“Of course there is,” Batoness printed. “Protagonism guarantees it.”

  Apoca wished they could just get on with their mission somewhere else. But things were seldom that simple when they were in a narrative.

  “I’ll go check him out,” Nolan said. He was never hesitant about getting things done.

  “You do that,” Apoca said. “I’ll rest here. I’m not keen on haunted houses, other than yours in Thanx, Ghorgeous.”

  “I will show you the way, Nholan,” Ghorgeous said, walking ahead, her hips flexing sexily. Apoca realized she had made a tactical error, letting him go alone with the ghost, but she was stuck with it. Not that she thought he would stray. Just that she was coming to resent his receiving the attentions of any other woman, particularly a comely one. She had never thought of herself as a jealous woman, but it seemed she had the potential now that she had a man to care about.

  They departed, but Gent and Vinia remained. They got about exploring the local terrain. Apoca realized that they were giving Apoca and Batoness time to get to know each other better.

  “I am new to this scene,” Batoness printed. “I don’t have background information. Normally I start at the beginning of a story, not in the middle. Do you care to fill me in?”

  “Gladly. Nolan asked the Good Magician who his ideal woman was, and that turned out to be me. So he came to court me, and I believe he is winning his case. We already have a future daughter. But his service for his Answer is to solve the problem of talents, so that all new children don’t have the same one, that of conjuring pies. I am helping him in significant part because I don’t want our child to be stuck with that talent.” She paused about two-thirds of a moment, then resumed before the moment could be complete, hoping she wasn’t unkindly teasing it. “I don’t think she does have that talent, or any other, so it seems we will succeed, in a manner. But the way is unclear. It appears we must enable the Dwarf Demon of Talents to win the Dwarf Demoness he fancies. We are being subjected to repeated stories of romance involving males winning females who had seemed to be out of reach. Boy gets Girl. There is evidently a clue there, but so far we have been too dull to catch on to it. So we are plodding on, perhaps until we do somehow catch on. You may be an example: Baton wanted you, you did not want him, but now he can court you.”

  “Oh, he’s all right. But I was unwilling to remain in my dull routine with the fairy tales, and he was part of that routine. But joining him in a narrative relating to capital-D Demons transforms that picture. So yes, Baton will get me, in due course, just as Nolan will win you. We females are prizes that can be won when the offer suffices.” Batoness paused the remaining third of the moment. “But maybe we can change the script a bit. How about enabling Girl to get Boy?”

  Apoca was intrigued. “Can we do that? Change the script?”

  “I’m not sure. But I’m tired of following scripts. They tend to be repetitive and dull. Let’s look for an opportunity to make the change.”

  “Let’s,” Apoca agreed. She began another moment of pause. “Starting with what Nolan is up to now. I’ll wager it’s another Boy/Girl story. Let’s see if we can flip it to a Girl/Boy story.”

  “Let’s,” Batoness agreed, adding a pleasure emoticon.

  Apoca glanced at the nickelpede on her shoulder. “Nimbus?”

  “Connected,” Nimbus said. “Aurora and I thought you’d never ask.”

  The picture formed before them: what Nolan was seeing. Immediately before him was the evocative outline of Ghorgeous, now not bothering to form the image of a dress. She had evidently been flashing him with her backside throughout. How long could he ignore that? Fortunately she lacked the substance to make her whole body visible; an outline was all it was. She had also forgotten to form panties. As temptation went, this was minimal. He seemed to be handling it well enough, knowing that it had no more reality than a picture. In any event, he was not interested in forming a more durable interest in a ghost. She hoped.

  They were approaching what appeared to be a haunted jailhouse. It was decrepit, with dirty walls, cobwebs, and broken glass on the floor. Eager weeds crowded it. But there was one reasonably clear path to the front door. Ghorgeous faded out, recuperating from her efforts of guidance and presentation.

  Nolan navigated that path, opened the rickety door, and went inside. It was gloomy but roomy. Inside was a barred prison cell, with a single prisoner lying on a plain cot, asleep.

