The stallion seemed bemused. "Do it," he said to Mare Nectaris, and shimmered out of view.

The dream sequence abruptly ended, and Chex found herself standing with Grundy, otherwise alone by the lake of cheese. The minions of the night were doing their part; now she had to come through with her part.

What kind of a dream could she make, which she and Grundy could narrate, that the horrendous actors of the gourd could pantomime? Her mind was blank.

"Grundy, you must have a notion," she said. "You've talked with creatures all over Xanth. What's the most sickeningly sweet story you ever heard?"

"That was your courtship of Cheiron Centaur," he said promptly.

She refrained from flicking him hard with her tail. They were not as heavy here on the moon, for some magical reason, and she was afraid that if she made him lighter he would fly into the air, and she would have to take off after him, and Fracto would get them both. That wasn't worth the effort, especially since it was now getting dark and it would be hard to see their way. Anyway, it was probably his notion of a compliment.

"Aside from that," she said.

"Probably the tale of the Princess and the dragon," he said. "The bird that told me that one swore he had seen it happen himself, but I'm not sure."

"Why not?" she asked innocently.

"Because he was a lyrebird."

This time she did flick him. Fortunately he hung on to her mane, and did not fly off into Fracto's waiting storm.

"Tell me the tale," she said grimly. She knew that she could not afford to be overly choosy at this point.

"There was a lovely Princess who met a strange handsome foreign Prince," he began. She listened attentively, until the conclusion. "And so they lived happily ever after."

"I think you're right," she said at the end. "That's so nice a tale it will drive Fracto right up the wall and into distraction. But we'll have to fit him into it, so that he identifies."

"But he'll just rain on it!" the golem protested.

"No, the beauty of a dream is that a person has to dream it its way, not his own way. Otherwise no one would even tolerate a bad dream. He will be there, but unable to rain on the proceedings."

Grundy nodded appreciatively. "You have a diseased mind."

"Thank you. Now we must rehearse our parts, so that when the Night Stallion gets his act together, we are ready to animate the dream. I will take the female parts, and you the male parts. Remember, don't overact; what we want is verisimilitude."

"What?"

"Plausibility. I thought you knew all words in all languages."

"I do. I wasn't sure you did."

Again she refrained from flicking him. All centaurs had competent vocabulary, as he knew. "Perhaps you confused me with a certain demoness who has trouble getting her words straight."

"No, you're not as pretty as D. Metria."