Man From Mundania (24 page)

a gig at the Castle Roogna set. I'm just one of the extras,

but it's a major bad dream." The nymph departed.

Nymphs were not noted for their depth or longevity of

feeling.

Girard thought about Gina for the next few days. The

horse said she didn't exist, but she had to because he had

seen her. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed

to him that a person had to exist if someone believed in

that person, and he believed. So he could not afford to

forget her, because then she might truly be gone.

A ghost floated up. "It must be bad, being mortal," he

said. "I'd like to free you, but I have no substance. Be-

sides, everyone knows how you bashed up those sets. Well,

I have to go on to the Castle Roogna set; I'm playing a

ghost who scared a bad child." He drifted on. Ghosts

were not noted for great sympathy to mortal creatures.

Girard thought about the thing the ghost had said that

echoed what the nymph had said. Everyone knew about

what Girard had done. He was cursed to remain here until

someone who knew nothing about his situation passed.

How long would that take, when everyone knew about it?

Maybe it would be easier to forget about Gina. Then

the horse might free him. But then Gina would not exist,

and he couldn't abide that notion, so he gave it up.

A goblin wandered by. "Say, who're you, bug-brain?"

the goblin inquired politely, after the fashion of his kind.

"Just a bound giant," Girard replied.

"Well, maybe I'd better free you, mud-foot," the gob-

lin said. "I mean, your stupid blood's a menace to navi-

gation. How can we get to the Castle Roogna set when the

blankety path is washed out by this stuff?"

"Name your reward," Girard said, remembering that

he had to ask three times or it wouldn't work.

"A reward!" the goblin exclaimed. "Say, that's a nifty

notion, hair-nose! How about a big bag of fool's gold?"

Now it happened that Girard had a small bag of fool's

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gold tied to his belt, along with his carving dagger. Per-

haps the goblin had seen it, for goblins had extremely

beady eyes. To the goblin it would seem like a big bag.

"Yes, you can have it if you free me," he said.

"Great!" The goblin tried to pull out one of the bonds,

but couldn't budge it. He tried to bite through it, but his

teeth did not dent it. He cursed at it, but though the nearby

foliage wilted, the bond remained tight. "Sorry, can't

break this bond, James," he said.

"That's Girard," the giant said.

"Girard! Hey, I know that name! Ain't you the one

who—?"

"The same," Girard agreed sadly.

"But I'll take the gold anyway, because I did try," the

goblin said.

But the greedy little creature was unable to liberate the

bag of fool's gold either. At length, disgruntled, he stalked

off. Goblins certainly were not noted for generosity or

sensitivity.

Girard thought about the goblin for a few days. It

seemed it was true that the acceptance of a reward made

the rescue impossible. That was too bad. Who would be

fool enough to go to the effort of freeing him without any

thought of reward?

He wondered again whether he should forget Gina. But

he found he just could not, even if he expired. If she

couldn't exist, then he would cease to exist also. That

seemed fair enough.

Then at last the young human couple came. Girard had

so little hope left that he hardly bothered to awaken, and

his voice was out of practice. But to his surprise the young

man did not know of his situation and did not accept any

reward, even though Girard diligently asked three times.

What an amazing and worthwhile creature this was!

"So now at last I am free!" he exclaimed. "Because

of you, Grey Mundane."

"That's Murphy," Grey said. "Grey Murphy of Mun-

dania."

110 Man from Mundania

"Murphy! Hey, I know that name! Aren't you the one

who cursed folk?"

"No," Ivy said. "It's just a coincidence."

"Well, I am glad you came, because now the horse's

curse has been abated and I can resume my search for

Gina."

"But if she's just a figment—" Ivy began.

"I've been thinking about that," Grey said. "If she is

just a figment, why is the Night Stallion so eager to have

Girard forget about her? I mean, who cares who believes

in something that doesn't exist?"

