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Magician indicates I will, I want to be with companions who understand and will not interfere.”
    “That makes sense.”
    “And I want to be with folk who understand me without condemning me.”
    “We don’t condemn you! Why would you think that?”
    “Because you know I’m jealous of my sister. She nailed her man, she married up, she has a son. I was left behind. We were always even. Now she’s ahead. I hate that.”
    “But she does not seem happy.”
    “True. I think she misses our relatively carefree days of independence. I don’t think I’d want her type of marriage. But still I’m jealous.”
    “But you were also jealous of the Good Magician seeing us instead of you. And of my being the protagonist.”
    “Outside I’m a princess. Inside I’m a female bleep. You do understand. Do you condemn me?”
    “No, of course not. You’re entitled to your living emotions.”
    “There you are. You are a very understanding, even-tempered person, Picka. You know me for a girl with private spites, yet you accept me anyway.”
    “Well, skeletons lack the passions of living folk. We don’t have glands.”
    “Precisely.”
    “Do you still mind my being the protagonist?”
    “Oh, it irks me. But if I can’t be it, then I’m satisfied for you to be it, Picka. I’m sure you won’t abuse your position.”
    “I hope I don’t. I’ve never been a protagonist before. I’m afraid I might mess it up.”
    She laughed, relaxing. “I don’t think it’s possible to mess up something like that. You’re just the observer. Just please don’t leave me out of the story.”
    “I won’t,” he promised. “Now you really need to sleep, because tomorrow may be arduous.”
    “Yes.” She got up and started toward the door. Then she changed her mind. “I’ll sleep here.”
    “You are welcome. I don’t need the bed.”
    “I know. I want more than your bed. Humor me.”
    “Skeletons don’t have much humor either.”
    She lay down on the bed. “Lie down beside me. Put your arms about me. I will feel safe in your embrace.”
    She did not feel safe? Picka joined her on the bed and put his arms about her. She snuggled against his bones and went to sleep.
    It was no burden to hold her, as skeletons did not tire. But he wondered. Why was she nervous about this Quest? Did she know something he and Joy’nt did not? Or was she simply dubious about trying to pin down a traveling castle? Regardless, he and Joy’nt would support her. After all, they were friends.
    Picka’s mind drifted. In his futile fancy he and Dawn were more than friends, and the holding was more than comfort. It was the beginning of romance.
    He snapped out of it, knowing the notion was ridiculous. And saw a surprised day mare standing there. There was a girl on the mare’s back. He could see them because he derived from their realm.
    “What are you doing bringing a daydream to a skeleton?” Picka asked.
    “Oh,” the girl said. “My fault. I’m Debbie, and I got to ride a day mare for one day while she delivers daydreams. This one was supposed to go to a living couple. We must have gotten the address confused. I’m sorry.”
    “That’s all right,” Picka said, relieved. “It was a nice daydream, until I realized that it couldn’t be for me.”
    “We’ll get it right next time,” Debbie said. “Bye.”
    “Bye,” Picka said as mare and girl vanished.
    Dawn stirred. “What was that?” she asked sleepily.
    “Nothing,” Picka said. That was true, but there was that in him that regretted it.
    Belatedly he realized that the girl and mare had gotten more than the address confused. They had tried to deliver a daydream by night. That was a really curious mistake. True, he had been awake, because he never slept. But what could account for a foul-up like that?
    *   *   *
    In the morning Dawn woke, went to the pitcher on the table in the corner of the room, poured water into the basin there, stripped, fetched a washcloth, washed her copious