side was stated. He knew just the person to make this clear. “Mela Merwoman.”

Mela walked up. She had her legs for this, and they were just as pretty as they had been before.

“Mela, are you acquainted with the defendant?”

“Yes, I got to know her well when she was at my lair.”

“What kind of a person would you say she is?”

“Well, of course she's not alive; she is formed of bones. So I don't know whether it's fair to judge by—”

“Make an effort,” Dolph said, in the curt courtroom manner that seemed to make the best impression. He didn't know much about trials, but he wasn't stupid.

“I'd call her a really nice person. She cares about people, and she always tries to do what's right. Her friend Marrow is that way, too; he—”

“You say she cares about people,” he interrupted, knowing that they could not afford to stray from the topic and fudge the point. “But she is not alive, not truly human. How could she care about a human child?”

“She cares about anyone who needs caring about,” Mela said simply. “There are some living folk who don't care.” She looked darkly at Draco Dragon. “Grace’l is a nonliving person who does care.”

He saw Vida Vila reacting in the jury box; she was unlikely to vote against Grace’l after this. Fulsome Fee was nodding agreement too; he had a concern with children, for his folk needed more of them.

“So if she had to punish someone who had saved a child from harm, would you say mat she was justified in—”

“Objection!” Ivy cried. “Conclusion on the part of the witness”

“Sustained,” the judge said.

But Dolph had made his point; more heads in the jury were nodding. It had been no accident that Grace’l messed up the bad dream for Tristan Troll. She had done it because of the way she felt about people. How could she be condemned for that?

“Mela, if you had to play a part in a bad dream, like the one Grace’l—”

“Objection!” Ivy cried. “Irrelevant, immaterial, and misleading!”

“Sustained.”

Well, it had been worth a try. "No more questions.” he said.

Ivy had no questions; Mela could only make Grace’l look better.

Next he called Tristan Troll. There was a stir in the audience; this was a daring move! But Dolph knew he had to be daring, if he was to fight his way to anything like an even chance for Grace’l.

“Tristan, why did you let that little girl go?” he asked. “Please tell this court in your own words, with as much detail as you need.” He knew this would be a touching story.

“Objection!” Ivy cried. “Irrelevant! We don't need to know why, just that he did it, and what the defendant did then.” Naturally she did not want this touching story presented.

“This is the act that started this whole thing,” Dolph said. “We have to have it straight, because the bad dream was what got Grace’l in trouble. How can we judge her, if we don't know exactly what caused her to do what she did?”

More members of the jury nodded. They were not inflexible at all; he was winning them over! He had surprised himself by his logic; he might have a better mind than he had suspected.

“Overruled,” the judge said. For a moment Dolph was disappointed, thinking that he had lost the point; then he realized that it was the objection that had been overruled, and he had won his point.

“I had always thought of the human folk as mere animals,” the troll said. “Just so much flesh waiting to be caught and eaten. But when that little girl spoke to me, and told me how bad her loss would make her family feel, I thought of my own little cub troll, that I always wanted but never had, and I remembered how lonely it was without her, and I didn't want to do that to anyone else, not even human folk. So I let her go. I know it was foolish, because trolls never spare humans, nor humans trolls, but that was the way it was.”

Dolph figured that was enough. Anyone on the jury who had a child would understand. “Your witness.”

“But you knew you were doing wrong, didn't you?” Ivy asked the troll. “So that you deserved punishment?”

“Objection!” Dolph cried.

“I withdraw the question,” Ivy said with a smirk. She had done her damage, regardless of the answer. “No further questions.”

Finally Dolph called the little girl as a witness. She came to the witness box, and she was impossibly little and cute.

“Do you understand what the trolls intended to do with you, before Tristan let you go?” he asked her.

The little girl burst into tears. Fulsome Fee looked angry, and Vida Vila almost jumped out of the jury box. Neither of them liked the abuse of children. “Your witness,” Dolph said.

“No questions,” Ivy said quickly. She did not look comfortable.

That was it; there were no further witnesses. It was time for the counsels for the prosecution and defense to make their summations, before the jury decided. This was where it all came together—or apart. Dolph's hands were sweating; he had no idea what to say.

Fortunately, Ivy had to speak first. “All this business about nice skeletons or sorry trolls or sweet little girls is irrelevant,” she said. “Skeletons are supposed to be scary, and trolls are supposed to be mean, and little girls aren't necessarily sweet.” She whirled on Dolph. “Do you disagree?”

Dolph, caught completely by surprise, choked. Ivy was her own best example!

“You the jury have to consider just one thing,” she continued savagely. “Did the defendant do what she was supposed to do? You know she didn't; therefore she is guilty. That is all there is to it, and you know it.”

Ouch! At one nasty stroke, she had negated all of Dolph's witnesses. How could he counter that? Grace’l had messed up the dream, and that was all that the denizens of the realm of dreams cared about.

