by Ray Cummings
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE STORM.
On the little stern seat of the boat Mercer and Anina sat side by side,the girl steering by a small tiller that lay between them. They were wellout in the middle of the river now, speeding silently along with its swiftcurrent. They made extraordinary speed. Both banks of the river werevisible in the twilight--dim, wooded hills stretching back into darkness.
The stream widened steadily as they advanced, until near, its mouth it hadbecome a broad estuary. They followed its right shore now and soon wereout in the Narrow Sea.
"We'd better go right on across," said Mercer. "It's too early for Alan tobe at the end of the trail. He won't be there till to-night. We can reachthe Great City before he starts."
They decided to do that, and headed straight out into the sea. They hadbeen cold, sitting there in the wind, and wet to the skin. But the boatcontained several furry jackets, which the men had left in it, and in thebottom, near the stern, a cubical metal box which lighted up like anelectric radiator. By this they had dried and warmed themselves, and now,each with a fur jacket on, they felt thoroughly comfortable.
Mercer was elated at what they had accomplished. He could see now howfortunate a circumstance it was that we had set the men free. He would nothave stumbled upon this other party, and the invasion of the Light Countrywould have begun, had we not released them.
He talked enthusiastically about what we were to do next, and Aninalistened, saying very little, but following his words with eagerattention. Once he thought she was more interested in the words themselvesthan in what he was saying, and said so.
"Your language--so very easy it is. I want to learn it soon if I can."
"Why, you know it already," he protested. "And how the deuce you ever gotit so quickly beats me."
She smiled.
"When you say words--very easy then for me to remember. Not many words inspoken language."
He shook his head.
"Well, however you do it, the result's all right. I'm mighty glad, too.Why, when I get you back home on earth--" He stopped in sudden confusion.
She put her hand on his arm.
"Miela says your earth is very wonderful. Tell me about it."
She listened to his glowing words. "And opera--what is that?" she askedonce when he paused.
He described the Metropolitan Opera House, and the newer, finer one inBoston. She listened to his description of the music with flushed face andshining eyes.
"How beautiful--that music! Can _you_ sing, Ollie?"
"No," he admitted, "but I can play a little on a guitar. I wish I had onehere."
"I can sing," said the girl: "Miela says I can sing very well."
He leaned toward her, brushing the blue feathers of her wing lightly withhis hand.
"Sing for me," he said softly. "I'll bet you sing beautifully."
It may have been their situation, or what they had been through together,or the girl's nearness to him now with her long braids of golden hair, thegraceful sweep of her blue-feathered wings that matched the blue of hereyes, her red lips parted in song--but whatever it was, Mercer thought hehad never heard so sweet a voice. She sang a weird little song. It was ina minor key, with curious cadences that died away and ended nowhere--thefolk song of a different race, a different planet, yet vibrant with theever unsatisfied longing of the human soul.
She sang softly, staring straight before her, without thought of hersinging, thinking only of her song. She ended with a tender phrase thatmight have been a sigh--a quivering little half sob that died away in herthroat and left the song unfinished. Her hands were folded quiet in herlap; her eyes gazed out on the gray waste of water about the boat.
Mercer breathed again.
"That is beautiful, Anina. What is it?"
She turned to him and smiled.
"Just love song. You like it, my friend Ollie?"
"It's wonderful. But it's--it's so sad--and--and sort of weird isn't it?"
"That is love, my mother says. Love is sad."
Mercer's heart was beating fast.
"Is it always sad, Anina? I don't think so--do you?"
There was no trace of coquetry in her eyes; she sighed tremulously.
"I do not know about love. But what I feel here"--she put her hand on herbreast--"I do not understand, Ollie. And when I sing--they are very sadand sweet, the thoughts of music, and they say things to the heart thatthe brain does not understand. Is it that way with you?"
Unnoticed by the two, a storm cloud had swept up over the horizon behindthem, and the sky overhead was blotted now with its black. They had notseen it nor heeded the distant flashing of lightning. A sudden thunderclapstartled them now into consciousness of the scene about them. The windrushed on them from behind. The sea was rising rapidly; the boat scuddedbefore it.
"A storm! Look at it, Anina, behind us!"
There was nothing in sight now but the gray sea, broken into waves thatwere beginning to curl, white and angry. Behind them the darkness wassplit with jagged forks of lightning. The thunder rolled heavily andominously in the distance, with occasional sharp cracks near at hand.
"Look, Anina--there comes the rain! See it there behind us! I hope itwon't be a bad storm. I wouldn't want to be out in this little tub."
The wind veered to the left, increasing steadily. The sea was lashed intofoam; its spray swept over the boat, drenching them thoroughly.
The waves, turning now with the wind, struck the boat on its sternquarter. One curled aboard, sloshing an inch or two of water about thebottom of the boat. Mercer feared it would interfere with the mechanism,but Anina reassured him.
