1 Or, to give it its full title, the Overthrow of the Dictatorship of the Aalim by the Inhabitants of the Heart of the Magical World, and Its Replacement by a More Sensible Relationship with Time, Allowing for Dream-time, Lateness, Vagueness, Delays, Reluctances, and the Widespread Dislike of Growing Old.
The Rain Cats – for it is time, at last, to speak of catty matters! – started falling from the sky soon enough. They were large Cats, raintigers and rainlions, rainjaguars and raincheetahs, Water Felines of every spot and stripe. They were made of the rain itself, rain enchanted by the Aalim and turned into sabre-toothed Wildcats. They fell as cats fall, nimbly, fearlessly, and when they hit the flying carpet’s invisible security bubble they dug their claws in and held on. Soon there were Rain Cats all over the bubble, hundreds of them, then thousands, and their claws were long and powerful, and they slashed at the bubble to great and damaging effect. ‘I’m afraid they will break through the shield,’ cried Soraya, ‘and there are too many of them for us to fight.’
‘No, there aren’t! Come down here, Fraidy Cats! We’ll soon show you what’s what!’ Bear the dog barked bravely at the clawing, slashing Rain Cats above him, and the Old Boy prepared to grow to his full height again, but Luka knew all of that was just empty bravado. Thousands of feral enchanted felines would surely overpower even the great Titan, and while Bear and Dog (and maybe even Coyote) would fight for all they were worth, and no doubt Soraya had plenty of tricks up her sleeve, there could, in the end, be no victory against such unequal odds. ‘Every time I think we’ve cracked it,’ Luka thought, ‘there’s another impossible obstacle in my way.’ He took Soraya’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I only have one hundred and sixty-five lives left, and I don’t think they will be enough to get me through this last test,’ he said. ‘So if we lose here, I just want to say thank you, because I would never have come half this far without your help.’ The Insultana of Ott squeezed his hand back, looked over his shoulder, and burst into a wide smile. ‘No need to get sentimental on me just yet, stupid boy,’ she said, ‘because you’re not only making too many enemies, although you do seem to have no shortage of those. Look behind you. You’re also acquiring some pretty powerful friends.’
Enormous banks of cloud had piled up behind the Flying Carpet of King Solomon the Wise; but, Soraya pointed out with glee, those were not mere clouds. They were the assembled Wind Gods of the Magic World. ‘And their presence here,’ she said reassuringly, ‘means that the gods are definitely determined to get you home to do what you have to do.’
Now Luka saw the faces of the Wind Gods inside the cloud banks, cloud faces puffing up their cheeks and blowing with all their might. ‘Three Chinese Wind Gods are here,’ Soraya said very excitedly, ‘Chi Po, Feng-Po-Po and Pan-Gu! And you see that bunch of flying Wind Lions, the Fong-shih-ye from the Kinmen archipelago of Taiwan? The Chinese usually refuse to speak to them, or even to accept that they exist – but here they are, working together! It’s really amazing how everyone has united behind you! Fujin from Japan has come, and he never goes anywhere. Look there, all the American gods, the Iroquois deity Ga-Oh, and Taté of the Sioux, and, see, the ferocious Cherokee Wind Spirit, Oonawieh Unggi, over there! I mean, the Sioux and the Cherokee were never allies, and to join up with the Iroquois Confederacy – oh, my! And even Chup the Wind God of the Chumash tribe from California has stopped sunbathing and shown up; he’s usually too laid-back to rustle up much more than a light breeze. And the Africans are here as well – that’s Yansan the Yoruba Wind Goddess! And from Central and South America, Ecalchot of the Niquiran Indians, and the Mayan Pauahtuns, and Unáhsinte of the Zuni Indians, and Guabancex from the Caribbean … they’re so old, that lot, that frankly I thought they had blown themselves out, but it looks like they have plenty of puff left! And fat Fa’atiu the Samoan is over there, and bulgy Buluga of the Andaman Islands is over there, and Ara Tiotio the Tornado God of Polynesia, and Paka’a from Hawaii. And Ays the Armenian Wind Demon, and the Vila, the Slav Goddesses, and the Norse winged giant Hraesvelg who makes the winds just by flapping his wings, and the Korean Goddess Yondung Halmoni – she’d be blowing better if she wasn’t stuffing her mouth with rice cakes, the greedy creature! – and Mbon from Burma, and Enlil –’
‘Stop, please stop,’ Luka begged. ‘It doesn’t matter what they’re called – what they’re doing is more than enough.’ What they were doing was this: they were blowing away the Rain Cats. With many loud roars and yowls the Rain Cats lost their grip on the bubble around the flying carpet and were sent flying to nowhere, blown head over heels into the depths of the broken sky. A great cry of happiness went up from everyone aboard the Resham, and then the Wind Gods really got going, and the carpet began to travel at the most amazing speed. Even Soraya with all her skill could not have made it go half as fast. The Magic World below them and the sky above became a blur. All Luka could see was the carpet itself and the massed Wind Gods behind it, blowing him all the way home. ‘Get me back in time,’ he thought fervently once again. ‘Please don’t let me be too late, just get me back in time.’
The wind dropped, the carpet landed, the Wind Gods disappeared, and Luka was home: not on the bank of the Silsila as he had expected, but in his very own lane, in front of his very own house, in the very place where he first heard Dog and Bear speak, where he first met Nobodaddy and embarked on his great adventure. The colours of the world were still strange, the sky still too blue, the dirt too brown, the house much pinker and greener than usual; nor was it normal for a flying carpet to be parked here, with a Sultana of the Magic World, a Titan, a Coyote and two Elephant Birds aboard, all of them looking distinctly ill at ease.
‘The truth is we don’t belong here, at the Frontier,’ said Soraya, as Luka, Dog the bear and Bear the dog stepped off Resham into the dusty lane. ‘So, since you have to go, go quickly, so that we also can be off. Go to that other Soraya who lives in that house, and when you pop that Ott Potato into your father’s mouth, don’t forget it was the Insultana of Ott who gave it to you; and afterwards, as you grow into a young man, think about that Insultana sometimes, if you don’t completely forget.’
‘I’ll never forget you,’ Luka said, ‘but please, can I ask you one last question: can I pick up an Ott Potato with my bare hands? And if I put it into my dad’s mouth, won’t it burn him to bits?’
‘The Fire of Life does not wound those it touches,’ said Soraya of Ott. ‘Rather, it heals wounds. You will not find that glowing vegetable too hot to pick up. Nor will it do your father anything but good. There are six Ott Potatoes in that Pot, by the way,’ she concluded, ‘one for each of you, if that’s what you decide.’
‘Goodbye, then,’ said Luka, and then he turned to the Old Boy and added, ‘And I meant to say, I’m sorry about what happened to Captain Aag, because he was your brother, after all.’ The Old Boy shrugged. ‘Nothing to be sorry about,’ he said. ‘I never liked him anyway.’ Then, without further ado, the Insultana Soraya raised her arms, and the Flying Carpet of King Solomon the Wise rose into the sky and vanished with only a soft whoosh for farewell.