Then he remembered that he couldn't win if he accepted the gourd's definitions; it was a fixed game. He had not gotten anywhere he wanted to go when he kept opening doors with questions he didn't like; he had only escaped that trap when he rejected that whole business. He had to break out of those definitions. There might not be much of a chance, that way, but there was no chance at all the other way.

He had to get through to each member of the jury, to make that person or creature vote his way. To make a really effective summation that would move them all.

“Well, uh, er,” he said, “You know it just isn't right to punish a person for being nice. The ends of making bad dreams don't justify the means of—” He stalled, confused. What point had he been trying to make? He couldn't, in this pressure situation, get it straight. Ends and means— but it was gone. “That's all I have to say.” He returned to his table, chagrined.

Ivy looked across at him. “Brother, you blew it,” she said sneeringly.

He was already aware of that.

The jury consulted. Dolph looked at Grace’l. “I tried,” he said, near to tears again. “I really tried.”

“I know you did, Dolph,” she said. “It isn't your fault that no one can win a trial in the dream realm.”

The jury straightened. “Have you reached a decision?” the judge inquired.

“We have, Your Honor,” Draco said.

“What is your decision?”

“Guilty.”

Dolph had been discouraged, fearing just this result. But now that it had happened, he was outraged. “But it isn't fair!” he cried. “She's so nice, and this is all so mixed up!”

Ivy turned toward him. He could tell by the mean set of her mouth that she was about to say something ungirl-like.

Then, without warning or interim, he was in a courtyard. Grace’l was standing before a pocked brick wall. There was a blindfold around her skull.

“Ready!”

Dolph looked toward the voice. There was a squad of ten centaur archers, now lifting their bows and nocking their arrows in unison. The centaur commander stood to the side, where he could see both the squad and the target—which was Grace’l, across the court.

“Aim!”

Ten bows oriented, and ten strings drew back as ten terrible arrows were aimed at the condemned creature.

“Wait!” Dolph cried, running out into the middle of the court, between Grace’l and the firing squad.

“This is highly irregular,” the centaur commander said, frowning.

“But you can't execute her just because she messed up one bad dream!” Dolph protested.

“Indeed we can, unless she recants and swears never to do it again and makes up for it by being twice as mean as the others in future dreams.”

“I can't do that!” Grace’l cried, appalled.

“She can't do that!” Dolph echoed.

“I thought so. She is recalcitrant. Move aside, or you will share her fate,” the centaur commander said curtly.

“She did what she did because the dream was wrong!” Dolph said. “She's a nice person, and she just couldn't participate in an unfair punishment. How can you, centaurs, known for their fairness, do this thing? How can you execute a person you know is right?”

“We do not make the rules, we only implement them,” the commander said. “For the final time: move, for we are about to fire.”

Dolph backed up until he touched Grace’l. He turned and put his arms around her. “I defended her, I share her fate!” he said. “I believe as she does: that dream was wrong!”

“As you wish,” the centaur said. He turned again to the squad, which had remained immobile during this exchange.

“I'm sorry,” Grace’l,“ Dolph said, his tears flowing. ”I tried, I just wasn't good enough!"

“You were good enough,” she said. “It was a lost cause from the start. We know we are right, even if they don't accept it. At least you tried, and I thank you for—”

“FIRE!”

Ten arrows shot toward them, each one unerringly aimed. They struck together. There was an explosion of light.

They stood in a tiny chamber, before the Night Stallion. “Are you satisfied?” the stallion asked.

Dolph, dazed, couldn't answer. He seemed to be still alive. Grace’l seemed intact, the blindfold gone.

“We are,” a chorus of voices replied.

Dolph looked. One of the walls had fuzzed out, and beyond it was the jury box, with the twelve creatures present.

The stallion focused on the skeleton. “You have been found guilty of being too nice for work in the crafting of bad dreams, and your constancy under duress has been verified. You are therefore barred from this type of employment; henceforth you will work exclusively in good dreams. Since there is small call for your specialty in those, you are hereby granted leave in Xanth until a call arises for an animated skeleton in a good dream. Depart with our favor; you are indeed a good person.”

Grace’l was almost speechless. “But the trial—”

“Was to ascertain the exact nature of your belief. You might have interfered with the dream because of laziness or carelessness or confusion. It was essential for us to know, if you were to resume work in the gourd. Had you remained beyond the dream realm, none of this would have been necessary.”

“But the execution—”

“We had to ascertain whether your position was firm, rather than merely a pose to elicit sympathy. When you maintained it even at the end, we knew that you truly believed in goodness.”

“But Dolph—” she said.

“Ah yes, Prince Dolph.” The equine gaze oriented on Dolph. “You showed your values. You defended her as well as you were able, and, given your age and inexperience, this was creditable. You remained consistent even at the end, putting your life behind your belief when your words failed you. You will one day make an excellent King of Xanth. Meanwhile, you will be treated with due respect in the gourd. Whenever you enter, the first denizen of the dream realm to spy you will proffer any help you need to find your way around or to accomplish something. You have proved out, Prince Dolph, and we of the gourd salute you.”