Faun and Games (8 page)

"Why do you feel that way?"

Forrest's ire was approaching the blow-off point.
 
"If you're not going

to help, I wish you'd go away so I can concentrate."

"I think we need to get at the root of your hostility.
 
Did you have bad

parenting as a child?"

"I never had parents!" Forrest snapped.
 
"I'm a faun.
 
We all get

delivered to the Faun & Nymph Retreat, where we stay until we go."

'."Do you want to talk about it?"

I 'No!" I The psychologist shook his head.
 
"I'm afraid we have a

difficult case here.
 
This may require many fifty minute sessions.
 
Why

don't you make yourself comfortable, and we shall proceed."

A bulb flashed over Forrest's head.
 
"You're part of the problem!" he

said.
 
"You're another Challenge!"

"By no means.
 
I am a Solution.
 
But you have to be amenable to It.
 
Now

I can help you, but you have to really want to change."

"I don't want to change!
 
I want to get across that moat!"

"This hostility is doing you no good.
 
I won't be able to help you if

you don't develop a better attitude."

Forrest considered.
 
If what the man said was correct, he was a Solution

rather than a problem.
 
But how could he help, when he just kept trying

to distract Forrest, or to make him give up his quest?

Forrest forced a moderate expression to his face.
 
"Exactly how do you

help people?"

"I encourage them to talk about their feelings, in this manner explating

them.
 
In the colloquial sense, I am called a shrink: one who shrinks

the head, making it intelligible and less burdensome."

A shrink!
 
Suddenly Forrest saw a possible way.
 
"You know, I have

problems.
 
But as you say, they are complicated and will take a long

time to shrink.
 
On the other hand,.
 
I suspect that the problems of

that" moat monster are simpler, and can be shrunk in much less time. Why

don't you help him first, so that there won't be a backlog'?"

"Why that is an appealing idea," the psychologist agreed.
 
He turned to

the mer-dragon.
 
"say there-let's talk."

"What for'?" the monster asked.

"I can see that you are troubled.
 
I wish to alleviate your concerns and

enable you to feel good about yourself."

"Of course I'm troubled," the monster said.
 
"I'm a monster!
 
Have you

any idea how dull it gets being confined to a circular moat?"

"Yes, I can appreciate that.
 
But you can't change the moat, you can

only change yourself.
 
Perhaps if you developed a better attitude about

it, you would feel less troubled."

"I would?" The monster was interested.

Forrest sat back and watched while the two talked.
 
And as they did, the

monster gradually shrank in size.
 
The shrink was doing his job.

, ,You cunning knave," Sire murmured behind him.
 
"You figured it out."

"Well, I didn't want to get shrunk myself," he agreed, satisfied. "So I

thought I'd get the monster shrunk instead."

When the monster was too small to reach the bridge, Forrest walked

across to the castle.
 
He was feeling halfway satisfied.

When he arrived at the inner shore, he discovered a set of metal tracks.

Beyond them was a blank wall.
 
The tracks and wall continued to either

side, with no room around them; they marked the only level ground

outside the castle.

So he picked a direction at random, and started walking between the

tracks.
 
Something swirled before him.
 
"I wouldn't do that, if I were

you," it said.
 
"Fortunately I'm not you."

"Are you still here, D.
 
Sire?" he inquired irritably.

"I have not yet quite fulfilled my half favor," she said, taking

luscious shape.

He had to stop walking, lest he collide with her form and get pressed in

three places again.
 
"Why wouldn't you walk here, if you had the awful

misfortune to be me?"

"Because the locomotive is coming, and there's no way to avoid it."

"Locomotive?" This was a new word to him.
 
"What is that'?"

"A great huge enormous giant crazy machine that thunders along these

tracks, squashing anything in its path."

"Oh-like a big dragon?"

"No.
 
More like a train of thought."

He looked at her.
 
"You can be pretty irritating."

