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"But those are faun sandals. I'm having enough trouble balancing on these human feet; I don't think I could do it at all with hoofs. Of course I'm used to hoofs, but only when I have four of them."
"Sandals from my tree fit anyone. That's their nature. Try them."
So she sat down and lifted her knees so she could reach her feet. In the process she showed a very nymphly pair of legs almost up to the panty line, in much the way the Demoness Sire would have done on purpose. He wondered if he should mention that, because it was clear that Imbri was not accustomed to the ways of a physical human body. Then she got the sandals on, discovering that they did indeed fit her human feet-and the position of her legs s.h.i.+fted so that much less showed. He realized that the sandals were now protecting her feet from harming the rest of her legs by undue exposure. Because the legs connected to the feet, and missteps were not merely of the ground. So he didn't have to say anything.
She stood. "Oh, I feel far more secure! These sandals are helping even now."
He had already come to that conclusion. "I'm glad." Actually he could have lived with the exposure of her legs, but there didn't seem to be much point in saying that.
She looked around. "I'm supposed to guide you, and I haven't done a good job. Maybe we can ask someone."
That seemed like a fair idea. "All right. Is there anyone to ask?"
"There are countless slews of folk here. I'm sure one of them must be close by. Let's walk along the beach and see."
So they walked along. After a time Forrest noticed that there was something odd about the air. It smelled all right, but it had colors.
It seemed to be green ahead, and blue to their right. But there didn't seem to be any source.
He paused, turning around. "Do you see colors?" he asked.
"Yes," Imbri said, surprised. "It is yellow behind us, and red over the sea."
"Do you think it means anything?"
"It must. But I don't know what."
"And there just doesn't seem to be anyone to ask," he said, frustrated.
"If there are so many folk here, where are they all?"
Imbri pondered, then brightened. "I think I remember, from one of the dreamers: folk have to be requested. Otherwise they stay away. If they are courteous. So that no one gets crowded."
"But how do we request someone, when there's no one to ask?"
"I think you just do it."
He shrugged. "Okay." He stood straight. "I hereby request the company of someone."
There was a sound, and in a moment a large figure appeared, flying over the trees. It came to a solid landing on the sand before him.
"Yes?" It was a winged unicorn.
Taken aback, Forrest looked at Imbri. She looked as baffled as he.
So he turned to the unicorn. "h.e.l.lo. I was just wondering-"
"With no introduction?" the unicorn asked. He spoke without moving his mouth.
"Uh, I am Forrest Faun."
"I am Kero Unicorn."
"I was just wondering-"
"What service do you have to trade?"
"What'?"
"You are impaired of hearing?"
"No. I just don't understand. What service?"
"Precisely."
"I don't understand."
The unicorn looked more closely at him. "You are impaired of intellect?"
Forrest was getting frustrated. "I am just new to this region. I don't know what you mean."
"Oh. You must have traveled far, to be so out of touch."
"Very far," Forrest agreed.
"I suppose I can explain that much without violating protocol. In this region we trade services. So if you want to know something I can tell you, you must trade me a service for my service in abating your ignorance. What service do you offer?"
This was new to him. "What service do you want?"
"I have no idea. You summoned me, so I a.s.sumed you had something in mind."
"I had a question in mind."
"That's not a service. My answer is a service. What other service will you trade for it?"
This wasn't getting anywhere very rapidly, so he tried something silly.
"An entertaining jig."
"Done. What is your question?"
"What do the colors of the air mean?"
"They indicate direction, since we have no sun or moon or stars to mark it. Blue is north, because it is cold; red is south, because it is hot; green is To; and yellow is From."
Forrest waited, but that appeared to be the extent of the answer. So he brought his panpipe from his knapsack, played a lively melody, and proceeded to dance his jig. Fauns were good at jigs, so he knew it was competent. The unicorn watched with seeming interest.
When he thought he had jigged enough, he stopped. Kero nodded, satisfied, then spread his wings and flew back over the forest.
"I guess we learned something," Forrest said, watching the creature disappear.
"Yes," Imbri agreed. "We learned two things: that colors indicate directions, and that it is necessary to trade services on Ptero. So we got the better bargain."
"Maybe so. But what is this To and From business?"
"I suppose we could trade for that information. But maybe we'll figure it out for ourselves, soon. Let me see if I can trade for useful information."
