ELEVEN

One by one, they approached the narrow opening Taj had accidentally discovered and peered through the gate. Though only a small gap, it was enough to permit them to see clearly within. The panorama that greeted their anxious, impatient gazes was sufficient to banish any fears.

The light within the Kingdom of Yellow was almost normal. Not to the point of allowing other colors to exist, but close enough to what they remembered from home so the travelers felt more comfortable with what they were seeing than at any time since they had entered the rainbow. It was a pleasant, comforting light that imparted a warm glow to everything it touched upon—this although the sky was noticeably overcast, to the point where the visitors cast no shadows upon the yellowish ground.

There was no guard post, no barracks full of angry gatekeepers waiting to challenge those with the temerity to simply walk in. Instead, fields of waving wheatlike grass stretched to the distant horizon, interrupted only by isolated thickets of slender, buttery-yellow trees that rose from the flavescent savanna like stiff whiskers on a cat's face. There was just enough of a breeze to moderate the temperature, which itself was far from unpleasant. The air had a bracing freshness to it that had been lacking in the torpid kingdoms of Red and Orange, and was suffused with a faint perfume Oskar could not identify.

They could not see the color of the sky, hidden as it was by the yellowish gray overcast. The occasional stronger breeze whistling in their ears, they stepped cautiously through the gap and into the kingdom. Having been the one to open the door, Taj thoughtfully closed it behind him. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was once again a delightful yellow.

Stretching his arms high and wide, Cezer inhaled deeply of the pure, delicious air. "What a wonderful place! If we weren't in such a hurry, I'd lie down right here and now and have a nap."

"Have you forgotten that Nugwot and his followers may still be on our trail?" Cocoa reminded him. "Not to mention Quoll and his bloodsucking pair of retainers."

"With any luck, by now Quoll and the others should be thoroughly marigolded. As for Nugwot and his happy-sappy sycophants, even if they are uncompromising enough to continue their pursuit, I don't think they're likely to give us any trouble for a long time, if ever." Shyly, Taj stepped aside to reveal the single large, iron bolt he had thrown. The enormous gate was now locked securely behind them.

"Good for you, featherhead!" Strolling over, Cezer clapped the smaller man hard enough across the shoulders to bruise the skin, following which substantial gesture of affection he yawned and began to inspect the ground. "Now, who else is for that nap?"

"We can't just curl up and go to sleep in the middle of the day," Mamakitty admonished him firmly. "Cats do that. Not people on a mission."

"Grouchy old sardine-head," Cezer muttered.

Deep yellow-green eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"

The swordsman sighed resignedly. "That when night arrives I'll be ready to crouch on my bed. Which way?" Being human, he mused, was far from being all wonderment and delight.

Oskar considered the height of the sun and the balance of the fine day that remained to them. "East, my friend. Always east, until we come to the place where the white light is to be found."

"If there is such a place," Cezer grumbled as he fell into line.

In truth, as the day wore on, Oskar found it harder and harder to keep from seconding Cezer's sleepy-time suggestion. The air, the temperature, the occasional gentle warm breeze, the soft saffron-stained herbage underfoot, combined to induce within him a growing lassitude he had not allowed himself to feel for many days. The thought of lying down and drifting off, of letting himself be lifted gently into the arms of blissful midday sleep, was something he had to fight against with every step.

Where would be the harm? he told himself. With the great gate fastened behind them, their rear was secure. No pursuit, no matter how determined or fanatical, could reach them from the Kingdom of Orange. In all the time they had been traipsing across the golden savanna, no threat had manifested itself. If not an entirely benign land, this Kingdom of Yellow was surely bound to be more obliging than the two they had already traversed.

Unable at last to stand it any longer, with the lure of a nap threatening to drag him bodily down to the inviting earth, he put the proposal before Mamakitty a second time. Perhaps the long walk, he thought, had made her more amenable. Her response surprised him.

"You're our leader, Oskar. If you think this is an appropriate time and place for a nap, then you need to say so."

