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"Who?"
"Nimby is a striped dragon with the head of a donkey who knows what is going on. He assumes human
form and travels with Chlorine, a beautiful young woman who was sent to guide us by the Good
Magician."
"I don't know her either. What's her talent?"
"Poisoning water."
"Garden variety. But that dragon you describe-there must be some mistake. He might be able to turn
human, or to know things, but not both. There's a pretty strict limit of one talent per person."
"I think he said that one was a talent and the other was inherent."
"Maybe. But I'm pretty sane now, and that sounds wrong. There is something strange about Nimby."
Jim laughed. "There is something strange about this whole land!"
"Better than the excruciating dullness of Mundania." To that he had no answer.
They made good time, and in due course Mentia indicated the turn off road. "Now we're leaving the
enchanted path," she reminded him. "It may get nasty."
"I know." There had been a time, two days or two millennia ago, when he would have laughed at magic.
Now he felt a dread respect for it.
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But instead of turning ugly, the scenery turned beautiful. "Hey, look at the flowers!" Karen cried,
peering out her window.
"Those look like carnations," Mary said. "A whole field of them."
Mentia looked. "Uh-oh. Those look like re-incarnations. Growing wild and strong in the madness."
Jim experienced a chill. "What magic will they do?"
"Regular ones aren't too bad," the demoness said seriously. "Folk sniff one, and have a strong memory
of a loved one. If they sniff several together, they may actually see and hear the loved one. But this is a
whole broad expanse, strengthened by the magic dust. I think you should try to avoid smelling them."
"Close the windows!" he called back to the others. But he was too late; David had opened his. The thick
perfume of the flowers was circulating in the vehicle.
Suddenly Jim saw his father standing by the road, waving. He slowed to pick him up; he hadn't seen his
father since five years ago, when-
"Keep moving!" Mentia said. "Don't stop. Get on out of here."
"But that's my father," Jim protested.
"Drive on-or I'll drive for you."
That jolted him out of it for a moment. "A demoness can drive an RV?"
"Metria learned how, last year, so I know it too. This thing is similar to a pickup truck. Keep moving."
His father had disappeared, and he realized that it had indeed been an illusion. His father was dead.
"You didn't stop for Grandpa," Sean said. "Go back, Dad!"
"He's dead!" Jim said.
Sean was set back. "I forgot. That's weird."
"Oh, like a wraith," Karen said. "Don't believe them."
A woman appeared on the road. "Oh, there's my godmother," Mary said. "I must talk to her."
Woofer growled.
"No," Jim said grimly.
"But we can't leave her here!" she said, releasing her seat belt and getting up.
"She's not real," he said, accelerating.
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"Jim! I'm surprised at you. How can you say such a thing?"
"He's right, Mom," Karen said. "It's the magic. Don't be fooled."
Then they drove beyond the field of flowers, and the fragrance faded. Mary returned to her seat. * 'Of
course that couldn't have been her," she said. "But she seemed so real."
"They do," Mentia said. "But if you stop for them, at this strength of fragrance, you might never get
away again. As soon as you escaped the ambiance of one flower, another would get you. Probably they
would have gotten you anyway, had you been afoot; but in your rapidly moving truck you were too fast
for them. That's why I said not to stop."
"You were indeed the sensible one," Jim agreed. Mary nodded, appreciating the ability of the demoness.
Sense was likely to be what they needed most in the next few hours.
A mountain loomed before them. "That's it," Mentia said.
"We can't drive up that!" Jim protested, glancing at her, and catching a considerable eyeful of her
burgeoning cleavage. Where had her sweater gone? Apparently she had changed into something more
comfortable, in her magic fashion. "This is a recreational vehicle, not a tank!"
"The demon path is inside. I will guide you to it. That is why I am here."
"Sorry, I forgot." Was that another effect of the dust of madness? No, probably merely the distraction of
her changingly provocative form. "Where's the entrance?"
"Follow me." She floated from her seat, through the windshield, and ahead of the RV.
"Keen creature," Sean remarked, peering ahead.
"Not your type," Mary said, a bit sharply.
Sean did not argue, but it was clear that he believed that anything that looked like that was his type. Jim
couldn't blame him; the demoness was about as well endowed a creature as was possible without
stretching the masculine imagination beyond repay. Those entities who could choose their appearance
usually seemed to choose impressively. Chlorine's appearance was chosen, after all.
Actually, he was glad to have Sean's reaction, because the boy had been unnaturally quiet since his close
call with the goblin dam, not evincing much interest in anything. Jim was afraid he had suffered a
concussion or some other hidden injury when the water swept him away. Now he was reverting to
normal, an excellent sign.
Mentia led them to a large old tree. She pointed to its trunk. Jim, now having had some experience with
such things, drew the RV slowly up to that trunk, which seemed to expand, and into it. Sure enough, it
was an illusion-covered aperture. An entry into the mountain.
They entered a dark tunnel. Jim turned on the headlights. They speared through Mentia's clothing,
silhouetting her shapely body. Then the clothing thickened, and the effect was lost. The demoness
floated back through the windshield and into her seat. "This spirals up inside the mountain. Just keep
going." She paused. "Those bright lights caught me by surprise. Did you see-?"
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