Alan Foster - Kingdoms of Light

"Even you and your squeaky friends?" Taj asked from above.

"Especially me and my friends." Smegden strained to see over and through Cezer's miniature mane. "For one thing, spells alone aren't very effective against bugs. Even at their most cultivated, cockroaches are never enchanting. Tasty, though."

Oskar wrinkled his whiskers. "No, thanks. I'll take a bowl of nice, fresh carrion any day."

"You won't have to." The mouse gestured. "There's the Commons, just ahead."

Oskar had thought the vast forest of Fasna Wyzel the most beautiful place he had ever seen, and not just because it was his home. But the Grand Commons of the Kingdom of Purple surpassed in every way the ancient woods through which he had roamed as both pup and adult.

An implausible diversity of trees shimmered before them—not in the moonlight that was rising, but by their own internal lights. Though every tree-glow and leaf-light was a variation on the all-pervasive purple, they nonetheless managed to give the impression of being kissed here with gold, there with silver, and elsewhere with a multiplicity of shades the travelers had not seen gathered together in one place since they had left their home and fallen into the rainbow.

Within the trees played the nocturnal animals of the kingdom. No enchanted folk here; only possums and sugar gliders, bats and big-eared lemurs, a variety of snakes and frogs, and all manner of night-loving creatures.

Their guide directed them to an eccentric hardwood with three conjoined trunks. In addition to enormous flaring flowers, it bore on its branches long, thin, tubular fruit. Piles of this lay on the ground, tempting the travelers. Hopping down from Cezer's neck, Smegden implored them to restrain their hunger for one more moment.

"Don't eat that stuff. It's last week's droppings. Let me get you some fresh." Turning and craning his neck, he called up into the tree. For so small a voice, it carried surprisingly far.

A couple of sleepy squirrels appeared. Though roused from their hollow, they grudgingly complied with Smegden's request. Apparently, the mouse was a person of local importance out of all proportion to his size. Oskar remembered how quickly a host of the rodent's comrades had hopped to his aid.

Working rapidly and efficiently, the two squirrels chewed through the stems that secured several mature fruits to the branches of three adjoining trees. These plunged to the neatly manicured grass below and bounced a couple of times before stopping. Hopping over to the nearest, Smegden took a bite out of one end and chewed reflectively, a minuscule gourmet sampling the latest product of an entirely natural kitchen.

"Not bad tonight." He gestured at Cezer. "Have a taste."

The cat was reluctant. "Rodents are like dogs; they'll eat anything."

"Hey!" Oskar protested.

The swordsman-cat ignored him. "It doesn't look very appetizing. It looks like a vegetable. I hate vegetables."

"I'll make you a deal." A confident Smegden helped himself to another bite and continued speaking with his mouth full. "If you don't like it, you can take a bite out of me."

"Now that's a proposition I can wholeheartedly embrace." Padding forward, Cezer put one paw on the fallen fruit to steady it and bit down tentatively with his strong jaws. As his friends looked on expectantly, he chewed a moment, then swallowed. When he looked back at them, he was smiling as broadly as his cat face would allow.

"Tastes like chicken!" he chortled delightedly, and dove without hesitation back into the elongated pod.

Soon they were all gorging themselves, quest and questions temporarily set aside as they wallowed in the unexpected flavors of the miraculous fruit. The one Cezer handily devoured without assistance did indeed taste like chicken. So did several of the other fruits from the same tree. But those from its neighbor possessed the flavor of fresh beef, while the fruit of the third had a distinctive whiff of fresh fish. By the time they decided they had had enough, not one among them retained a flat belly—Samm being the most prominently engorged of all. Though he had fought to restrain himself, it was in the nature of serpents to eat until they could hardly slither. As for the decidedly uncarnivorous Taj, he had ignored the meat-flavored fruit in favor of the many seeds readily available in the surrounding grass.

Thus most excellently stuffed, they left it to Oskar to consider what they should do next. "We must take some seeds of these trees home with us," he declared, following a resonant canine belch, "and plant them in the yard of Master Evyndd's house. But that's for later. For now, for tonight, where can we sleep?"

Smegden gestured expansively—or as expansively as his diminutive arms would allow. "Why not spend the night here, in the Grand Commons? It's what many animal folk do." Turning, he indicated the lacy towers and spiraling buildings nearby. "Though seemingly capacious, many of these structures are honeycombed with small rooms and chambers fit only for enchanted folk—and sometimes the likes of me. You lot would not be comfortable, squeezing your way through narrow corridors while enveloped in thick odors most strange and peculiar." He trotted away from the base of the fresh fish tree.

"Here you can stretch out and be comfortable. There is plenty of room, the climate is ever amenable, and there is lots to eat. Your fellow animal folk will not bother you." His tiny face wrinkled up in a grimace at the memory of an unpleasant smell. "Who wants to sleep in a troll tenement, anyway?"

Cocoa eyed the florid paths, paved with flat-faceted purple gems. Overhead, a wry and tasteful assortment of branches scattered the stars while the energetic chatter of tree-dwelling animal folk began to fade with the deepening of night. The temperature had not changed since they had arrived on the beach outside the city wall. It all seemed so benign, so accommodating, that it made her nervous. She told their guide as much.

"Oh, piffle!" Putting tiny hands on bulging hips, Smegden let out a squeak of a sigh. "Very well, then. I'll stay one night with you." He did not try to hide his irritation. "Will that put you at ease?"

"Substantially," a relieved Cocoa agreed. Though he had said nothing, she could see that Cezer was silently pleased with the mouse's offer. Nor did any of her other companions offer an objection to their guide's continued presence among them.

It was something to see Smegden curl up, utterly unafraid, next to the coiled bulk of Samm, a traditional predator. But the powerful constrictor was stuffed like a striped sausage with pounds of meatfruit and was already asleep, digesting silently. Given the quantity of food the serpent had just ingested, Oskar was grateful that snakes did not snore. Choosing a suitable tree, he paced half a dozen circles before settling down at its base, nose to tail. Cezer went off a little by himself, as did Cocoa, while Taj sought a suitably cozy branch on which to spend the night.

Mamakitty settled herself down next to the disheveled dog who was their nominal leader. Oskar tried to ignore her unblinking gaze, but one might as well hope to slip-slide into another dimension as avoid the stare of a determined cat.

"All right." He yawned, suddenly aware of how tired he really was. "What is it now, Miss Worry-whiskers?"

"This Kingdom of Purple is a beautiful and benign place."

"And that upsets you?" Dog or no, he could still raise a querulous eyebrow. Given the amount of gray fur attached to the flap of flesh in question, it was a gesture of some substance.

"No. If we're ever going to find the white light that we need to take back with us, this certainly does seem like the place—just as we were told long ago by that otherwise disagreeable Captain Covalt."

"Then what's your problem?" He yawned impressively, the yawn passing as a quiver down the entire length of his body to finally conclude with a twitch of his short tail.