Time's Dark Laughter Part 4

"Feel better?" asked Beauty, whisking the last of the water from the Bear's back.

"Beaute Centauri, I am shamed to have you see me so. Stinking like a Human." He spat.

"You stink like a Bear who has forgotten the forest and thinks perhaps he can remember it chewing jimson weed." "I have not forgotten!" he growled. Then, softer: "I have not forgotten." He licked his paw. "Only, this city is making me crazy with citysickness. We sit and we wait for the Doge to attack, and still we wait. We live crowded together in houses and huts so the Doge can't guess our numbers from his spy ships on the sea. Can you believe it, Beaute? In a house it isn't possible to see the sky, or smell the forest, or roll in muddy gra.s.s. But still we sit. We are behaving like the Doge's Humans so we can destroy them, and instead we are becoming them. How is it possible, Beaute Centauri?"

Beauty smiled, sensing the old Bear's spirit returning. "It is not only possible but inevitable, D'Ursu Magna. We all become as we behave. So it is important to behave properly."

The Bear-Chieftain wagged his head. "I can't abide this city, and I can't leave Jarl, our King . . ." He stopped and looked at Beauty as if seeing him for the first time. "Ah, Beaute Centauri," he roared, and gave the Centaur a long Bear hug.

Beauty returned the fond embrace, then sat beside the old Bear. D'Ursu spoke again.

"What a vile old Bear I've become. It's the stinking city, I tell you-but that's no excuse, I know. You need help, I can see it in your eye. How can I help you?"

"I will come quickly to the point, for I have not time, old friend. My wife, Rose, has gone. I track her south-to The City With No Name. I need help getting into that city."

"Your wife, Rose." The Bear scratched at the fur on his cheek with his huge paw. "A Human, is she not? As I recall, you were trailing her south last time we met. Have you not found her yet? Or is she forever wandering off?"

"Do not jest with me, ugly Bear. Her absence has torn a piece from my heart." He went on to tell D'Ursu about how the shadow of earlier times had overtaken him and Rose.

"But why?" D'Ursu squinted, unable to comprehend.

"I believe to regain something of herself she felt she had lost."

It was beyond the Bear. "How Human," he said, somewhat baffled.

"Yes," responded Beauty, "how very Human." In his voice was love.

"And this other Human, this Plugger," D'Ursu went on, "what was his measure?"

"I liked him not." Beauty closed his eyes to blot out the man's image, but this only brought it out more clearly, so he opened them again. "He said everything he had to say as if it were a conspiracy, to be kept from everyone to whom he was not speaking. It pleased me no more to be included than excluded. Still, he shared much with Rose that I could not share." This clearly pained the Centaur. "His name was Blackwind. I liked him not."

D'Ursu dangled his legs in the pond. "So now you want to get back inside the City and search for Rose once again. Beaute, don't think me harsh, but this has the smell of a dry hunt. She left you of her own will, in her own time. What if you find her and she doesn't wish to return?"

This was a hard question for Beauty, but one he had already faced. "If she wants to stay there, I will leave her and find my own place. First, though, I must find her to ask."

D'Ursu Magna rolled into the water, swam down twenty feet to snap up a dozing fish he had had his eye on, then floated to the surface and lumbered back onto the bank. "I think I can help you," he said around a mouthful of fish. "And free myself from this stinking city as well." He stood up and wiped his snout with the back of his paw. "You wait here, Beaute Centauri. I have things to do. I'll be back by sunfall." So saying, he waddled back into Newport.

Beauty watched him with affection, and tried to suppress the spark of hope the grizzled old Bear had ignited.

Jarl, the Bear-King, looked out over the sea. It shattered the sunlight in its churning stillness, like the face of a highly cut gem.

"It's cold, even this far south," said D'Ursu. "Newport was never this cold before."

"I like the cold," growled Jarl.

D'Ursu remained silent. He carefully chose the issues over which he argued with his King.

Jarl spoke again, his nose to the seawind. "My counselors tell me the Doge will attack from the water-he will send an Armada. I disagree, D'Ursu. What say you?"

"My Bear," said D'Ursu Magna, "I wish to leave."

Jarl looked down on his lieutenant. "The Doge frightens you?"

