Alan Foster - Kingdoms of Light

They followed the rodent's directions, trying not to hurry, fighting down their rising excitement. A few turns and twists past cases full of the inexplicable and on beyond the impossible—and there it was. After all they had endured, all they had survived, after the arduous crossing of multiple kingdoms of color, their goal gleamed brightly before them.

In an unremarkable room that was home to several dozen exhibits, there stood a tall cabinet of clear crystal containing nothing but glowing balls of color. All the colors were there, including many distinctive shades unfamiliar to the travelers. At the far end of the cabinet, almost as an afterthought, drifted a small globe of pure, unadulterated white light. Each of the diffuse, drifting orbs was clearly labeled as to its nature, pierced and fixed in place by a display rod that had been suitably ensorcelled.

Hopping from upcurled tail tip to head, Taj leaned forward between Mamakitty's ears and whispered, "The problem of how to transport the light is solved. We simply lift up the stick to which it is fastened, and bring both with us."

Mamakitty nodded, inadvertently forcing Taj to take to the air with a temporary fluttering of wings. "I wonder why the individual lights are not all tinted with purple. It's quite unlike anything we've encountered before on our journey, where every object and creature in a specific kingdom of color takes on the tint of that land."

"This is an enchanted museum run for the edification of enchanted folk," the canary pointed out. "What is the wonder in one more enchantment?"

"We have found what we came for," Mamakitty hissed softly, as much to herself as to her diminutive passenger. Beside her, Cocoa was staring silently at the cabinet of wonders. Even Cezer, confronted at last by the object of their quest, was subdued. Louder, she said, "We've taken up enough of your time, Smegden."

"Indeed you have," the mouse agreed readily. Once more the tiny paw indicated the way. "The quickest exit is back that direction, then down a ramp."

Mamakitty and Oskar exchanged a meaningful glance. "If you don't mind," Oskar responded, "there are so many wonderful things to see here. We'll just wander around for a while. We can always ask others the way out."

"That means a long run for me on these short legs, to get out of these endless corridors," Smegden groused, "but better, I suppose, than having to suffer any longer the abiding banalities of your clichйd conversation. If I hurry, I can still make the weekly hunt scheduled for this evening." He drew himself up to his full five-inch height. "Riding to cockroaches, you know." Effortlessly, he leaped down from Oskar's head. From the floor, he turned to confront the trio.

"I wish you a pleasant afternoon of edification, with the added hope that we may never meet again—at least until you have shed your provincial demeanor and developed some sophistication. Fare thee well, O bearers of a benign befuddlement." With that he spun round and, at high speed, scampered off down the corridor he had previously identified as leading to the quickest way out.

"What now?" wondered Cezer, reluctantly reconciled to pursuing their quest to its conclusion.

"We wait," Mamakitty whispered. "Mark this room well." When Oskar raised his right hind leg, she hastened to forestall him. "No, no—that's not what I meant, you idiot! Mentally, mentally! Use your human-augmented mind. At least, I think yours has been augmented."

"Sorry." Abashed, Oskar lowered his leg. "Old habits, you know."

She took a deep breath. "I believe the best time to make our attempt will be at eventide, when the daytime inhabitants of this kingdom begin to retire and before the awakening night dwellers arrive. That time of day should find this measureless structure at its most deserted. We will take the white light from its resting place and slip quietly out of the city. Having once passed that way, the return journey will be easier and less dangerous for us at night."

"You make it sound so easy," Cezer grumbled.

"Every one of those globes of light is pretty bright." Oskar kept his voice down lest he be overheard by a group of female faeries fluttering through the exhibition room. Stylish tiny purses dangled from their hands like pollen from the legs of bees. "If only we had some magical means of temporarily muting their glow."

Wings beating, Taj rose from between Mamakitty's ears. "No sooner said than done. I'll be right back with something I recall seeing several rooms away."

Risking the attention of other museumgoers, Oskar called out to the receding songster. "You saw suitable sorcery just lying around?"

"Not exactly." Taj called back to them just prior to banking a hard right. "It was a very nice paper bag."

And so it was. Retreating to a corner to examine the crumpled container without being observed, Oskar and Mamakitty determined that the sack would indeed fit snugly over the globe of white light. What effect the steady radiance would have on the opaque paper remained to be seen. Perhaps, Taj suggested, like so much else in this kingdom, the sack itself would be adequately enchanted for their purpose.

Feigning interest in every exhibit they passed, no matter how boring, they wandered through the labyrinthine structure, pausing occasionally to discuss this sculpture or that artifact with mock erudition. As the daylight began to ebb, so did the increasingly scanty crowd, until the corridors that sparkled with crushed gemstone spackle no longer echoed to the chatter of elves, the giggling of pixies, or the appreciative grunts of aesthetically discriminating goblins.

Taking a roundabout route, they worked their way back to the room that contained the samples of illumination from other kingdoms. Throughout the museum complex, faerie light was winking to life. As might be expected, it was soft and diffuse so as not to hurt the eyes of the nocturnal visitors, who had not yet begun to arrive in any numbers worth worrying about. As Cezer trotted out to the nearest main corridor to keep watch, and Samm spread himself the length of the room's entrance to trip up any unobserved arrivals, the others considered how best to go about expropriating the precious globe of whiteness.

"Back here." From behind the cabinet, Oskar's voice was an urgent whisper. "There's a latch."

It was a very simple, straightforward latch, quite uncomplicated and devoid of charm. There was no reason for anything more elaborate, they decided. Who would want to steal light? What possible use could anyone abiding in the Kingdom of Purple have for nonpurple numinous luminosity? Lifting the latch with his nose, Oskar put his shoulder against the edge of the compartment's rear door. With Mamakitty and Cocoa's help, he was able to push it aside. Lamenting the dearth of hands, but determined as ever, he cocked his head sideways and reached in to seize with his strong jaws the pole that pierced and supported the pure white globe. When he lifted the rod carefully out of its slot, the crystal display case caught the moving light and scattered small rainbows about the room as casually as a rich man casting alms to the poor.

"Look at the colors!" Beneath calico fur, Cocoa's chest swelled elatedly. "It really is white light, and it really does contain within it all the colors of the rainbow!" She retraced her steps as Oskar backed carefully out of the case. "It's everything we've come for. We'll take it back to the Gowdlands and turn it over to the wizards who still roam free. They'll know what to do with it, how to use it to break the curse of the Khaxan Mundurucu."

"I don't think so," an all-too-familiar voice declared.

Oskar spun around on his hind legs so fast he almost dropped the rod and the shining sphere it transfixed. Beside him, Mamakitty let out a furious hiss and Cocoa dropped into a fighting stance, ears flared back and teeth bared. He considered making a mad dash for the exit, only to see that that route, too, was blocked. The axe-wielding trolls who stood there might be slow of foot, but they would only have to hit him once to end forever any hopes of returning to the Fasna Wyzel—or any other part of the land of the living. One stood with a foot on Samm's neck, its sharp axe poised over the serpent's skull. Samm hissed in frustration, wishing for the great stone adze he had been forced to leave behind in the culvert at the edge of the city—and for hands to swing it with.