Tad Williams - Tailchaser’s Song

Is this what I look like, then? he wondered. This slender youngling is me?

He sat for a long while staring silently at the pond-Fritti, until the sun's final disappearance blackened the surface of the pool. Meerclar's Eye appeared above, and the air was filled with the busy chaos of flying insects.

As if he were dreaming, he heard a sound, a low sound, above the distant murmur of the Bigwater. A voice was raised in droning song-an odd voice, deep yet small; charged with odd dissonances.

"…Around it goes, then up and around around…, Bugs blackly, bleakly bring the blinded, sing the sound Hope, the heart's hearth, now harshly, hardly has heard How round it goes, goes round, goes round the word…"

Fritti stood wondering. Who could it be, singing such a song in the wilds of Pawdab? He walked quietly through the reeds circling the edge of the pond, following the voice to its source on the far side. As he crept through the waving stalks the song rose again:

"… Goggle, they goggle, glaring at the gleaming goad,

As wondering a-wander, they walk a-widdershins the winding road…

Now the nameless notice how, not knowing, they had never heard:

How round it goes, goes round, goes round, goes round the word…"

As the chugging voice failed again, Tailchaser approached the spot that seemed to be its source. He could smell no unusual scent, only the marsh salts and the reek of mud. He waved away a crowd of hovering water-flies with his tail and pushed through the weeds.

Crouched at the edge of the pool was a great, green frog-throat swelling and shrinking, belly mired in the mud. As Tailchaser approached slowly from behind, the frog did not turn, but only said: "Welcome, Tailchaser. Come to sit and talk."

Bemused, Fritti walked around and sat on a mat of broken stems on the muddy shoal. It seemed everybody knew his name and business.

"I heard your song," he said. "How do you know me? Who are you?"

"Mother Rebum am I. My people are old. I am the oldest." As she spoke she blinked her great eyes. "Here in the marsh we Jugurum know all. Blood and water, stone and bone. My grandmother sat by this pond eating flies when dogs flew and cats swam."

Without changing expression or moving from her crouch, Mother Rebum-as if in imitation of her ancestor-spat out a long gray tongue and-snip! -pulled in a gnat. Swallowing, she continued.

"Padding-paws, I have heard you in my marsh for five suns. The foolish seagulls have carried word of you as you walked up and down through the mud-fields. Flea and fly will bring back mention of you when you have passed. Nothing that treads the Burum-gurgun escapes the attention of old Mother Rebum."

Fritti stared at the immense frog. Silver Eye-light dappled her rough back. "What song were you singing?" he asked.

Mother Rebum croaked a laugh. Legs straining, she lifted herself. After turning sideways to eye Fritti, she settled back down heavily.

"Ah," she said. "A song of power, that was. After the Days of Fire, the Jugurum used such strong melodies to keep the ocean down in its depth and the sky hanging safely above. My song was but a small one, though, and not so ambitious. 'Twas meant only to bring you traveler's luck."

"Me?" Fritti asked. "Why me? What have I ever done for you?"

"Why, less than nothing, my furry polliwog!" chugged the frog, amused. "I did it as a service to another, to whom I owed a favor-one older even than Mother Rebum. He who asked me to aid you even walked the earth when Jargum the Great, father of my folk, strode the marshes of the elder world-or so I am told. A powerful protector you have, little cat."

Tailchaser thought he could guess the meaning of her words. So, he was still beneath the guardian shadow. The thought took the cold edge from the wind that blew across the salt mere.

"Do not think, though," Mother Rebum continued, "to escape entirely free from obligation. Your friend told me that you have been part of the great doings to the northwest, yes?" Fritti assented. "Good, then you shall tell me your story, for the feckless gulls have brought me only snatches and shards. I cannot manage Burum-gurgun, the Marsh at the Center of the World, in a proper fashion unless I am kept informed of current events in the outlands."

The Marsh at the Center of the World. Fritti smiled to himself, and began his long story.

It was almost the Hour of Deepest Quiet when he had finished. Mother Rebum had sat still throughout the entire tale, her goggle eyes watching him closely.

As he ended she blinked several times, then sat silent for a moment, her throat puffing in and out.

"Well," she said finally, "it sounds as though there have indeed been many great splashings in the ponds of the cat-folk." She paused to pluck a low-flying insect from the night air. "Hearteater was a force, a great force, and his fall shall birth many ripples. I see now why your spirit is troubled, little furback."

"Troubled? Why do you say that?"

"Why?" Mother Rebum chugged. "Because I know it. I watched you when you saw the water-shadow. I have listened to you sing for half the night. Your heart is in confusion."

"It is?" Fritti was not sure he liked the turn the conversation had taken.

"Oh, yes, my brave, questing tadpole… but fear not. If you but take my advice you will find your way happily. Remember this one thing, Tailchaser: all your troubles, all your searching, and wandering, struggling-they are as one small bubble in the world-pool."

Fritti felt chastened, and a little angry. "What do you mean? Many important things have happened since I left my home. I was not responsible for most of them, but I played a part. It is even possible that things would have gone worse had it not been for me," he finished with some pride.

"That I will grant you. Please, don't bristle so!" chuckled the old frog. "But answer me this: has the snow covered Vastnir?"

"I suppose it has by now, yes. What of it? It will be spring soon."

"Exactly, my minnow. Now, have the birds returned to Ratleaf?"

Tailchaser was not sure he saw the point. "Many of the flafa'az have made their way back… that is also true."

Mother Rebum smiled a green, toothless smile. "Very well, I shall ask you no more questions. I can see for myself, here in my lily-pond home, that the sun still crosses the sky each day. Do you understand yet?"

"No," said Fritti stubbornly.

"It is this. By the time another winter comes, and passes into another spring, Vastnir Mound and all the works of Hearteater will have disappeared entirely-lingering only in memory. Before too many more winters have come and departed, you and I also will have disappeared, leaving behind only our bones to be the home of tiny creatures. And do you know what, brave Tailchaser? The world-dance will falter not a step for any of these passings."

She brought herself up heavily to her front legs. "Now, friend cat, I must away and dunk these old bones in a mud bath. I thank you for the pleasure of your company."

So saying, she hopped to the edge of the pond, half into the stagnant water, then turned and looked back. Her round eyes blinked sleepily.

"Never fear!" she said. "I have woven my song well. If you need help you shall receive it-at least once. Look especially to things that move in water, for there lie most of my powers. Luck to you, Tailchaser!"

With a hop and a splash, Mother Rebum disappeared into the pool.

During his last night on the Pawdab, Fritti had a long, strange journey in the dream-fields.

His spirit soared like a fla-fa'az over the hills and trees and waters, the night winds beating in his face. Like the great Akor that nested in the high mountains, he sailed up, up, up. The night-belly of Meerclar was his field, to travel in where he would.