"No, my King. I wish to accompany our old friend Beaute Centauri on a quest of his. He has asked my help."

"Who is this Centaur, and what is his quest?" The old King looked skeptical.

"You remember him, your Animal Honor. He came through our forest many seasons ago with his Human comrade, seeking his Human wife. It was decided their quest was with justice."

Jarl nodded, straining to remember. Long memory was not an animal virtue. "Humans, by and large, are the lowest form of animal," he cautioned. "I think you would do better to remain here."

"I don't mark many Humans as friend," D'Ursu agreed. "But this Human who rode with Beaute Centauri-we learned from him. For this reason I would help Beaute find him now. Also that Beaute Centauri is my great friend and an animal of virtue, and he has asked my help. Also that I fear to lose my spirit if I stay too long in this city."

Jarl squinted at the sun's reflection off the water. "I do recall something of this Human who came through our forest. A Scribe, I believe. He smelled not of deceit or Human-sickness. He had virtue, for a Human. Perhaps it is that a Human in the forest is more animal than an animal in the city. So you fear losing your spirit, eh? I fear we're all becoming peevish cloistered here so. We used to be free animals, D'Ursu Magna, one with the Great Forest. Now to guard our freedom, I am become a tyrant, and my animals slaves to an idea. How Human we're becoming. Yes, go, D'Ursu. Go with your friend. Friendship is the only good idea a Human ever had. Only, come back soon, and bring us a piece of the forest, that we not forget who we are."

D'Ursu lumbered in the side door of the Vampire brothel. Every city had a stable population of Vampires; and consequently, most had brothels where Humans of both s.e.xes sold warm draughts of their blood to any thirsty Vampire with the coin to buy. D'Ursu tipped the concierge, and was directed toward the end of the hall. Slowly, he walked up the dark corridor.

Along the length of the hallway, most of the doors were open, and D'Ursu Magna threw a glance into each room as he pa.s.sed. Some were empty. In one, a naked young man slept peacefully, blood crusted around his neck. In another, a jaundiced Vampire sucked lasciviously from the femoral vein of a muscular woman who moaned and swore.

D'Ursu shook his head and walked on. "Humans," he grumbled.

The door to the end room was closed. He knocked, and the weight of his paw swung it open. Inside sat two figures. On a chair in the corner was a brawny young man bandaging a small gash on his left wrist. On the bed sat a lean, handsome, pale Vampire, a cup of blood at his lips. The cup steamed a little in the unheated room.

D'Ursu spoke. "Aba-excuse me-" He started to back out, but the Vampire on the bed raised his hand.

"No, please come in, D'Ursu Magna. I was just finishing." The Vampire downed the cup in a few long swallows, turning his back somewhat to the door, for modesty's sake. D'Ursu, likewise, looked away, seeing the Vampire was a bit embarra.s.sed. The Vampire put down the empty gla.s.s and motioned to the young man on the chair, who stood and left the room without a word.

D'Ursu entered and shut the door. He and the Vampire bared necks to each other. "Forgive me, Aba, I meant only to knock and-"

"Speak no more of it, D'Ursu. How can I help you?"

They sat on the bed facing each other. "Something for both of us, perhaps. I go to The City With No Name on a mission with a friend-Beaute Centauri. He is the same Centaur who was befriended by your tutor."

Aba's pupils dilated. "He knew Sire Lon well, this Centaur?"

"Lon died saving Beaute Centauri's best friend-a Human-on the walls of the City, to which we now journey."

Aba wrapped himself in his wings against the chill hi the air. "And why does he return there now, this Beaute Centauri? And why do you join him? And why do you tell me?" There was no suspicion in his voice, no challenge; only a desire to know, as if clarity were the key to all things.

"He returns to find his wife, and to find this Human for whom Lon died. I go with him because he is my friend and he asked me to help. Also, this Human interests me- virtuous animals feel a pa.s.sion for him that is like what I feel for the Heart of the Forest. And I remember him a little myself-he was not like these greedy Humans who will sell their own blood for . . ." He stopped in mid-sentence, then dismissed what he had just been saying, with a sweep of his paw. "I meant no insult to you, Aba. It's this city. It makes me say things I-"

"No offense taken," the Vampire a.s.sured him. "Please go on." He coughed and covered his mouth with a wing tip; but they both knew he did it to obscure the shame that had fleetingly pa.s.sed across his flushed face at D'Ursu's uncensored remarks.

