Unnatural Creatures

by Neil Gaiman

  THREE

  Outside, the clouds hung so low the top of the ship’s tallest mast threatened to prick one open. The wind tossed about in Amos’s red hair and scurried in and out of his rags. Sitting on the railing of the ship, a sailor was splicing a rope.

  “Good evening,” said Amos. “I’m exploring the ship, and I have very little time. I have to be up at four o’clock in the morning. So can you tell me what I must be sure to avoid because it would be so silly and uninteresting that I would learn nothing from it?”

  The sailor frowned awhile, then said, “There is nothing at all interesting in the ship’s brig.”

  “Thank you very much,” said Amos, and walked on till he came to another sailor, whose feet were awash in soapsuds. The sailor was pushing a mop back and forth so hard that Amos decided he was trying to scrub the last bit of color off the grey boards. “Good evening to you too,” said Amos. “I’m exploring the ship, and I have very little time since I’m to be up at four o’clock in the morning. I was told to avoid the brig. So could you point it out to me? I don’t want to wander into it by accident.”

  The sailor leaned his chin on his mop handle awhile, then said, “If you want to avoid it, don’t go down the second hatchway behind the wheelhouse.”

  “Thank you very much,” said Amos, and hurried off to the wheelhouse. When he found the second hatchway, he went down very quickly and was just about to go to the barred cell when he saw the grimy sailor with the iron key—who must be the jailer as well, thought Amos.

  “Good evening,” Amos said. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine, and how is yourself, and what are you doing down here?”

  “I’m standing here, trying to be friendly,” said Amos. “I was told there was nothing of interest down here. And since it is so dull, I thought I would keep you company.”

  The sailor fingered his key awhile, then said, “That is kind of you, I suppose.”

  “Yes, it is,” said Amos. “What do they keep here that is so uninteresting everyone tells me to avoid it?”

  “This is the ship’s brig, and we keep prisoners here. What else should we keep?”

  “That’s a good question,” said Amos. “What do you keep?”

  The jailer fingered his key again, then said, “Nothing of interest at all.”

  Just then, behind the bars, Amos saw the pile of grubby grey blankets move. A corner fell away, and he saw just the edge of something as red as his own bright hair.

  “I suppose, then,” said Amos, “I’ve done well to avoid coming here.” And he turned around and left. But that night, as the rain poured over the deck and the drum-drum-drumming of heavy drops lulled everyone on the ship to sleep, Amos hurried over the slippery boards under the dripping eaves of the wheelhouse to the second hatchway, and went down. The lamps were low, the jailer was huddled asleep in a corner on a piece of grey canvas, but Amos went immediately to the bars and looked through.

  More blankets had fallen away, and besides a red as bright as his own hair, he could see a green the color of parrot’s feathers, a yellow as pale as Chinese mustard, and a blue as brilliant as the sky at eight o’clock in July. Have you ever watched someone asleep under a pile of blankets? You can see the blankets move up and down, up and down with breathing. That’s how Amos knew this was a person. “Pssst,” he said. “You colorful but uninteresting person, wake up and talk to me.”

  Then all the blankets fell away, and a man with more colors on him than Amos had ever seen sat up rubbing his eyes. His sleeves were green silk with blue and purple trimming. His cape was crimson with orange design. His shirt was gold with rainbow checks, and one boot was white and the other was black.

  “Who are you?” asked the parti-colored prisoner.

  “I am Amos, and I am here to see what makes you so uninteresting that everyone tells me to avoid you and covers you up with blankets.”

  “I am Jack, the Prince of the Far Rainbow, and I am a prisoner here.”

  “Neither one of those facts is so incredible compared to some of the strange things in this world,” said Amos. “Why are you the Prince of the Far Rainbow, and why are you a prisoner?”

