file:///F|/rah/Piers%20Anthony/Anthony,%20Piers%20-%20Xanth%2022%20-%20Zombie%20Lover.txt
Meanwhile the lure of the mysteries of darkness drew her to ever farther explorations.
There were no pie trees close by, but she did spy a tart bush. Tarts were a bit sharp on the
tongue, but would do. She picked a black raspberry tart and bit into it, and it was fine. She
found a coffee tree with a cup of black coffee, and that was fine too. At home she wasn't allowed
to drink coffee yet, but that was yet another adventure of going out on her own: no one told her
what not to do. Her folks were so dull that they could see only mundane things, despite living in
a magic realm now. They would need special magic glasses to see most of the magic of Xanth.
Breanna really didn't miss Mundania. Xanth was so much more interesting. Oh, there were dangers,
but they were mostly magical, instead of dreary things like robbers and drunk drivers. She might
have liked to have some chewing gum, but here it was as apt to chew the person as to be chewed.
She saw what looked like a barrister bloom. Maybe if she wore its flower, it would enable her to
argue her case better at home. It had a nice daisy-like flower. But as she touched it, something
awkward happened. She jumped back. Oh, now she saw that it was a different plant, a bare aster.
She wouldn't want to wear one of those flowers. She came to a river that seemed a bit too wide and
deep to wade across. Fortunately there were big banana plants, or plantains, growing by its banks,
with the biggest fruits she had seen. Magic could be very good for plants. So she grabbed onto an
old plantain and managed to haul it down. She wedged it open and scooped out the remnant of its
pulp. Now she had a banana boat. She used an old stem as a paddle, and moved across the water.
Another craft came floating down the stream. It was small, and had two hulls, and several cats
were on it. Oh—a catamaran. It figured. It had a sail, but one cat was busily shredding it with
its claws. Then the cat spied Breanna, and dived down out of sight, terrified. That one would be
called Fray D. Cat, she was sure.
She landed, and saw a big dog house with a small pup tent beside it. That too figured: big dog.
little dog. Things tended to be literal, in Xanth.
She saw a bright rift forming in the east, and realized that it was the first crack of dawn. Night
was over, and soon light would spill
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through the crack and inundate the region, flooding it with day. So it was time for her to sleep.
She loved her talent, but it did have the small disadvantage of making daylight uncomfortably
bright for her. She acclimatized when she had to, but preferred not to bother. Also, she got
tired, after being active all night. So now she simply slept in the daytime, when away from home.
Unfortunately she wasn't sleepy yet. Oh—because of that coffee. She should have remembered that it
had a mild wake-up spell. That was why her folks didn't let her drink it: they said she was enough
of a handful by day, and they didn't need to have her active by night too. How little did they
know! But though she hated to admit it, their rule would have helped her in this case. How could
she get her rest? She looked around. She saw a large dried fish mounted on a pole. Birds were
coming in to sit on it. That was a perch; it was a favorite resting place for birds. But she was
no bird.
There was a commotion, and several small metallic objects ran by. They looked like keys for doors,
still new and shiny. Oh—those would be latchkey kids, running home. As she herself should be
doing, if she weren't too ornery to give up her adventure. She saw them charge up to a big block
marked WRITER. What were they doing around a writer's block? They climbed up on top of it, where
there was a board. They settled down comfortably on that board, each little key evidently having
its own spot. When every key was in place, the block put down wooden pegs and walked away.
"Oh, I get it," Breanna said. "The key board unlocks the writer's block." But her problem wasn't
being blocked, but needing to get some sleep.
She saw a spreading tree whose branches might offer a decent place to be. But then she recognized
it as a sycamore, and the last thing she wanted was to get more and more sick.
Then she remembered something she had seen nearby; dark glasses. They were supposed to have a
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