THAT DAY

We're renovating my housemate Lisa's bedroom. She's felt ill, allergic; fears we'll find mold or rotting wood when we peel up the carpet. I hope not. What a nightmare that'd be to fix!

THAT NIGHT

My land's magical. And am I: A wizard's horse; human-wise, but cannot speak your chattertongue-- monkey sounds won't come from my elegant throat. On a trip, my wizard and I find greenish corpse in mud. Murder-spell! I scent the smoldercurse is still active--deadly. But my nosy friend can't sniff past death to subtler smell. Mute, how do I warn Old Curious not to touch voracious rot? In quandary I half-wake to find I'm human suddenly plodding through old thigh-deep snows half-adream toward my log abode. Tramp through dusk, patient plow, as I run mare-dream scenarios; grope to go back and figure out how to get my wizard-pet away from that nosy-monkey trap. Hard sans hand or spoken word. Pretend I'm spooked? Or mime. Would he believe mere nightmare me? Or a last resort: horse force! Drag him away outraged in my impudental jaw. Ah, better a snap-slap war than see him turn--slow surge--to rot. Foul way to lose a friend! I wake. Well, wake again. Summer now, no horse, no snow. But I still know to save my friend our digging has to stop. Mare said the toxin's all up top.

NOTES IN THE MORNING

• Become an animal person in a land where magic works: I've been reading Daughter of the Bear King by Eleanor Arnason. Definite echoes.
• Toxic thing on the ground but not under it: both rug and futon in my housemate's bedroom. Cheer up! Nightmare thinks the subfloor's not bad; it's surface yuck.
• ACTION: Urge Lisa to replace her grubby old futon-mattress, not just remove the filthy rug. One or both are allergenic...

THAT DAY

We strip off the rug to find the subfloor beat-up but not wet or moldy. So old it might have asbestos--dangerous to disturb--so we seal it off with acrylic and insulated pads, install a floating vinyl floor. After, the room feels lighter, drier... and clean. Healthy.

MONTHS LATER

She did replace that mattress. And got better. Nightmare was right. Not the underfloor, but rug and futon bore the Toxic Curse. Trust the nose of your horse.

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