“Or zombie girl seeks living boy and wins him.”

  “That one is obvious. She kept flashing him with her body until he capitulated. She did have the body, and it wasn’t always cold.”

  She smiled. “I gather you noticed, as he did. But it turned out that he did want to get back at his pushy family, and marrying a zombie was a way.”

  “So it fits the formula,” he agreed. “But the humanoid robot scenario doesn’t. They did not succeed in seducing us, though they came close.”

  “I’m not sure that particular aspect is the point. We turned out to have something the robots as a whole really needed: the bugs.”

  “So we did. And we had things to really help the witches, like your expertise and Gent.”

  “I am getting a glimmer,” she said. “Maybe the message is that we have something that will enable the Demon to get the Demoness.”

  “And if we can just catch on to it, voilà! Victory!”

  They looked at each other. “That rings true to me. Chaos is not supposed to cheat, but hints may be okay. All we have to do is figure them out.”

  “We have a man who can see imaginary things,” he said. “A woman with a powerful kiss. A girl who can see paths. A man cursed by a witch.”

  “A lovely ghost,” she added. “A zombie robot. Two telepathic bugs.”

  “And two batons,” he concluded. “Which of these people and things is what a Demoness might want, that she couldn’t conjure for herself?”

  Apoca sighed. “Which, indeed.”

  “Actually, the batons and the ghost might be beyond her reach. But why would she want them?”

  “Why, indeed,” she repeated tiredly. Her brain felt as if it were beginning to freeze up.

  “If there are hints for us to pick up on, we must be too dull to do it.”

  It was time to change the subject. Her eyes flicked around the room as if searching for inspiration—and found it. “That window—I am curious. What other scenes can it show?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Maybe we should ask a ghost,” she said half-facetiously. As if they hadn’t had enough of that subject already.

  “We do know one.”

  “I mean a house ghost. They know what’s what here.”

  Nolan lifted his voice. “Hello! Do we have a resident ghost for this room?”

  There was flicker as a ghostly face appeared. “I am heere,” she wheezed.

  Could a ghost be sick? “Is there a problem?” Apoca asked.

  “Yess. I am not uused to appearing or taalking.”

  Ah. Apoca remembered the problem Ghorgeous Ghost had marshaling her very limited substance. “Could you use my body for a while, if I let you?”

  “Yess, maaybee.”

  “Then come on in,” Apoca said, opening her mind. It helped that she knew the resident ghosts were female and friendly.

  The ghost floated up to her head, then filtered in through her nose. Apoca felt like sneezing but suppressed it. Then the presence expanded, finding the controls. The eyes focused, the ears oriented, and the mouth opened. “Oh, it is so good to feel alive again, if only for a little while!” her voice said.

  Nolan seemed nervous but handled it. “You are the ghost?”

  “Yes. I am Zelda, short for Griselda, meaning ‘The Heroine.’ I was one of the early sacrifices. I have been dead for over a century. I was twenty when I died.”

  “Hello, Zelda! So you are twenty, or a hundred and twenty, depending.”

  “Forever twenty, I prefer.” The head turned to face him. “Oh, you are a handsome man! I was beautiful, when. You would have liked me, then.”

  “I like you now,” he said gallantly. “What you did, becoming a sacrifice for the benefit of your coven, that was noble. But I won’t touch you. My fiancée wouldn’t understand.”

  She certainly wouldn’t, Apoca thought.

  “Why did you call me?” Zelda asked.

  He paused an instant short of a moment, finding his mental place. That was still most of a moment too long for Apoca’s taste. He was distracted by the presence of a younger (as it were) woman in bed with him. Men could be maddening that way. “The window!” he said, remembering at last. “How does it work?”

  “Oh, we rub a bit of our spirit off on the frame, so we can control it,” Zelda said. “Then we paint the surface with our imagination. I was an aspiring astronomer, so I put stars in mine. But I can do other pictures too. What do you want?” She inhaled, using Apoca’s lungs, and Nolan’s eyeballs inflated correspondingly, because she wasn’t using a nightie. Apoca stifled her annoyance; it was, after all, her own body he was admiring.