A quick glance at the rest of his companions was enough to give him the answer he sought. "A rest will do us good. Be a refreshing change. Who knows when we'll have the opportunity again?" He indicated a nearby pond, from which sprouted lemon-tinted reeds with hollow stems that whistled lullabies in the gentle wind. "This place is perfect. We'll set a watch," he concluded.

That was sufficient to satisfy the always wary Mamakitty, who, truth be told, had herself gazed longingly at every potentially soft spot on the ground ever since they had left the great wall behind. With Cocoa volunteering to take the first watch, she curled up against a pile of cushiony fungi and was almost instantly asleep. She was followed by the others, with not one of them having yet bothered to wonder why so seemingly benevolent a country needed so colossal a defensive fortification.

Later, having been wakened from several hours of perfect somnolence, a much refreshed Oskar had been on watch for less than twenty minutes when he detected movement in the tawny grass. No ordinary human would have noticed the slight stirring, but like his companions in trek, Oskar possessed senses far more sensitive than those of his former masters.

He did not draw his sword. Neither did he wake his friends. The stirring bespoke no immediate threat. A wandering animal, perhaps, passing through or simply curious. They had seen precious little wildlife since leaving the Kingdom of Orange. He concentrated on the area of the movement without staring in its direction, ready to pounce or leap aside should the situation require a rapid reaction.

It did not, though some sort of calculated response was surely in order. As the sun finally began to emerge from behindthe cloud cover, a line of little people emerged from the high sedge and came toward him. Unlike their former guide Wiliam or the other inhabitants of the Kingdom of Orange, these folk were perfectly proportioned and no hairier than an ordinary human. None stood taller than the dog-man's waist. Had he been standing on all fours, they would have found themselves eye to eye. Men and women walked together, side by side. They were smartly but not lavishly attired. Each carried an unusually large fan or shield fashioned from some woven, yellowish beige plant material. As the setting sun peeked out from beneath the dissipating clouds, these were raised into place to shield them completely from evening rays. So precisely and uniformly did they perform this maneuver that Oskar was reminded of the time he had seen a troop of passing soldiers present their swords in salute to Master Evyndd.

While the body of the line halted, the diminutive woman in the lead continued to advance. Imbued now as he was with human feelings and desires, Oskar decided that she was attractive enough, though mating was not at the forefront of his thoughts. Instead, he found himself focusing on the jeweled knife she wore at her waist. The blade was longer than her short, woven skirt, the tip reaching nearly to her knee. Her companions carried similar finely wrought weapons, though none were drawn. Still, the potential for danger was there.

With a shout, he woke his slumbering companions.

Halting a short distance away as they rose to their feet, she studied the tall strangers. Her gaze lingered slightly longer, as did those of her fellows, on the massive bulk of Samm hovering silently at the rear of the group. When she finally spoke, her words were directed at the nearest traveler, who happened to be Oskar.

"Some of our youths hunting near the great gate saw you enter. As soon as the village was informed of your coming, we organized this welcoming party." With a supple sweep of one arm she indicated the cortege behind her. "We do not recognize your origin. You are obviously not citizens of the Kingdom of Orange, nor of Green." Leaning to one side, she peered behind Oskar, where there was nothing but weak evening shadow. "Where do you come from? I, the Princess Ourie, entreat the favor of a reply."

Oskar found he was getting used to answering this apparently inevitable question. He proceeded to provide as reasonable an explanation for their presence as he could. While he did so, Taj leaned close to whisper to Cocoa.

"I don't think we have anything to fear from these folk. Not only are they very much smaller than us, from the way their heads keep twisting around and their eyes keep darting constantly from place to place, they look like they're afraid of their own shadows."

The little woman spoke again. "So your intention is notto linger among us, but to move on as swiftly as possible to the Kingdom of Green?"

"That's right," Oskar replied. "Any help or guidance you can give us will be much appreciated."

