Kingdoms of Light

by Alan Dean Foster

  "I guess we don't," confessed Oskar. "Just to satisfy my curiosity, what's a kwavin?"

  Her responsive, dewy-eyed gaze was moist with compassion. "That you have no thought or notion of the most vital piece of Slevish attire surely proves your ignorance of this land. It is fortunate for you that you arrived on such a cloudy day." Her gaze swept past him to encompass his waiting, watching companions. "You must come with us, quickly, so that we can make kwavins for you all. Without them you will not live long in this country." She gestured in the direction of the now distant great wall. "Those who arrive kwavinless invariably perish before we can help them." With an air of majesty swirling about her that was most impressive for her size, she turned and moved to rejoin her retinue.

  Cezer rose to join Oskar and Mamakitty. There was a twinkle in his eye. "Pretty little thing. I wouldn't mind chasing her tail—if she had one. What was that all about?"

  Oskar scratched absently at his left ear. "It seems we're all in great danger unless we allow them to provide us with something called a kwavin." He glanced upward. "Apparently it has something to do with the sky. Whatever the danger she was referring to, the clouds protected us from it."

  The swordsman sniffed. "Cats don't get sunburned, if that's what she's talking about. But if they want to give us some kind of talisman or charm for free, that's fine with me. What's a kwavin?"

  "I don't know. I asked, but she never got around to telling me. She's very nice, but her manner is a little on the imperious side."

  "Well, ssst, as long as this kwavin thing doesn't require any tiresome contribution on our part. Something like body modification, say, or the payment of some outrageous fee." Reaching up, he felt of the small notch in his right ear. Mamakitty had taken it out of him when, as a kitten, he was even more generally obnoxious than he was now.

  "Until we know what a kwavin is, there's no point in assuming the worst." Squinting toward the setting sun, Mamakitty set off in the wake of the princess. For an instant, something seemed to hold her back, but it soon dropped away. Rested and relaxed, her friends followed.

  When they turned to retrace their steps, the line of marchers swiftly and as precisely as a coordinated dance team shifted the elaborately decorated sunshades they carried from their left sides to the right, to ward off the last rays of the setting sun. Oskar found his curiosity piqued by the unexpectedly energetic move. Were the Slevish demonstrating their martial efficiency, utilizing shades in place of pikes? Did the balletic gesture have some unknown religious significance? Were they trying to impress the bigger strangers with an unspoken ability to coordinate their actions? Or, bearing in mind Cezer's earlier comment, was their skin simply excessively sensitive to the effects of direct sunlight?

  Though certainly a possibility, the latter seemed unlikely. While decidedly pale, the Slevish were not albinos. Even with the lemony cast the ambient light conferred upon everything it touched, he could tell that the flesh of the little folk was not particularly white. Nor did the cloud-muted light that had bathed him and his friends ever since they had entered the Kingdom of Yellow feel in any way unnatural. On the contrary, it was as warm and pleasant as the land it nourished. No, the plethora of carefully deployed sunshades must serve some other, ceremonial purpose beyond simply shielding their holders from ordinary daylight. He would put the question to Princess Ourie when next the opportunity presented itself.

  If the much smaller Slevish were intimidated by their visitors, they showed no sign of it—though Oskar caught one or two glancing uncertainly in Samm's direction. The snake-man was so very much larger, they could not help but consider his presence. As the long column crossed several thickly vegetated hills, he noted with approval that even in the company of their new hosts, progress continued to be made eastward. They were sacrificing no time by accompanying the Slevish.

  The community situated on the shore of a vast, yellow-tinged lake was more a large village than a small town. Despite the presence of hundreds of dwellings, there was no central square and no structure higher than two stories. Perfectly formed Slevish children, active and bright-eyed as a wizard's toys, congregated in batches to gawk at the towering strangers. They clustered around Oskar and Mamakitty, Cocoa and Cezer and Taj, but shied uneasily away from the perambulating man-mountain that was Samm. Though it was in no wise his fault, he could not entirely escape certain intangible characteristics of his original shape.