D'Ursu continued, in a gentler tone. "I tell you this because I know you loved Lon. He was your tutor in life, and I think you are his student still. I think you might still learn from him, at the place of his death." He paused, then went on more gruffly. "And I tell you too because I think you may be of some help to us in the city of Vampires and runaway Humans."

Aba stood and smiled. "Just so," he said.

When D'Ursu returned to the pond near dusk, accompanied by a lean, pale Vampire, Beauty was napping under a cl.u.s.ter of birches. At the first smell of the Vampire, though, he jumped awake, nostrils flaring, feet pawing the ground.

"Be calm," growled D'Ursu. 'This Vampire is friend. His name is Aba."

Beauty and Aba bared their necks to each other in the ritual sign of friendship and honor.

Aba spoke with a shyness of manner that pleased the Centaur. "D'Ursu Magna tells me you were a friend of Lon-Sire, n.o.blest of Vampires."

"n.o.blest of all creatures of the Earth," answered Beauty. "You also called him friend?"

"News of his death left me friendless."

"Then we are friends," avowed Beauty.

"D'Ursu tells me you're returning now to the place of his death-to see those, perhaps, who killed him."

"Those responsible, perhaps. Are you claiming Venge right?"

The Vampire shook his head. "Vengeance is an act of noise without light. Its echo is hollow, and never ends. No, I want no Venge right. But I would accompany you on your journey if I may-I dearly wish to see the where and the why of Sire Lon's death. I wish to understand it-that I may leave it behind. For it hasn't left me yet."

"Then welcome," Beauty said softly.

"Then let's be off," rasped D'Ursu. "I have a plan that Shoshoroo herself will sing songs about."

"And what is this plan?" the Centaur inquired with the thinnest trace of skepticism.

"To Ma'gas' by foot, along the sh.o.r.e. There we get a boat, and sail to The City With No Name."

"And when we reach the City?" Beauty pressed politely.

"Why, we walk in the front door, impudent Horse!" he bellowed, and began lumbering south. Beauty smiled and followed, Aba close behind. Neither noticed, at first, the rolled paper D'Ursu had tied deep into the fur of his belly.

They walked south along the coast all that first day, between the foothills and the sea, keeping silent for the most part. D'Ursu sang simple, growly songs when moved to do so-once by the radiance of a red poppintail bush; once by a cloud in the shape of a fish-and once, he took off in merry pursuit of a giant Jack Rabbit that looked particularly tasty.

As the sun went lower, though, and they all became easier with one another and the journey, they ventured a little conversation. For while they were each taciturn by nature, they were none of them unfriendly.

'Tell me, Aba," said Beauty, "how came you to live so far north."

"My father, may his blood run red, kept an estate near Newport. He loved the clear air and cold winds, unlike most of our race. I don't live there myself, I only visit now. I call no place home."

"Nor do I, so much the worse."

"Few can rest their bones for long hi one den any more," D'Ursu interjected. "If it isn't the Ice, it's the Ice Madness. Not a soul isn't chased or chasing."

"If I could just see the why of it, I should be happy," Aba said, a little sadly.

"Things no longer have a reason, I fear." The golden Centaur shook his head. "Ice Madness, citysickness-the world lacks reason, and there is the whole of it. It is no wonder so many have lost their balance . . ." He spoke in general terms, but his thoughts were still of Rose.

The day lost its last light, and they headed inland a bit, to look for shelter from the wind, to make their camp. The mountains were a mile offsh.o.r.e and separated from the sea by a marshy woodland, where they soon found a high dry area in a holly grove.

Aba spent the next hour gathering firewood, while Beauty shot Catfish in a nearby pond with his bow and arrow. D'Ursu discovered a string of animal traps that had been recently laid hi the tall gra.s.s by some Human trapper. One trap had a wounded Fox in it, which D'Ursu set free. The other traps were unsprung. He triggered each one with a holly branch, and then urinated on the closed device, both as an aesthetic judgment and to warn away other curious animals with his smell.