"Guidance? Help?" She looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. "To reach our neighboring Kingdom of Green you must cross the Great Rift. None among us dare try it, but we will not stop you. There is no way around the Rift, and no safe passage through it, though as strangers of unknown origin and powers you may have more success than we." She eyed him thoughtfully, her voice unchanging. "Most probably, you will die."

"That's what I like to hear every time we arrive somewhere new," Cezer remarked dryly. "Encouragement."

"This rift." Mamakitty moved up to stand alongside Oskar.

"Is it a wide canyon, or just a gully with steep sides? There are good climbers among us."

"It is not a question of climbing, but of avoiding the danger that lurks within," the wee royalty informed her. "And as you must know, for you all seem to be of at least moderate intelligence, that which is always with one can never be avoided."

"Petite, beautiful, and vague." Sensing extended conversation, Cezer had assumed a cross-legged sitting position on the invitingly warm ground. There was now enough sunlight for his shadow to join him. "Not how I like my females."

"I wouldn't concern myself about it," observed Cocoa pointedly. "She doesn't exactly seem to be clamoring for your attentions."

"How could you be so sure we were strangers here?" Mamakitty eyed the princess curiously. "Mightn't we have come from some far distant part of the Kingdom of Yellow?"

The highborn shook her head firmly. "Your foreign origins are immediately apparent. Not only are you not Slevish"—she indicated the patiently waiting retinue strung out behind her—"but you carry among you not a single kwavin with which to protect yourselves."

"I guess we don't," confessed Oskar. "Just to satisfy my curiosity, what's a kwavin?"

Her responsive, dewy-eyed gaze was moist with compassion. "That you have no thought or notion of the most vital piece of Slevish attire surely proves your ignorance of this land. It is fortunate for you that you arrived on such a cloudy day." Her gaze swept past him to encompass his waiting, watching companions. "You must come with us, quickly, so that we can make kwavins for you all. Without them you will not live long in this country." She gestured in the direction of the now distant great wall. "Those who arrive kwavinless invariably perish before we can help them." With an air of majesty swirling about her that was most impressive for her size, she turned and moved to rejoin her retinue.

Cezer rose to join Oskar and Mamakitty. There was a twinkle in his eye. "Pretty little thing. I wouldn't mind chasing her tail—if she had one. What was that all about?"

Oskar scratched absently at his left ear. "It seems we're all in great danger unless we allow them to provide us with something called a kwavin." He glanced upward. "Apparently it has something to do with the sky. Whatever the danger she was referring to, the clouds protected us from it."

The swordsman sniffed. "Cats don't get sunburned, if that's what she's talking about. But if they want to give us some kind of talisman or charm for free, that's fine with me. What's a kwavin?"

"I don't know. I asked, but she never got around to telling me. She's very nice, but her manner is a little on the imperious side."

"Well, ssst, as long as this kwavin thing doesn't require any tiresome contribution on our part. Something like body modification, say, or the payment of some outrageous fee." Reaching up, he felt of the small notch in his right ear. Mamakitty had taken it out of him when, as a kitten, he was even more generally obnoxious than he was now.

"Until we know what a kwavin is, there's no point in assuming the worst." Squinting toward the setting sun, Mamakitty set off in the wake of the princess. For an instant, something seemed to hold her back, but it soon dropped away. Rested and relaxed, her friends followed.

When they turned to retrace their steps, the line of marchers swiftly and as precisely as a coordinated dance team shifted the elaborately decorated sunshades they carried from their left sides to the right, to ward off the last rays of the setting sun. Oskar found his curiosity piqued by the unexpectedly energetic move. Were the Slevish demonstrating their martial efficiency, utilizing shades in place of pikes? Did the balletic gesture have some unknown religious significance? Were they trying to impress the bigger strangers with an unspoken ability to coordinate their actions? Or, bearing in mind Cezer's earlier comment, was their skin simply excessively sensitive to the effects of direct sunlight?