Forrest shrugged. "I hope you can."
Imbri faced the air. "I request someone to trade with."
A dark creature faded into view. It was a black centaur mare. "Yes?"
What startled Forrest was that she spoke both physically and mentally.
Imbri's delicate jaw dropped. "You're a night mare!"
"Not exactly. Are you curious about my derivation?"
"Yes!" Forrest and Imbri said together.
"I am Chemare. It all started when my sire, who was horribly prejudiced against zombies, was scheduled to have a bad dream in which he and a really rotten female zombie drank from a love spring. But somehow the night mare who was carrying the dream got confused, or maybe she had a secret thing for the centaur, who was rather handsome for his kind, and she fell into the dream herself and drank from the spring instead. The elixir overwhelmed them both, and they promptly indulged in an encounter of love that heated the spring so much it almost evaporated. Then the mare departed and the dream dissipated, leaving the centaur considerably more satisfied than the authentic dream would have left him. In due course the mare bore a foal with half a soul, black as night but with the form of a centaur. That was me. But because I derive from an illicit dream, I came not to Xanth proper, but to Ptero, where I bring bad dreams to those residents who deserve them. It's not the best existence, but 't will do.
"Oh, Chemare!" Imbri exclaimed. "How well I understand. I was a night mare for many decades."
"I thought you looked somehow familiar. But you're in human form.
"Yes, so I can be substantial for my companion, Forrest Faun, whom I am trying to help. Would you like to exchange a service?"
"I would love to. But I'm not sure what we could do for each other.
"Is there anything you need?" Forrest asked.
"No. I came only because I was closest when the call went out.
So I truly regret this, because it's so rare to encounter someone with experience nightmaring, but I must go." She faded out.
"Wait!" Forrest cried, too late. She was gone.
"We are slow on the uptake," Imbri remarked. "We had better be prepared to render some service before the next one disappears."
"Yes. They don't seem to wait around long without reason."
There was the sound of running hoofs. A centaur came galloping from the green direction, followed by two centaur foals. She had a white mane and white body, but blue eyes. Forrest tried not to stare at her rippling bare chest, knowing that centaurs paid no attention to certain effects, but he was impressed.
She came to a stop before Imbri. "h.e.l.lo, mare in human form. I am Ilura Centaur, and these are my foals. We apologize for our tardiness."
"Tardiness?"
"We were some distance when we heard your call, and the foals couldn't move at adult speed."
Forrest realized that more than one creature had answered Imbri's call.
But Imbri was already handling it.
"I am Mare Imbri, and this is my companion."
"What have you to trade?"
"A pleasant daydream."
"What do you wish in return?"
"Information on the person on Ptero who can best help us to find what we seek."
"What do you seek?"
"A faun for a vacant tree."
"That would be Cathryn Centaur. She is the one who best knows where to find fauns."
There was a pause. Then Imbri, realizing that she had her answer, looked directly at Ilura. The centaur's eyes went blank in a manner Forrest recognized. She was having a daydream.
He looked at the two foals. One was a dark furred male, the other a light furred female. The male was stoic, while the female was impatiently stamping her feet. "h.e.l.lo, foals. I'm Forrest Faun. You must be dissimilar twins."
The female looked quickly at him. "I'm in a hurry," she replied.
The male looked slowly at him. "I'm in no hurry," he said.
"Well, I'm sure your dam will be finished here soon."
The female reacted rapidly. She used a forefoot to scratch letters in the sand. THE HURRY TWINS: IMINA AND IMINO.
Oh. "My apology for misunderstanding," Forrest said.
"Don't be," Imina said quickly. "It happens all the time."
"We're used to it," Imino added slowly. "It's probably a good thing we don't exist."
"But how can I be talking to you, if you don't exist?"
" We're might-be's, " Imina replied rapidly. "It would take a freakish set of circ.u.mstances to make us real. For one thing, our dam isn't real either."
"Only our sire, Hurry Centaur, is real," Imino said tardily.
Forrest was starting to catch on. "Your sire lives in Xanth proper, and the rest of you don't."
"That's it exactly," Imina agreed swiftly. "We can only come to exist if our dam gets real, and encounters our sire, and performs a certain ritual that makes human folk uncomfortable to contemplate. All that seems extremely unlikely."