Faun and Games (24 page)

"To be fully souled.
 
To be fully real.
 
I am only a day mare; I was

fully real only briefly, when I had a mission in Xanth, and was king for

a moment.
 
Ever since, I have longed to be fully real again.
 
And once I

complete my Service to the Good Magician, by enabling Forrest to find

his tree spirit, I will be, perhaps."

"I envy you your chance at reality.
 
All of us here on Ptero hope for

it, but most of us know that we will never achieve it."

"How do you know that any of you achieve it?" Forrest asked. "Could you

all be victims of a cruel hoax?"

"No, we do know the chance is real, because some of us are real. We see

them, and know it can theoretically happen for others."

' 'But didn't you say that none of you actually have souls?"

"I said that all of us hope for genuine existence, and gain souls only

when we assume reality.
 
Some of us do achieve it, and the rest of us

envy them despite the inconvenience it brings them."

"Inconvenience?"

"There is a year-wide swath missing from their lives, corresponding to

the period they are in Xanth.
 
It is similar to the excluded regions of

death, but broader.
 
Because a creature can't be both here and in Xanth

at the same time."

Forrest shook his head.
 
"I don't understand that."

"Neither do I," Imbri agreed.

"Well, it is rather complicated to appreciate, until you see it,"

Cathryn said.
 
"Perhaps we shall encounter a living person before we

separate." I Forrest hoped so, because this was one peculiar thing she

was describing.
 
Souled folk with missing year-wide bands?

They reached the top of the peak, which really wasn't all that high, but

it made up for it in barrenness.
 
As far as they could see, there was

nothing except dirt and rocks and stunted weeds that didn't dare grow

bold for fear of the ogres.
 
So visibility was good, which was what they

wanted.

"Now we shall have to give him something to ogle," Cathryn said

distastefully.
 
"I understand males like to look at forbidden female

anatomy.
 
But centaurs, being more sensible, have no forbidden anatomy.

So it may be up to you, Imbri."

"But I'm a mare," Imbri protested.
 
"I assumed this form only because

it's all that my half soul can substantiate, and because it facilitates

physical verbal speech.
 
I wear a dress only because otherwise I would

be confused for a nymph."

"But nymphs are mindless creatures," Cathryn said.
 
"While you clearly

have a mind."

"Not unless I speak."

The centaur nodded.
 
"Point made.
 
From afar, Ogle would take you for a

nymph, unless you are clothed.
 
So he would ignore you, because ogling

just doesn't work unless the subject is embarrassed.
 
So you wouldn't be

of interest, clothed or unclothed."

"Maybe if Cathryn put on clothing," Forrest suggested.
 
"Since centaurs

don't normally wear anything, that might make her interesting."

"I doubt it," Cathryn said.
 
"Even straight human beings, who have the

worst hang-ups about exposure, don't worry much about children, and I am

now seven years old."

He had to admit that was true.
 
A clothed juvenile centaur would not be

worth ogling, because even an ogre would know she had nothing to

conceal.
 
But he refused to give up on the quest.
 
"We'll just have to

establish that Imbri is an adult human female, and then have her remove

her clothing."

"But that would be improper," Imbri protested.
 
"A human woman

wouldn't."

"Precisely," Cathryn said.
 
"That makes it ogleable."

The logic was impeccable.
 
So, reluctantly, Imbri agreed.
 
She reformed

her dress, which was made of her own soul-stuff, so that it had a number

of pieces.
 
Then Forrest and Cathryn stood on either side of the peak,

serving as an audience.
 
Imbri, who had experience with male dreams,

explained what was required, so that they could make suitable comments

that would help attract the ogre's notice. Then Imbri stood on the

highest knoll and lifted her arms.

"Behold!" Cathryn said loudly.
 
"A modest human style female woman lady

is about to do a naughty strip tease dance, that no decent person should

observe."

"Great!" Forrest exclaimed, just as loudly.
 
"As an improper male type

faun I can hardly wait."

Then Imbri began her dance.
 
She stepped around, wiggling her bottom.

She was pretty good at it; her experience making daydreams must have

helped.
 