He lumbered back into camp as the fish were being cooked, and told the others what he had done. "It was a good trick," he laughed.

Aba said softly, "Humans must live, too, D'Ursu Magna. They, also, must eat."

D'Ursu's eyes narrowed. "Humans always take more than they need to live-that's just the Human way. They lay waste to the Earth, by trickery and discontent-only sometimes, we trick them back. Eh, Beaute Centauri?" The old Bear rumbled and nudged Beauty, who didn't respond. Only then did D'Ursu remember the Centaur's wife was Human, and his best friend as well. "Beaute Centauri, forgive me, I've been stupid and tactless again. Of course, it goes without saying, not all Humans are this way. Else I wouldn't be with you now." He roared ingenuously.

Beauty couldn't take offense from his old friend-the Bear was loyal and without guile. "Humans are a much-maligned race, I think," he said.

"I agree," said Aba. "They have much to offer."

"They've offered too much by half, as far as I'm concerned," spat D'Ursu. "And if they'd but leave us alone, I'd be content to do the same to them."

Night was full now, as were their stomachs; as had been the day. The ocean breeze not far away was sweet, the company good. So without further discussion, they put the fire out and went to sleep.

Aba's eyes were most sensitive in the dark, so he was awakened first. His movement aroused the other two.

"What is it?" whispered Beauty.

"A faint glow-over there." Aba pointed into the marshland. D'Ursu nodded. Beauty couldn't see it at first, and finally could only barely detect it out of the corner of his eye if he looked in another direction.

"Split up," growled D'Ursu. They fanned out slowly, to approach the glowing area from three different directions.

Beauty walked directly toward the light, which was strong enough for him to follow by the time he had gone twenty paces. It was easy to move silently, for the ground cover was mostly moss and soft dirt. The trees became thicker at one point, then thinned again; then got very close. Beyond this break, the light was fairly bright, and Beauty was able to peer around one of the larger trunks to see into an expansive clearing.

Fifty feet away, a gathering of small, Humanoid creatures was holding some kind of ritual. Beauty couldn't name them all, but among the beasts he could identify were Trolls, Dark Elves, Grendels, Spriggans, and Goblins, all standing in a circle around a ten-foot-tall cone-shaped object. They were mumbling, and pa.s.sed from hand to hand some kind of bundle, which activity caused their gold bracelets and necklaces of gems to clack and glitter in the light. It was difficult to discern much detail, however, for the only illumination afforded was by numerous jars full of fireflies flickering on and off, a cool, eerie green. Beauty silently observed.

After the bundle had been pa.s.sed all around, the mumbling stopped. The covey walked in ever smaller circles around the tall, dark cone; then one by one, each member seemed to disappear into the ground, somewhere near the base of the obelisk. Soon the clearing was empty.

Beauty waited five minutes. When nothing further happened, he softly entered the arena. He saw D'Ursu and Aba do the same. Quietly, they walked toward the center, until they met near the cone.

"What was that?" Beauty whispered.

"I've seen one before," growled D'Ursu. "A Changeling ceremony of the Unseelie Court."

Aba nodded. "I've heard of them, but never seen one."

D'Ursu continued to Beauty. "It was a Human baby they were pa.s.sing-the stinking trapper's, I don't doubt They've just stolen it, and exchanged one of their own into the Human infant's crib. In this way, one of their own race will be raised by Humans, to spy and to learn."

"And what happens to the Human child they have taken?" Beauty wondered.

D'Ursu shrugged. "No one knows. It is the secret of the Unseelie."

"We must save the babe-" Beauty began, moving toward the upright cone.

D'Ursu stopped him, though. "It is not your concern, Beaute Centauri. Other matters press us this day."

"It's difficult to fathom how they can be so cruel," said Aba. "To steal an infant from its mother, in such a calculated-"

D'Ursu raised his paw. "Both of you, hold. It is an act of self-preservation these small people have devised, to protect themselves from the blind fears and hatred of the Human. Also, we know not what is done with these Human cubs-they mayhap live in great peace beneath the Earth. Also, this is not our affair, nor ever was it. I bid you, come back to our camp, that we may continue our own search."