As the waves increased in size, Mercer swung the boat around so as to rundirectly before them. The stern frequently was lifted clear of the waternow, the boat losing headway as a great cloud of hissing steam arose frombehind.
After a time the Light Country shore came into sight. They were close uponit before they saw it through the rain and murk. They seemed to be headingdiagonally toward it.
"Where are we, Anina?" Mercer asked anxiously.
The girl shook her head.
Steadily they were swept inward. The shore line, as they drew closer, wasto Mercer quite unfamiliar. There were no bayous here, no inundated land.Instead, a bleak line of cliffs fronted them--a perpendicular wall againstwhich the waves beat furiously. They could see only a short distance. Theline of cliffs extended ahead of them out of sight in the gray of thesheets of rain.
They were slanting toward the cliffs, and Mercer knew if he did not dosomething they would be driven against them in a few moments more.
"We'll have to turn out, Anina. We can't land along here. We must keepaway if we can."
With the waves striking its stern quarter again, the boat made muchheavier weather. It seemed to Mercer incredible that it should stayafloat. He found himself thoroughly frightened now, but when he rememberedthat Anina was in no danger he felt relieved. He had made her lie down inthe boat, where she would be more sheltered from the wind and rain. Now hehastily bade her get up and sit beside him.
"We might be swamped any minute, Anina. You sit there where you won't getcaught if we go over."
They swept onward, Mercer keeping the boat offshore as best he could.
"Haven't you any idea where we are, Anina? How far along do these cliffsextend?"
A huge, jagged pinnacle of rock, like a great cathedral spire set in thecliff, loomed into view ahead. Anina's face brightened, when she saw it.
"The way to the Water City," she cried. "A river there is--ahead. Not sovery far now."
In spite of all Mercer could do, they were blowing steadily closer to thewave-lashed cliffs.
He began to despair. "If anything happens, Anina--you fly up at once. Youhear? Don't you wait. You can't help me any. I'll make out some way. Yousay good-by to Alan and your mother and sister for me--if--" He fellsilent a moment, then said softly: "And, Anina, if that should happen, Iwant you to know that I think you're the sweete
st, most wonderful littlegirl I ever met. And, Anina dear--"
The girl gripped his arm with a cry of joy.
"See, Ollie! There, ahead, the cliffs end. That is the Water City river!See it there?"
The mouth of a broad estuary, with the waves rolling up into it, cameswiftly into view. They rounded the rocky headland and entered it, runningnow almost directly before the wind. The river narrowed after a shortdistance to a stream very much like the one they had left in the TwilightCountry.
Mercer turned to the quiet little girl beside him.
"Well, Anina, we've certainly had some trip. I wouldn't want to go throughit again."
Mercer thought the situation over. They could stay where they were in theriver for an hour or two until the storm was entirely over, and then goback to the Great City. On the other hand, now that they were here, Mercerfelt a great curiosity to see this other city where Tao's men had createdtrouble. Why should they not use these few hours of waiting to see it?
"We might get a line on how things stand up there to tell Alan when we getback," Mercer said when he explained his ideas to Anina. "It won't takelong." Very probably it was the light-ray cylinder in his hand whichinfluenced his decision, for he added: "We can't get into any trouble, youknow; there's no light-ray here yet."
And so they went on.
There was a perceptible current coming down the river. The water was coldand clear, and in the brighter light now he could see down into it in manyplaces to the bottom, six or eight feet below. The region seemed utterlyuninhabited; no sign of a house or even a boat on the river met them asthey advanced.
"Mightn't there be boats along here?" Mercer asked once. "How far up _is_this place?"
"Not far now--beyond there."
The river appeared to terminate abruptly up ahead against the side of afrowning brown cliff, but Mercer saw a moment later that it opened outaround a bend to the left.
"Around that next bend?"
She nodded.
It seemed incredible to Mercer that the second largest city in Mercury layhidden in the midst of this desolation.
"We'll meet boats," he said. "What will the people think of me? Don'tlet's start anything if we can help it."
"You lie there." Anina indicated the bottom of the boat at her feet. "Noone see you then. I steer. They do not notice me. Nobody care who I am."
Mercer had still the very vaguest of ideas as to what they would do whenthey got to the Water City. As a matter of fact, he really was morecurious just to see it than anything else. But there was another reasonthat urged him on. Both he and Anina were hungry.
They had eaten very little since leaving the Great City the night before;and now that it was again evening, they were famished. They had rummagedthe boat thoroughly, but evidently the men had taken all their suppliesashore with them, for nothing was in the boat.
"We'll have to dope out some way to get something to eat," said Mercer.
They came upon the sharp bend in the river Anina had indicated. Followingclose against one rocky shore, they swept around the bend, and the WaterCity lay spread out before Mercer's astonished eyes.