  “A scene with dancing nymphs.” Then he caught himself, realizing that he had spoken a private thought. “I mean—”

  But his correction was too late. The starry night flickered and became a green glade with nude nymphs dancing with abandon, flinging their long tresses about, lifting their shapely bare legs high, and screaming seductively as they bounced.

  “I mean formal dancing,” he said quickly. But it would have been better if he had clarified it before the nymphs appeared. “As in a ballroom.”

  A ballroom formed around the scene. Music sounded. The nymphs took fauns as partners and danced with them. Still nude. Still bouncy. Still youthfully enticing. The fauns clearly loved it; their hands were everywhere. The nymphs screamed ticklishly, not withdrawing at all.

  Apoca was disgusted. Still, it did demonstrate the potential of the screen.

  “I understand that in Mundania they have windows or mirrors that show whole little stories,” Nolan said, perhaps trying to recover from his verbal slip, or maybe just trying to pacify Apoca.

  The picture changed to an ogre twisting saplings into knots and frightening young dragons. Print appeared, superimposed on the scene: Ogre, Ogre: A Romance.

  Well, now. That was one of the historical stories. Apoca was familiar with it. A human girl had won the love of an ogre, and he had become almost human. It would do. Leave that on, she thought forcefully. And go about your business.

  Zelda got the message. She siphoned back out via the nose and faded, leaving them to enjoy the show.

  They fell asleep in each other’s arms well before the story ended. That was fine. Apoca was satisfied that they had learned about the windows. She also reflected on the visit by the ghost Zelda, letting her body be used by the spirit of another woman. That was interesting, but she wasn’t sure she would care to do it again.

  In the morning they got up, used the attached little bathroom, and dressed. Zelda appeared and ushered them to the dining room, where Thirteen and Vinia were waiting. “We have ghost toasties and evaporated milk,” the witch said. “This house is well stocked. Thank you so much for enabling us to take possession; the witches all love it.”

  “I shared a room with Three,” Vinia said excitedly. “She’s good with children, and I’m a child. She told me wonderful witch stories, and the ghosts animated them.”

  “That’s nice, dear,” Apoca said. She had an idea how the ghosts animated stories. She turned to Thirteen. “How did Gent work out?”

  “Excellently. One says that there’s no way the stork will ignore her signals. There might even be triplets. Two is ready for tonight, and Three tomorrow.”

  “Tonight? Tomorrow? I thought we would be moving on today, now that we know your coven is secure.”

  “Oh, you must stay longer! The girls are so thrilled to have this chance. We will try so hard to make it worth your while.”

  “Three is so nice,” Vinia said. “It is only fair that she get to order a child.”

  “But we need to complete our mission,” Apoca protested. “So that your children won’t all have the same talent.”

  “That is true. But I consulted with Twelve, who has the premonitions. They apply only to our Coven-19, which incidentally is why you turned out not to be in so much danger. Your own forebodings were for us rather than you. But we got around that by focusing on our future children. That turned out to be a huge uncertainty; we don’t know how they’ll be talented, because there is no guarantee your quest will succeed. But our auspices suggest that your result is most likely to be positive if you tarry here three days.”

  Apoca digested that. Vinia’s paths could select the best routes but did not predict the future. Rocker Robot could warn of danger, in his fashion, but again, that was the present, not the future. The bugs were telepathic, but again that was limited to the present. The Quest’s best indication was the Witch Twelve’s premonition, uncertain as it was.

  Nolan and Vinia were looking at her with what the Mundanes called poker faces. She knew they wanted to stay. What could she do? “Three days,” she agreed with resignation.

  Vinia clapped her hands. “Goody! I get to see more stories.”

  “And I get to see more shows,” Nolan said.

  “And we get to order our first children,” Thirteen said with satisfaction.