  Ourie led them through the village and down to the lakeshore. Dozens of willowy, low-slung outriggers rested on the yellow-white sand like beached scarecrows. Fishing nets hung on drying poles, oddly aligned with the setting sun instead of spread against it to take maximum advantage of its drying rays. A few children ran along the beach, laughing and playing, while adults sat and worked at cleaning fish, salamanders, and frogs, or mending nets, or repairing boats. All those not seated in the shade, Oskar noted with bemused interest, carried the by now familiar woven shades to shield them from the sun. Clearly no one went outside, even for a short stroll, without one of the omnipresent shades.

  What was it with these otherwise perfectly healthy-looking people that forced them to so assiduously hide from the sun's seemingly beneficent rays? He really must ask the princess the first chance he got, Oskar decided.

  That the matter of constant shading involved only sunshine was confirmed when it finally set. When the last direct rays had faded, people immediately began to emerge from the cover of their shelters, and to put down the woven shades they had been carrying. A palpable sense of relief rippled through the community. Cezer, Cocoa, and the others took only casual notice of the change. Only Oskar and Mamakitty, with whom he had been discussing the curious business, wondered at the abrupt transformation.

  Ourie beckoned for them to join her, and they soon found themselves seated by the shore of the vast lake. Women of the Slevish, each one more petite and attractive than the next, were seated on the sand or on benches weaving a number of the intricate sunshades that were obviously a vital component of village life. The princess introduced the visitors to these skilled weavers. Those singled out by the greeting smiled ingratiatingly at their guests while practiced fingers flew without pause, effortlessly braiding fronds and leaves into oversize, lightweight sunscreens. So large were the particular examples they were working on that when finished, they would be big enough to shield Oskar or any of his friends from the effects of the sun. Near the back, four women were working together on a most monstrous shade indeed, which Oskar suspected could only be intended for Samm. Interestingly, they worked on into the gathering darkness without benefit of torch or firelight. Drawn in spite of themselves, Cezer and Cocoa sat and began playing with the ends of the bobbing, fluttering fronds.

  "Let me guess," Oskar ventured to their royal hostess. "A kwavin is one of these sunshades."

  She nodded briskly. "These we make as gifts to you. It is part of our birthright not to allow the ignorant to perish from their ignorance."

  "That's kind of them, but not exactly flattering," Taj whispered to Samm.

  Stepping forward, Cezer admired both the skilled handiwork and the delicate features of the Slevish women. "I don't want to insult them by refusing a gift, but I happen to enjoy walking in the sunshine. The weather here is delightful, and I'd just as soon not have to bother with lugging around a shade, or kwavin, or whatever."

  "But you must!" Princess Ourie turned limpid eyes on the charmed cat-man. Gazing into them, he was reminded of a snapper whose head he had once consumed with great relish. "Without kwavins, you will die even before you reach the Great Rift. Do you not remember what I said about being unable to escape that which you carry within yourselves?"

  Cezer responded with a gesture that, had the princess understood its meaning, might have offended her. "I'm not romping through beautiful country in perfect weather carrying around some stupid sunscreen. If the rest of you want to be polite and do so, that's your business." He walked down to the water's edge and found a comfortable patch of sand on
which to flop. A sliver of silver-yellow moon was rising in the distance, painting the image of a molten staircase on the rippling waters.

  Kneeling beside the princess to bring his face closer to hers, Oskar murmured politely. "Please excuse my friend. He's somewhat headstrong. It's his nature, and he can't help himself. Tell me; what danger do we face that lies within ourselves, and in the depths of this great rift, that requires us to carry sunscreens with us wherever we go? I confess I don't understand."

  "Nor do any of us," added Mamakitty from nearby.

  Oskar's contriteness melted a little of the anger Cezer's intemperate words had engendered in the princess. "Come in the morning and you will see." She nodded in Cezer's direction, where the cat-man was lying contentedly on the warm sand. "Your friend will show you."