  “Ah,” said Jack, “the second question is easy to answer, but the first is not so simple. I am a prisoner here because a skinny grey man stole a map from me and put me in the brig so I could not get it back from him. But why am I the Prince of the Far Rainbow? That is exactly the question asked me a year ago today by a wizard so great and so old and so terrible that you and I need never worry about him. I answered him, ‘I am Prince because my father is King, and everyone knows I should be.’ Then the wizard asked me, ‘Why should you be Prince and not one of a dozen others? Are you fit to rule, can you judge fairly, can you resist temptation?’ I had no idea what he meant, and again I answered, ‘I am Prince because my father is King.’ The wizard took a mirror and held it before me. ‘What do you see?’ he asked. ‘I see myself, just as I should, the Prince of the Far Rainbow,’ said I. Then the wizard grew furious and struck the mirror into three pieces and cried, ‘Not until you look into this mirror whole again will you be Prince of the Far Rainbow, for a woman worthy of a prince is trapped behind the glass, and not till she is free can you rule in your own land.’ There was an explosion, and when I woke up, I was without my crown, lying dressed as you see me now in a green meadow. In my pocket was a map that told me where all the pieces were hidden. Only it did not show me how to get back to the Far Rainbow. And still I do not know how to get home.”

  “I see, I see,” said Amos. “How did the skinny grey man steal it from you, and what does he want with it?”

  “Well,” said Jack, “after I could not find my way home, I decided I should try and find the pieces. So I began to search. The first person I met was the thin grey man, and with him was his large black trunk in which, he said, was his nearest and dearest friend. He said if I would work for him and carry his trunk, he would pay me a great deal of money with which I could buy a ship and continue my search. He told me that he himself would very much like to see a woman worthy of a prince. ‘Especially,’ he said, ‘such a colorful prince as you.’ I carried his trunk for many months, and at last he paid me a great deal of money with which I bought a ship. But then the skinny grey man stole my map, stole my ship, and put me here in the brig, and told me that he and his nearest and dearest friend would find the mirror all for themselves.”

  “What could he want with a woman worthy of a prince such as you?” asked Amos.

  “I don’t even like to think about it,” said Jack. “Once he asked me to unzip the leather flap at the end of the trunk and stick my head in to see how his nearest and dearest friend was getting along. But I would not because I had seen him catch a beautiful blue bird with red feathers round its neck and stick it through the same zipper, and all there was was an uncomfortable sound from the trunk, something like Orulmhf.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Amos. “I know the sound. I do not like to think what he would do with a woman worthy of a prince such as you either.” Yet Amos found himself thinking of it. “His lack of friendship for you certainly doesn’t speak well of his friendship for his nearest and dearest.”

  Jack nodded.

  “Why doesn’t he get the mirror himself, instead of asking me?” Amos wanted to know.

  “Did you look at where the pieces were hidden?” asked Jack.

  “I remember that one is two leagues short of over there, the second is up this one, and the third is somewhere nearer than you think.”

  “That’s right,” said Jack. “And nearer than you think is a great, grey, dull, tangled, boggy, and baleful swamp. The first piece is at the bottom of a luminous pool in the center. But it is so grey there that the grey man would blend completely in with the scenery and never get out again. Up this one is a mountain so high that the North Wind lives in a cave there. The second piece of the mirror is on the highest peak of that mountain. But it is so windy there, and the grey man is so thin, he would be blown awa
y before he was halfway to the top. Two leagues short of over there, where the third piece is, there stretches a garden of violent colors and rich perfumes where black butterflies glisten on the rims of pink marble fountains, and bright vines weave in and about. The only thing white in the garden is a silver-white unicorn who guards the last piece of the mirror. Perhaps the grey man could get that piece himself, but he will not want to, I know, for lots of bright colors give him a headache.”

  “Then it says something for his endurance that he was able to put up with your glittering clothes for so long,” said Amos. “Anyway, I don’t think it’s fair of our grey friend to get your mirror with your map. You should at least have a chance at it. Let me see, the first place we are going is somewhere nearer than you think.”

  “In the swamp, then,” said Jack.

  “Would you like to come with me,” asked Amos, “and get the piece yourself?”

  “Of course,” said Jack. “But how?”

  “I have a plan,” said Amos, who could think very quickly when he had to. “Simply do as I say.” Amos began to whisper through the bars. Behind them the jailer snored on his piece of canvas.