Though certainly a possibility, the latter seemed unlikely. While decidedly pale, the Slevish were not albinos. Even with the lemony cast the ambient light conferred upon everything it touched, he could tell that the flesh of the little folk was not particularly white. Nor did the cloud-muted light that had bathed him and his friends ever since they had entered the Kingdom of Yellow feel in any way unnatural. On the contrary, it was as warm and pleasant as the land it nourished. No, the plethora of carefully deployed sunshades must serve some other, ceremonial purpose beyond simply shielding their holders from ordinary daylight. He would put the question to Princess Ourie when next the opportunity presented itself.

If the much smaller Slevish were intimidated by their visitors, they showed no sign of it—though Oskar caught one or two glancing uncertainly in Samm's direction. The snake-man was so very much larger, they could not help but consider his presence. As the long column crossed several thickly vegetated hills, he noted with approval that even in the company of their new hosts, progress continued to be made eastward. They were sacrificing no time by accompanying the Slevish.

The community situated on the shore of a vast, yellow-tinged lake was more a large village than a small town. Despite the presence of hundreds of dwellings, there was no central square and no structure higher than two stories. Perfectly formed Slevish children, active and bright-eyed as a wizard's toys, congregated in batches to gawk at the towering strangers. They clustered around Oskar and Mamakitty, Cocoa and Cezer and Taj, but shied uneasily away from the perambulating man-mountain that was Samm. Though it was in no wise his fault, he could not entirely escape certain intangible characteristics of his original shape.

Ourie led them through the village and down to the lakeshore. Dozens of willowy, low-slung outriggers rested on the yellow-white sand like beached scarecrows. Fishing nets hung on drying poles, oddly aligned with the setting sun instead of spread against it to take maximum advantage of its drying rays. A few children ran along the beach, laughing and playing, while adults sat and worked at cleaning fish, salamanders, and frogs, or mending nets, or repairing boats. All those not seated in the shade, Oskar noted with bemused interest, carried the by now familiar woven shades to shield them from the sun. Clearly no one went outside, even for a short stroll, without one of the omnipresent shades.

What was it with these otherwise perfectly healthy-looking people that forced them to so assiduously hide from the sun's seemingly beneficent rays? He really must ask the princess the first chance he got, Oskar decided.

That the matter of constant shading involved only sunshine was confirmed when it finally set. When the last direct rays had faded, people immediately began to emerge from the cover of their shelters, and to put down the woven shades they had been carrying. A palpable sense of relief rippled through the community. Cezer, Cocoa, and the others took only casual notice of the change. Only Oskar and Mamakitty, with whom he had been discussing the curious business, wondered at the abrupt transformation.

Ourie beckoned for them to join her, and they soon found themselves seated by the shore of the vast lake. Women of the Slevish, each one more petite and attractive than the next, were seated on the sand or on benches weaving a number of the intricate sunshades that were obviously a vital component of village life. The princess introduced the visitors to these skilled weavers. Those singled out by the greeting smiled ingratiatingly at their guests while practiced fingers flew without pause, effortlessly braiding fronds and leaves into oversize, lightweight sunscreens. So large were the particular examples they were working on that when finished, they would be big enough to shield Oskar or any of his friends from the effects of the sun. Near the back, four women were working together on a most monstrous shade indeed, which Oskar suspected could only be intended for Samm. Interestingly, they worked on into the gathering darkness without benefit of torch or firelight. Drawn in spite of themselves, Cezer and Cocoa sat and began playing with the ends of the bobbing, fluttering fronds.

"Let me guess," Oskar ventured to their royal hostess. "A kwavin is one of these sunshades."

She nodded briskly. "These we make as gifts to you. It is part of our birthright not to allow the ignorant to perish from their ignorance."

"That's kind of them, but not exactly flattering," Taj whispered to Samm.

