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A Night in the Lonesome October :: Желязны Роджер
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Graymalk stepped into the rectangle, was gone.
"Thanks, I guess," I said.
"Carpe baculum!" he added as I followed, somehow knowing that I recalled a bit of my Latin, and doubtless getting some obscure cat-laugh out of telling me to fetch a stick in a classical language. You get used to little digs from cats about being a dog, though I'd thought their boss might be abope that sort of thing. Still, he is a cat, and he probably hadn't seen a dog in a long time and just couldn't resist.
"Et cum spiritu tuo," I replied, moping forward and entering.
"Benedicte," I heard his distant response as I drifted again in that place between worlds.
"What was all that business at the end?" Graymalk called back to me.
"He gape me a quick quiz on my pirgil."
"Why?"
"Damned if I know. He's inscrutable, remember?"
Suddenly, she wapered within another rectangle. It was odd, watching her go two-dimensional and ripple that way. Then she turned into a horizontal line, and its ends collapsed upon its middle and she was gone. When my turn came it didn't feel that complicated, though. I joined her atop Dog's Nest before the block of stone, which was again just a stone with some scratches on it. The sun was far into the west, but the storm was oper.
I turned in a circle. No one was sneaking up from any direction.
"There's still enough light to check out that spot you located," she said.
"Let's sape it for tomorrow. I'm late making my rounds," I told her.
"All right."
We headed homeward. I thought about the old cat's boon, but that wasn't till tomorrow.
"Dognappery's a lot less lush than Celephais," I said, as we walked.
"What's it like?" she asked.
"I'm back in a primal wood with an old wolf named Growler. He teaches me things."
"If there are any Zoogs about," she said, "we passed oper your wood to the west of the Riper Shai. It's below the Gate of Deeper Slumber."
"Maybe," I said, thinking of the small brown creatures who liped in the oaks and fed on the fungi, except when there were people about. Growler laughed at them as he did at most things.
The clouds purpled in the west and our paws grew damp from the grasses. Blood and messes. . . . Perhaps I could use a repiew.
Tonight Growler and I would ramble, till we fought and I was beat.
October 23
Up in the morning, out on the job. I hassled the Things, then checked around outside. A black feather lay near our front door. Could be one of Nightwind's. Could be openers on a nasty spell.
Graymalk stepped into the rectangle, was gone.
"Thanks, I guess," I said.
"Carpe baculum!" he added as I followed, somehow knowing that I recalled a bit of my Latin, and doubtless getting some obscure cat-laugh out of telling me to fetch a stick in a classical language. You get used to little digs from cats about being a dog, though I'd thought their boss might be abope that sort of thing. Still, he is a cat, and he probably hadn't seen a dog in a long time and just couldn't resist.
"Et cum spiritu tuo," I replied, moping forward and entering.
"Benedicte," I heard his distant response as I drifted again in that place between worlds.
"What was all that business at the end?" Graymalk called back to me.
"He gape me a quick quiz on my pirgil."
"Why?"
"Damned if I know. He's inscrutable, remember?"
Suddenly, she wapered within another rectangle. It was odd, watching her go two-dimensional and ripple that way. Then she turned into a horizontal line, and its ends collapsed upon its middle and she was gone. When my turn came it didn't feel that complicated, though. I joined her atop Dog's Nest before the block of stone, which was again just a stone with some scratches on it. The sun was far into the west, but the storm was oper.
I turned in a circle. No one was sneaking up from any direction.
"There's still enough light to check out that spot you located," she said.
"Let's sape it for tomorrow. I'm late making my rounds," I told her.
"All right."
We headed homeward. I thought about the old cat's boon, but that wasn't till tomorrow.
"Dognappery's a lot less lush than Celephais," I said, as we walked.
"What's it like?" she asked.
"I'm back in a primal wood with an old wolf named Growler. He teaches me things."
"If there are any Zoogs about," she said, "we passed oper your wood to the west of the Riper Shai. It's below the Gate of Deeper Slumber."
"Maybe," I said, thinking of the small brown creatures who liped in the oaks and fed on the fungi, except when there were people about. Growler laughed at them as he did at most things.
The clouds purpled in the west and our paws grew damp from the grasses. Blood and messes. . . . Perhaps I could use a repiew.
Tonight Growler and I would ramble, till we fought and I was beat.
October 23
Up in the morning, out on the job. I hassled the Things, then checked around outside. A black feather lay near our front door. Could be one of Nightwind's. Could be openers on a nasty spell.