Alan Foster - Kingdoms of Light

Reluctantly, Cezer separated his paws. The mouse took a moment to preen and straighten his fur before dismissing his friends. "It's all right now," he assured them. "They're barbarians, but some of them, at least, have enough sense to listen to reason." As he said this, he glared accusingly at Cezer. The big cat growled menacingly but kept his paws to himself.

Slowly the gang of small rodents scurried or hopped away, vanishing back into the complex of crates. Squinting at them, Oskar now saw that these were riddled with neatly incised doorways and windows. Reasonably content with his appearance once more, the mouse sat down and considered the assemblage of cats, dog, bird, and snake arraigned before him.

"I'm Smegden. I was out for a breath of fresh evening air when my walk was so rudely interrupted." Again he scowled at Cezer, and again the cat ground his teeth and remained where he was. It was something, Oskar mused, to see a mouse scowl.

"This is the Kingdom of Purple."

"We already knew that," growled Cezer.

"How clever of you," Smegden responded without hesitation. "This kingdom is unique in that it is home to intelligence of every kind. All are welcome here, no matter how simple or low." It was fortunate he did not glance at Cezer as he said this, as the cat was just about at the end of his patience with this mouse, his companions' equivocation notwithstanding.

"All animals who arrive in the kingdom gain the power of unified speech. Humans who wash up on the beach or otherwise make their way here are reduced to their animal natures. This is the consequence of a protective enchantment enjoined by the kingdom's original inhabitants, the Folk of Faerie and Fancy. Ogres, imps, elves, gnomes, trolls, gremlins, faeries fine and foul, hobgoblins, sprites—whereas elsewhere they exist in intermittent conflict with one another, and under the burden of much disbelief in their corporeal selves—here they thrive together in peace and contentment. The Kingdom of Purple is a Utopia for all who have been displaced, be they animal, human, or enchanted. So it is for my kind as well as for you and yours."

Oskar looked thoughtful. "If it's such a paradise, then why the need for something called a Night Guard?"

Preceded by his whiskers, Smegden turned in the dog's direction. "There are always one or two malcontents, even in Purple. Anyone can have a bad day. Even an elf. Even," he added, this time looking but not glaring in Cezer's direction, "a cat."

"A cat who's still mighty hungry." Having come to see the obstreperous rodent in a different light, Cezer refrained from licking his chops. It could have been considered impolite.

"Cezer's not alone." It still took an effort for Cocoa to see the loquacious mouse as a friend and guide instead of a quick, crunchy snack. "How do you get along here with other cats? Not to mention hawks and owls, and wolves, and buck-toothed goblins. Does everyone become a vegetarian?"

"That would be no paradise," Samm hissed. "Snakes can't eat fruit. It's the pits."

"Obviously," Smegden informed them, "none of you has ever heard of, much less encountered, meatfruit."

Oskar gawked at the diminutive elucidator. "We've seen and encountered much in our travels, but don't count anything called meatfruit among the marvels we've come upon."

The mouse nodded understandingly, his minuscule black nose bobbing up and down. "Then it's time that omission was remedied. Follow me."

They had walked perhaps half a block, and traveled deeper into both the city and the night, when Cezer extended a paw. "Come on, come on—up on my back. Otherwise, unless this place you're taking us to lies right around the next corner, I'll starve to death before we get there. And if you say 'giddyap' even one time, I'll bite your greasy, naked tail off at the butt."

With a curt nod, Smegden allowed himself to be lifted up and placed on Cezer's neck. The blond ruff there was so thick the mouse had to use both tiny forefeet to part it so that he could see where they were going. Tongue lolling, a panting Oskar would have offered their guide the ride had not the impatient Cezer beat him to it.

"Turn right here." Smegden pointed confidently. Beneath him, Cezer remained a cooperative but truculent steed. Noticing Cocoa smirking in his direction, he growled warningly.

"If you ever tell anyone in the woods when we get back to the Fasna Wyzel that I was a mount for a mouse, I'll personally take an inch off your left ear."

She nodded gravely in response to this threat, even as her smirk grew wider still.

"If many of the animals here were people elsewhere," Mamakitty inquired curiously of their diminutive pathfinder, "what were you?"

Smegden shrugged very small shoulders. "Does it matter?"

"No," Mamakitty admitted. "I was just curious."

"Of course you are. How else could you be?" Without answering her question, he launched into a description of the building they were passing.

When the last lavender rays of the setting sun finally vanished, it was the turn of the nocturnal inhabitants of the city to emerge from their daybeds. Meows and whistles and hisses of delight arose from the impressed visitors as the ethereal beauty of the mystical metropolis's citizens began to manifest itself.

By their nature favoring the darkness, those denizens who now variously strolled or flew forth from their dwellings generated their own light. There were glowing faerie-folk who zipped to and fro on wings of membranous luminescence, heavyset hunched-over throgs and ogres who pulsed with the intensity of their respective gruntings. Effulgent gnomes soared high on the backs of cooperative griffins whose wing-beats flung loose sparks with every powerful downbeat, and sprites communed in clusters like bunches of prattling phosphorescent grapes. Within the omnipresent purple hue, the variety and intensity of color was startling, varying from the lightest and most delicate shade of lavender to a deep Tyrolean tint that was almost black.

The temptation on the part of Cezer, Cocoa, and Mamakitty to take energetic swipes at the vast plethora of darting, plunging shapes verged on the irresistible. They restrained their natural instincts, as one must in such a place. Indiscriminately swatting down commuting residents as if they were so many mindless fireflies would be a poor way to endear themselves to a citizenry whose help they might need.

A pageant of pixies puttered past them, all hummingbird wings and uppity attitude, one adult and a couple of dozen youngsters. One of the latter flew teasingly into Cezer's ear, causing him to emit a yowl of surprise. Before he could raise a paw to scratch at the offended organ, the adolescent flier had backed out to rejoin her troupe. The cat was not amused.

"Pay no attention," his Lilliputian rider advised him. "What else can you expect from a pixie?"

"I'd like to see her laugh like that after I'd torn her wings off." Cezer reluctantly contented himself with a snarl in the direction of the rapidly retreating aerial troupe. From between his ears, Smegden leaned forward to gaze disapprovingly down into one yellow eye.

"That'll endear you to the locals."

"How much farther?" Cocoa asked. Though she was as entranced as her companions by the nocturnal beauty of the city, the scenery had done nothing to assuage the emptiness in her belly. It did not help that their guide was looking more and more like the tip of a furry brochette with ears.

"Just ahead," Smegden assured her, entirely innocent of her envisionings. "Around this block."

"What do all these enchanted folk do?" Oskar wondered. "Being enchanted, I wouldn't think there's all that much to occupy them."

"Oh, but there is," their diminutive guide informed him. "There are old spells to maintain and new ones to propound, transcendental interstices to be filled and otherworldly gates to be oiled. Interdimensional portals need regular upkeep lest shards of the discarnate flake off, and the dry cleaners hereabouts are kept busy around the clock. All that ephemera and evanescence can't be kept immaculate by charm alone, you know. Everyone here has a job."