Stepping forward, Cezer admired both the skilled handiwork and the delicate features of the Slevish women. "I don't want to insult them by refusing a gift, but I happen to enjoy walking in the sunshine. The weather here is delightful, and I'd just as soon not have to bother with lugging around a shade, or kwavin, or whatever."

"But you must!" Princess Ourie turned limpid eyes on the charmed cat-man. Gazing into them, he was reminded of a snapper whose head he had once consumed with great relish. "Without kwavins, you will die even before you reach the Great Rift. Do you not remember what I said about being unable to escape that which you carry within yourselves?"

Cezer responded with a gesture that, had the princess understood its meaning, might have offended her. "I'm not romping through beautiful country in perfect weather carrying around some stupid sunscreen. If the rest of you want to be polite and do so, that's your business." He walked down to the water's edge and found a comfortable patch of sand on which to flop. A sliver of silver-yellow moon was rising in the distance, painting the image of a molten staircase on the rippling waters.

Kneeling beside the princess to bring his face closer to hers, Oskar murmured politely. "Please excuse my friend. He's somewhat headstrong. It's his nature, and he can't help himself. Tell me; what danger do we face that lies within ourselves, and in the depths of this great rift, that requires us to carry sunscreens with us wherever we go? I confess I don't understand."

"Nor do any of us," added Mamakitty from nearby.

Oskar's contriteness melted a little of the anger Cezer's intemperate words had engendered in the princess. "Come in the morning and you will see." She nodded in Cezer's direction, where the cat-man was lying contentedly on the warm sand. "Your friend will show you."

Not even Taj, who was the smallest of the visitors, could fit comfortably within one of the numerous huts, but the travelers did not suffer from their lack of shelter. Night proved as benign as day in this marvelous country, and they slept content and confident by the shore of the lake. Samm in particular luxuriated in near-familiar surroundings, digging in until his body was completely covered by the warm sand. Within the village, all seemed equally peaceful and happy. Nary a child cried, and those natives who worked through the night were careful to keep their conversations to a whisper so as not to disturb their neighbors.

It was difficult, Oskar reflected as he lay down among his companions, to envision what danger could so unsettle the princess and her apparently contented people. That they dealt daily with whatever it was he had no doubt. That it was serious in nature he also conceded. He simply could not imagine what it was. If it was as deadly dangerous as Ourie insisted, it seemed unlikely it could be deflected by something as simple as a woven sunscreen. Try as he might, he could not resolve the apparent contradictions.

His head beginning to throb from the effort of trying to envision the unimaginable, he put everything aside in favor of getting some serious rest. In his former body, sleeping was something he had always been good at.

He felt soft skin brush up against his shoulder as a limber shape sat down next to him. Cocoa tried to sit back on her haunches, only to discover, as always, that in her present form she was in possession of too much leg and not enough haunch. She settled for stretching the former out in front of her. Despite the time she had already spent in human form, she found the position unnatural. Afraid of sitting on her tail, she was constantly shifting her seat, even though there was no longer a long, multicolored tail to sit on.

"You know, Oskar, I always liked you. I realize that cats and dogs aren't supposed to get along, but I always admired the way you carried yourself through life."

"Really?" He continued to gaze out across the lake. Meeting a cat's eyes was always dangerous. "How was that?"

"Indifferently, I mean," she hastened to add, "nothing ever seemed to trouble you."

He shrugged, his head resting on his crossed forepaws (hands, he reminded himself angrily—hands!). "As long as I got a table scrap or two, and the occasional bone, I was happy." Now he did turn to face her. In the silver-yellow moonlight, she was as graceful as she had ever been. "I always felt that cats think too much."

Her expression was contemplative. "Maybe you're right," she eventually replied. "Though I never thought of it that way."

"Don't stare at things so long," he suggested helpfully. "And don't worry about your appearance so much. You'll find life is easier to take."

She considered this advice. "I don't know if I can do that. Cats are just—serious. Dogs are—"

A voice interrupted them from behind. "Goofy," Cezer concluded, before rolling over and turning his back to them. Oskar had the feeling the swordsman would have sprayed them then and there, had not his plumbing undergone a preemptive sea change.

