Part 27 (1/2)
Jaylin put her face to the oval, but couldn't quite see inside. So she poked her head through.
Suddenly the mist cleared, and she saw that the structure was a gallows, and she was standing on the platform, and had just poked her head through the hangman's noose. ”The wages of sin is death!” the leprechaun cried as he pulled a handle and a trapdoor opened beneath her feet. She was falling.
Jaylin screamed so piercingly that the entire scene shattered and collapsed in a heap of shards.
Then Putre was there, kicking the shards away, nudging her with his friendly nose. She grabbed his neck and cried into his mane. ”That was horrible!”
”Then it will do,” the leprechaun said, satisfied. ”Put it in the can, boys.”
Oh, yes: This was a mere demo. For a moment she had forgotten.
”Sorry we frightened you, la.s.s,” the leprechaun said. ”But you know this is the realm of bad dreams. They have to be awful, or they're no good, so to speak. The Night Stallion has strict standards.”
”I understand,” she said weakly.
”Now we'll show ye the way to the Web.”
They led the way through the forest, until it opened out onto a sheer dropoff. ”This is a dream aspect of the Gap Chasm,” the leprechaun said. ”And there's the edge of the Internet.” He gestured over the edge.
Putre walked forward, carrying Jaylin. They peered into the chasm-and there, attached to it in several places, were strands of a monstrous net that stretched entirely across the gap. Each strand was crisscrossed by other strands, so that the pattern of it was clear.
”A literal net,” Jaylin said faintly. ”I should have known.”
”It is our understanding that the Web is part of the Internet,” the leprechaun said. ”We regret that we can't be a wee bit more helpful, but it is all we know.”
”Thank you. I hope your bad dream is a big success.”
Then Putre set foot on the Internet, placing each hoof carefully at a junction of strands. Jaylin was quite nervous about this at first, but his footing seemed secure, and the net sagged only a little under his weight. They could cruise the net.
”But this net seems very big,” she said. ”It could take us a long time to search it all.”
”And it's growing all the time,” the speech balloon wrote. ”Maybe you should orient.”
”Orient?”
”The designated Ring Holders can sense the direction of their Rings.”
”I didn't know that.”
”Few do, because there has not been a call for the Rings of Xanth in several centuries.”
”So how do I orient?” But Jaylin answered her own question. She thought of the Ring of Void, and became aware of a direction. ”It's that way, I think,” she said, pointing.
Putre dutifully followed the instruction. He was gaining speed as he got used to the Internet. She was not about to hurry him; she didn't want any foot to slip.
”How did you come to have such a-such a name?” she inquired.
The speech balloon appeared. ”Each night mare a.s.sociates with a sea of the moon. My dam was Mare Imbrium, and her hoofprint leaves a small map of the moon with her sea highlighted. That identifies the dreams she carries. I, being her foal, a.s.sociate with a lesser region in her lee. In fact, it is a marsh or swamp, somewhat festering, named Palus Putredinus. Since I am now a zombie, it seems to be a fitting designation.”
”You don't seem festering to me,” she said.
”I was zombied very soon after dying, so there is hardly any rot.”
”And do your hoofprints show that marsh?”
”Yes, of course, and the initials PP. You can see my marsh on the face of the moon, if you look carefully beside the Mare Imbrium. But no one cares about that, since I do not deliver dreams. Only the mares can do that.”
”Well, I'm glad that freed you to help me.”
The speech balloon did not reappear, but another little heart floated up.
Guided by her sense of direction, they came in due course to the Web. It differed from the Net in that instead of square intersections, it was a giant circle with many cables radiating from its center. It was plainly a very big spiderweb. That made Jaylin nervous.
Putre set hoof on the outermost strand. Immediately there was a vibration as something large came toward them. Putre tried to remove his hoof so he could back off, but it was stuck to the strand.
Belatedly Jaylin realized that this was of course the way it would work: Anything touching the Web would be stuck there until the proprietor came to gobble it up.
”Save yourself!” the speech balloon wrote. ”Get off me. Don't touch the Web!”
Jaylin was tempted, but two things stopped her. First, she didn't want to desert the loyal horse. Second, she realized that the Web and spider had to be braved in order to get the Ring. So she remained mounted, and cudgeled her quailing brain for some bright idea what to do.
The spider charged toward them, its eight hairy legs touching the intersections of the Web without a miscue. When it came close, she saw that it had a human face. Amazed, she spoke without thinking, which was just as well, because otherwise she would have been tongue-tied. ”What are you?”
The spider stopped at the edge of the Web, looming over them. ”I am Arachid, a human/spider crossbreed, of course. Now if you are satisfied, I will just truss up and haul away this carca.s.s for later consumption.” It strung out some web and faced Putre.
”No!” Jaylin cried.
”No? Why not?”
”He-he's my horse. I need him to carry me away from here.”
Arachid gazed down at her with eyes she realized were multifaceted.
”I think you need have no concern about that, since you will not be going anywhere.”
”But-”
The spider flung a loop of silk that la.s.soed her neatly, tightening stickily around her arms and pinning them to her sides. ”You appear to be a delectable morsel. It will be a real pleasure sucking out your juices.”
Jaylin was too appalled even to scream.
A huge speech balloon appeared over Putre's head. ”YOU CAN'T DO THAT!”
Arachid glanced at him, unimpressed. ”You prefer me to suck out yours first?”
”She's the designated holder of the Ring of Void.”
”Sure, and I'm the Night Stallion. Now if you are quite done entertaining me with fanciful stories-”
”LOOK AT HER!” the speech balloon wrote urgently.