Chex had made the remark in an off-hoof manner, not taking it seriously herself. Now she reconsidered. "Well, are your dreams limited to living folk? Fracto is a demon, as I understand, who assumed cloud form and crowned himself king of the clouds. I suppose the real clouds are too fleecy-gentle to make an issue of the matter. But if you—I mean, do demons dream?"

"Demons don't dream," Nectaris said. "But Fracto is no longer exactly a demon, because of all the natural cloud substance he has clothed himself with. Maybe that would make him mortal enough to dream. Let me ask the Night Stallion." She trotted to a gourd she had at the edge of her sea of cheese. She disappeared—and the dream ended. Chex was standing alone, except for Grundy, who didn't count.

"So this is where the night mares spend their time off!" the golem exclaimed. "I never dreamed it!"

"I suppose it makes sense," Chex said. "They can't work all the time, and they do have the seas of the moon named after them, and this gives them a chance to peek at Xanth by day. I'm surprised I was able to see Nectaris."

"They must relax their invisibility here, as they do in the gourd. I'm glad to meet one when she's off duty; she doesn't seem at all frightening. But of course Mare Imbri isn't frightening either." "Well, she's a day mare; she's not supposed to scare folk."

"But she once was a night mare. I wonder who has her moon sea now?"

Mare Nectaris reappeared. It was evident that the gourds served as a handy direct route to the realm of dreams, no matter where they were. The dream reformed. "The stallion says to try it!" the centaur mare exclaimed. "He doesn't like Fracto either!"

"Great!" Grundy cried. It seemed that he received the dream just as Chex did. "Give him a mental hotfoot, get him out of there, and we can go on to Mount Rushmost."

That was exactly what Chex wanted, but she was sensibly cautious. "How long will it take to fashion a suitable bad dream for Fracto?"

"Oh, not more than a few days," the mare replied. "We want this to be a truly effective dream; Fracto has a lot to answer for."

That was what she had feared. "But I need to get past that evil cloud now, or at least very soon!"

"But a dream can't be crafted in a hurry," Nectaris protested. "The workers in the gourd are craftsmen. No inferior bad dream receives the stallion's stamp of approval."

Chex stamped her own hoof in frustration. "I can't wait more than a few hours. My foal is the captive of goblins, and I must tell Cheiron, who will know what to do."

"That is not our concern," the black centaur replied. "We have no onus against you, but we cannot compromise our standards of dreamsmanship. The Night Stallion—"

"Maybe I had better talk to the Night Stallion," Chex said desperately. "I have to make him understand—"