Cordelia had no idea how Warreen found the pond and the tree. So far as she could tell, they followed a perfectly straight path. A dot appeared in the sunset distance. It grew as they approached it. Cordelia saw a tough-looking desert oak streaked with charcoal stripes. It seemed to have been struck by lightning more than once and looked as if it had occupied this patch of hardscrabble soil for centuries. A belt of grass surrounded the tree. A gentle slope led down to reeds and then the edge of a pool about thirty feet across. "Where's the monster?" said Cordelia.
"Hush." Warreen strode up to the tree and began to strip. His muscles were lean and beautifully defined. His skin shimmered with sweat, glowing almost a dark blue in the dusk. When he skinned out of the jeans, Cordelia at first turned away, then decided this was not an occasion for politeness, whether false or otherwise.
God, she thought. He's gorgeous. Depending on gender, her kin would have been either scandalized or triggered to a lynching impulse. Even though she had been reared to abhor such a thought, she wanted to reach and lightly touch him. This, she abruptly realized, was not like her at all. Although she was surrounded in New York by people of other colors, they still made her nervous. Warreen was engendering that reaction, yet it was vastly different in nature and intensity. She did want to touch him.
Naked, Warreen neatly folded his clothes and set them in a pile beneath the tree. In turn, he picked up a variety of objects from the grass. He inspected a long club, then set it back down. Finally he straightened with a spear in one hand, a boomerang in the other. He looked fiercely at Cordelia. " I can be no more ready."
She felt a chill like ice water run through her. It was a sensation both of fear and of excitement. "Now what?" She tried to keep her voice low and steady, but it squeaked slightly. God, she hated that.
Warreen didn't have a chance to answer. He gestured toward the dark pool. Ripples had appeared on the far side. The center of those ripples seemed to be moving toward them. A few bubbles burst on the surface.
The water was shrugged aside. What surveyed the couple on the bank was a figure out of a nightmare. Looks meaner than any joker I've ever seen, Cordelia thought. As it lifted more of its body from the water, she decided the creature must possess at least the mass of Bruce the Shark. The froglike mouth gaped, revealing a multitude of rustcolored teeth. It regarded the humans with slitted, bulging lizard eyes.
"It is equally sired of fish and lizard," said Warreen conversationally, as though guiding a European tourist through a wild-game park. He stepped forward and raised his spear.
"Cousin Gurangatch!" he called out. "We would drink from the spring and rest beneath the tree. We would do this in peace. If we cannot, then I must treat you in the manner employed by Mirragen the Cat-man against your mighty ancestor."
Gurangatch hissed like a freight train bleeding its brakes. Without hesitation it lunged forward, slamming down on the wet bank with the slap of a ten-ton eel. Warreen lightly leapt back, and the stained teeth clashed together just in front of his face. He poked Gurangatch's snout with the spear. The fish-lizard hissed even louder.
"You are not so lithe as Mirragen," it said with the voice of a steam hose. Gurangatch jerked away as Warreen pulled loose the spear and stabbed again. This time the pointed end jammed under the shining silver scales surrounding the monster's right eye. The creature twisted, tugging the spear loose from Warreen's fingers.
The monster reared high, gazing at Warreen from ten feet, fifteen, twenty. The man looked up, expectant, the boomerang cocked in his right hand. The hiss was almost a sigh. "Time to die again, little cousin!" Gurangatch's bull neck flexed, dipped. Jaws gaped.
This time Cordelia remembered to click off the safety. This time she braced herself by holding the H and K with both hands. This time the bullets went exactly where she wished.
She saw the slugs stitch a line down Gurangatch's throat. She released the trigger, raised the gun, fired a quick burst at the monster's face. One of the creature's eyes burst like a balloon full of dye. It cried out in pain, green jelly sloshing down across its snout. The wounds in the neck were oozing crimson. Christmas colors, Cordelia thought. Get a grip, girl. Don't go hysterical.
As Gurangatch writhed in the water, Warreen swung his arm in a short, tight arc and set the end of the boomerang into the creature's remaining eye. At this, the monster bellowed so loudly, Cordelia winced and recoiled back a step. Then Gurangatch doubled over in the water and dove. Cordelia had a quick impression of a thick, gilalike tail disappearing through the spray. Then the pool was quiet, small wavelets still splashing up on the banks. The ripples flattened and were gone.
"He has dived into the earth," said Warreen, squatting and peering into the water. "He will be gone a long time." Cordelia put the H and K back on safety.
Hands free of weapons, Warreen turned away from the pool and stood. Cordelia couldn't help herself. She stared. Warreen glanced down, then met her eyes again. With little apparent embarrassment he said, "It is the excitement of the contest." Then he smiled and said, "This wouldn't happen under ordinary circumstances if I were guiding a European lady in the outback."
It occurred to Cordelia to pick up his folded clothing and hold it out to him.
With dignity Warreen accepted the garments. Before turning away to dress he said, "If you're ready, it would be a good time for a refreshing drink and some rest. I'm sorry I'm a bit short of tea."
Cordelia said, "I'll manage."
The desert was slow to cool with the sunset. Cordelia continued to feel the heat rise out of the ground beneath her. Warreen and she lay back against the gnarled, semiexposed roots of the tree. The air felt as though it were a quilted comforter pulled up over her face. When she moved, the motion seemed to be at half speed.
"The water was delicious," she said, "but I'm still hungry"
"Your hunger here is an illusion."
"Then I'll fantasize a pizza."
"Mmph," Warreen said. "Very well." With a sigh he raised himself to his knees and ran his fingers over the rough bark of the tree. When he found a loose patch, he tugged it away from the trunk. His right hand darted forward, fingers scrambling to catch something Cordelia couldn't see. "Here." He displayed his find to her.
Her first impression was of something snakelike and squirming. She saw the pasty color, the segments and the many legs. "What is that?" she said.
"Witchetty grub." Warreen smiled. "It's one of our national cuisines." He thrust his hand forward like a mischievous little boy. "Does it turn your stomach, little missy?"
"Goddamnit. No," she said with a flash of anger. "Don't call me that." What are you doing? she said to herself as she reached for the creature. "Do I have to eat it live?"
"No. It is not necessary" He turned and cracked the creature against the desert oak. The witchetty grub convulsed once and ceased struggling.
Forcing herself just to do it and not think about the act, she took the witchetty, popped it into her mouth, and started chewing. God, she thought, why do I do these things?
"How do you find it?" said Warreen with a solemn face. "Well," said Cordelia, swallowing, "it doesn't taste like chicken."
The stars came out, spangling a belt across the entire sky. Cordelia lay with fingers plaited behind her head. She realized she had lived in Manhattan for close to a year and never looked for the stars at all.
"Nurunderi is up there," said Warreen, pointing at the sky, "along with his two young wives, placed there by Nepelle, the ruler of the heavens, after the women ate the forbidden food."