“No, that’s fake, too.”
“Then the me that may exist tomorrow will thank me for it, as I do that other.”
“You are missing the point. That you will be fake, too.”
“Why?”
“Because it will still be full of those desires and strivings that set you apart from the Absolute.”
“What is wrong with that?”
“You remain alone in a world of strangers, the world of phenomena.”
“I like being alone. I am quite fond of myself. I like phenomena, too.”
“Yet the Absolute will always be there, calling to you, causing unrest.”
“Good, then there is no need to hurry. But yes, I see what you mean. It takes the form of ideals. Everyone has a few. If you are saying that I should pursue them, I agree with you.”
“No, they are distortions of the Absolute, and what you are talking about is more striving.”
“That is correct.”
“I can see that you have a lot to unlearn.”
“If you are talking about my vulgar instinct for survival, forget it.”
The trail had been leading upward, and we came now to a smooth, level place, almost paved-seeming, though strewn lightly with sand. The music had grown louder and continued to do so as I advanced. Then, through the fog, I saw dim shapes moving, slowly, rhythmically. It took several moments for me to realize that they were dancing to the music.
I kept moving until I could view the figures — human seeming, handsome folk, garbed in courtly attire — treading to the slow measures of invisible musicians. It was an intricate and lovely dance that they executed, and I halted to watch some of it.
“What is the occasion,” I asked Hugi, “for a party out here in the middle of nowhere?”
“They dance,” he said, “to celebrate your passage. They are not mortals, but the spirits of Time. They began this foolish show when you entered the valley.”
“Spirits?”
“Yes. Observe.”
He left my shoulder, flew above them and defecated. The dropping passed through several dancers as if they were holograms, without staining a brocaded sleeve or a silken shirt, without causing any of the smiling figures to miss a measure. Hugi cawed several times then and flew back to me.
“That was hardly necessary,” I said. “It is a fine performance.”
“Decadent,” he said, “and you should hardly take it as a compliment, for they anticipate your failure. They but wish to get in a final celebration before the show is closed.”
I watched for a time anyway, leaning upon my staff, resting. The figure described by the dancers slowly shifted, until one of the women — an auburn-haired beauty — was quite near to me. Now, none of the dancers’ eyes at any time met my own. It was as if I were not present. But that woman, in a perfectly timed gesture, cast with her right hand something which landed at my feet.
I stooped and found it substantial. It was a silver rose — my own emblem — that I held. I straightened and fixed it at the collar of my cloak. Hugi looked the other way and said nothing. I had no hat to doff, but I did bow to the lady. There might have been a slight twitch at her right eye as I turned to go.
The ground lost its smoothness as I walked, and finally the music faded. The trail grew rougher, and whenever the fogs cleared the only views were of rocks or barren plains. I drew strength from the Jewel when I would otherwise have collapsed, and I noted that each such fix was of shorter duration now.
After a time, I grew hungry and I halted to eat what rations I had left. Hugi stood on the ground nearby and watched me eat.
“I will admit to a certain small admiration for your persistence,” he said, “and even for what you implied when you spoke of ideals. But that is about it. Earlier, we were talking about the futility of desire and of striving —”
“You were. It is not a major concern in my life.”
“It should be.”
“I have had a long life, Hugi. You insult me by assuming I have never considered these footnotes to sophomore philosophy. The fact that you find consensus reality barren tells me more about you than it does about that state of affairs. To wit, if you believe what you say I feel sorry for you, in that you must for some inexplicable reason be here desiring and striving to influence this false ego of mine rather than free of such nonsense and on your way to your Absolute. If you do not believe it, then it tells me that you have been set to hinder and discourage me, in which case you are wasting your time.”
Hugi made a gargling noise. Then: “You are not so blind that you deny the Absolute, the beginning and end of everything?”
“It is not indispensable to a liberal education.”
“You admit the possibility?”
“Perhaps I know it better than you, bird. The ego, as I see it, exists at an intermediate stage between rationality and reflex existence. Blotting it out is a retreat, though. If you come from that Absolute — of a self-canceling All — why do you wish to go back home? Do you so despise yourself that you fear mirrors? Why not make the trip worthwhile? Develop. Learn. Live. If you have been sent on a journey why do you wish to cop out and run back to your point of departure? Or did your Absolute make a mistake in sending something of your caliber? Admit that possibility and that is the end of the news.”
Hugi glared at me, then sprang into the air and flew off. Going to consult his manual, perhaps…
I heard a peal of thunder as I rose to my feet. I began walking. I had to try to keep ahead of things.
The trail narrowed and widened a number of times before it vanished completely, leaving me to wander across a gravelly plain. I felt more and more depressed as I traveled, trying to keep my mental compass set in the proper direction. I almost came to welcome the sounds of the storm, for they at least gave me a rough idea as to which way was north. Of course, things were a bit confusing in the fog, so that I could not be absolutely certain. And they were growing louder… Damn.
…And I had been grieved by the loss of Star, troubled by Hugi’s futilitarianism. This was definitely not a good day. I began to doubt that I was going to complete my journey. If some nameless denizen of this dark place did not ambush me before too long, there was a strong possibility that I would wander here until my strength failed or the storm caught me. I did not know whether I would be able to beat back that canceling storm another time. I began to doubt it.
I tried using the Jewel to disperse the fog, but its effects seemed blunted. By my own sluggishness, perhaps. I could clear a small area, but my rate of travel quickly bore me through it. My sense of Shadow was dulled in this place which seemed in some way the essence of Shadow.
Sad. It would have been nice to go out with opera — in a big Wagnerian finale beneath strange skies, against worthy opponents — not scrabbling about in a foggy wasteland.
I passed a familiar-seeming outcrop of stone. Could I have been moving in a circle? There is a tendency to do that when completely lost. I listened for the thunder, to take my bearings again. Perversely, all was silent. I moved to the outcrop and seated myself on the ground, resting my back against it. No sense to merely wandering. I would wait a time for the thunder’s signal. I withdrew my Trumps as I sat there. Dad had said that they would be out of commission for a time, but I had nothing better to do.
One by one, I went through them all, trying to reach everyone, save for Brand and Caine. Nothing. Dad had been right. The cards lacked the familiar coldness. I shuffled the entire deck then and cast my fortune, there on the sand. I got an impossible reading and put them all away again. I leaned back and wished I had some water left. For a long while, I listened for the storm. There were a few growls, but they were directionless. The Trumps made me think of my family. They were up ahead — wherever that might be — waiting for me. Waiting for what? I was transporting the Jewel. To what end? At first, I had assumed that its powers might be necessary in the conflict. If so, and if I were indeed the only one who could employ them, then we were in bad shape. I thought of Amber then, and I was shaken with remorse and a kind of dread. Things must not end for Amber, ever. There had to be a way to roll back the Chaos…