Then she kicked one foot high, so that her leg showed all the

way to the knee.
 
Her sandals were still protecting her from moving her

feet incorrectly, so that she managed to show only as much as she meant

to.

"Disgusting!" Cathryn pronounced.

"More!
 
More!" Forrest cried.

Imbri whirled, so that her skirt flared out and lifted, showing both

knees.

"Stop this vile display at once!" Cathryn said in her best imitation of

an adult voice.
 
"Don't you realize that a child might see?"

"Who cares?" Forrest demanded irresponsibly.

There was a faint shudder in the ground.
 
Either the earth itself was

disgusted at the display, or an ogre was stirring far away.

Imbri took hold of the kerchief she had formed and drew it from her

head.
 
She tossed it into the air, where it fluttered a moment, then

dissolved into vapor.

"Indecent exposure!" Cathryn protested.

"Take it off!
 
Take it off!
 
" Forrest insisted wickedly as he sat down

on the Ground.

The ground rumbled.
 
Something huge was trudging in their direction.

Imbri worked off her blouse and threw it at Forrest, who caught it and

sniffed it in as vulgar a manner as he could imagine.
 
Actually it was a

very nice blouse, with a faint smell of fresh hay.
 
It was Mare Imbri's

natural soul substance.
 
Then it dissolved, because of course she

couldn't afford to get fragmented.

"Absolutely revolting," Cathryn proclaimed.

"Divine," he countered sincerely.

Imbri was now dancing in a bright red halter and skirt, and really did

look nice.
 
She was small, because of her lack of much soul substance,

but well formed, and the tight halter offered a strong hint of even

better things to come.
 
Especially when it bounced with the vigor of her

motions.
 
Forrest was intrigued despite knowing that this was only an

act.
 
There was something about clothing that enhanced interesting

aspects into exciting aspects.

Imbri kicked up a leg, and one of her slippers went flying.
 
Then she

danced closer and kicked off the other, and such was her position that

Forrest saw halfway beyond the knee.
 
That was dangerously close to

panty territory!
 
"Awesome!"

But as he sat, half stunned by the prospect, the slipper hit him on the

forehead.
 
It didn't hurt him; it felt more like a kiss as it dropped

and dissolved.

Then the ogre arrived.
 
"Who she me see?" he demanded.

Startled, Forrest turned to him.
 
"You must be Ogle Ogre," he said. It

was a good guess, because the ogre's eyes seemed to bulge halfway out of

their sockets.
 
There was something else about him, but Forrest wasn't

certain what it was.

"From dawn to dawn, me ogre, you faun," he agreed.

"Oh, come off it, Ogle," Forrest said.
 
"We know you don't really talk

in stupid rhymes."

The ogre looked crestfallen.
 
"What gave me away?"

"Nothing.
 
It was Orgy Ogre who let slip the secret.
 
We want to make a

deal with you."

"I am not interested in any deal.
 
I came merely to get a closer look at

your dancing maiden.
 
She was just about to reveal something

interesting."

"No I wasn't," Imbri said as her blouse, kerchief, and shoes reappeared

on her body.

"Then I'm out of here," the ogre said crossly.
 
"I can't crunch you

because you know my nature, and if I can't ogle you, then any further

dalliance here becomes pointless."

"He has a soul," Imbri murmured.
 
"See that faint glow."

That was the oddity Forrest had noted.
 
What an unlikely place to

encounter a soul!

Imbri reconsidered.
 
"Suppose I dance while you negotiate with the

faun?"

Ogle considered, and his eyeballs heated to a dull red.
 
I 'Okay," he

concluded in due course.

So Imbri resumed her dance, with all her clothing in place.
 
She did not

look perfectly pleased, but yielded to necessity.
 
Also, she seemed to

enjoy dancing, and might have done it for pleasure, if it were not for

the ogling.

"We need to know where to find a suitable ogress to go stay with Orgy in

his bashable castle and applaud his heroic efforts," Forrest said.

"That would be 016 Ogress.
 
She's not phenomenally ugly, but she is

extremely enthusiastic." The ogre's eyeballs were unwaveringly oriented

on Imbri, who was twirling her skirt dangerously high.