"Mister Sarcasm," Cocoa muttered. Her smile returning, she lunged forward and rubbed her nose against a startled Oskar's, then rose and moved off to join Mamakitty. "See you in the morning."

Reaching up, he slowly wiped the tip of his nose with the palm of one hand. Cats, he mused. Who could comprehend them? Their actions and antics had often bemused even Master Evyndd.

All the more reason, he told himself, why he should not try to.

Dawn saw the breaking of a cloudless morning. As Oskar awoke, it was to the bustle of tremendous activity within the village. It was almost as if the inhabitants were striving to accomplish as many of the day's tasks as possible before the sun was fully up. Sure enough, the instant its rays began to cast the first shadows within the community, activity slowed and did not resume until the Slevish had picked up their thickly woven sunscreens.

With appropriate ceremony, the special kwavins that had been finished during the night were presented to the bemused travelers. Oskar and his companions were politely thankful for the gifts, Cezer included. Mamakitty and Cocoa had promised to scratch him severely if he did not respond in a courteous manner. Hiding his disdain, he smiled fatuously while accepting his own screen from two of the little women who had produced it.

"Remember to beware," Princess Ourie warned them, "if you truly intend to try and cross the Great Rift. That which dwells within you also dwells within it." She indicated the kwavin he was balancing on his shoulder. "Keep always the sun off your selves."

"We'll be careful." Though he spoke with assurance, Oskar had not the slightest idea what she was talking about.

Those villagers not presently engaged in purposeful work had assembled to see the strangers on their way. Some smiled, a few wore expressions of concern, and many waved. But only with one hand, for the others were occupied in holding tight to the ingeniously decorated shades that now were everywhere in evidence, shielding them from the rising morning sun.

Admiring the deft pattern that had been woven into it, Oskar toted his own screen effortlessly, balancing it on his left shoulder as he led the way out of the village. Against their own judgment, Princess Ourie's advisers had drawn the foolhardy travelers a map showing the easiest route to the Kingdom of Green. This help notwithstanding, they would still have to find a way safely across the Great Rift.

He could hear Mamakitty and Cocoa chatting behind him. Cezer and Samm discussed what they were likely to find in the next kingdom while Taj happily inspected each new plant or creature they encountered. The songster had developed an inexplicable interest in biology.

As soon as they were out of sight of the village, Cezer promptly tossed his shade into the nearest bush. Mamakitty eyed him disapprovingly. "Useful or not, that was a gift."

"Fssst, a useless one." Spreading his arms wide, the swordsman danced a small circle, soaking up the rays of the early morning sun. "Look at me—I'm dying of sunstroke!" He lowered his arms. "You lug the ridiculous-looking things around if you want to. I've got better things to do with my hands." Cocoa immediately moved to the other side of Mamakitty.

As the morning wore on, Cezer suffered no apparent ill effects from traveling without one of the Slevish's skillfully woven kwavins. Nor did any harm befall him all the rest of that day or night and on into the following morning. Oskar was beginning to wonder if the undefined danger of which Ourie had spoken so sincerely was a threat only to the Slevish and the other permanent denizens of this land. At that very thought, a sharp yelp from the cat-man caused him to halt and whirl.

Cezer was lying off to the side of the trail they had been following, writhing and convulsing in the pale yellow grass. A dark rope was wrapped around his neck. His teeth were clenched and his expression distorted. So tight was the black stripe around his throat that he could not even utter a curse.

Being the closest to him, Oskar and Taj arrived simultaneously at his side, only to see that the sooty material clamped around his neck was not a rope but a shadowy arm. This was attached, a stunned Oskar saw, to a shadowy shoulder, which in turn emerged from a shadowy torso topped by a shadowy face utterly devoid of expression, as well as anything with which to give birth to an expression. Cezer was caught in the murderous, unyielding grasp not of a shadowy form, but of a shadow itself.

