Kingdoms of Light

TWELVE

They advanced with caution after the attack, everyone careful to always keep their kwavin between themselves and the setting sun. Only after it was well down and the splinter of moon not yet visible on the star-flecked horizon did they at last feel safe in stopping and setting their woven shields aside.

"No wonder the Slevish make sure to always carry their kwavin with them." Mamakitty had planted her own shade in the dirt, jamming the pole firmly into the soil. It would not be sufficient to protect her, she knew, if shadows cast by the moon were as capable of insurgency as their daytime relations. If that proved to be the case, they would have to post a guard whose task it would be to rotate everyone's individual kwavin in tandem with the movements of that nighttime orb. For the time being, however, that thin curl of silver light seemed to pose little threat.

"This is ridiculous." Sitting by himself, Cezer was distinctly unhappy. "I can't cross the rest of this lemon-colored kingdom hugging that upright serpent's side. What if I forget and fall back a few paces, or he trips and stumbles?"

Oskar pondered his friend's concern. "A good point. We're all going to have to watch our step. You can be sure our shadows are just waiting, biding their time, for us to make a mistake and let them loose."

It was a disquieting thought, this notion that each of them might be hosting a patient, ephemeral assassin. Trying to keep watch over one's shadow was not so very different from monitoring a rebellious right hand, he mused. He broke from his thoughts as he moved to stop Cocoa from gathering firewood.

"No fire tonight." He gently placed a restraining hand on her arm. "No fires until we're out of this kingdom and safely into the next—assuming shadows in the Kingdom of Green do as they're told and don't go off and act on their own."

She dropped the several sticks she had already accumulated. "That means a cold dinner."

"Better a cold dinner than a cold corpse," he replied. "Think a moment, Cocoa: fires throw heat, and smoke—and shadows."

"They wouldn't be stable." Taj was considering the possible ramifications. "Any shadows cast by a campfire would flicker unevenly, waxing and waning and dancing like the flames themselves."

The dog-man regarded the speculative songster. "You want to take that chance?"

Taj shrugged amiably. "Doesn't matter to me. I've always preferred my food cold anyway."

"We'll take no chances." Mamakitty's tone brooked no argument. Not that there was a surge of support for a fire anyway. Cocoa had wanted it more for light than heat. Like the days, nights in the Kingdom of Yellow were balmy and comfortable.

Walking over to where the disconsolate Cezer was seated, Taj clapped the other man on the shoulder. "I was always pretty good at manipulating things with my feet and beak, my friend. Now that I have hands, I should be able to do even better. There's plenty of raw material lying about. I'll take it upon myself to fashion you a kwavin before this night is done. That way you won't be dependent on Samm, or anyone else, for protection from your shadow."

A surprised Cezer looked up appreciatively. "That's right good of you, Taj. Tell me how I can help."

While the others rested, the two men gathered fronds and leaves, coils of vine, and strips of bark. By the time they were preparing to eat a late supper, Taj's quick hands had completed the task. A tired Oskar was still awake enough to be impressed: the songster's fingers had been a blur above his materials.

While undoubtedly functional, the result was less than artistic. Taj had worked quickly and efficiently, but he did not have the experience or the traditional weaving skills of the Slevish. What mattered was that like the rest of them, Cezer would now have a protective shade to shield himself from the sun and keep his own murderous shadow at bay. But he would not win any prizes for artistry.

Rising, the swordsman frowned at the makeshift shade. The cinching vines held everything together, but barely. "Pretty flimsy," he remarked. "Where's the carrying pole?"

"There is no pole." Taj looked apologetic—but not, Oskar thought, eyeing him shrewdly, too apologetic. "I couldn't figure out how to tie the shade to a stick. I'm no Slevish weaver. You don't carry it: you have to wear it. It's a hat."

Cezer stared in disbelief at the bulge in the center of the huge shade, at the loose fronds that dangled from the edges. "I'm not putting this ridiculous thing on my head. It doesn't go with my fu—with my chosen attire."

"Then you can hold it," Mamakitty advised him, "and hope we don't have to take shelter from any sudden hailstorms."

"Or wave it at your shadow every time you take a step toward the sun," a grinning Cocoa suggested.

"You're all so very amusing." Walking with his head tilted toward the moon so that the absurd chapeau would shade his entire body, he managed to find a safe place to sit. The shade from the oversize bonnet did not block out his continuous grumbling, however.

