"No." / "I don't think so." / "No." / "No."
I hold out my fig jar to him. He looks at it, then up at my face, then tries moving his right arm, which is bound to his chest by magic ropes.
Hey, don't expect him to
feed you, Demon. He reserves
that privilege for his lady.
I grin, then pull the jar away and take a fig for-. Oh, they left the wasp in it!
Two claps from the royal palanquin, and we turn to give our attention to the Caliph.
Well, extra protein! And yes, the
wasp is a thing with
Figs: it plays a part in the fertilization and fruiting of the bushes.
"I am certain that this event will be memorable, whatever occurs. Still, I would be interested to hear how you plan to cross the storm before you are utterly unmade by its wrath."
"It is true. The spell that I hev been using to get us this far will soon end. I am-."
Oh,
that's what he was up to back in the city. Playing the part of 'the wise mentor who leaves the party to attend to his own business, then returns when needed...' Though I doubt he plans to play the 'sacrificial mentor' card anytime
soon.
"What spell?"
Because I don't remember seeing him cast anything, and even if he did some combination of my spell eater and tattoos should have dealt with it by now. Or at least provided some sort of warning.
And if it was too subtle for them to notice? He is an
expert wizard, after all.
"Orange Lantern, I em disappointed. Where are we?"
"The Dream, which… Has certain totemic forms which exist beyond the minds of individual dreamers, but I don't see how that's… The city."
And the good Doctor can weave the threads of
Narrative to his advantage upon such a loom.
He smiles. "Ah, you were paying attention. Good."
"The city has more tightly defined rules than the Dream in general. Which means that it can be manipulated into pushing us into advantageous positions."
In this case, the gourds from the merchant's collection, and the watchful gaze of the Caliph.
"A Caliph, receiving honest but unwelcome advice from a mad prophet."
"I'm not a prophet. I never got higher in the Silver City than the Angel Kings. And they didn't give me any sort-."
What, not upset by being called
mad? Ah, but 'We're all mad here' of course. Anyone using a Ring has to be a
little off.
"You've-!" The Caliph's eyes are wide, but he masters himself immediately. "Do you mean to say that you have visited the City of Heaven?"
"Sort of. He wasn't there in any special way. As I understand it, the gardens around the city are where the souls of the righteous monotheistic dead go to begin the process of shedding their egos so that they can join with God." I shrug. "It's not really my thing. They had to murder and abduct me to get me there, and I left as soon as I could."
And it's not like you
had time to sightsee, anyway...
The Caliph smiles. "That must be a story! In the unlikely event that your soul is not torn asunder, I bid you return to my city as my guest and share it."
I shrug. "Alright. Time allowing. Is it alright if I bring a guest?"
Ah, avoiding the Narrative of 'my work is done, I should go.' and promptly dying.
"By all means."
Excellent! It'll be nice to have a non-working date lined up next time Jade is available.
Man, other women hearing her stories must be super-jealous... If they can
believe them...
"Though I'm not sure how that helps us get through the storm."
Dr. Balewa reaches over and takes my fig jar, removing a single fig before passing it to Alan. "Each of us must eat one."
Just one, or can they
snack?
"A conceptual link by a single fruit?" I frown. "Seems a bit weak."
"Heroes sharing food before setting out on the final part of their quest." Alan takes a fig before passing the jar to Sanderson. "The difficulty is that from the point of view of the city, our part in its story is complete. The magic may well be satisfied with us dying, so long as we do so out of sight."
As long as it isn't a last supper, anyway. Because stories can be
cruel that way.
"Hence you nudging me to bring up the Heaven thing. Alright, but that still doesn't get us through the storm."
Sander swallows his fig. "I think I've got an idea. Storms are made up of irrationality, aren't they? So there used to be more to every bit of the storm than is there now. And since we've got all these dream gourds with us, we might be able to attach these dreams to what's there."
Hmm... Wanna take over, Old Luke?
"Amazing. Every word you just said was
wrong."
"Good." Dr. Balewa nods. "Good. Of course, thet will not work, but it is a logical suggestion."
"Well, gosh darn it."
Hey, don't be hard on yourself. When 50,000 years old
you are, as wise shall
you be, hmm?
"The chance that we would gather every dream whose irrationality became part of a primordial storm is astronomically low. No, we will be taking advantage of The Demon Constantine's command of chaos magic."
"I'm not that good-."
...I don't think he was planning on letting you actually do
anything of your own volition, Demon-boy.
Alan ignores him, nodding slowly. "Is that why he's got the ropes?"
"Indeed. We will be pouring every one of these dreams into him."
...Okay,
this is going to be good. How even...
Well, get ready to open wide, Demon... And hope they're not being supplied in
suppository form.
Dr. Balewa nods. "Yes."
"What?"
Okay, seriously,
when did the
Tenth Doctor show up?
"His aim will be to create a chaotic mess of mental imagery such as will allow him to connect to whatever of the storm's winds that blow against us. If he is successful, and we are in constant motion, that should be enough to create a short lived path through the storm."
The Demon's eyes are wide with astonishment. "Maybe, you crazy fucker, but I still won't know where I'm going! I'll be blind and deaf and high as a fucking kite on all that dream essence!"
...So, they're going to be using him... Like an
Icebreaker for the storm?
"Thet is where Sandman comes in. He will need to use his Dream-granted foresight to bring us to the tower along the path thet The Demon will make."
"And that will work?"
Great, so Sanderson's now a
tugboat.
"Thet can work. I will be using my owen abilities to help things along, but we are covering entirely new ground. I will hev to write a report for the Conservatory of Sorcery."
Alan looks unsettled. "If we survive."
Hey, aren't you supposed to be the
hopeful one?
"As you say."
Sanderson moves his mask enough to eat a fig. He then does so with a definite lack of enthusiasm. "What'll it be like?"
Seriously, modular mask with a
movable mouthpiece. Your skin will thank you.
"The pathway will be both a pathway and a series of linked ideas and dreams. To move between them will require both constant movement and a constant change of thoughts as we comply with the tone of each Dream. There is nothing quite like it which can be experienced." He smiles. "I am looking forward to it."
"Because you're so old that new experiences are rare?"
...I swear, if this turns into a scooby-doo chase scene through the storm...
"Ah, no. Since I hev joined the Justice League, I have had a new experience at least once a week. Whatever reservations I hev about the organisation, thet, I do not regret. No, this is really more the first time I have truly stretched myself with new magic in longer than I can recount."
He stands as the wall of the outskirts of the storm approaches.
"And now, the gourds."
Well, at least
one of them is enjoying himself...