  FOUR

  At four o’clock the next morning when the dawn was foggy and the sun was hidden and the air was grey as grey could be, the ship pulled up to the shore of a great, grey, dull, tangled, boggy, and baleful swamp.

  “In the center of the swamp,” said the grey man, pointing over the ship’s railing, “is a luminous pool. At the bottom of the pool is a piece of mirror. Can you be back with it by lunch?”

  “I think so,” said Amos. “But that is terribly grey. I might blend into the scenery so completely I could never get out again.”

  “With your red hair?” asked the grey man.

  “My red hair,” said Amos, “is only on the top of my head. My clothes are ragged and dirty and will probably turn grey in no time with all that mist. Are there any bright-colored clothes on the ship, glittering with gold and gleaming with silk?”

  “There is my closet full of jewels,” said the grey man. “Wear as many as you want.”

  “They would weigh me down,” said Amos, “and I could not be back for lunch. No, I need a suit of clothes that is bright and brilliant enough to keep me from losing myself in all that. For if I do lose myself, you will never have your mirror.”

  So the grey man turned to one of his sailors and said, “You know where you can get him such a suit.”

  As the man started to go, Amos said, “It seems a shame to take someone’s clothes away, especially since I might not come back anyway. Give my rags to whoever owns the suit to keep for me until I return.” Amos jumped out of his rags and handed them to the sailor, who trotted off toward the wheelhouse. Minutes later he was back with a bright costume: the sleeves were green silk with blue and purple trimming, the cape was crimson with orange design, the shirt was gold with rainbow checks, and sitting on top of it all was one white boot and one black.

  “These are what I need,” said Amos, putting on the clothes quickly, for he was beginning to get chilly standing in his underwear. Then he climbed over the edge of the boat into the swamp. He was so bright and colorful that nobody saw the figure in dirty rags run quickly behind them to the far end of the ship and also climb over into the swamp. Had the figure been Amos—it was wearing Amos’s rags—the red hair might have attracted some attention, but Jack’s hair, for all his colorful costume, was a very ordinary brown.

  The grey man looked after Amos until he disappeared. Then he put his hand on his forehead, which was beginning to throb a little, and leaned against the black trunk, which had been carried to the deck.

  Glumphvmr came from the trunk.

  “Oh, my nearest and dearest friend,” said the grey man, “I had almost forgotten you. Forgive me.” He took from his pocket an envelope, and from the envelope he took a large, fluttering moth. “This flew in my window last night,” he said. The wings were pale blue, with brown bands on the edges, and the undersides were flecked with spots of gold. He pushed in a long metal flap at the side of the trunk, very like a mail slot, and slid the moth inside.

  Fuffle came from the trunk, and the grey man smiled.

  In the swamp, Amos waited until the prince had found him. “Did you have any trouble?” Amos asked.

  “Not at all,” laughed Jack. “They didn’t even notice that the jailer was gone.” For what they had done last night, after we left them, was to take the jailer’s key, free the prince, and tie up the jailer and put him in the cell under all the grey blankets. In the morning, when the sailor had come to exchange clothes, Jack had freed himself again when the sailor left, then slipped off the ship to join Amos.

  “Now let us find your luminous pool,” said Amos, “so we can be back by lunch.”

  “Together they started through the marsh and muck. “You know,” said Amos, stopping once to look at a grey spiderweb that spread from the limb of a tree above them to a vine creeping on the ground, “this place isn’t so grey after all. Look closely.”

  And in each drop of water on each strand of the web, the light was broken up as if through a tiny prism into blues and yellows and reds. As they looked, Jack sighed. “These are the colors of the Far Rainbow,” he said.

  He said no more, but Amos felt very sorry for him. They went quickly now toward the center of the swamp. “No, it isn’t completely grey,” said Jack. On a stump beside them a green-grey lizard blinked a red eye at them, a golden hornet buzzed above their heads, and a snake that was grey on top rolled out of their way and showed an orange belly.

  “And look at that!” cried Amos.

