Dancer wiped cold rain from his brow. ‘Let’s go. No one’s home.’
‘Someone is home,’ Wu insisted. ‘They’re just ignoring us.’ He stepped back from the wide slab of iron-blue slate that was the house’s landing and shook his fist. ‘Fine! I will be back! And you won’t ignore me then – I swear!’
He turned to Dancer and adjusted his dripping wet coat. ‘Let’s go.’
‘So long as you’re done yelling at an empty house.’
Wu pointed both forefingers in emphasis, ‘I am far from done, my friend!’ He stamped off down the walk.
‘Hey, mister!’ a kid yelled from the street. The street-urchins now lined the fieldstone wall. Some were short enough to lean their elbows on it.
Wu halted. ‘What?’
‘Step out on to the grounds,’ the tallest of them called, while his peers chortled and covered their mouths. The younger ones froze at this suggestion, their eyes huge.
‘The grounds? Whatever for?’
Dancer waved an arm. ‘Get lost, you damned brats.’
‘G’wan,’ the lad called, ‘we double-dare you.’
Wu looked to the overcast sky in exasperation. ‘Fine.’ He stepped out among the dead knee-high grasses and weeds. ‘There. You happy now?’
‘Wow, he actually is that stupid,’ the lad whispered to his friends in wonderment.
Dancer waved Wu onward. ‘Stop showing off.’ He started for the gate.
A slithering, hissing noise among the weeds spun Dancer round. Wu had heard it also, and was scanning the dense matted bracken, looking puzzled. All at once something yanked the mage off his feet and he sprawled, his arms flailing.
The kids stared, jaws agape, then all screamed and scattered into the dark.
Dancer was in the air, blades already out. He fell slashing only to find tough dry roots wrapped about Wu’s ankle. He sawed them, but as soon as one parted two or three more took its place. Wu fumbled at the vines as well, but Dancer slapped his hands away and continued slashing even as both men were violently yanked through thorny brittle brush. He cast a quick glance ahead to see that they were being pulled directly towards the nearest mound – and that its heaped earth was steaming and roiling. Thicker roots now came snaking out of the dirt.
‘Do your stuff,’ he told Wu.
‘Well,’ the mage said, his voice tight with pain. ‘This is rather embarrassing.’
Another yank and they slid forward until Wu’s booted foot was up against the side of the mound. Dancer sawed and slashed frantically. ‘Do something!’ he yelled.
‘Can’t. Shadows won’t fool this…’ The mage suddenly raised his head in obvious inspiration. He raised a finger.
Dancer pointed a blade. ‘No! Don’t you dare!’
Wu’s foot sank into the steaming earth up to his shin. Fatter roots now emerged to twine round his thigh. Dancer noticed, distractedly, that no vines or roots were pulling at him.
‘The only chance, I’m afraid.’
‘No, not yet. We’ll think of something.’
‘Can’t be helped…’
‘No! Don’t you fucking dare!’
Cold darkness swept over him and he shuddered. What seemed like a storm of murk came whipping all about him and either it lifted him, or the earth fell, but he found himself falling in darkness. He hit hard, the breath punched from him, and rolled in dusty sandy earth.
He leapt to his feet, blades readied, turned a full circle. They were in some sort of desert and it was deep twilight. But then, it seemed to always be dusk in Shadow. He spotted Wu a short way off and stamped over to him.
‘I can’t believe you stranded us in Shadow again!’
Wu was holding his leg; his boot and trouser leg had been torn clean off. ‘Well, it worked. Remember that. I think my ankle’s broken.’
‘Well, I’m not carrying you.’
Wu glanced about almost contentedly. ‘Fine. I’ll just rest here until my ankle’s healed.’
Dancer pressed the cold pommels of his daggers to his brow and gave vent, stamping back and forth and kicking at the dust. ‘Arghh! Goddammit!’ He sheathed the blades savagely in his baldrics. ‘Okay! Which way?’
Wu pointed, squinting. ‘What is that?’
Dancer looked far off where the terrain climbed, but then realized that the mage meant closer in: there, a small dark object appeared to be hanging in the air. He wondered if it was a bird – but a bird that did not move? ‘Don’t know.’
‘Let’s have a look.’
Dancer took hold of Wu’s arm, grumbling, ‘Famous last words.’
He lifted the skinny fellow on to his back. He was a very light load. The dusty ground was quite flat, except where outcroppings of bulbous rocks rose suddenly, almost like islands.
‘Those are old coral reefs,’ Wu announced as they passed more of the curving buttes. Dancer grunted his disinterest.
Coming close to the object – or, rather, the ground beneath it – Dancer slowed his pace, staring. He set Wu down, hardly able to take his eyes from the thing.
Finally, Wu announced, rather nonplussed, ‘It’s a boat.’
Dancer nodded his agreement; it was indeed a boat. Round, or basket-shaped. A line descended from it to a net that hung just above them.
‘I wonder what would happen if we—’
‘No,’ Dancer snapped. ‘You’ve been caught once today. Isn’t that enough?’
While they stood watching, the boat rocked and the line began to rise, taking the net with it. Once the net was pulled up out of sight, a paddle appeared and the unseen occupant slowly headed off.
Dancer scratched his head. ‘Fishing in air?’
Hopping on one foot, Wu pointed ahead to where the ground rose. ‘Not necessarily. See how we’re in a broad deep valley here?’ Dancer nodded. ‘It could be that to our fisherman friend there’s a lake here – like two different moments in time overlapping. Sort of like layers.’
Dancer grunted his understanding. ‘But … why?’
Wu limped off with the aid of his stick. ‘Perhaps it is a characteristic of Shadow. Many scholars agree that the realm, or dimension, or place – call it what you will – is shattered. Broken. Perhaps this is a consequence. Shards of moments overlapping. In any case,’ and he pointed again, ‘let’s say hello to the locals, shall we?’
Dancer strolled, keeping pace. ‘Too dangerous. We should just return.’
‘Oh, come now. We’re here anyway…’
Dancer took a deep steadying breath, said through clenched teeth, ‘We need to get back.’
‘Won’t take but a moment.’
‘The last time didn’t go so smoothly…’
Wu raised a finger. ‘Ah! But did you notice our transition in?’
‘Yeah. We fell about a fathom.’
The Dal Hon mage looked crestfallen, his tangled brows crimping. ‘I meant how easy it was. Progress! No ritual or preparation. We’re getting to know each other better.’
‘We?’
‘Shadow and I.’
Dancer just rolled his eyes skyward. Then he noted drily, ‘Your ankle seems to have recovered rather quickly.’
Wu paused, his shoulders hunching. ‘Ah … yes. My amazing powers of recuperation, obviously.’
Dancer could not help but look to the sky once again.
They climbed a series of sloping hills. As they plodded along Dancer tried to put himself into the strange mindset that Wu was prattling on about. After thinking about it for a while he found he could picture that they were currently climbing what the locals would think of as the gradient of a lake, or an inland sea.
Where the ground levelled out they found a camp of domed huts built of bent branches and rough hides. Boats of similar construction, but inverted, lined what Dancer imagined would be the shore. The locals, however, made him flinch to a halt and snatch at his weapons.
Daemons, they appeared to him: inhumanly tall, insectile, with black spiny fur and large faceted eyes. Wu, however, hobbled right up to the nearest. Dancer hissed warnings at him and tried to head him off, but he took no notice.