We were driving on a bare, dirt roadway through a cathedral of enormous trees. It seemed to go on forever and ever. I felt safe in the place. Occasionally, startled a deer, surprised a fox crossing or standing near the road. In places, the way was marked with hoofprints. The sunlight was sometimes filtered through leaves, angling like tight golden strings on some Hindu musical instrument. The breeze was moist and spoke of living things. It came to me that I knew this place, that I had ridden this road often in the past. I had ridden through the Forest of Arden on horseback, walked through it, hunted in it, lay on my back beneath some of those great boughs, my arms beneath my head, staring upward. I had climbed among the branches of some of those giants and looked down upon a green world, constantly shifting.
“I love this place.” I said, only half realizing I had said it aloud, and Random replied. “You always did.” and there might have been a trace of amusement in his voice. I couldn’t be sure.
Then off in the distance I heard a note which I knew to be the voice of a hunting born.
“Drive faster,” said Random suddenly. “That sounds to be Julian’s horn.”
I obeyed.
The horn sounded again, nearer.
“Those damn hounds of his will tear this car to pieces, and his birds will feed on our eyes!” he said. “I’d hate to meet him when he’s this well prepared. Whatever he hunts, I know he’d willingly relinquish it for quarry such as two of his brothers.”
“‘Live and let live’ is my philosophy these days,” I remarked.
Random chuckled.
“What a quaint notion. I’ll bet it will last all of five minutes.”
Then the horn sounded again, even nearer, and he remarked, “Damn!”
The speedometer said seventy-five, in quaint, runic numerals, and I was afraid to go any faster on that road.
And the horn sounded again, much nearer now, three long notes, and I could hear the baying of hounds, off to the left.
“We are now very near to the real Earth, though still far from Amber,” said my brother. “It will be futile to run through adjacent Shadows, for if it is truly us that he follows, he will pursue us. Or his shadow will.”
“What shall we do!”
“Speed, and hope it is not us that he follows.”
And the horn sounded once again, almost next to us this time.
“What the hell is he riding, a locomotive?” I asked.
“I’d say he is riding the mighty Morgenstern, the fastest horse he has ever created.”
I let that last word roll around in my head for a while, wondering at it and wondering at it. Yes, it was true, some inner voice told me. He did create Morgenstern, out of Shadows, fusing into the beast the strength and speed of a hurricane and a pile driver.
I remembered that I had call to fear that animal, and then I saw him.
Morgenstern was six hands higher than any other horse I’d ever seen, and his eyes were the dead color of a Weimaraner dog’s and his coat was a light gray and his hooves looked like polished steel. He raced along like the wind, pacing the car, and Julian was crouched in his saddle — the Julian of the playing card, long black hair and bright blue eyes, and he had on his scaled white armor.
Julian smiled at us and waved, and Morgenstern tossed his head and his magnificent mane rippled in the wind, like a flag. His legs were a blur.
I recalled that Julian had once had a man wear my castoff garments and torment the beast. This was why it had tried to trample me on the day of a hunt, when I’d dismounted to skin a buck before it.
I’d rolled the window shut once more, so I didn’t think it could tell by scent that I was inside the car. But Julian had spotted me, and I thought I knew what that meant. All about him ran the Storm Hounds, with their tough, tough bodies and their teeth like steel. They too had come Out of Shadow, for no normal dog could run like that. But I knew, for a certainty, that the word “normal” did not really apply to anything in this place.
Julian signaled us to stop then, and I glanced at Random and he nodded. “If we don’t, he’ll just run us down,” he said. So I hit the brakes, slowed, stopped.
Morgenstern reared, pawed the air, struck the earth with all four hooves and cantered over. The dogs milled about, their tongues hanging out their sides heaving. The horse was covered with a glistening sheen that I knew to he perspiration.
“What a surprise!” said Julian, in his slow, almost impeded way of speaking and a great hawk that was black and green circled and settled upon his left shoulder.
“Yes, isn’t it,” I replied. “How have you been?”
“Oh, capital,” he decided, “as always. What of yourself and brother Random?”
“I’m in good shape,” I said, and Random nodded and remarked, “I thought you’d be indulging in other sports at a time like this.”
Julian tipped his head and regarded him crookedly, through the windshield.
“I enjoy slaughtering beasts,” he said, “and I think of my relatives constantly.”
A slight coldness worked its way down my back.
“I was distracted from my hunt by the sound of your motor vehicle,” he said. “At the time, I did not expect it to contain two such as you. I’d assume you are not simply riding for pleasure, but have a destination in mind, such as Amber. True?”
“True,” I agreed. “May I inquire why you are here, rather than there?”
“Eric set me to watching this road,” he replied, and my hand came to rest upon one of the pistols in my belt as he spoke. I had a feeling a bullet couldn’t breach that armor, though. I considered shooting Morgenstern.
“Well, brothers,” he said, smiling, “I welcome you back and I wish you a good journey. I’ll doubtless see you shortly in Amber. Good afternoon,” and with that he turned and rode toward the woods.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” said Random. “He’s probably planning an ambush or a chase,” and with this he drew a pistol from his belt and held it in his lap.
I drove on at a decent speed.
After about five minutes, when I was just beginning to breathe a bit easily, I heard the horn. I pushed down on the gas pedal. Knowing that he’d catch us anyhow, but trying to buy as much time and gain as much distance as I could. We skidded around corners and roared up hills and through dales. I almost hit a deer at one point, but we made it around the beast without cracking up or slowing.
The horn sounded nearer now, and Random was muttering obscenities.
I had the feeling that we still had quite a distance to go within the forest, and this didn’t hearten me a bit.
We hit one long straight stretch, where I was able to floor it for almost a minute. Julian’s horn notes grew more distant at that time. But we then entered a section where the road wound and twisted and I had to slow down. He began to gain on us at once again. After about six minutes, he appeared in the rear-view mirror, thundering along the road, his pack all around him, baying and slavering.
Random rolled down his window, and after a minute he leaned out and began to fire.
“Damn that armor!” he said. “I’m sure I hit him twice and nothing’s happened.”
“I hate the thought of killing that beast,” I said, “but try for the horse.”
“I already have, several times,” he said, tossing his empty pistol to the floor and drawing the other, “and either I’m a lousier shot than I thought, or it’s true what they say: that it will take a silver bullet to kill Morgenstern.”
He picked off six of the dogs with his remaining rounds, but there were still about two dozen left.
I passed him one of my pistols, and he accounted for five more of the beasts.
“I’ll save the last round,” he said, “for Julian’s head, if he gets close enough!”
They were perhaps fifty feet behind me at that point, and gaining, so I slammed on the brakes. Some of the dogs couldn’t halt in time, but Julian was suddenly gone and a dark shadow passed overhead.