She stopped at the beach, which was in the shape of a great U. In fact there were many little metal U's on it, instead of sand. They were the kind of things that centaurs nailed to their feet to prevent wear. They were called horseshoes, because presumably horses could use them too. The whole beach was made of diminishing horseshoes! What bad dream was this supposed to be the setting for?

She went to the water, curious about its color. She looked around, saw no human folk, and changed to her human form. Then she stooped to dip out a handful of the water.

She saw eyes looking up at her, from under the surface. Oops! Was someone there, spying on her human nakedness? No, it was a shell with eyes. A see shell, of course.

She reached into the water, took the edge of the shell, lifted it, turned it over, and used it to dip out some of the whining red water. She brought it to her mouth and tasted it.

Sure enough, it was a flavored alcoholic beverage. Red whine. No doubt yet another prop for somebody's bad dream.

Well, Nada didn't need it. She walked on along the beach, away from the Crystal River, wishing she had her clothes. She had forgotten about this detail when she separated from Electra, and now could not go back to get her clothing from her friend. She would just have to make do. Perhaps it didn't matter, as she would not be emerging to normal Xanth.

For that was the gist of Nada's notion: she would fail to find her way out of the gourd, and Electra would marry Dolph by default and live happily ever after. Nada could not renege on her betrothal directly, but if she were lost here she wouldn't have to. Maybe she could find work in the dream realm, the way Girard Giant had three years ago. Ivy had of course told her all about that: how they had discovered a river of blood and traced it to its source, which was the giant's injury, and managed to help Girard recover and find his true love, Gina Giantess. Girard had been one of the invisible giants, but now he was a visible one working in the gourd. So there was a precedent, and Nada was ready to work here if the Night Stallion had a use for her.

Then she saw the cookie. It was a delicious-looking pun-wheel, the kind that was horribly tempting to princesses, though they invariably made folk turn around and groan. Ivy said she had loved them as a little girl, and she still blushed and yielded to her desire to eat one, every so often. After all, just how much could be expected of a princess? There were limits.