His shadow.

"Look out!" The two men barely had time to jump aside as Samm arrived. The head of his immense axe preceded him by a second or two, descending in a violent arc that caused the entrapped Cezer's eyes to bulge wider than ever. As the axe head slammed into the earth with a muffled boom, a slight shudder passed through the shadow-shape, as if it were a ripple of pond water racing away from a cast stone. Quickly regaining its discrete outline and former strength, it resumed its lethal pressure on the struggling Cezer's imprisoned windpipe.

Oskar drew his sword, only to find himself pushed aside by Mamakitty. Uttering a primordial growl, she leaped at her friend's traitorous shadow. She never reached it. At the same time she left her feet, she also cast her kwavin aside. Thus liberated, her own shadow (and it was unmistakably hers, Oskar was able to note even in the frenzy of the moment) reached out with both arms and tackled her around the ankles. Hitting the ground short of her objective, she rolled onto her back, clawing at the opaque shape. Not only was she unable to reach Cezer, she now found herself locked in a battle with the spasmodic, twitching attempts of her own shadow to slip its supple, dark fingers around her unprotected neck.

Frantic thoughts rushing to and fro within him, Oskar beckoned for Cocoa and Taj to stay back. "Samm, over there! Never mind your weapon—just stand over there!" He pointed to a spot on the ground.

"What?" For a snake, Samm was exceptionally bright. It was not his fault that all serpents are notoriously slow on the uptake.

Oskar rushed to the indicated place himself. "Here! Stand right here, next to me!" While changing his position, Oskar was careful to keep his own artfully woven kwavin positioned between the sun and himself. As a result, the only shadow he cast was the one produced by the smooth, oval, inoffensive shape of the kwavin. His own specter, rebellious or otherwise, remained contained within him.

Taking up a mystified stance alongside the much smaller man, Samm and his own far larger, custom-made kwavin blocked not only their owner but also everything that fell within their oversize shadow from the sun's rays. As artfully adjusted by Oskar, this shadow fell over and neatly eclipsed the struggling Cezer and Mamakitty. Swallowed by a shadow shape greater in extent than their own, the two insurgent individual shades found themselves instantly washed out of existence.

With the dark arm that had been wrapped so savagely around his neck expunged, a gasping Cezer was finally able to sit up. Head turning, eyes darting, he searched in vain for his assailant. Next to him, Mamakitty had risen to her feet and was brushing dirt and grass from her pants. Careful to keep her own kwavin properly positioned, Cocoa handed Mamakitty the one she had just tossed aside.

Hissing an ancient and venerable cat curse, Cezer accepted Taj's offer of a hand up. Vertical once more, slowly rubbing his neck with one hand, he gazed in confusion at the ground where he had been lying.

"What was that thing—some kind of local spirit?"

"Not a spirit, and not local." Stepping past him, Oskar reached out to grab the other man by the arm. "Don't move!"

The swordsman frowned at his friend, but without malice. He was too shaken by the recent attack to protest vigorously. "Why—what's wrong?" He looked around wildly. "It's not coming back, is it?"

"Not unless you step out of Samm's shadow," Oskar informed him seriously.

"Out of—?" Cezer hesitated, glanced at the hulking form of the giant standing nearby, his oversize kwavin resting against his broad shoulder, and then turned back to Oskar. "Why? What's Samm's shadow got to do with it?"

"It's a bigger shadow than your own. Big enough to swamp yours."

"Mine—?" For the second time in a very short while, the cat-man's eyes widened. "Are you saying that it was my own shadow that attacked me?"

"No," Oskar replied grimly, "I'm saying that it was your own shadow that tried to kill you. And would have, if we hadn't been able to put an even larger shadow in the right position in the nick of time." He nodded to his left. "When Mamakitty tried to help you, she put her own kwavin down. Freed, her shadow immediately went after her. I think it's safe to say that if any of us set our kwavins aside, the same thing will happen to each of us." As he finished, Cocoa self-consciously checked the deportment of her own woven shield.