"This kingdom could be a real paradise." A seated Oskar was gnawing on a strip of dried fish from their stores, as nutritious as it was uninviting. At least, it was uninviting to him: the cats and Samm loved the stuff. "But one wrong step into the sunshine, and you could be tripped up and killed by your own shadow. From the time you're born here, your very own executioner travels with you."

"Do children's shadows murder children? I wonder." Mamakitty, too, was meditating around her meal.

"If you think this is difficult for you, imagine how I feel." Samm was a looming human hillock shutting out the stars as he chewed reflectively on his own dinner. "I'm far less used to dealing with a shadow than any of you."

They talked a while longer before exhaustion caught up with minds as well as legs. Posted to first watch, Cocoa noted that the scrawny strip of moon continued to cast no shadows upon the ground, whereupon she felt confident enough to indulge in some sleep of her own. Her decision was validated when everyone awoke before dawn feeling refreshed and as eager to be on their way as they were to be out of this kingdom.

The next several days saw them making good time and new discoveries. It was revealed that safe bathing unencumbered by awkward kwavins was possible at any time no matter the position of the sun so long as the bather was careful to keep to running water and stay mostly submerged. Shadows that tried to congeal in a fast-flowing stream shattered helplessly with each ripple and twist of the surface. An impalpable hand might grasp at an arm or leg, only to waver and break apart. A dusky foot attempting to trip its originator would break apart and slip away in pieces in the undulating underwater light. When a more substantial shadow did threaten to form, a quick splash was sufficient to fracture it into gobbets of harmless gloom.

It was also possible to relax unshaded and enjoy a quick lunch at high noon. With the sun directly overhead, no shadows could form. During this brief but welcome window of freedom, cares and kwavins could safely be set aside.

When they finally reached the Great Rift, however, the confidence they had gained over the previous several days evaporated as swiftly as a shadow in the face of the setting sun.

The fissure in the earth was not impossibly wide, but it was both deep and forbiddingly dark. Gaunt trees, fragile bushes, and several varieties of determined grass clung to both rims, spilling over their respective sides and growing as far down into the depths as sunlight would permit. It was easy to see how such an abyss might appear to the diminutive Slevish to constitute an impassable barrier.

Master Evyndd's transformed minions, however, were in no wise ordinary travelers.

"Doesn't look too bad," Cezer ventured as he peered discreetly over the edge. "Plenty of places to rest, and lots of handholds."

"Easy for a cat to say." Oskar viewed the forthcoming transit with undisguised trepidation. "And Taj can take his usual quick, graceful, no-fear-of-heights hops, while despite his exaggerated size I suspect Samm retains all of the ground-hugging abilities of his kind." He glanced in the giant's direction. "Even though he now has to deal with feet. I'm the only one here who doesn't come from a line of good climbers."

"You'll manage," Mamakitty assured him. "We'll help you. It's not your fault dogs aren't as nimble as cats."

The giant was gazing into the unfathomable depths of the crevice. "Master Evyndd could never have made it across. Ordinary humans just aren't very agile. Not like snakes. Or cats or birds," he added after the briefest of pauses.

"We're not across yet, either," Mamakitty reminded them all. "We still have to cope with whatever dangers lie below."

Oskar squinted into the darkness, searching for activity or movement and finding none. "If this place is some kind of refuge for unfettered shadows, they're not being obvious about it."

"Maybe they're waiting for when we try to cross," Cocoa suggested. This was not a prospect that sat well with any of them.

"What about trying it at night?" Samm proposed. "Without the sun to cast shadows, maybe they have to sleep, or rest, or do whatever it is shadows do when they're not being shadows."

"I don't know…" Mamakitty's always cautious voice trailed away as she contemplated the chasm before them. "If they're able to move around down there in the darkness during the day, what's to prevent them from doing the same at night? And despite the abilities some of us have to see almost as well after sunset as at noontime, traveling at night would still make for a dangerous descent and subsequent climb."

After scouting along the rim of the gorge and settling on what appeared to be the most likely location for a crossing, they decided to attempt the transit just before noon on the following day. If they could move fast enough, and encountered no unexpected obstacles, they might make it across the place Oskar had named "The Narrows" before the shifting sun could spark shadows long and strong enough to threaten them.

It was determined that Taj, who cast the least shadow of any of them, should lead the way. The others would follow, with Samm bringing up the rear. Of course, the overriding hope was that their kwavins would protect them, and they would encounter no trouble at all. Their principal fear was that, while they were familiar with and had learned how to subdue and monitor their own shadows, they knew nothing of those that might lie in wait, unattached and unencumbered by absent owners, in the chasm below.