  “Hello,” Nolan said.

  The man woke. He sat up, put on his crown, stood, and approached the gate. “I haven’t seen you before.”

  “I am Prince Nolan Naga, passing through.”

  “Ah. I am Prince Morose of the Mini Kingdom of Modicum.”

  “This is zombie country, but you don’t look like a zombie.”

  “I’m not. I hate zombies. Neither am I a criminal. It’s a dull story.”

  “I will be happy to hear it.” Nolan reached for the gate.

  “Nuh-uh!” Morose warned. “Don’t touch it. It’s spelled to give a horrible shock, so I can’t escape.”

  Nolan jerked his hand away. “Now I really want to hear your story. Why should a living prince be locked into a cell in zombie territory without even a guard to watch him?”

  Morose went back to sit on the cot. “I am of age to marry, and of course I have to marry a princess. But when I looked over the local princesses my parents selected for me, I rejected them all. So now I am confined in uncomfortable quarters and fed gruel twice a day, in the hope that I will change my mind.”

  “Like Mnemonica,” Apoca said, knowing the bugs would not relay their dialogue. “Only this is a male.”

  “We must be alert to convert it to a female variant.”

  “Princes are generally expected to marry princesses,” Nolan said. “I faced the same situation. Now I am courting a queen my age, and we expect to have a lovely daughter in due course. Why don’t you want to marry a princess? It is generally expected of princes, as commoner maidens, however alluring they can be for passing dalliances, lack the training and connections to benefit the kingdom.”

  Morose smiled. “So you really are a prince. I’d be happy to marry a princess. But the selection is poor. One is so ugly she looks like a pig. Another is old enough to be my mother. Another is crazy; she thinks she’s a dragon, but she’s no crossbreed. Another is gay, wanting nothing to do with a man. One is a sadomasochist, preferring the sadist role. One is so lazy they have to bring her meals to her bed and dump her potty for her. Another is so stupid she can’t figure out whether it is morning or evening, let alone how to handle a routine royal audience. Not one of them is appealing for a virile young man.”

  “He’s got a point,” Apoca said. “I faced a similar problem with prospective princes or kings, once I had time to consider prospects. I am fortunate Nolan entered my scene.”

  “You are,” Batoness agreed. “He is handsome, apart from being otherwise qualified. That helps.”

  “It does, much as it annoys me to admit it. Now I can’t be sure his appearance isn’t blinding me to his defects.”

  “What defects?”

  “That’s the problem. He must have some, but I am blind to them.”

  “You may have to search beyond the local kingdoms,” Nolan said. “I did.”

  “That’s one problem with being the prince of a mini-kingdom. Only other minis are interested, and distant minis can’t afford far-flung liaisons. As a naga prince you have far more clout than I do.”

  “True,” Apoca said.

  “Perhaps,” Nolan agreed.

  “So I simply had to balk,” Morose said. “It has been good to talk with you but you can’t help me, unless you have a pretty naga princess sister who would be interested.”

  “I have no sister, and the naga princesses I know are taken. So I regret you are correct. I am unable to help you. Can I at least bring you anything?”

  Morose laughed humorlessly. “Maybe some rat poison? The rats seek to nibble my toes when I sleep, and I can’t get rid of them.” Indeed, there were rats lurking balefully in the shadows.

  “Maybe I can scare them off.” Nolan changed to serpent form and launched at a shadow, catching a rat by surprise. He flung it across the room. Then he changed back. “Listen, rats, it annoys me to have my friend harassed. Don’t make me have to return here.”

  There was the scratching of rats’ feet over broken glass as the vermin scrambled to depart, terrified.

  “Why does that remind me of Mundanian literature?” Batoness asked.

  “Who cares?” Apoca said. “They’re all hollow men.”

  “I am impressed,” Morose said. “I had thought those rats were fearless.”

  “Naga and rats have a long history. The rat who doesn’t fear a naga soon becomes the naga’s next meal.”