  Not even Taj, who was the smallest of the visitors, could fit comfortably within one of the numerous huts, but the travelers did not suffer from their lack of shelter. Night proved as benign as day in this marvelous country, and they slept content and confident by the shore of the lake. Samm in particular luxuriated in near-familiar surroundings, digging in until his body was completely covered by the warm sand. Within the village, all seemed equally peaceful and happy. Nary a child cried, and those natives who worked through the night were careful to keep their conversations to a whisper so as not to disturb their neighbors.

  It was difficult, Oskar reflected as he lay down among his companions, to envision what danger could so unsettle the princess and her apparently contented people. That they dealt daily with whatever it was he had no doubt. That it was serious in nature he also conceded. He simply could not imagine what it was. If it was as deadly dangerous as Ourie insisted, it seemed unlikely it could be deflected by something as simple as a woven sunscreen. Try as he might, he could not resolve the apparent contradictions.

  His head beginning to throb from the effort of trying to envision the unimaginable, he put everything aside in favor of getting some serious rest. In his former body, sleeping was something he had always been good at.

  He felt soft skin brush up against his shoulder as a limber shape sat down next to him. Cocoa tried to sit back on her haunches, only to discover, as always, that in her present form she was in possession of too much leg and not enough haunch. She settled for stretching the former out in front of her. Despite the time she had already spent in human form, she found the position unnatural. Afraid of sitting on her tail, she was constantly shifting her seat, even though there was no longer a long, multicolored tail to sit on.

  "You know, Oskar, I always liked you. I realize that cats and dogs aren't supposed to get along, but I always admired the way you carried yourself through life."

  "Really?" He continued to gaze out across the lake. Meeting a cat's eyes was always dangerous. "How was that?"

  "Indifferently, I mean," she hastened to add, "nothing ever seemed to trouble you."

  He shrugged, his head resting on his crossed forepaws (hands, he reminded himself angrily—hands!). "As long as I got a table scrap or two, and the occasional bone, I was happy." Now he did turn to face her. In the silver-yellow moonlight, she was as graceful as she had ever been. "I always felt that cats think too much."

  Her expression was contemplative. "Maybe you're right," she eventually replied. "Though I never thought of it that way."

  "Don't stare at things so long," he suggested helpfully. "And don't worry about your appearance so much. You'll find life is easier to take."

  She considered this advice. "I don't know if I can do that. Cats are just—serious. Dogs are—"

  A voice interrupted them from behind. "Goofy," Cezer concluded, before rolling over and turning his back to them. Oskar had the feeling the swordsman would have sprayed them then and there, had not his plumbing undergone a preemptive sea change.

  "Mister Sarcasm," Cocoa muttered. Her smile returning, she lunged forward and rubbed her nose against a startled Oskar's, then rose and moved off to join Mamakitty. "See you in the morning."

  Reaching up, he slowly wiped the tip of his nose with the palm of one hand. Cats, he mused. Who could comprehend them? Their actions and antics had often bemused even Master Evyndd.

  All the more reason, he told himself, why he should not try to.

  Dawn saw the breaking of a cloudless morning. As Oskar awoke, it was to the bustle of tremendous activity within the village. It was almost as if the inhabitants were striving to accomplish as many of the day's tasks as possible before the sun was fully up. Sure enough, the instant its rays began to cast the first shadows within the community, activity slowed and did not resume until the Slevish had picked up their thickly woven sunscreens.

  With appropriate ceremony, the special kwavins that had been finished during the night were presented to the bemused travelers. Oskar and his companions were politely thankful for the gifts, Cezer included. Mamakitty and Cocoa had promised to scratch him severely if he did not respond in a courteous manner. Hiding his disdain, he smiled fatuously while accepting his own screen from two of the little women who had produced it.

  "Remember to beware," Princess Ourie warned them, "if you truly intend to try and cross the Great Rift. That which dwells within you also dwells within it." She indicated the kwavin he was balancing on his shoulder. "Keep always the sun off your selves."

  "We'll be careful." Though he spoke with assurance, Oskar had not the slightest idea what she was talking about.

  Those villagers not presently engaged in purposeful work had assembled to see the strangers on their way. Some smiled, a few wore expressions of concern, and many waved. But only with one hand, for the others were occupied in holding tight to the ingeniously decorated shades that now were everywhere in evidence, shielding them from the rising morning sun.

