Demons Don’t Dream (31 page)

"Nothing I can tell you," Dug said hoarsely. "Just let me be."

Sherlock exchanged one long glance and two short ones with Jenny, and let it drop. The long glance bounced on the ground and shattered when it was dropped, but the short ones survived intact

But when Dug staggered, stumbled, and fell, Jenny took action. "You're my responsibility," she said. "Because I'm your Companion. I will get in trouble for not guiding you well if you lose because you are too ill to continue. We must find a healing spring. That will make you well."

Dug was now too sick to protest effectively. He knew that what she said was true. But he also knew that he had to persevere, or he would lose again to Pewter. He could not tell them why, lest the evil machine learn of his words through some spy, and be prepared to foil his ploy.

Sherlock made a travois from wood and vine, softening it with pillows. He lifted Dug onto it, and hauled him along that way. Jenny had Sammy find the nearest spring. She wasn't able to clarify its particular type: it seemed that to the cat, one spring was much like another. She was able only to establish that it not be a regular ordinary water source. It had to be a magic spring.

As it turned out, there was one not too far away. They reached it, but were cautious. Dug heard them discussing it, though he was now too tired to join the dialogue.

"We have to be sure it's a healing spring," Jenny said. "Because there are different kinds, such as love springs and hate springs. It will be worse than nothing if we dose him with the wrong kind of elixir."

"But how can we tell, without trying it?" Sherlock asked. "We don't want to taste a love spring or a hate spring either."

"We certainly don't!" she agreed. "No offense to you. Because a love spring isn't just romantic; it leads immediately to a violent summoning of the stork. That would be a violation of the Adult Conspiracy, because I'm still a child."

"We don't want to violate any conspiracy," Sherlock agreed. "But inaction isn't any good either; we have to test me water somehow. Could we just sniff a little, so all we get is a mere suggestion?"

"Maybe that will be all right," she agreed doubtfully. "Let me try it first. Then if I start getting romantic, or whatever, you run away."

"Those springs must be potent," Sherlock remarked.

"Exactly."

So Jenny got down and sniffed the spring. "Oh, I feel young!" she exclaimed.

"Well, you are young. What kind of spring is it?"

"Not a love spring," she decided. "I don't love you or hate you. But I do feel changed."

"So maybe you've been healed of whatever was bothering you," he said reasonably. "This must be the one we want."

"Maybe. I'm not quite sure. There's something odd about it. You better sniff it too, and see what you think."

Sherlock got down and sniffed. "Wow! I feel two years younger!"

"You look a bit younger too," she agreed. "Is it healing you?"

"No. I have a sore toe, and it's still sore."

"Maybe you should dip your toe, and see if it heals."

"Good idea!" Sherlock removed his shoe and dipped his sore toe. The skin turned fresh but did not actually heal.

Then they paused while an insect flew down to taste the water. But the insect turned into a grub.

"It must be a transforming spring," Jenny said. "It changed into another kind of bug."

"No, it reverted to its earlier form," Sherlock said. "Insects hatch from grubs. It's their youthful stage—" He broke off, realization coming.

"A youth spring!" Jenny cried. "This must be the Fountain of Youth! Nobody knows where it is, and we stumbled on it by accident!"

"Sammy didn't stumble on it," he reminded her. "He was looking for a magic spring."

"That's right. And what a spring he found! But it isn't the one we want. Dug's only a year older than I am, really; he doesn't want to be any younger."

"You're fifteen?" Sherlock asked. "I thought you were a child."

"I am a child, by game definition. But outside the game I'm sneaking up on adult status, and actually I know the secret of the Conspiracy. Maybe I look younger to you, because I'm an elf; I'm smaller than a human girl my age would be."

“That must be it," he agreed. "Well, none of us need this elixir, so we'd better move on. It's an irony, though; a lot of people would give their fortunes to drink from this."

"People are funny," she agreed.

Dug wanted to tell them to mark the place carefully, so they could find the spring again, because the knowledge would be invaluable. But his breath was so short he couldn't speak.

They resumed their search, following the cat to another spring. Dug caught a glimpse of it before Sherlock laid the travois flat on the ground. The spring was round, with a quilted surface, as if the waves lacked the energy to ripple properly. This time when Jenny sniffed, she turned over and lay down on the water. "It must be an ether spring, putting you to sleep!" Sherlock said, horrified.

"No it isn't," she replied. "It's a bed spring. Oh, I could just lie here forever and sleep." Indeed, she was floating on the soft water. It was one big water bed.

"Don't do that!" He bent down and picked her up. He carried her away from the spring, until she recovered enough to stay away.

"I guess you're right," Jenny said sadly. "This is not the time to rest. But it sure was the most comfortable bed I ever felt."

So they moved on again. Dug faded out, feeling delirious, so didn't know how long it took to reach it. But it was definitely later in the day.

Jenny sniffed it. Faint stars appeared in her eyes. "Oh, guest stars," she said, smiling. "I love them." Then she turned to look at Sherlock. "In fact, I love—"

"Get away from there!" Sherlock cried. "That's a love spring!"

"Much better than a hate spring," she replied dreamily.

"Get away!" he repeated firmly.

"Anything you say, you handsome creature." She moved languorously away. "Wouldn't you like to carry me again?"

"Not this time! You just breathe the air away from the spring for a while until it wears off."

Reluctantly the elf girt did so. Dug had never had reason to question the black man's decency, but if he had, this scene would have resolved it. He was getting just enough of a whiff of the spring to understand that it would be extraordinarily easy to take advantage of a situation.

So they set off for yet another spring, as the day waned. Dug hoped the next one wasn't a hate spring, because then Jenny and Sherlock might come to hate him, and leave him to expire alone.