Smiling affably both to encourage his companions and to mask his own fears, Taj stepped off the side of the rift and started down, feet held closely together as he hopped from rock to ledge, from inclined surface to flat ground. Several times he and the cat-folk had to slow down and wait for Samm and Oskar to catch up.

The presence in the cleft of so much vegetation helped. Where the rocks were slippery or loose, sturdy trees and well-rooted bushes offered welcome handholds. Making steady progress, they soon found themselves enveloped in the chasm's darkened depths, seeing the sun but rarely. The rocks over which they were clambering emitted an agreeable coolness.

As planned, they reached the bottom when the sun was at its zenith. Directly overhead, it provided plenty of light to illuminate the way, but cast no threatening shadows. Hurrying across the meandering floor of the canyon, they encountered the skeletons and forsaken weapons of less fortunate travelers who had come before. A chill that did not come from the cool air at the bottom of the chasm ran down Oskar's spine. Here was proof that the danger of this place was real, and did not exist only in the minds of the apprehensive Slevish. Something in this place killed people. No one spoke as they picked up the pace, their progress followed by empty eye sockets and twisted skulls.

It was with great relief that they completed the most dangerous open portion of the crossing without incident. Soon they were scrambling up the other side, relieved at having traversed the region of greatest potential jeopardy without difficulty. Success lent strength to their efforts. They were a quarter of the way up the eastern wall and beginning to feel almost safe when brilliant sunlight struck their ascent with unexpected force.

Shielding her eyes, Cocoa whirled to seek the source of the bright light. With his less sensitive eyes, Oskar was the first to spot the squadron of shadows. High up near the opposite rim, they clustered together beneath a protective ledge. The scavenged metal shields they were holding had been polished to a high gloss. The resultant mirrorlike finish flawlessly reflected the rays of the afternoon sun all the way across the gap—to illumine the startled knot of travelers.

Unshackled by the reflected light that struck her body at an unexpected angle, Cocoa's shadow promptly leaped onto her shoulders from behind, avoiding the kwavin that she held high to ward off the sun. Owner and shadow crashed to the hard ground. When Oskar turned to help, he found his right arm pinned behind him while murky grasping fingers sought his eyes. Twisting desperately away from those clawing appendages, he was forced to forget all about Cocoa in the struggle to save himself.

Unused as he was to dealing with a shadow in his original form, Samm was having as tough a time as any of them. The monstrous black cloud he threw to the ground was up again in an instant, grappling for its hulking master's throat. All of them were now fully engaged, forced by the shafts of light thrown across the canyon by the shield mirrors to do battle with the most evanescent constituents of their personal selves.

Oskar was flat on his back, with his shadow on top and threatening to smother him, when it was torn bodily away from his torso. Coughing for air, he sat up and saw Mamakitty raking her much reduced but still effective claws across its featureless face. Something in that silent oval emptiness must have been sensitive, for the shadow reached up and clutched at itself. Utilizing the respite to regain his feet, Oskar saw that a rapidly weakening Taj was having a particularly difficult time with his own homicidal shade. Preparing to throw himself into the fray, the dog-man hesitated. Clearly, something more than brute strength was going to be needed to deliver them from this ghostly encounter.

Reaching back behind him, he removed his kwavin from its bindings. Though damaged in the surprise attack, it still retained its oval shape. Positioning it to protect himself, he stepped between the battling Taj and the light reflected from across the canyon. Immediately the songster's shadow vanished, swallowed up by the shade provided by the kwavin. A grateful Taj rolled to his knees and started to rise.

Whereupon another shaft of light struck him, resurrecting his shadow. It promptly wrapped dark, featureless arms around his legs.

Whirling, Oskar peered anxiously around the edge of his kwavin. Another group of shadows on the opposite side of the canyon had brought forth a second set of polished shields. Clustering on a lower ledge slightly to the south of the first troupe, these dusky new arrivals to the battle were reflecting damning sunlight from a location significantly removed from the first.

Feeling pressure on his lower legs, Oskar looked down to see his own restored shadow fighting to pull him off his feet. When he shifted his kwavin to block the reflected light that was giving it renewed life, it promptly vanished—only to reappear again in the bright ray of light cast by the first group.

No wonder the Great Rift proved such a fearful barrier. Equipped with a protective kwavin, a knowledgeable traveler might well think himself safe, only to be ensnared by lifethreatening sunlight originating from not one but multiple locations. Making their situation even more desperate was the fact that the longer they remained trapped in combat on the canyon wall, the easier it was for the liberated shadows on the far side of the abyss to aim their shields. What might happen after dark in a place where unfettered shadows ruled was something Oskar did not wish to experience.

