Warp put he tentacles down and wedged his shell out of the ground. He spun about, and jetted through the hole before the flames could fill it in again. He was through.
But of course Naught would be trying again, determined to stop the Prince before he ever arrived. That was better than having to deal with the Prince's open challenge.
Warp jetted on toward the castle, spreading his awareness ahead. Sure enough, a monster was on the way to intercept him. This was a real one, not illusionary, and represented a real danger. Again, as a Glamor, he could handle it, but a mortal Prince would be in serious trouble. How could he foil the monster without revealing his nature?
He found it. He diverged slightly from the straight route, seeking a private region to expel routine body wastes.
That was completely normal and understandable. But he did it where some bitterweed grew. He picked several ripe strands and carefully formed them into a ball. The weed was springy, but he held it tight with several tentacles, careful not to provoke it into releasing its defensive ichor. Then he resumed forward travel, for all that this was actually backward, his shell leading the way.
The monster came. It was a whale, enormously larger than any ammonoid, of a type that normally preyed on shelled creatures. Its huge jaws could crush a shell like thin tissue, and its digestive juices could readily dissolve both flesh and shell. Theoretically the predatory whales had been cleared from this region, but every so often one got through. It would be difficult to prove that this was not random.
The whale spied Warp. It wasted no time. It swooped down, its jaws gaping.
Warp blew the ball of bitterweed into that open mouth. The motion caused the ball to unwind, sending its strands springing out, releasing their reserves of ichor. A cloud formed just within the mouth as the jaws snapped shut.
Warp dodged out of the way, knowing the correct path. The teeth crunched on the bitterweed. That really set it off. Ichor fairly squirted out.
The whale looked as if it had a sudden horrible toothache. It backed off, spitting out the strands. But it was too late, for ichor coated teeth and gums. The bitterness was intolerable.
The whale fled. It would take it some time to clear the horrible taste, and its gums would ache for some time thereafter. Nothing bit down hard on bitterweed. Not intentionally.
Warp made a humorous writhing of his tentacles and jetted on. Two challenges down.
The third was not long in coming. Warp jetted through a seaweed forest and emerged to discover a vast army ahead: hundreds or thousands of armed ammonoids closing in on him. They weren't jetting backwards in the normal manner, they were angling their jets to move slowly forward, watching to make sure he couldn't escape. Their spears looked deadly sharp.
They were illusion, like the fire. But they looked real, and any ordinary person would be fooled. Warp could see though illusion, so he knew their nature. The prince would not have been able to see through them, even if he strongly suspected. And of course hidden among them were a few real soldiers, who would dispatch anyone who tried to brave the illusion. With a hundred attackers closing in, how could the victim know which one was real?
Warp jetted back into the forest, hiding. This was a temporary expedient, as the forest was not large, and the soldiers would soon enter it from all sides and locate him. Then he would have to fight, and if he won, his nature would be known. He would seem to be an alien impostor with unnatural powers, which of course he was. The people would never accept such interference in their politics.
This was the Evil Sorcerer's intention: to expose Warp as the impostor he was. To make it politically unfeasible for him to rescue the Princess. Only the Prince could legitimately rescue her.
He explored the myriad near future paths—and found one he hadn't thought of. This hazard could readily be messed up.
He altered his appearance, assuming the likeness of one of the soldiers, complete with spear. He moved through the forest, orienting on one of the real soldiers. Then he pounced from ambush, stabbing the soldier through a tentacle.
"Target found!" he flashed. "Pretending to be one of us!"
"You're the target!" the soldier flashed, hurting and outraged.
"What nerve!" Warp flashed. "Give it up, impostor, we've caught you."
The other soldiers were confused. The many illusions followed the example of the few real ones, and the real ones were not sure which of the two accusing soldiers was correct. One of the real ones had to get close enough to recognize the two personally.
There was a convergence as a real soldier rapidly approached, mirrored by twenty pretend ones. The twenty so obscured the scene that by the time the real one verified the identity of the wounded soldier, Warp was safely away, lost amidst the hundreds. They would never find him now. He had found the one place to hide that could not be penetrated: their own number.
He worked his way to the back of the throng, then slipped away, unobserved. His awareness of the near future paths enabled him to time it perfectly, when no one was looking. His awareness did not show, so was safe to use, provided he chose the correct paths.
He reached the usurper castle without further event; evidently the Evil Sorcerer had given up on intercepting him.
Now where was the Princess? He clairvoyantly checked the castle, and found a cellar chamber where a lovely female was confined. That would be it.
He went to that chamber, avoiding discovery by guards, and addressed the female. "Princess," he flashed.
"Prince!" she flashed in glad response. "You have come to rescue me!" She was stunningly pretty up close. Voila had teased him about the sexy squid princess, but it was true.
"I have," he agreed. "But we must be careful, lest we be discovered."
"I didn't think you would. I thought you lacked the nerve."
"My lack of nerve has been exaggerated."
"I know the guards' rounds," she said eagerly. "One is due soon; then they'll retire for an hour to gamble."
"That will do." He retreated, avoiding discovery by the "soon" guard. Once he passed, Warp returned.
"There's a loose bar," she said. "I lack the strength to free it, but surely you can."
He found it, and loosened it without undue difficulty. Then he used it to pry out another bar, giving her space to leave the chamber.
They jetted down the passage, and were safely out of the castle well before the guard was due to check the cell again. It was almost too easy.
That alerted Warp. He checked—and found that the Princess was not a Glamor. She was a mortal ammonoid.
A fake.
He had fallen for the ruse. He was disgusted.
"Beware—there are more patrols around the castle," she flashed.
He knew; he was watching them with his wider awareness. His problem was more immediate: what to do with this impostor? He knew whom she was: Naughty Nautilus, the Evil Wizard's daughter. The King had warned him about her. Warp simply hadn't been properly alert.
She turned to face him, her tentacles writhing fetchingly, the colors of concern. "Are you well, Prince? You seem confused."
He had to be rid of her, but it wouldn't do to tell her what he knew, because that would reveal his own nature.
He had to find a natural way to "discover" her identity. For now he would have to play along.
"I get nervous under pressure," he flashed.
"So you do have some remaining nerve damage," she said sympathetically. "There were horrible stories. I hoped they weren't true."
"They were true. I function, but with limitations."
"You poor thing!" She twined tentacles with him, evincing caring. "You were so brave to come rescue me, after your awful experience."