"But this is such a charming realm," Cezer protested. "It doesn't make any sense."

"Who are we to say what makes sense in kingdoms each lit by a single color?" Sounding uncommonly authoritative, Taj freely but carefully twirled his kwavin on its supporting pole. "Myself, I like this place as much as anyone."

"You would," Cezer muttered. "Your original color fits right in, and high-flying birds cast no shadows. You could live here."

"Not in this form. Just because a country seems benign doesn't mean it is." The songster slowly eased his kwavin off his shoulder. "There, see!" He pointed sharply.

Sure enough, a hand could be seen emerging from the otherwise smooth, curving edge of the kwavin's shadow where it no longer shaded Taj's free hand. The clutching fingers vanished as soon as he readjusted the kwavin's position against his back.

"This is a land of bright yellow sunshine. Except on the occasional cloudy day, such light makes for shadows that are long and strong. Strong enough to want to exist on their own, it seems, free of their original masters. Haven't you ever looked at your shadow and wondered if it had thoughts of its own, or a desire to jump about independent of your movements?"

Cezer kicked irritably at the warm ground, wishing for something to scratch on. "I'm a cat. Of course I've had those thoughts about my shadow. They were just for play, though, as all shadows are."

"Not the shadows here." Chancing a quick peek around the edge of his own kwavin, Oskar saw that while the sun's position in the sky was dropping, it still had a ways to go before it would be safely set. No sun meant no homicidal, independent-minded shadows, he felt. Or would a fuller moon than the one that had illuminated the night sky the previous night also present a problem? If it did, it was one they would not have to worry about for several days, at least. That nocturnal orb was still far from full, and presumably its feebler light would present less of a danger. Shadows cast by moonlight might not even be strong enough to make a break for freedom from those who cast them.

Trying to plan for such a defiance of the natural order of things made his eyes water. Better to concentrate on the problems at hand.

"Perhaps the great wall and gate through which we entered into this land were built to keep strangers, and their shadows, out of the Kingdom of Yellow," Mamakitty theorized. "Perhaps once they have slain their creators, or otherwise liberated themselves, shadows in this country can go wherever they wish, causing havoc and devastation."

"We saw no sign of that at the Slevish village," Cocoa reminded her.

Mamakitty chewed her lower lip. "Obviously, the little folk have learned how to cope with their shadows. I wish we had asked more questions of them."

"Remember how the princess told us that the dangers out here would come from within ourselves?" Taj was watching his own oval, kwavin-shaped shadow spread harmlessly across the ground as the sun continued to set. "She was being entirely truthful."

"But not very informative." Oskar took a deep breath. "It would seem that when we stand or walk within kwavin-caused shadows, or maybe any shadow larger than ourselves, such as that cast by a tree or the inside of a building, that we are in no danger from the hazy executioners we bear within us. Until we are safely out of this kingdom, no one must stand in bright sunlight without such protection." Multiple nods of assent greeted his straightforward warning.

"What about the danger that lurks in this Great Rift?" Samm wondered aloud.

Oskar considered. "A deep canyon or cleft could be home to many unattached shadows. If I were an unattached shadow, it sounds like the sort of place I would try to hide. We will decide when we get there how best to make our way across. If the information provided by the princess's advisers is correct, we still have a fair distance to travel before we arrive." Finding a likely spot, he promptly settled himself on the ground and began to slip free of his small pack, careful first to plant his kwavin in the soft earth in front of him, between himself and the setting sun.

"What about me?" Cezer made no apology for his stubbornness. He didn't have to. It was plain to hear in his voice. "I don't have one of those kwaikdin—one of those woven shades." He murmured a sad sound that was almost a meow. "I—threw mine away."

Sipping from his water bottle, Oskar looked over at the now concerned cat-man. "Well, we're not going back for it. At least until dark, it looks like you're going to have to share the shadow of Samm's kwavin."


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