Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

Tarrian carefully kept his reply from Antyr. but Kristabel gave a knowing nod. ‘I understand,’ she said.

‘Kristabel, behave yourself,’ Usche said through clenched teeth. ‘Antyr’s our guest.’

The felci gave her a long look, then dropped on to all fours. Following the wolves’ spectacular entrance, the group had become the focus of everyone in the room and a substantial crowd was now standing around them, awaiting developments. Usche sat down and motioned Antyr to do the same. As he did so the felci – to his considerable alarm – clambered on to his knee. After an elaborate and disconcerting adjustment of her position, she squatted on her haunches again and continued her study of him.

‘Antyr, eh? Strange names you creatures give yourselves. I thought maybe the pups had got it wrong, but there you are. I should have trusted them a little more, shouldn’t I?’ Kristabel’s voice was deeper and more resonant than might have been expected from such a comparatively small animal. It was also unusually powerful and, the creature being immediately in front of his face, indicated to Antyr that if he was indeed being made the butt of a joke it was an extremely well-made one. Was it, perhaps, someone giving him a benign demonstration of this Power that so dominated everything here? It seemed improbable; the creature, its mannerisms, its voice, were all very realistic. It did not help him, though, that he could clearly sense a faint suggestion of amusement behind the voice.

‘Kristabel!’ Usche hissed. ‘Stop that!’

As before, the felci ignored her and continued its study of Antyr. He found her bright-eyed, intelligent gaze disconcerting.

‘You are a strange one, aren’t you?’ she concluded eventually. Her tone was serious and intrigued and the faint touch of humour had gone. She curled her lip back and absently tapped one of her teeth with a forepaw. Antyr noticed that the teeth and the claw protruding from the paw both looked very powerful. Coupled with the musculature he could sense beneath the creature’s sleek fur he decided that this could be a frighteningly ferocious animal if need arose.

‘There are depths here. There’s something very old about you, young man. Very old. Well, well, how interesting.’ Humming tunelessly to herself she bent even closer, her eyes searching deep into his. Then they closed, the humming stopped, and she was sniffing at him, her nose twitching energetically.

Abruptly, she was conversational. ‘The pups tell me that you and they roam the dreamways. Tell me, how do you think you do that?’

‘Kristabel!’ Usche brought her determined face next to the felci’s. ‘I’m sure if Andawyr wants you to interrogate our guest, he’ll ask you.’

‘He’d be wise to, child,’ Kristabel replied. Antyr felt Usche stiffen at the word ‘child’. ‘He won’t make much of him if I’m not there, believe me.’ She gave a laugh that ended in a joyous whistle. ‘Poor Andy, he’s going to have real trouble finding this one in his calculations, I can tell you. I’ll make a point of speaking to him about it, otherwise he’s likely to be lost without trace.’

‘I’m sure he’ll be indebted.’

Kristabel looked at her, then clambered down from Antyr and on to Usche’s lap. She gave a low reproachful whistle and clicked her tongue. ‘Sarcasm really doesn’t become you, child.’

‘Don’t call me child,’ Usche muttered darkly. It was obviously not a new injunction, but even as she spoke it she was stroking the felci affectionately.

‘Sarcasm and such over-sensitivity. Not endearing traits in a young woman, Usche my dear. Don’t you agree, Dream Finder?’

Antyr found himself stammering again at being suddenly dragged into this private and very female exchange.

‘I think perhaps Usche is trying to be – is being – a good hostess. Helping me to adjust to the…’ He was about to say ‘strange’ but caught himself in time. ‘Unusual… things that are to be found in this place.’

Kristabel’s gaze returned to him. ‘Ah, a gallant. How refreshing.’ She looked round at the watching Cadwanwr significantly, before speaking to Antyr again. ‘You find me unusual?’ she asked.

In some desperation and aided by a prompt from Tarrian, Antyr opted for the truth.

‘Yes, to be honest, I do,’ he said. ‘I’ve never even heard of… felcis… before, still less seen or met one. In fact, I’ve never met an animal that could actually talk.’

‘Really?’ Kristabel said. ‘Well, your frankness does you credit, but I presume you mean you’ve never met anything other than human animals that talk your rather awkward and inadequate language.’ A paw indicated the still-watching group.

Antyr gave up. ‘I suppose so,’ he conceded.

Kristabel was reassuring. ‘Don’t fret, young man. I wouldn’t dream of reproaching you. You’re not alone, by any means. I’m afraid there’s many a dim creature out there that thinks its own kind are the totality of everything. And you, at least, can speak to the pups.’

Before Antyr could say anything, Kristabel had jumped down from Usche’s lap and was scratching vigorously. ‘Well, well. Must be off. Things to do. A delight to meet you, Antyr. Truly. We must talk. At length. You’re more interesting than you know. You could even be one of us. There’s a thought.’ Her voice became suddenly softer. ‘Dar-volci would have been so excited to see you. I wish he…’ She stopped and was silent for a moment. Then she was brisk again. ‘Still, he’ll be back when he’ll be back and fretting won’t make that any earlier, will it?’

To Antyr’s alarm, she stood on her hind legs immediately in front of Tarrian. His alarm, however, became surprise as the wolf lay down and rolled over submissively. Grayle did the same, flattening himself low and pushing his muzzle gently between the two of them.

‘And lovely to see you two again, pups,’ Kristabel said, tickling Tarrian’s stomach and making his back leg twitch. ‘You’ve grown into fine animals. And you’ve done well for yourselves finding this… Dream Finder – very well. I’ll tell everyone you’re back. And the Alphraan. They’ll be delighted. Splendid, splendid. We’ll sing soon.’ And she was gone, slipping between the legs of the crowd, whistling and laughing.

‘Pups?’ Antyr said to Tarrian and Grayle witheringly as the sound of Kristabel’s departing faded. ‘What was all that about?’

‘Later. It’s too complicated,’ Tarrian replied as he stood up and shook himself noisily. Antyr did not pursue the matter. He could feel something rising from the wolf that he had never known before. It carried too much of the animal’s deeper nature for him to be able to identify it, though it was unmistakably joyous in character. He knew that the two animals were sharing this with him deliberately and that they could say nothing more about what they were experiencing. He bent low and stroked both of them by way of acknowledgement.

‘Are you all right?’ It was Usche. As was invariably the case when he had touched near the wolves’ true self, the human voice sounded harsh and crude. For an instant he understood Kristabel’s remark about their language being both awkward and inadequate.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I was just talking to Tarrian and Grayle.’

Usche was brushing hairs from her robe. She stopped and looked first at him and then at the two wolves. ‘Well, I suppose if our felci surprised you by talking out loud, we’ll have to get used to your talking silently to your Companions,’ she said. ‘Although, I have to say, I think it’s the stranger of the two.’ Then she asked the question that Oslang had asked. ‘Could they speak to me like that?’

‘They could, but they won’t,’ Antyr said, anticipating Tarrian’s refusal. Usche’s brown eyes looked at him, disappointed.