  Admiring the deft pattern that had been woven into it, Oskar toted his own screen effortlessly, balancing it on his left shoulder as he led the way out of the village. Against their own judgment, Princess Ourie's advisers had drawn the foolhardy travelers a map showing the easiest route to the Kingdom of Green. This help notwithstanding, they would still have to find a way safely across the Great Rift.

  He could hear Mamakitty and Cocoa chatting behind him. Cezer and Samm discussed what they were likely to find in the next kingdom while Taj happily inspected each new plant or creature they encountered. The songster had developed an inexplicable interest in biology.

  As soon as they were out of sight of the village, Cezer promptly tossed his shade into the nearest bush. Mamakitty eyed him disapprovingly. "Useful or not, that was a gift."

  "Fssst, a useless one." Spreading his arms wide, the swordsman danced a small circle, soaking up the rays of the early morning sun. "Look at me—I'm dying of sunstroke!" He lowered his arms. "You lug the ridiculous-looking things around if you want to. I've got better things to do with my hands." Cocoa immediately moved to the other side of Mamakitty.

  As the morning wore on, Cezer suffered no apparent ill effects from traveling without one of the Slevish's skillfully woven kwavins. Nor did any harm befall him all the rest of that day or night and on into the following morning. Oskar was beginning to wonder if the undefined danger of which Ourie had spoken so sincerely was a threat only to the Slevish and the other permanent denizens of this land. At that very thought, a sharp yelp from the cat-man caused him to halt and whirl.

  Cezer was lying off to the side of the trail they had been following, writhing and convulsing in the pale yellow grass. A dark rope was wrapped around his neck. His teeth were clenched and his expression distorted. So tight was the black stripe around his throat that he could not even utter a curse.

  Being the closest to him, Oskar and Taj arrived simultaneously at his side, only to see that the sooty material clamped around his neck was not a rope but a shadowy arm. This was attached, a stunned Oskar saw, to a shadowy shoulder, which in turn emerged from a shadowy torso topped by a shadowy face utterly devoid of expression, as well as anything with which to give birth to an express
ion. Cezer was caught in the murderous, unyielding grasp not of a shadowy form, but of a shadow itself.

  His shadow.

  "Look out!" The two men barely had time to jump aside as Samm arrived. The head of his immense axe preceded him by a second or two, descending in a violent arc that caused the entrapped Cezer's eyes to bulge wider than ever. As the axe head slammed into the earth with a muffled boom, a slight shudder passed through the shadow-shape, as if it were a ripple of pond water racing away from a cast stone. Quickly regaining its discrete outline and former strength, it resumed its lethal pressure on the struggling Cezer's imprisoned windpipe.

  Oskar drew his sword, only to find himself pushed aside by Mamakitty. Uttering a primordial growl, she leaped at her friend's traitorous shadow. She never reached it. At the same time she left her feet, she also cast her kwavin aside. Thus liberated, her own shadow (and it was unmistakably hers, Oskar was able to note even in the frenzy of the moment) reached out with both arms and tackled her around the ankles. Hitting the ground short of her objective, she rolled onto her back, clawing at the opaque shape. Not only was she unable to reach Cezer, she now found herself locked in a battle with the spasmodic, twitching attempts of her own shadow to slip its supple, dark fingers around her unprotected neck.

  Frantic thoughts rushing to and fro within him, Oskar beckoned for Cocoa and Taj to stay back. "Samm, over there! Never mind your weapon—just stand over there!" He pointed to a spot on the ground.

  "What?" For a snake, Samm was exceptionally bright. It was not his fault that all serpents are notoriously slow on the uptake.

  Oskar rushed to the indicated place himself. "Here! Stand right here, next to me!" While changing his position, Oskar was careful to keep his own artfully woven kwavin positioned between the sun and himself. As a result, the only shadow he cast was the one produced by the smooth, oval, inoffensive shape of the kwavin. His own specter, rebellious or otherwise, remained contained within him.