  Apoca hoped that was all there was to it. The secret truth was that she herself was satisfied to wait that time, now that she had a solid pretext, because the prospect of facing the evasive Dwarf Demon of Talents terrified her. The Kiss had shown her the magnitude of a Demon who she knew was on their side; what of one who was not?

  “We truly appreciate what you are doing for us, in more than one venue,” Thirteen said. “You have enabled us to become a coven worthy of respect. You ask nothing in return, but we believe we owe you a giant favor. Twelve says an occasion will soon come. Do not hesitate to ask.”

  Apoca knew it would be undiplomatic to dismiss this offer. “We shall do that, when,” she agreed.

  “And of course we will send a witch as liaison to the Queendom of Thanx. Maybe Nine, who can make excellent toys. She should be popular with Thanx children.”

  Their Quest related to children, though in another manner. “I’m sure that will be appreciated.”

  Gent and One showed up, both looking well rumpled. Gent also looked as if he would be well satisfied to marry a witch, were he free to do so.

  “Thank you ever so much for saving me from the sacrifice,” One said to Apoca. “I was ready to do it, but I really didn’t want to.”

  “You’re welcome,” Apoca said. And wondered whether the Quest was heading into what well might be a similar sacrifice.

  Chapter 11

  HERE

  Back at the nexus, they found three paths remaining. They recognized the ones to Madness and to Pundemonium but hadn’t considered the last one before. Could it be worse than the other two?

  It turned out to be clearly labeled hell. There was a paved path, each tile labeled good intentions. There was even a demon handsomely garbed in a tuxedo, smiling, ready to help them travel along it.

  Nolan did not need to share a glance with Apoca to know that this was not their preferred path, however good their intentions. So, reluctantly, he turned to the one leading to the pundemic. It was the least worst.

  “Get lost, foul spirit,” Apoca said as they changed direction.

  The demon frowned, and smoke curled up from his ears. Hell had no fury like that of being scorned by a woman.

  They collectively gritted their teeth and walked along the path to Pundemonium. A chill gust of wind blew, making Vinia shiver. She spied a jacket tree and went to harvest a nice yellow one her size.

  Rocker Robot clicked thrice.

  Vinia paused. “This?”

  One click.

  “Yellow jackets sting the wearer,” Gent said, talking normally now that they were back in punnish territory.

  “Oh. Of course.” She carried the jacket back to its tree and hung it up. She believed in neatness. Fortunately the chill wind had passed, its purpose nulled.

  They walked through a field of saw grass, careful to avoid the assorted saws as they waved in another gust of breeze. The clapping hand saw, carefully coping saw, and dancing jig saw weren’t too dangerous, but the chain saw with its sharp whirling chain was ugly, and the see saw was looking for vulnerable flesh.

  The next section was marked professional nails. Large nails with little arms and legs were busy doing assorted things, such as assembling a structure made of wood. “Carpenter nails,” Gent explained. “Roofing nails. Finishing nails.” Indeed, the indicated ones were putting a roof on the structure, while the last were completing the job.

  Nolan managed to stifle his groan. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t visited the pundemic zone before.

  They came to a king-sized bed that a king must have discarded, maybe because the foot of it had king-sized feet. “That looks tempting,” Apoca said. “I’d like to lie down on it. But I won’t.”

  “Why not?” Vinia asked.

  “Two reasons. First, I don’t trust anything in the pun zone. Second, it’s king-size, and I’m a queen. Those big feet might kick me out. Pun-ishment.”

  Nolan concluded that made sense, in this region.

  They walked on, guided by the route and Vinia’s green path. Then she stopped. “Oh!”

  They had come to a corral enclosing a horse with a marvelously colorful mane. Vinia was a girl. Horses had a similar effect on girls as panties had on men. She was fascinated. So, to a lesser extent, was Apoca.

  A sign on the gate said free rides, friendly horse, hue mane. Nolan glanced at Rocker. The robot clicked thrice. He didn’t know what problem there might be.

