'Oh, cool!' said the stag-headed demon-prince with his tongue of flame. Little electric sparks played around the fangs of his sudden smile.
The horned and narrow head turned toward me, the greenish dots it wore in place of eyes dancing with unholy mirth. 'Hey, flying squid-girl. You think your true shape is freaky? Check this out.'
Quentin said, 'Return to that form you wore on Earth, O Prince of Nightmares...'
'Hold on a sec,' said Phobetor in Colin's voice. 'My senses are sharper in this form. I can feel trouble coming. I can feel the hate in the air. I can see... I can see dreams...'
'Fix me,' I said to him.
He did not respond. His eyes were focused on something I could not see. 'Hey, Leader! There is a big dream-storm coming.'
Quentin asked, 'What is a dream-storm?'
'Hell if I know. Looks like a tidal wave about to break over us.'
'Can you fix me?' I shouted at him. The idiot.
'Hold on, sweet cheeks. There are also some singing fish women in longboats dreaming about stopping us___
Your sirens? They'd just smite you if I turned you back on. Wait. I think I can do something...'
Vanity said, 'Leader! Tell him to do something about the tidal wave! This ship sails in dream-waters!'
'Leader, what about me... ?' I asked. 'Can't I get my powers back on... ?'
Quentin said, 'Who else is in the boat?'
The demon Phobetor said in Colin's voice, 'How the hell do I know? I cannot see the boat, I can only see the dreams of the women in it.'
Quentin said, 'I was not talking to you.'
A chilling voice spoke out of midair. 'Maenads who kill; dryads who will not; Amazons of iron will; sirens whose songs fill strange nonrealms of other-space, unimagined, un- shaped worlds the creation hath forgot. Master, I break faith with thee, and cry woe! Your vengeance shall not fall on me, for thy doom rides in that bark also.'
There was a rustling in the air, and Quentin's robes flew and flapped in a breeze that was not there. Then the hems of his garments fell, and the air was still.
'Great,' muttered Quentin.
Phobetor said, 'What the hell was that?'
'A rat deserting a sinking ship.'
Vanity: 'Are we in trouble?'
Quentin: 'Big trouble.'
Phobetor: 'Dream-storm looming up, Leader. Suggest we go below, or batten hatches, or something-'
'Leader!' I said loudly, 'I saw the dream-plane earlier form a bubble or blister and explode into Earth's continuum. That may be the same effect that is happening now. A spell. Your paradigm.'
Quentin said, 'But I don't know how to stop an unknown influence-'
'Listen, Leader! Victor can stop it, I'll bet. If he can get fixed in time.'
The cell phone said in a dim, tinny voice: 'And get an energy supply of sufficient magnitude.'
I said, 'If you will tell Bambi-head here to turn my powers back on, maybe I can fix Victor, or at least see what's wrong...'
'Do it,' said Quentin to Phobetor.
The demon-prince rolled his fiery eyes. 'Um, Leader, there are still sirens in the area-'
'Risk it.'
Phobetor looked at me. The green sparks that served him for eyes shrank into smaller dots, contracting. 'I-I am not sure what to do. How do I make her stupid paradigm turn on?'
Quentin spoke, his voice quiet and forceful: 'Do you love her? Have faith in her. Put energy in her. Believe in her vision, even if you do not understand it. Become like glass, and let the feelings she inspires in you flow through you and enter her.'
Vanity gave out a yelp of fear. 'The waters! The waters!'
The spray coming off the bow of the ship suddenly turned black, and had streamers of flame and smoke rippling through it. The Argent Nautilus started bucking and pitching.
