Sagaria (62 page)

“I think our jello-bellied acquaintance is returning as he threatened,” said Samzing glumly. “And, just as he said, he seems to be bringing his presumably equally ghastly friends with him.”

Snowmane’s hooves had made only a couple more muted thumps on the road when Samzing was proved right. The lights whooshed up and gathered around the companions like schoolchildren around a playground fight.

“See?” said the Jello Pudding Thought. “Them’s the ones I told you about. Think they’re the lords of the land when all the time they’ve got their heads stuffed right up their—”

“Hello,” said an exceedingly small thought, drifting up within inches of Flip’s face. Close up, he could see that it looked like a miniature pink elephant covered in green spots. To make matters even more bizarre, it was wearing a T-shirt rather like the one Sagandran wore. Backward on its head, balancing unsteadily, was a curiously pointless hat that seemed to be more hole than covering. The thought had what Flip guessed was its name stitched across either the front or back of this cap, depending on which way you chose to think about it.

“Hello, Red Sox,” said Flip politely.

The thought looked startled. “Why did you call me that?”

“Isn’t it your name?”

“No, why should it be?”

“I think you’ve put someone else’s hat on by mistake.”

Now the thought degenerated from startlement into consternation. “I think I’ll try somewhere different,” it mumbled as it fled.

Flip crossed his paws in satisfaction, trying to pretend to himself that he wasn’t puzzled by the alien thought’s odd behavior. Dealing with the attempts of thoughts to inveigle their way into your mind seemed to be a lot simpler than Samzing had imagined it was going to be.

The Lime Jello Pudding had been watching all this, and now it sneered. “I wouldn’t bother with that little twit if I were you,” it advised Red Sox, who had spontaneously burst into tears. “You’d be like an extra sardine in the can if you got inside his skull, I can tell you.”

Flip, who hadn’t a clue what a sardine was, but suspected it was something fishy, bristled pugnaciously on principle.

The Lime Jello Pudding paid him no heed but carried on comforting his friend. “Forget about him. Little squirts like him, they’re two a penny. Why not try the big fat one with the stupid face?”

Now it was Sir Tombin’s turn to indicate displeasure, which he did with a trademark harrumph.

A different thought emerged from the back of the throng. This one was shaped like a mermaid, its outer layer a fleshy pink. It was wearing nothing but a couple of sea shells and seemed not to care that this was at least one too few.

A sardine
, thought Flip, pleased with his own powers of deduction.

The sardine batted her eyes seductively at Sir Tombin (ignoring a protesting squeak from Red Sox of “But I saw it first!”) and said to him in a preposterously thick accent that Flip couldn’t identify, “’Ello, monsieur. You are, ’ow they say, such a fine figure of an
homme, n’est-ce pas
? ’Ow would you like unforgettable evening with
moi
in the seclusion
de votre
mind, big boy?”

“It’s extremely kind of you to make the offer, young lady,” said Sir Tombin with an obvious effort, “and your charms are exceptionally alluring, let me assure you with all honesty, but I fear my heart and my devotions are already in the possession of another.”

“Stuffy,” husked the sardine.

“No.” The Frogly Knight looked confused. “Queen Mirabella of Spectram, in point of fact.”

“Ah, but
mon ami
, she is, ’ow you say, there, and I am,
glorieusement
… here!”

“What you say may be true,” began Sir Tombin chivalrously, “but—”

“Oh, just tell her to get lost,” snapped Samzing. “It’s the only way to deal with creatures like these.”

“You are no
gentilhomme
, monsieur.”

“Nope. I’m a wizard. Your
maman
should have told you about wizards.”

Samzing gave a predatory leer and the sardine, her mouth popping into an “o” of dismay, bolted.

“Thanks, old fellow,” wheezed Sir Tombin. His face, Flip noticed, had gone an indescribable tint. The glowing thoughts were casting a motley of different hues, mainly gaudy, across the companions, and Sir Tombin’s skin had been green to begin with. Under the circumstances, it was hardly a wonder that the color of a blush should be difficult to describe.

Flip was just wondering if he should share this fascinating information with his friends or keep it until later when Red Sox gave a cry of delight and vanished.

“What happened?” said Flip, looking up the length of Samzing’s robe at the wizard’s stubbly chin.

“I think someone in one of the real worlds has just had that idea. It’s gone into Sagaria or the Earthworld to be used.”

“That’s right,” agreed the Lime Jello Pudding sourly. “Lucky devil. Seems to happen to everyone else here but me. I been here for years and
years
, whole millennia, I can tell you, and I’ve never even had an inquiry.”

“Perhaps it’s because you’re so unpleasant?” suggested Sir Tombin politely.

“I’ll have you not take that tone with me,” said the Lime Jello Pudding as another couple of the mob abruptly popped out of existence. “Any of you bunch ever heard of horror movies?”

None of them had.

“Well,” said the Lime Jello Pudding with a resigned expression on its, well, “face” wasn’t the right word, but it was the nearest Flip could think of.

“They’re things that have been invented in the Earthworld. Lots of people go along to them so that they can have the unpleasantest thoughts they’re able.”

“Why in the world would they do that?” said Sir Tombin.

“I dunno,” said the Lime Jello Pudding. “Beats me. They say if you go to one of these so-called ‘horror movies’ that it’s not any good unless you get to see your popcorn twice.”

“What’s popcorn?” asked Flip.

