Man From Mundania (23 page)

might not have been able to blow Fracto away.

A new shape was coming across the plain. It loomed

hugely. It was a sphinx—one of the few creatures struc-

tured on the scale of a giant. Usually sphinxes just sat in

the sand and snoozed, but they could be ornery when

aroused, and this one seemed aroused. Better to avoid it.

Girard turned away. But there coming up behind him

was a roc—one of the few other creatures able to compete

with giants. The big bird looked mean.

More shapes were coming from other directions. This

promised to get nasty! Girard lumbered into a run, taking

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such huge strides that the animals and birds were left be-

hind. But not far behind; they pursued him relentlessly.

He came to a wall across the plain. If he stopped at it,

the aggressive creatures would catch him, and he wasn't

sure that would be very comfortable. So he ran right

through it.

The wall cracked into jagged fragments and fell aside.

Beyond it was a lovely pool with twenty lovesick mer-

maids. They screamed as Girard's foot landed in the wa-

ter, splashing a third of it out.

Girard brought himself to a halt, standing in the pool.

"What happened?" he asked, bewildered.

"You incredible oaf, you crashed through a setting di-

vider!" a mermaid screamed. "We were just rehearsing

for our scene, and you ruined it!"

"Your scene?" Girard asked stupidly.

' 'Our dream scene! We are scheduled to love a misog-

ynist to death. He's supposed to fall in the pool, and

we'll—but how can we do that when you've splashed out

all our water?" She flexed her tail angrily.

"A setting divider?" he asked, equally stupidly.

"Do you think our space is limitless? We have to make

good use of it! You're supposed to stay on your side of the

divider in your own setting, and us in ours. But you

crashed through! How will we ever get this scene in shape

in time?"

He looked at her. She was tiny, in the human fashion,

with her wet hair flung across her face and shoulders, but

her shape was definitely there.

Then a black stallion appeared beside the pool. What is

the meaning of this? the horse demanded speechlessly.

"This—this giant just barged in here and ruined our

rehearsal!" the mermaid expostulated. "Look at our set,

Night Stallion! We have a deadline—"

The horse's eyes nickered as if lighted from inside. Sud-

denly the broken wall was restored; in fact there seemed

to be no wall at all, just the pool and a decorative garden

beyond. The water was restored so that the pool was full.

"Eeeek!" a mermaid cried. "Here comes the misogy-

nist! Get that giant out of here!"

Man from Mundania
       
105

Immediately the mermaids were assuming their places

around the pool, brushing their wild wet tresses. The lead

maid heaved herself up on a rock and inhaled, making her

shape even more definite.

Then the setting disappeared, and Girard found himself

on a featureless plain. He was disappointed; he had been

curious to see how the mermaids would love the misogy-

nist to death. Somehow it did not sound like a bad way to

go. He wondered just what kind of creature a misogynist

was.

It is a man who hates women, the stallion said, appear-

ing before him. Of course the real one is not here; the

maids must address a stand-in while the dream is re-

corded. Then when the dream is carried to the real misog-

ynist, it will be realistic enough to give him his most

horrible fright.

Oh. Now Girard understood. Still, he wondered about

the details of it. Surely not more than one or two mer-

maids at a time could—

What brought you here? the stallion demanded.

Girard explained about the lovely giantess he had seen

in the boy's dream. "I must meet her," he concluded. "I

know she is the one woman for me!"

You fool! She is a mere figment!

"A what?"

An illusion. A construct for one use only. A piece of

temporary scenery. She has no larger existence.

"But I saw her!"

You saw a dream figure, which dissipated with the

dream. Beyond that she is little but a bad memory.

"But the mermaids are dream figures, and they are real,

aren't they?" Girard asked.

The mermaids are regulars. They act in numerous set-

tings. There are many calls for mermaids, even in bad

dreams, but few for giantesses. The one you saw was what

we term an ad hoc figment: an image generated for a single

use only. Forget her; she is nothing.