"It's the flip side of my nature.
 
Those who are most capable of driving

a man wild with longing, also are capable of annoying him beyond

endurance.
 
I suppose I could demonstrate." Her clothing began to fuzz.

Forrest closed his eyes to avoid being freaked out by the sight of her

underclothing.
 
He knew she had no intention of playing nymph & faun

with him; she just wanted to drive him mad with desire.
 
That was how

demonesses entertained themselves: tormenting ordinary folk.
 
"So what

would you do, in my place?"

"I would get quickly back to the landing area.
 
Very quickly."

Forrest heard an ominous rumbling.
 
The tracks were shaking, and giving

out sounds of incipient power.
 
He turned, opened his eyes, and saw a

bright light in the center of a black blob coming toward him. He ran

back toward the bridge as fast as he could.

The blob expanded into a frighteningly large black onrushing machine.

Jets of white steam sprouted from it, and big puffs of roiling smoke

poured from a chimney at its top.
 
A piercing whistle came from it.

For-rest dived for the bridge.
 
He rolled and got his hoofs out of the

way just as the monster engine thundered across, as Sire had predicted.

He would have been squished flat, if she had not warned him.

"Thank you, demoness," he said.
 
"You saved me from an uncomfortable

experience."

She appeared above him, her skirt threatening to show too much of her

legs.
 
"Well, it would have been a waste, to have you squished into

oblivion when I was only one and a half challenges away from completing

my half favor."

"To be sure," he agreed.
 
He forced his eyes away from her knees, or

wherever, and climbed back to his feet.
 
"Now what would you do, if you

were in my place?"

"I would board that train before it gets moving again."

He realized that once it had missed him, the locomotive had puffed to a

stop not far along the tracks.
 
Behind it were hitched several cars, and

the door to one was open right before him.
 
It had many windows, in a

row somewhat above the level of his head.

So he put a hand on a rail and stepped up the steps, into the end of the

long car.

The whistle blew again, and the crazy engine puffed and resumed motion,

struggling to haul the cars along behind it.
 
The steps folded up behind

Forrest, sealing him in.
 
He was on his way somewhere.

"Of course I am not in your place," Sire murmured invisibly in his ear.

"Mentia might be able to handle this situation, but I doubt I could."

"What do you mean?"

But she had faded out.
 
He was on his own again.

There was only one way to go: on into the main portion of the coach.
 
It

was lined with plush seats, all of which were filled with unmoving human

figures.
 
They looked like statues, for their eyes never blinked.
 
That

made him nervous.

He walked along the center aisle until he found one seat that was empty.

The coach was shaking and its floor was heaving as it got up speed, so

it was hard for him to keep his feet.
 
So he sat in that one free seat.

He heard a sound beside him.
 
It was a young human woman, sobbing into a

hankie.

Forrest had no good notion how to deal with human women, as he had not

encountered many.
 
His sandalwood tree was in a part of the forest where

humans seldom wandered.
 
But it bothered him to be so close to someone

this unhappy.
 
Since there was no other place to sit, he decided that he

would have to try to deal with whatever was bothering the woman.

"Hello," he said.
 
"I am Forrest Faun.
 
Is there something I can do for

you?"

She turned her head and looked at him with her tear-rimmed reddened

eyes.
 
"Eeeeek!" she screamed.

This set him back slightly.
 
"Eeeeek?"

"A satyr!
 
As if I didn't have trouble enough already."

Oh.
 
I'm not a satyr," Forrest said firmly.
 
"I am a faun.
 
We are a

related but less aggressive species.
 
We chase after only willing

nymphs."

Her eyes began to clear, and her sniffles to snuffle out.
 
"You don't

pursue innocent maidens?"

"Definitely not."

"Well, all right then.
 
I am Dot Human, and my talent is making spots on

the wall."

"I'm sorry."

I 'Sorry?"

"That you don't have a decent magic talent.
 
Of course I don't have a