"So we have nothing to fear but fear itself," Edsel said.

"Or other emotions," Justin agreed.

"I'm too young to be scared by; grownup things." DeMonica said proudly.

Meanwhile Pia was watching the grave stone "That thing is moving closer."

"I know it," Breanna said tightly "I'm afraid that if it catches me, my mother really will die." She was not joking, her face was distraught.

"I believe I see another," Justin said. "But I don't recognize it."

Pia looked. It was a tropical tree, seemingly growing out of the water. "It's just a palm tree," she said. "No threat to me."

Edsel looked. "Oh, no," he breathed. "It's mine."

"What's its threat?" Pia asked.

"It's a joke my brother Bentley played on me when we were kids. He told me about it, and I thought it was real. It's a Na Palm tree."

"I don't believe I am conversant with that variety," Justin said.

"That's because it didn't exist in Xanth, until this moment." Edsel said "It's my bad dream. It has barrel-like fruits that explode on contact, setting fire to anyone near."

"Oh, a variety of pineapple tree."

"Maybe so. But it terrifies me." Indeed, Pia had never seen Edsel so scared.

"Tree go bang," Monica said, intrigued.

Pia saw that the tree was coming closer. It did have deadly-looking fruits. She remembered the description of napalm: it soaked its victims, and burned their skin off, and wouldn't stop. It was one of the most horrible weapons in existence. She didn't want to experience it even in a dream.

"You said we can make them collide." Pia said. "Let's do it."

"Only their subjects can lead them," Justin said.

"But neither Breanna nor Edsel look capable of doing much," Pia pointed out.

"Yes. that is the inherent irony of the situation. However, we can guide them." He spoke directly to Breanna. "Call that stone to you. dear."

"I just want to get away from it!" the girl shrieked.

"I love you. Trust me."

Breanna looked almost white with fear. But Justin look her hand, and she fought for control. She looked at the gravestone. "C-come," she whispered.

The stone moved toward her, much faster.

"Me?" Pia asked Justin.

"If you would. We must have both orient on us."

Pia leaned toward Edsel. "You heard him, Ed. Call it to you."

Edsel stared at her with dilated eyes "The thing will destroy me!"

"No it won't, " she said firmly, though she had some private doubt. "Summon it."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can. I'll help you." She kissed him on the mouth. "Do, it Ed." She hated using her power over him this way, but she had to motivate him to do what he had to do.

He stared at her, his emotions of fear and love warring on his face. She smiled at him. Then he turned, slowly, and gazed at the tree. "Come, you horror, come," he whispered.

The tree responded with alacrity. Suddenly it was bearing down on them.

"Hold on. everyone," Justin called. "Para-now!"

The boat had evidently been waiting for this directive. He leaped forward so suddenly that Pia fell backward off her seat.

And behind them, the rushing gravestone crashed into the charging tree There was a ball of fire, followed by dissipating smoke. The two dream monsters were gone.

"But there will be more," Breanna said, recovering "For all of us."

"Monica, find that locket." Justin said urgently to the child.

"That way," Monica said, pointing to a nearby tiny island.

The boat veered. But another shape appeared, and it wasn't the locket.

"Oh, no." Justin breathed.

"What is it, dear?" Breanna asked.

"It's a morph."

"Morph," Edsel said. "As in morphine, a pain killer, or morphing, changing form?"

"Both," Justin said with impending dread.

"But those are two different things." Pia protested. "One's a shot, the other's a movie and ad gimmick."

"Both." Justin repeated weakly. "It's an injection that causes folk to change shape involuntarily. I've seen it attack animals and ruin their lives. They get addicted to change, but can't handle the new forms. It's going to get me. and make me change back into a tree, or worse, right when I want so much to remain as I am."

"Now I feel your pain," Breanna said. "I don't want you to change."

"Changing forms is fun." Monica said innocently.

"But it's only an emotional thing, isn't it?" Pia asked "Not really physical?"

"An emotional tree could not embrace Breanna." Justin said, his eves locked on the approaching hypodermic shape.

"We have to get rid of it, for sure," Breanna said.

But meanwhile Edsel had spotted something else. "Book shape at nine o'clock." he said.

Pia looked-and froze. "That's the awful cook book."

"What's scary about a cook book?" he asked. "You never cook anyway."

