The Color Of Her Panties Part 29

It turned out to be nice enough, in the shelter. The burning waterlog warmed it as it baked the fish and toasted the chestnuts and biscuits.

There was a roar. The three travelers sat up, alarmed.

"What's that-a waterfall?" Mela asked.

"No, only a water dragon," the demoness replied.

"Is it dangerous?"

"Only to mortals."

"We're mortals!"

"Oh, that's right; I forgot. In that case you're in trouble."

They peered out the door of the shelter. There was the glowing outline of the toothy head of a dragon. It was about to chomp the raft.

Okra grabbed the burning waterlog by its unburning end and hurled it into the dragon's maw.

The dragon swallowed the log. It looked faintly surprised. It burped.

It was not a fire breather, of course; few of that kind liked the water.

It gulped water from the river.

Steam began to hiss from its ears. Then it submerged.

"Doesn't it know you can't put out a waterlog with water?" Mela asked.

"Water is its fuel."

"I don't think it does know," Ida said, not feeling unduly sorry for the dragon.

"That one won't be back," the waif said. "It will take it days to digest that fire, and then it won't feel excruciatingly excellent."

"Feel what?" Okra asked.

"Never mind!" Mela said. "Just so long as it's gone."

"I'm sorry I used up your waterlog," Okra said contritely.

"Under the circ.u.mstances, I'll forgive you," Mela said with two thirds of a smile. "I do have another at home."

"Are there any more water dragons?" Ida asked.

"Not on this river," the waif said. "I'm afraid this will be a dull float."

"How unfortunate," Mela said dryly, which was a rare mode for her.

So for the next day or so-it was hard to be sure, since the light never changed-they ate and talked and slept, floating down the dark river. The word must have spread among the local water dragons, because there were no other attacks.

Finally they came to the appropriate region. They drew the house raft onto a dark beachlet and walked toward the increasing light of the demons' mysterious project. "Remember," the waif whispered, "the demons will try to fool you, without actually lying. Every time they do, I will try to sell a match. Then you will know.

Soon they encountered an office cave with a demon at a desk. "Who in heaven are you?" the demon swore.

Mela took the initiative. "We are merely three women and a waif, come to see Nada Naga."

"Who says?"

"The Good Magician Humfrey says. He told us to talk with Nada.

The demon looked at a book which appeared in his hand. "There is no demoness by that name here."

"Match?" the waif begged, proffering her box.

The demon scowled across the desk at her. "Who the delight are you?"

"I am just poor sweet little Woe Betide, eking out her paltry living selling accords."

Oops! Metria had tried to say too much, and had miscued a word.

"Selling what?" the demon demanded, a wisp of smoke curling up from one tusk.

"A cord of matches," Mela said quickly. "Or only one. Whatever you care to buy, to help the poor innocent defenseless big-eyed cute little waif."

The demon frowned. The wisp of smoke formed a floating question mark.

Possibly he was suspicious. A golden coin appeared in his hand. "I will buy a match," he said.

"O thank you ever so much, Sir Demon!" Woe cried ecstatically. She gave him a match.

He took the match and flipped it into the air. It did not puff into smoke and dissipate. He caught it and scratched it briskly across the suddenly marbled surface of the desk.

It burst into flame. It really was a match.

Meanwhile Woe had given them the hint: the demon was trying to temporize. What? Ida asked herself. Deceive, cheat, dupe, mislead, delude, she answered herself.

Fool? Whatever. So they had to find out what he was hiding. He had said that there was no demoness by the name of Nada Naga here.

Mela seemed to have pursued a similar chain of thought.

"We did not say that Nada was a demoness. She is a mortal of the naga persuasion."

"Oh, that Nada. She is too busy for visitors at the moment."

"Match?" Woe inquired.

"I already bought one!" the demon snapped.

"No one can be too busy for the Good Magician's business," Mela said.

"We must talk with her."

The demon sighed. The wind of his sigh was tinged with frustrated-looking smoke. "Very well. I will have a demon take you to her."