He considered wrenching Taj's own kwavin from the smaller man's back. Equipped with two of them, he could block both streams of reflected sunlight. Huddled together beneath the twin shields, both men would be safe.

That was when sunshine from still a third cluster of shadow-manipulated shields struck the spot where the embattled travelers were fighting for their lives. Now imported light was creating shadows from not one, but three different directions. Not only did the tri-pronged assault render the use of kwavins for protection almost impossible, it created an entirely new and unexpected source of danger.

Able to block only one source of light, and therefore of shadow, Oskar found himself under attack from not one but two shades of himself.

His kwavin dragged aside, he felt himself go down beneath three entirely independent shadows. The darkness that covered his face had nothing to do with the setting sun that still rode hazardously high in the sky. He struggled to keep their hands off his mouth and nose and away from his eyes. Though he fought valiantly, there were too many of them.

Then one dusky specter suddenly staggered away, its swarthy hands feeling frantically for the colorless head that had been ripped from its clouded shoulders. A second shadow was ephemerally eviscerated, vaporous guts spilling in a nebulous stream from a ragged cleft that had been ripped in its side. Oskar felt warm hands helping him up. He started to thank his savior—only to have the words catch in his throat.

Staring back at him was a black wraith with bright yellow eyes. Yellow-white teeth flashed in an otherwise ebony countenance. Then the wraith-shape whirled to throw itself onto the shadows that were pinning the rapidly weakening Taj to the ground.

A dazed Oskar thought to recover his kwavin and place it between himself and the malevolent light. Counting, he saw that not one but three of the yellow-eyed black phantoms were now scampering among the rocks, tearing into shadows with gusto, shredding them like the smoke they so nearly resembled. Soon every one of them was down; dismembered, disemboweled, or decapitated. They bled coal-black smudge, and died.

Slightly numb, the dog-man stumbled through the evanescent corpses. It stood to reason, he decided. If a shadow could kill a someone, then could not an appropriately equipped someone also kill a shadow? One by one, the streams of mirror-shield-reflected light winked out as the liberated shadows who had been manipulating them saw the terrible carnage that the raven-hued counterattackers had wrought. They were not used to seeing their kind slain, and the shock of it aborted any further attempts to constrain the travelers. In impalpable twos and threes, the shadows on the far side of the canyon slunk back into the depths of abyssal darkness from whence they had come.

One of the avenging wraiths half strode, half flowed up to Oskar and blocked his path. He sensed instinctively that the sword still sheathed at his side would be as useless against this phantom as it had been against the enfolding shadows.

"What do you?" Clenching his fists, he stared at the silent apparition. Slitted yellow eyes and sharp bright teeth were all that were visible in the otherwise featureless face.

Slitted yellow eyes and sharp bright teeth … His expression softened to one of bemused but rising astonishment. He knew those eyes.

"Mamakitty?" he heard himself inquiring uncertainly.

The blackness seemed to undulate and flow before his gaze. At last it coalesced into a shape that was both solid and human—and something more. A weary but triumphant smile split the sweet dark face of the feline woman he knew so well.

"This is how cats do battle with shadows, Oskar. It is something no one but another cat can descry or comprehend. Humans are ignorant of the manner of it, and though they are more perceptive, so are dogs. It's very much a thing particular-peculiar to cats. Do you wonder why our kind are so often likened to shadows, or said to move like them? Special cat magic it is, but it took the threat of these shadows to allow us to find and make use of it once more." Looking down at her left hand, she rotated it slowly, as if seeing its human shape totally anew.

"This is the work of Master Evyndd." Cocoa had come over to stand alongside her sister feline. "Once more, the essence of our real selves has saved us." Behind her, a jubilant Cezer was going from dead shadow to shadow corpse, whacking each on the head with an open hand, making sure none were faking their unexpected demise. Seeing him at work, Oskar was reminded of a triumphant cat giving the coup de grace to a row of dead rats.

"First Cezer's elongating sword," Mamakitty observed, "and now, when Death threatens utter and complete disaster, this new and unexpected evolvement. I'm starting to feel a little better about our chances of carrying out the Master's wishes." She eyed her much relieved friend intently. "I wonder what special ability he has allowed to lie dormant within you, Oskar, and when it will manifest itself?"