Ivy looked at him as if suspecting an insult somewhere,

but didn't speak. He realized too late that his question

could be taken as a reference to her own belief in magic.

"The horse doesn't want me to believe in Gina," Gi-

rard said. "I don't know why."

"I think I do," Grey said, warming to his thought.

"Here in the dream realm, things go by different rules. So

some things that don't exist in the real world can exist

here, because folk think they do. So maybe it is your belief

in Gina that makes her real. Nobody else believes in her,

but as long as you do, maybe she is real."

"Yes!" Girard agreed. "So maybe I can still find her!"

"So maybe you can," Grey agreed. "But maybe it

would be better not to bash down any more sets while

you're looking, or the stallion will tie you down again."

"But how else can I look?"

"Maybe we could talk to the stallion. There might be

some kind of deal we could make. I mean, you want Gina

and he wants you out of here."

"You want to negotiate with the Night Stallion?" Ivy

asked, amazed. "How can you, when you don't believe in

him?"

"I believe that there is some authority with whom we

can deal," Grey said. "I don't care what his title is."

Ivy shrugged. "The Night Stallion isn't like other au-

thorities. He's dangerous."

"What can he do—enchant me?" Grey asked. But there

was a small core of doubt in him, because the giant seemed

to have been enchanted. Of course that could all be part

m

Man from Mundania

of the setting; still, Girard certainly seemed like a real

person. "But how do we find him?"

"I can summon the Night Stallion for you," Ivy said.

"How? With a spell?"

"With my magic mirror," she said. She brought out a

small hand mirror.

Grey shut his mouth. If she thought she could do some-

thing with that, let her try!

"Night Stallion," Ivy said to the mirror.

What concerns you. Princess? the mirror replied.

Grey jumped. Had the mirror really spoken? He had

almost thought it had!

"My friend Grey wants to negotiate with you," she

said.

In a moment, Princess.

Princess? Had he heard the mirror say that? Did that

mean that he imagined that the mirror not only could talk

but also accepted Ivy as a Princess of Xanth? They had

told the giant their story, but Ivy had not identified herself

to the mirror.

Then, a horse appeared. It was a great black stallion,

standing like a glistening ebony statue. Its eyes nickered.

What is this? A man from Mundania?

"Yes," Ivy said. "He just freed Girard Giant, and now

he wants to make a deal."

The near eye oriented on Grey. Deal?

Grey plunged in. "You tied up the giant for a long time,

hoping he would forget Gina Giantess so you could wipe

her off your books. Well, it didn't work! He still loves her,

and you can't get rid of her until you get rid of him. I

think it's better to try another tack. Why not let him have

her, and he'll take her out of here, and then you can forget

them both?"

The sinister eye flickered again. If you take the giant's

part, you will share his fate.

"Then I share his fate," Grey said stoutly, though his

inner core of doubt was expanding. "What's right is right,

and it isn't right to tie a man down and let him bleed a

river of blood just because he's romantic!"

Again the eye nickered. A gray cloud surrounded Grey,

r

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and strange forces strove at him. Alarmed, he reminded

himself that none of this was real; the setting might be

impressive, but there was no such thing as magic, so it

could not touch him. The stallion was trying to fake him

out, and he refused to be faked.

Then things cleared, and the tableau was as it was be-

fore.

/ can not deal with you, the stallion said, with seeming

surprise.

"What I want is reasonable enough," Grey said rea-

sonably. "Just give Girard what he came for, and we can

all go."

He wants a figment!

"Look," Grey said. "I don't care what kind of a setup

you have here or how it looks to the people who come in

for tours. If you can make a setting as big as a whole

mountain with a castle on top of it and fake flying dragons

with fire and doors that disappear after being used, you

should be able to make a giantess. That's all Girard wants:

the lady he saw in your dream. It was your fault the dream

hit the wrong person; if you put your night mares on a

proper schedule they wouldn't be too rushed to check

closely. Maybe instead of trying to punish Girard you

should work with him to shape up your operation so such