As the sun set, they came to it. Jenny sniffed. "I think this is it!" she said, excited.

"You're not trying to trick me into tasting a love spring?" Sherlock asked.

"Dip your sore toe."

He did. "Hey—it healed!"

They brought some of the water to Dug. With the first drop on his lips he began to feel better. He swallowed, and felt better yet. He inhaled the vapor, and his lungs began to clear. This was definitely the healing elixir.

But his chest did not heal quite all the way. He knew why: he was still wearing the New Monia flower, and it was still sending illness into his lungs. He could have been better long ago, if he had just thrown that flower away. But he refused. He had to wear it just as if it were harmless.

"I'm better," he announced. "But I'd better take some of this elixir along, just in case of relapse." He dipped a small bottle in the spring, filled it, and corked it. It was amazing how sick he had felt, though he knew this was all pretense; an effect of the game couldn't touch him in real life. It certainly had seemed real, though.

It was now dusk. They foraged for food and camping materials, and set up for the night. There was no regular camping place here; evidently they had wandered from the normal route of the game. But if anything happened, they could heal quickly, because of the spring.

Dug thought he had been resting while the others worked, but now he discovered how tired he was. He sank into blissful sleep.

In the morning they resumed their trek, heading for Com-Pewter's lair. At first they had to pick their way through thick jungle. Dug wondered why, since it seemed to thin in a nearby valley. Then he saw a dragon feeding on something, and realized that the easiest route was not necessarily the best. Sammy Cat was leading them the safe way—which was where the dragons weren't foraging. His encounter with the Gap Dragon had been more than sufficient to teach him respect—and that had been merely a steamer, not a firebreather.

They heard a companion. There ahead was a clearing, and in the clearing was a giant spinning object "What's that thing doing here?” Dug demanded.

"I think that's the Big Top," Jenny said “It's part of another story. I don't think we had better mess with it"

Dug was learning to take such warnings seriously. "We leave it alone," he agreed.

Now they were able to use some of the paths; Sammy Cat seemed to feel these ones were safe. They came to another area of commotion. It seemed to be an enclosed field, with many animals confined. '”The stock market," Jenny explained. "It's full of charging bulls and bears. It's not safe for ordinary folk to enter. People get trampled there all the time, and wiped out"

Dug nodded. Literal bulls and bears. It figured The Mundane version was scary enough, he understood; he didn't need to mess with this one.

They also bypassed a big shopping centaur. Dug didn't even ask.

At last they approached the region of the evil machine. Dug remembered how easy it had been to reach it, before, using the shortcut But now they were in much better control. He would not be blindly stampeded into Pewter's cave.

This time he was able to appreciate how cunningly this particular trap was laid. The shortcut to success had indeed been a shortcut for an innocent who didn't ask where it went or whose success it meant. It had amounted to an enchanted path, safe from other hazards, lulling him into false security. Then the invisible giant had come, scaring him into the one seemingly safe place—which was the worst place.

Dug felt his lung congesting. He quietly took another drop of healing elixir, and felt better. The New Monia flower remained bright and firm, the color of diseased lung tissue with spots of congestion; it was still trying to do its job. That was the way he wanted it But he was really glad that Jenny had insisted on finding the healing spring; that made all the difference. Now, if his devious and punnish plan jest, uh, just worked ...

He had a spot decision to make. Should he be wary of the giant, and sneak in to confront Pewter by surprise? Or pretend to be spooked in the usual fashion, so that the evil machine did not realize what Player it was at first? He decided on the latter course; that would be easier, and would surprise Pewter just as much. Perhaps more, because it would seem that this was a new victim being driven in. A surprised machine was more likely to make a mistake, and that was what Dug wanted. Pewter was dangerous, but the game required that he could be beaten, and surprising him was surely the best strategy.

In fact, Dug had a different Companion now, and a fellow traveler. If Pewter saw them first, he would be sure that this was a different Player. He would probably figure that it was Kim, and so would be prepared to freak her out, rattling her and making her fail to think of whatever her winning strategy might be.

"Um, friends," Dug murmured. "Before we go on, there's something I must explain. I met up with Pewter before, and got skunked. I got kicked out of the game, and had to start over, with different paths and challenges. That's why I'm being so careful now. He's got a slick routine to drive folk into his cave, and then he changes reality to whatever he wants it to be. Now, Sherlock, this isn't your responsibility, so maybe you should wait here until I settle with him, one way or the other. But I think you're stuck for it, Jenny, being my Companion."

"Yes," Jenny said. "It's my job to warn you to stay away from Pewter. But I know you can't do that, because you have to beat him to cancel out what happened before. So I'll try to help you. But once we're there, I won't be able to do anything, because he'll just change my script. You're the only one who can stop him, and I don't know how you can do that. Sammy won't be able to help against him, either."

"Right. It's always the Player who has to handle the real crunch. If it's a game challenge. My illness wasn't supposed to be part of the game, so you and Sherlock got me out of it." He paused. "By the way, if I didn't say thank you before, I'll say it now. I really appreciate what both of you did for me during my illness, and I'll try to repay you some way."

"I just did what I'm supposed to," Jenny demurred.

"You'd have done the same for me, if I got sick," Sherlock said.

"I know that. But a False Companion might have just let me be, washing out. And there are plenty of folk who would have figured it was no skin off their noses. So both of you really helped me, and I hope I can turn in a good performance report on Jenny, or whatever it is, and I hope we'll find the ideal place for the Black Wave."

"Let's get on with the action," Sherlock said gruffly. Dug could see that the man wasn't much for compliments, and he liked that.