“Haven’t the remotest idea,” said the Lime Jello Pudding. “I don’t think anybody has. Anyway, I thought these horror-movie things might be my big opportunity, I did. People wanting repulsive ideas? Here’s me, fitting the bill
perfectly, in a manner of speaking. Only I guess that however revolting the ideas them folks are having, I’m even revoltinger.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Flip, trying to comfort the unfortunate creature. “Perhaps it’s the other way round. Perhaps you’re not revolting enough?”

Tears sprang into the Lime Jello Pudding’s many eyes. “That’s even worse.”

Plop
. Another of the colored blobs evaporated.

Plip
. Yet another.

Pleurp
. One more.

If this kept up much longer, the Lime Jello Pudding was going to be left on its own. It seemed to realize this, because it looked around uneasily then, in a move that rendered it more nauseating than ever, it became ingratiating. “I don’t suppose I could come along with you bunch, could I? You know, just for the ride? I’d be ever so well behaved. I’d not try to take over anybody’s mind or anything, and I don’t eat much. I’d—”

“No,” said Samzing firmly.

“But—”

“No.”

A little staccato string of popping noises indicated that the rest of the unclaimed thoughts had just been claimed. Even the sardine.

“Someone, somewhere, must have a very, very smutty mind,” observed Samzing drily.

“There’ll be more where those came from soon, I’m sure,” said Flip anxiously. “You won’t be alone for long.”

The Lime Jello Pudding looked even more dejected than ever.

Then it wasn’t there any longer.

“What an astonishing coincidence,” cried Sir Tombin. “At the very moment we were talking to it, it succeeds, after all these years, in getting itself thought.”

“I hope that’s all it was.” Samzing’s voice was contemplative. “I don’t suppose any of us got all soft-hearted and took it in, did we, Flip?”

“Not me,” said Flip in a less certain tone.

Sir Tombin gave him a long stern look. “You better not have Master Flip.”

“I didn’t take it in,” squealed Memo. “I’d know if I had.”

Sir Tombin was anxiously separating the lids of one of Snowmane’s eyes with two webbed fingers and examining the pupil as best he could in the darkness. “He seems to be all right.”

The horse snickered in protest at the indignity and the others listened to the sound for any symptoms of puddingnosity.

All seemed well.

“We’d better keep, ah, you know,” said Sir Tombin, “an extra-special lookout for each other for a while in case, you understand, one of us begins to behave a bit, harrumph, oddly, if you catch my drift.”

“Puddiculously, you mean?” said Flip.

There was a long silence.

“Let’s get moving,” said Samzing. “We’ve spent far too much time here.”

“Yes,” Sir Tombin hastily agreed. “There might be more of these infernal nuisances coming along at any moment.”

He tapped Snowmane’s rump lightly. “Sorry about that, old chap, but I had to be sure,” and the horse led the way down the invisible pathway.

Either the ground beneath his feet was rocking to and fro like the deck of a ship in stormy seas, or it was Sagandran himself who was doing the rocking. To judge by the soreness of his head, it was the latter.

Perima confirmed it. “Are you sure you’re safe standing up?”

“No.”

“Do you want to sit down again?”

“Yes, but I’d better not.”

“Put your arm around my shoulder.”

“A silver lining.”

“What?”

“I just meant that, oh, never mind. I’m not feeling great, Perima. Set it down to that.”

They made an ungainly hobble toward the crest of the ridge.

All that was left where the three Shadow Knights had been were three long piles of gray ash. There was no indication that these had been three living creatures a short while ago, however vile and compromised their souls. Of course, there was no sign at all of the evil wizard who had brought Sagandran and Perima into the Shadow World. His dust must have drifted on the wind to a million places by now.

Sagandran gulped loudly. “I killed him, didn’t I?”

Perima grinned. “Admirably.”

“I wish I could
feel
admirable about it.”

Her smile melted away. “Deicher had given so much of his essence to the Shadow Master that he wasn’t really alive any longer, Sagandran. He’d already destroyed himself. All you did was send his body down the same road that his soul had already gone. You were destroying the shell; the shell was all that was left.”

“I know that’s true, but—”

She squeezed his arm. “You’re all right, you know, Sagandran? You’re a good person. If you’d left the ‘but’ out of that sentence I’d be worried about you. As long as it’s still there, you’re okay.”

Sagandran found that the blue aluminum bracelet was in his hand. He wondered numbly how it had got there.

“I suppose this thing’s useless now,” he said. “Fariam told me it could defend us once and once only. I guess I should just chuck it away.”

“Keep it, Sagandran,” said Perima. “Its magic may have been all used up, but the meaning of the gift still remains. That’s got magic too – its own magic.”

“You’re right. Again.” He slipped it back onto his wrist. The metal felt dead now, against his skin. There was too much death around here.

They came to the top of the crest and were looking down into the blackness where the valley should be.

“Do you see? Over there?”

If it hadn’t been for a glint of pallid moonlight reflecting off Perima’s fingernail, Sagandran wouldn’t have known she was pointing.

“See what?”

“Lights. They look like lit-up windows.”

A long while later, the road stopped. Since the road was invisible in the ebony night, none of them knew how they knew this, but they all did. Ahead of them the blackness was just empty, nothing more.

“Hm. Perhaps we managed to come the wrong way after all, but I didn’t see any other path we could have taken.” For the first time since they’d arrived in the Shadow World, Samzing sounded completely at a loss. Flip didn’t like that at all. It made him even more nervous than the wobbly-shaped ideas had.