  “It’s true,” Apoca said. “I’ve seen him eat a pie rat.”

  “I owe you a favor,” Morose said. “If we should meet again.”

  “No need.” Nolan departed.

  Outside, Ghorgeous reappeared, this time her face and décolletage. “I could see myself being his princess, assuming I had the rank and substance.”

  “You really want to be real again? I mean, physically?”

  “I’d give anything to be physical again. I lost my body at the height of my maidenly appeal. I could give a man so much, if I only had it to give.”

  “I’m almost sorry for her,” Apoca said. “She flirts with Nolan because flirting is all she can do.”

  The scene with Nolan faded. He was on his way back.

  “That gives me an idea,” Batoness printed. “We need to find a princess for Prince Morose, played from her perspective.”

  “There don’t seem to be many likely prospects.”

  “Maybe Ghorgeous can help. Contact her via your telepathic bugs. Nolan doesn’t need her to show the way back. She can do a spot search.”

  “And we don’t need her to show him more of her back,” Apoca said with some asperity.

  In less than half a moment the bugs had contacted the ghost, explaining what was wanted: a suitable local princess, if any existed. “I’m on it,” Ghorgeous agreed.

  By the time Nolan returned, Ghorgeous had a prospect. “I found the perfect princess. Beautiful, smart, motivated, and well connected. Only two problems.”

  “There’s always a problem,” Apoca said tiredly.

  “She’s two weeks underage.”

  “Time will take care of that.” She smiled. “About half a month.”

  “And she’s a zombie.”

  Oops. Time would not take care of that. “He hates zombies. That’s why they put him in zombie territory. To wear him down faster.”

  “Why do you even mention her?” Batoness asked.

  “Because she’s a very fresh zombie. No sign of rot. She could pass for a live girl, at least for a few more days.” The ghost paused a ghost of a moment. “One problem there, though.”

  “Let’s have it,” Apoca said.

  “She’s honest. She refuses to pretend to be something she’s not.”

  “Like a living girl,” Apoca said.

  “Yes.”

  “So again, why do you offer her as a prospect?”

  “Dead folk can do a lot, when circumstances are right. My ghost friends and I helped save the Queendom of Thanx from the invaders. Now we are citizens of Thanx, with our very own haunted house there that children like to visit. They know that not all ghosts are spooky, apart from the show we put on for the house.”

  “That’s right,” Vinia said. She and Gent had returned from their exploration. “The kids really like the spook shows, so long as they know the ghosts are faking it and won’t really scare anyone to death.”

  “So what can a zombie do?” Apoca asked. “Morose doesn’t need to be spooked.”

  “She can free him. That magic electric shock hurts only living folk. A zombie could open the gate and let him out.”

  “That still won’t solve his problem. He needs to marry a princess, or be forever in trouble with his family. He’ll never be King of Modicum without a wife.”

  “I am thinking that he might be just a wee bit peeved by the requirement, at least when it means marrying an unattractive woman. Maybe even enough to mess them up by openly marrying a zombie, if he liked her. That would pay them back, no?”

  Apoca considered. “Could he come to like her?”

  “If he got to know her well enough. Alive she would be perfect. Dead she is still almost perfect.”

  “For a few more days.”

  “Here’s the thing about that. If there is the one thing that will preserve a zombie, it is the knowing love of a living person. It can’t cure the zombie, but it can prevent her from deteriorating any further, as long as the love lasts. She could be a passable queen.”

  Apoca was becoming intrigued. “Odd couples can fall in love.”

  “Like Squid and Chaos,” Vinia agreed. “She’s a cuttlefish and he’s the strongest Demon ever, but their love is real.”

  “A live man and a beautiful zombie,” Apoca said. “Men don’t necessarily care much what’s inside a woman, so long as what’s outside looks good. But it’s likely to take a while, with close association. That needs to be arranged.”