Not knowing the answer, or even if there was an answer, he could only shrug. "If we ever need any old bones, I'm sure I'll be the one to get hold of them. Other than that, I couldn't say."

"Cats and shadows have done battle since both existed," Mamakitty commented. "It was an enormous relief to once again be able to challenge them on their own terms."

Her explanation was salving, but not entirely satisfying. "Then if Master Evyndd left within you three the ability to transform in this fashion, why didn't it reveal itself when Cezer's shadow first attacked him, soon after we entered into this kingdom?"

Her expression turned serious. "All I can think of is that the situation was not grave enough to spark our latent abilities. It leads one to think that one or more of us is expendable, but not all. To provoke the needed reaction, it seems that an appropriately serious stimulus is required."

It was not a reassuring thought. To break the ensuing uncomfortable silence, she turned and pointed to the eastern rim of the canyon that still lay high above the ledge where they stood.

"Let's get out of this place. We don't know if the shadows here are capable of producing other surprises. I don't want to be caught in this deep, dark tear in the ground if they have any more."

The shadows did not. Or if they did, they were too dispirited by the cat-folk's unexpectedly ferocious counterattack to mount them. Still, everyone kept their kwavins close at hand and properly positioned between themselves and the sun.

In fact, when late that afternoon the tenor of the terrain began to exhibit the first subtle but unmistakable shift from unadulterated yellow to yellowish green, Oskar tried an experiment that left them all with much to ponder.

Pausing by the edge of a stream that flowed down a gentle, grassy hill, he deliberately set his kwavin aside and stood, unshielded and unprotected, in the vivid rays of the setting sun. Taj was aghast, and even Mamakitty wondered if their mustachioed companion had suddenly taken leave of his senses.

For his part, Oskar was not too terribly worried. Not with three lethal felines present to intervene on his behalf in case anything went wrong. But as it developed, the conjecture that had inspired his action was proved correct, and there was no need for Mamakitty or anyone else to leap to his rescue.

All around him, trees and bushes and grass and lemon-tinged birds cast shadows on the warm ground. Only he, alone and kwavin-less, stood unaccompanied by an elongated, distorted silhouette. Deliberately, he paced off a small circle. It did not matter where he stood or what direction he faced. Nor was there any visible change when he spread his arms wide. His shadow, a permanent fixture of his life, an unshakable companion of both his human and canine forms, was gone.

"Dead." With the lowering sun directly behind him, he stared at the unshadowed ground.

"So it would seem." Having set her kwavin aside in imitation of her bold companion, Cocoa stood next to him, slowly waving her own arms up and down. "Not only yours, but mine as well, and doubtless all of ours."

"Of course they're dead!" A triumphant Cezer saw no point in belaboring the obvious. "We tore 'em to pieces. Why the long faces? A shadow is of no use. It's a parasite, a carbuncle on the spirit. Me, I'm glad to be rid of mine." He examined the human nails that had once again taken the place of sharp claws. "Next time I'm stalking a bird or a mouse, I won't have to worry about the damn thing giving me away."

Oskar looked at Mamakitty. "Is this permanent, do you think?"

She regarded the small yellow-green stream that ran through the little valley at the base of the hill. "Difficult to say, Oskar. It would seem so, but shadows are resilient things. All I know is that in our own country, after they have been gone for a while, they have a way of coming back to haunt you when their presence is least expected."

He weighed this observation, then nodded slowly. "I'll keep that in mind. Just as I'll remember not to take mine for granted should it ever put in an appearance again." Together, they started down the gentle slope. "I don't suppose a restored or resurrected shadow that had been violently slain would have the sense or inclination to seek revenge, would it?"

Mamakitty's shoulders rose and fell ever so slightly. "Who knows what a shadow thinks? Who knows if a shadow thinks? Best not to dwell on that which we cannot control." She lengthened her stride a little, ignoring the occasional rock that pimpled the hillside. Tripping was something that did not concern her, Oskar knew. Cats did not trip.

She was right, of course. His shadow, all their shadows, were dead, slain in combat. No longer would the dark outlines familiar from birth provide hazy company on a sunny day. By the same token, no longer would they pose a threat—unless they returned, reconstituted by processes he could never hope to understand, and full of…

Full of what? A desire for retribution? Indifference toward what had happened? A sly craving to bide their time? As he loped a little faster to keep up with Mamakitty and the others, he found it hard not to think about the thing she had advised him not to think about. Shadow present or shadow defunct, one thing he did know for certain.

He determined never again, for as long as he lived, to fall asleep in direct sunlight.