"Match?"

"If you bug me again, Ms. Betide, I will turn you into a silly piece of putty!" the demon snapped.

Woe puffed up. "I'd like to see you try, basiliskbreath!"

All three others closed in on her. "Oh, were you frightened by a basilisk?" Ida asked solicitously.

"Poor little thing!" Mela said.

"I will go stomp on it," Okra said.

Mela turned to the demon. "The poor waif isn't quite right in her mind.

I think a basilisk thought about breathing on her mother. I think a regular demon would frighten her. Could you have a demoness show us the way instead?

The demon blew a double smoke ring tinged with fire.

"Anything to get rid of you. Which one do you want?"

"Magpie," Okra said.

Suddenly the demons suspicion doubled. "How do you know of the one nice demoness?"

"I'm an ogre girl," Okra said. "Magpie came to help at our banquets.

She told me how she helped similarly when Rose of Roogna married the Good Magician."

The demon turned pages in his ledger. "I see that Magpie did serve at the Good Magician's wedding to Rose of Roogna. That was a demon extravaganza."

"A what?" Woe asked.

"A bash, event, shindig, fancy occasion, celebration--"

"Blowout?" Woe offered.

"Whatever," he said crossly. Then he stared at her suspiciously.

"There's only one creature I know who-"

"Please summon Magpie to guide us," Mela said urgently. "I'm sure she'll be just fine."

"Anything to get rid of you." He snapped his fingers, making sparks fly out, and a grandmotherly figure appeared.

"Magpie!" Okra exclaimed, hugging her.

"My dear, how you've changed!" the demoness exclaimed.. "You look almost human!"

"It's this clothing I have to wear among the human folk, " Okra said, embarra.s.sed.

"But you look almost nice!"

"I know," Okra agreed, more embarra.s.sed.

"And who are these folk with you? I see that one's human, one's from the sea, and one's-"

"A poor innocent match girl waif!" Mela cried.

Magpie gazed at Woe, evidently not for an instant deceived. "Yes, of course," she said. "Well, where is it you need to go?"

"To see Nada Naga," Mela said. "The Good Magician sent us."

"Very well. Right this way." Magpie walked briskly down a new tunnel that appeared in the rock.

They followed. First Mela, then Okra, then Ida, then Woe. Woe moved up to pace Ida. "She knows, but she's despicably nice," she murmured. "She wouldn't hurt anyone for anything, even another demon. So she's letting me pa.s.s."

"Maybe you can follow her example," Ida murmured back.

"Why?

Ida realized that it was useless to suggest ethics or niceness to a demon. Demons had no souls. They merely did what pleased them, in their various ways. It pleased Magpie to be a nice emulation of a human being; it pleased Metria to be mischievous and curious. They could be trusted to be those things, and no more. Since there were times when it was necessary to work with demons-such as right now-it was best to have a realistic understanding of their natures.

So she revised her answer. "It might be entertaining."

"I doubt it."

So much for that notion.

They came to a cavernous chamber, or perhaps a chamberous cavern. A lot seemed to be going on at once.

Demons were everywhere, doing mysterious things. There was a flying dragon in one corner, using a dummy model of a human being for target practice. The curious thing was that the dragon kept missing. Ida realized that it was trying to come as close as it could without actually scoring. Demons were measuring paths, apparently making them as narrow as possible without preventing human pa.s.sage. Others were digging holes in the ground, and fashioning cunning covers for them, to make them look like safe paths that would actually give way under the weight of unwary travelers and dump them down.

"This looks like a bad dream factory!" Woe murmured. "I wonder whether they're setting up in compet.i.tion to the gourd realm."

"Why?" Ida asked.

The demoness seemed taken aback. "It might be entertaining," she said after a pause."

"I doubt it," Ida said.

"So much for that notion," Woe said.

Ida had a feeling of deja-vu, but couldn't think of the term and wouldn't have known its meaning anyway, so had to let it go.