  Nolan gave in to the inevitable. “Ride him. Then we’ll be on our way.”

  With a squeal of delight, Vinia opened the gate, slipped through, and approached the horse. She petted him on the neck. He nuzzled her hair, and his mane brightened. It was clearly love at first sight.

  Then she scrambled up onto his back. There was no saddle, no reins, but they were not needed. The horse walked slowly around the corral, carrying the girl with no problem for either.

  Something bothered Nolan. After a fair-size moment he realized what it was: where was the pun? Hue Mane, for humane, but was that enough?

  They returned to the gate. Vinia slid off and landed neatly on her feet. “Thank you, Hue. That was a lovely ride. Now I must move on.”

  Rocker clicked twice.

  Vinia glanced at him. “You say no? I say yes. I loved it.” She stepped away from the horse. And paused, confused. “My paths are gone.”

  Uh-oh. “Your paths?” Apoca asked.

  “Well, they’re there, spreading out every which way, but the colors are missing. I don’t know which is green.”

  “The horse is another color,” Gent said.

  Indeed, the horse’s mane was twice as bright as before. It had stronger hues.

  “The horse took your colors!” Nolan said. “You left, but the hues stayed.”

  Rocker clicked once.

  “And there is the trap,” Apoca said ruefully. “The horse is a magnet for hues. That’s the rest of the pun.”

  That was why the zombie robot had clicked only when Vinia stepped away. That was when it happened. The puns were not always harmless. The horse had meant no mischief; it was just its nature.

  “You have two talents,” Apoca said. “Did it steal your telekinesis too?”

  Surprised, the girl glanced at a stone on the ground before her. It rose into the air, looped about, and landed in her hand. “No,” she said relieved.

  “So it is only colors it takes.”

  “Yes, I guess. But my tele won’t show the way to the plaque.”

  “Still, that’s better than losing it.”

  “I guess,” the girl agreed, not fully satisfied.

  So it was not a total loss, Nolan thought. But what were they to do now? Without her paths, they were almost literally lost.

  “Maybe her colors will revert when she’s away from the horse,” Gent suggested.

  Nolan doubted it and saw that Apoca did too. But what choice did they have?

  They walked on, following only the visible path they were on. Nolan had forgotten how much they depended on Vinia’s vision of the green. He felt almost naked. Who knew what they might encounter, unguided, or what threats they might fail to avoid? Their very mission might be in peril. He saw that Apoca was similarly nervous, and of course Vinia was on the verge of hysteria.

  Ghorgeous appeared, faintly. “I don’t like this. We’ve lost our compass.”

  “We just have to hope we recover it.”

  “Rocker thinks there’s a game changer in the vicinity. But he has no idea of its nature.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “No, merely obscure.” She flickered out, then in again, her way of pausing. “He also thinks that I have something vital to contribute to the larger mission. But that may be only because I am the ghost in his machine.”

  “You have already contributed. You enabled Zoila Zombie to find her living prince.”

  “More than that. Something I can do that can change everything. If only I knew what it was.”

  “That seems to be the theme of this Quest. We can maybe change whatever, if only we knew how.”

  She smiled ruefully. “Exactly.” She faded out.

  “If only,” Apoca murmured sympathetically.

  That note of sympathy touched him. “You know what I’d like to do right now?”

  “Do it.”

  He took her in and soundly kissed her. A little heart flew out, got caught in the breeze, and drifted away.

  “Exactly,” she repeated.

  Neither Vinia nor Gent commented.

  They came to a device lying on the ground. It was made of some kind of metal, with a glossy screen facing upward. “What is this?” Nolan asked warily.

  Rocker clicked thrice. This type of machine was evidently beyond his experience.

  “That is Com Pewter, the nefarious electronic device that can change reality in its immediate vicinity,” Gent said. “But it can’t change itself; otherwise it would no longer be made of cheap tin alloy and be helpless to move physically on its own. It appears to have been dumped here, perhaps as outdated trash.”