"She's not nothing!" Girard protested. "I love her!"

You are an idiot. Go back where you came from, and

don't bother us again.

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Man from Mundania

107

Giants were not, as a class, smart, but they did not

really like being called idiots. Girard began to heat up.

"You mean I can't meet Gina?"

The stallion snorted derisively. You even have a name

for her? Go home, oaf!

That did it. Girard got mad. He stood up straight, looked

around, and saw only emptiness. But he knew that was

mostly illusion. If he ran any distance, he would crash

through another barrier. That would serve this arrogant

horse right—and he might even be able to find Gina some-

where too, for he just knew she had to exist; after all, he

had seen her!

He lumbered into a run, making the plain tremble. Sure

enough, after only a few steps he crashed through a bar-

rier. The featureless plain extended only a short distance

before it became walls that were painted to resemble more

featureless plain. It was a good illusion, but this was no

dream; he could strike these walls and break them down.

Beyond the wall was a new setting: a house made of

candy. It looked good enough to eat, and would make

several mouthfuls for him, but he had been warned about

this: eat nothing in the dream realm because it could lock

him into it forever. He had his own supplies of crackers,

cheese, and grog, and would eat those when he got hun-

gry. So he ignored the house and lunged on.

Soon he broke through another barrier. The painted

candy cane backdrop fell away, and he stepped into a nest

of writhing tentacles. He slogged through them and broke

through into a hillside teeming with goblins. They raised

an outraged outcry at his intrusion, but he slogged on. He

didn't care what the horse said about figments; Gina must

be here somewhere, and he would batter down every par-

tition until he found her!

He broke into an ocean setting. The stallion appeared,

standing on the water as if it were solid. That does it,

giant! I'm putting you under restraint!

"Go ram a bad dream under your tail!" Girard ex-

claimed heatedly, for the exertion added to his anger was

making him very hot. He tramped on.

He crashed through another partition. This one con-

tained an ogre bearing a pointed stick. (Ogres weren't

smart enough to use spears.) "Then die, monster!" the

ogre grunted, and hurled the stick at him.

It struck Girard in the side. That stung, so he caught it

between his thumb and forefinger and yanked it out. It

was no more than a splinter, really, but it ripped a hole in

his side, and his blood poured out. He was about to reach

for the magic bandage in his front pocket.

Then, abruptly, he was flat on his back in a new setting,

and strings tied his body down. He was unable to sit up.

The stallion reappeared. You have misbehaved. Giant,

the horse said. You have wreaked havoc, and must suffer

in consequence. You will remain bound until some inno-

cent creature who knows nothing of your situation frees

you. You must offer that creature a reward three times,

and if it accepts any of those times, all will be nulled and

he will be unable to free you. Fare ill, oaf!

With that the horse disappeared. Girard was left to his

fate.

He lost track of how long he lay there, the blood pour-

ing from the wound made by the ogre. He soon gave up

trying to free himself; he could not. The bonds were mag-

ically strong. So he slept most of the time, slowly weak-

ening.

He realized, after a few days' thought, that he probably

could not bleed to death here, because this wasn't his real

body; what happened here was more apparent than real.

But he still did seem to be losing strength; why? A few

more day's thought developed an answer: his real body,

out in Xanth, was lying there without eating or drinking.

That could weaken him, in time. But still he could not

escape. The bonds held his dream body, and the peephole

held his real body.

A nymph came by. "I'm sorry to see you in such dis-

tress, giant," she said. "I would free you if I could, but

I can't, because everyone knows how you barged in and

bashed up several settings."

"I was looking for Gina," he explained.

"Gina? Oh, yes, the giantess who is a figment. I think

108 Man from Mundania

if you just forgot about her, the Night Stallion might let

you go."

"I can't forget her," Girard said.

"Gee, that's too bad. Well, I have to move on; I have