  Ahead through the tall grey tree trunks, silvery light rose in the mist.

  “The luminous pool!” cried the prince, and they ran forward.

  Sure enough, they found themselves on the edge of a round, silvery pool. Across from them, large frogs croaked, and one or two bubbles broke the surface. Together Amos and Jack looked into the water.

  Perhaps they expected to see the mirror glittering in the weeds and pebbles at the bottom of the pool; perhaps they expected their own reflections. But they saw neither. Instead, the face of a beautiful girl looked up at them from below the surface.

  Jack and Amos frowned. The girl laughed, and the water bubbled.

  “Who are you?” asked Amos.

  In return, from the bubbles they heard, “Who are you?”

  “I am Jack, Prince of the Far Rainbow,” said Jack, “and this is Amos.”

  “I am a woman worthy of a prince,” said the face in the water, “and my name is Lea.”

  Now Amos asked, “Why are you worthy of a prince? And how did you get where you are?”

  “Ah,” said Lea, “the second question is easy to answer, but the first is not so simple. For that is the same question asked me a year and a day ago by a wizard so great and so old and so terrible that you and I need never worry about him.”

  “What did you say to him?” asked Jack.

  “I told him I could speak all the languages of men, that I was brave and strong and beautiful, and could govern beside any man. He said I was proud, and that my pride was good. But then he saw how I looked in mirrors at my own face, and he said that I was vain, and my vanity was bad, and that it would keep me apart from the prince I was worthy of. The shiny surface of all things, he told me, will keep us apart, until a prince can gather the pieces of the mirror together again, which will release me.”

  “Then I am the prince to save you,” said Jack.

  “Are you indeed?” asked Lea, smiling. “A piece of the mirror I am trapped in lies at the bottom of this pool. Once I myself dived from a rock into the blue ocean to retrieve the pearl of white fire I wear on my forehead now. That was the deepest dive ever heard of by man or woman, and this pool is ten feet deeper than that. Will you still try?”

  “I will try and perhaps die trying,” said Jack, “but I can do no more and no less.” Then Jack filled his lungs and dove headlong into the pool.<
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  Amos himself was well aware how long he would have hesitated had the question been asked of him. As the seconds passed, he began to fear for Jack’s life, and wished he had had a chance to figure some other way to get the mirror out. One minute passed; perhaps they could have tricked the girl into bringing it up herself. Two minutes—they could have tied a string to the leg of a frog and sent him down to do the searching. Three minutes—there was not a bubble on the water, and Amos surprised himself by deciding the only thing to do was to jump in and at least try to save the prince. But there was a splash at his feet!

  Jack’s head emerged, and a moment later his hand holding the large fragment of a broken mirror came into sight. Amos was so delighted he jumped up and down. The prince swam to shore, and Amos helped him out. Then they leaned the mirror against a tree and rested for a while. “It’s well I wore these rags of yours,” said Jack, “and not my own clothes, for the weeds would have caught in my cloak and the boots would have pulled me down and I would have never come up. Thank you, Amos.”

  “It’s a very little thing to thank me for,” Amos said. “But we had better start back if we want to be at the ship in time for lunch.”

  So they started back and by noon had nearly reached the ship. Then the prince left the mirror with Amos and darted on ahead to get back to the cell. Then Amos walked out to the boat with the broken glass.

  “Well,” he called up to the thin grey man, who sat on the top of the trunk, waiting, “here is your mirror from the bottom of the luminous pool.”

  The grey man was so happy he jumped from the trunk, turned a cartwheel, then fell to wheezing and coughing and had to be slapped on the back several times.

  “Good for you,” he said when Amos had climbed onto the deck and given him the glass. “Now come have lunch with me, but for heaven’s sake get out of that circus tent before I get another headache.”

  So Amos took off the prince’s clothes and the sailor took them to the brig and returned with Amos’s rags. When he had dressed and was about to go in with the grey man to lunch, his sleeve brushed the grey man’s arm. The grey man stopped and frowned so deeply his face became almost black. “These clothes are wet, and the ones you wore were dry.”