  “If something should block off the front door, they might have to use a more devious route to escape the prison,” Ghorgeous said. “There are dangerous caverns.”

  “Struggling through together,” Apoca said. “So they really have to depend on each other. That can evoke feelings.”

  “That gradually intensify,” Batoness printed. “I have seen it many times.”

  “I have experienced it once.”

  The four of them, a woman, a girl, a ghost, and a Batoness of Protagonism, settled down to their devious design. The poor prince hardly had a chance.

  Soon they had their plan. “But we want to see it happen,” Vinia said.

  “Baton will help, if I ask him to,” Batoness printed. “He is free now, since he is off duty.”

  “Contact him,” Apoca said. “Use your feminine persuasion.”

  “Baton,” Batoness printed, “will you grant me a favor? I would be most appreciative.” She paused a full pause. “Yes, for this favor I would return my favor.” Her speech balloon assumed the shape of a heart, then became an outline of a curvaceous bare woman, similar to what Ghorgeous had shown Nolan. It was symbolic, but she was promising a lot.

  There was another pause. The outline moved as if being embraced and kissed. Baton was definitely interested. He was a typical male.

  “After the job is done,” Batoness printed.

  The next pause was disappointed but resolute.

  “He’ll do it,” Batoness reported. “He will animate protagonism for Prince Morose.”

  “Now we need to get the zombie princess there,” Apoca said. “How close to the prince is she?”

  “Too far,” Ghorgeous said. “It will take her a wheek to trek there.”

  “By which time she’ll be well rotted,” Vinia said.

  “We need her there within the hour,” Apoca said. “Can we arrange transport?”

  “I will notify the local zhombie king. He’ll support our effort, because his kingdom could bhenefit significantly by a living phrince marrying a zhombie.” She faded out.

  “And ask him where the plaque is,” Apoca called after her. “You know: not here.”

  “I will,” her fading voice came.

  Prince Nolan arrived. “I have news.”

  “Of a prisoned prince,” Apoca said. “The bugs relayed the sequence.”

  “Oh, of course. I forgot.”

  “Forgiven.” Apoca stepped up to him and kissed him, reminding him that whatever a ghost might hint, there was a woman in his life who could do more than hint. “You are in time to watch our plot unfold.” She caught him up on the details.

  He shook his head. “You girls are dangerous!”

  “Of course we are. Don’t you dare blab the secret. Now, make yourself comfortable for the show.”

  He looked around. “I can fetch some cushions to sit on.”

  “No need.” She sat down and leaned against the trunk of an element tree, the kind that made complicated things seem simple. She beckoned him down. “I am soft enough.”

  Lying beside her with his head on her lap as she stroked his plaid hair, her full bosom close above his face, he was happy to agree.

  The ghost reappeared. “The zombie king is dispatching a dragon. He says he’ll show us the plaque if we make this liaison work. Now I will notify the princess.” She vanished.

  Well, that was progress.

  There was a delay of an indefinite time, but Nolan seemed quite content to wait. Apoca had suspected that would be the case. Men were malleable in the hands of women, especially when the women showed enough feminine flesh.

  Ghorgeous appeared. “I will animate the scene in outline while I report the dialogue. Your imagination can fill in the details.”

  Apoca focused, as the ghost misted and the outline formed from the vapor. It was a lovely young woman lying on a royal bed, her eyes closed. She was alone.

  “Zoila.” That was Ghorgeous speaking to her.

  The eyes flickered open. The mouth moved. “Wha?”

  “You are not all the way dead. You are a zombie.”

  The mouth opened to scream, but only a bit of a sigh emerged, because she was unable to take a sufficient breath.

  “Listen to me, Princess Zoila. I am Ghorgeous Ghost. I was cruelly killed, as you were. I died all the way, but my spirit could not depart until I avenged my murder. Then I decided to stay with my ghost and living friends. I would dearly like to be alive again, but that is not an option. At least I get to tease a live man on occasion. Now I am here to help you. Your prospects in this regard are better than mine.”