"That's why I never cook," she said tightly. "It burns me."

An errant glance bounced around the boat. "A cook book burns you?" Breanna asked after one and a half moments.

"It's another experience from childhood," Pia explained, unable to look away from the horrible book as it nudged closet. "My mother was cooking in our apartment, on a hotplate, and she had a cook book out. I saw the hotplate and asked what it was, but she thought I meant the book, and said 'It's a cook book.' So I tried to pick it up-"

"And you burned your hand," Edsel said.

"Now I understand." Breanna said. "That book out there is steaming hot. You could cook on it."

"For sure." Pia agreed faintly. "I'm terrified of cook books. I know it's stupid, but I can't touch one of those things."

"And that morph better not touch Justin." Breanna said. "It's our turn to maneuver, Edsel."

"For sure." he agreed.

Now the two of them focused on their partners, reversing the prior case. "Justin. call in that morph," Breanna said.

"It's going to stick me!"

"Pia. call that cook book," Edsel said.

"It'll burn me!"

"Call it!" Breanna and Edsel said together.

With extreme reluctance, knowing that the others were right. Pia pried open her mouth and said "Come, you awful thing." And the hot book accelerated toward her.

"Come, needle." Justin whispered.

"Go, Para!" Breanna cried.

The boat shot forward. There was a crash behind it. And Pia's horror eased. Two more awful fantasies had been destroyed.

But another was already appearing. It looked like a vertical column, but it wasn't supporting anything. "What is that?" Edsel asked.

Pia. recovering, looked. The thing did not fill her with horror, so she knew it wasn't hers. That was a kind of relief "It looks like a rug," she said, "A rolled carpet."

"A carpet'" DeMonica cued, her voice a wail. "That shouldn't be here."

"You mean it's yours?" Pia asked, surprised. She had thought the half-demon child to be immune.

"I gotta get outa here!" Monica shrilled, and scrambled for the far side of the boat.

"Wait!" Pia exclaimed, catching her. "You can't run on water, and anyway, it'll follow you "

"Let me go! Let me go!" the child screamed, struggling. But Pia drew her in close and held her firmly.

"What's the problem?" Breanna asked, and it wasn't any routine query.

"Let me go!" Monica shrieked.

"The child needs calming," Justin said.

Pia did not know the first thing about calming a child. She had never wanted anything to do with children, who had in the past struck her as irrelevant nuisances. But she tried. "Take it easy." she said, hugging the little girl.

"No!" Monica was starting to change her form, oozing out of Pia's grip in slow demonic fashion.

Pia shifted her hold, but it was hard to hold on to a shifting squirming squiggling form. She was losing the contest.

"We must discover the nature of the threat." Justin said insistently.

Pia saw the rolled carpet looming closer. It was angling now, as if making ready to unroll on the water. "Monica!" she said, taking another hold. "What's about that carpet?"

But the child was beyond listening. She wanted only to get away, and try to flee, though she drown in the attempt.

"Kiss her." Breanna suggested.

Pia hauled Monica in and kissed her on the forehead, trying to emulate motherly fashion. The child burst into tears and clutched her. "Don't let it get me!"

"I won't." Pia promised, though she had no idea how to keep that promise. "But you must tell me: what's its secret?"

"It's going to roll me up!" Monica cried welly. "I'll smother."

Now it was coming clear. Suffocation inside the rolled carpet. Someone must have threatened the child with that once, and it had become a buried fear. Maybe the carpet was illusory, but its terror could still stop the child's breathing. It was tilting farther, showing it's hollow interior "Is there another spook in sight?" Pia inquired desperately.

"No," Edsel said.

Pia hugged the child closer. "Then find another way to abolish it."

Edsel turned to Justin. "Is there any other way?"

"Sometimes. If there is a pun that can be changed. But there seems to be nothing funny about being smothered by a lolled carpet."

"Yes there is," Edsel said. "Carpet tunnel syndrome."

"You got it!" Breanna said. "But how can it be changed?"

Pia was discovering, to her surprise, that she rather liked comforting the child. She had never tried it before, but holding the little girl seemed meaningful. Monica was taking comfort, though as yet they had no certainty of saving her. The carpet was unrolling, making ready for its prey "There has to be some other variant," Edsel said. "Carpet- carpal-"