"Impossible dreams come into my head too, sometimes," said Glyneth. "They confuse me and even frighten me. Still, how can I help but love you, who are so brave and kind and gentle?"
Kul gave a mirthless laugh. "So I was intended to be." He turned away and gave his attention to Visbhume. "I would kill you at this moment, except that we still need your guidance. How goes the direction of the moon?"
Visbhume painfully rose to his feet. "What if I guide you correctly?"
"You will be allowed to live." Visbhume showed the caricature of an airy and confident smile. "I will accept that condition. The black moon is close on the quaver. You have loitered overlong."
"Then let us be away."
Visbhume made as if to take up his wallet, but Glyneth ordered him to stand back. She reduced the cottage, packed it away. The three climbed aboard the wole and once again rode toward the pink star, now almost in contact with the black moon.
As before, Glyneth rode the high seat in the pergola, Kul crouched by the wole's horns and Visbhume sat at the hindquarters, looking to the side with eyes as liquid and large as those of a lemur. Glyneth rode in a welter of a dozen emotions, and any one of them, so she felt, might bring her heartbreak. Despite the salves and powders, Kul was not the Kul of old; perhaps, thought Glyneth, he had lost too much blood, for now his skin had taken on a pallor and the crispness had gone from his movements. She sighed, thinking of her return to Earth. Already Tanjecteriy had become the reality and Earth the fanciful land behind the clouds.
League after league fell astern to the thrust of the wole's running legs, and now the road led across the Plain of Lilies. In the distance appeared a line of low hills, a town of gray houses and, somewhat to the north, a low flat dome of gleaming gray-silver metal.
Visbhume came to stand by the pergola. He spoke to Glyneth: "My dear, I will need the almanac, that I may find the great axis."
Glyneth removed the key from its socket and handed the almanac to Visbhume, who read the text with attention, then studied a small detail map.
"Aha!" said Visbhume. "Fare to the side of the dome; we should see a platform, and thereon an iron post."
Glyneth pointed. "I see the platform! I see the post!"
"Then forward in haste! The black moon has sounded the pulse, and here the time is short, without pause or rest."
At best speed the wole coursed across the countryside and arrived at the side of the dome. "That is an old temple, which may well be deserted now," said Visbhume. "On to the platform. Glyneth, the key!"
"Not yet," said Glyneth. "And in any event I will use the key."
Visbhume made an annoyed chattering sound. "That is not as I planned; it is impractical!"
"Nevertheless, you shall not pass until both Kul and I are safely through the portal."
"Bah!" whispered Visbhume. "Then up to the platform, and halt!... Glyneth, alight! Kul, down from your perch! To the post!"
Glyneth went to the steps leading up to the platform. Kul wearily stepped down to the ground and followed. Visbhume pulled the pipes from his pocket and played a shrill discordant arpeggio. The wole bellowed in rage and lowering its head charged down upon Kul. Visbhume came dancing with knees high, blowing tones at angry discord. Kul tried to jerk aside, but the spring was gone from his legs. The wole hooked him with its horns, and tossed him high.
Glyneth ran crying back down to the limp form. She looked up at Visbhume in horror and hatred. "You have betrayed us once again!"
"No more than you! Look at me! I am Visbhume! You call endearments to this creature who is half a beast, and only partly a man; it is unnatural! Yet you scorn me, the proud and noble Visbhume!"
Glyneth ignored him. "Kul lives! Help me with him!"
"Never! Are you mad?"
"Now quickly! He lives."
"shall I call the wole to trample him?"
Glyneth looked up in horror. "No!"
"Tell me: who is Dhrun's mother? Tell me!"
Kul whispered: "Tell him nothing."
"No," said Glyneth. "I will tell him; it can make no great difference. Suldrun was Dhrun's mother and Aillas his father."
"How is that possible, with Dhrun now twelve years old?"
"A year in the fairy shee is like ten years of life elsewhere."
Visbhume gave a crow of exultation. "That is the knowledge I have been seeking!" He snatched the key from Glyneth's hands, and jumped back as if dancing to some surging music heard by himself alone. He made a flamboyant flourish. "Truly, Glyneth, what a little fool you are! If you had spoken long ago, we would have been saved both toil and pain, from which I profit not at all! Little does Casmir care! He will only commend me for the results and call me efficient.
"Now then: will you come to Earth in a submissive manner, and there do my bidding?"
Glyneth fought to keep her voice under control. "I cannot leave Kul!" She turned her head so as not to look at Visbhume. "Take us both safely to Earth, and I will do your bidding."
Visbhume judiciously held high his finger. "No! Kul must stay! He has treated me with contumacy; he must be punished. Come, Glyneth!"
"I will not leave without him."
"So be it! Remain here and cherish this beast you love with so peculiar a passion! Give me now my wallet!"
"I will not give over the wallet."
"Then I will blow a blast on my pipes."
"And I will throw a Tormentor bulb at you. I should have done so before!"
Visbhume uttered a curse, but dared delay no longer. "I am away for Earth, where I will enjoy honours and wealth; goodbye!"
Visbhume leapt up to the platform, struck with his key, and disappeared from view.
Glyneth knelt beside Kul, who lay with eyes closed. Glyneth stroked his forehead. "Kul, can you hear me?"
"I can hear you."
"I am here with you. Can you manage to climb upon the wole? We will take you to a quiet place in the forest and you shall rest until you are well."
Kul opened his eyes. "The wole is an uncertain creature. It has done me a great harm."
"Only at the bidding of Visbhume's pipes. Otherwise it seems an orderly creature, and it runs well."
"That is true. Well then, let me see if I can climb on its back."
"I will help you."
Attracted by the activity, folk from the town had started to gather and some of them began to jeer Glyneth's attempts to help Kul. Glyneth paid the crowd no heed, and finally Kul half-climbed, half-fell aboard the wole. Now the crowd moved in close and surrounded the wole and started to pluck tassels from the rug. Glyneth brought a Tormentor bulb from the wallet and tossed it into the crowd, which immediately dispersed amid cries of pain, and the wole was free to go its way.
An hour later Glyneth took the wole veering across a meadow and behind a copse, where she dropped anchor and set up the house. Kul for a period lay in a daze, and Glyneth watched him anxiously. Was her imagination playing her tricks, or were odd changes occurring within Kul, causing his expression to move and change and at times even blur?
Kul opened his eyes to find Glyneth watching him. He spoke in a soft drained voice. "I have had strange dreams. When I try to remember, my head swims." He made a fretful movement and started to raise himself, but Glyneth pushed him back. "Lie quietly, Kul Rest, and never mind the dreams!"
Kul closed his eyes and spoke in his vague soft voice: "Murgen spoke to me. He said that I must guard you and bring you back safe to the hut. It is proper that I love you, because that is my reason for being alive. But you must not waste your emotion on me. I am half-beast, and one of the voices I hear is the voice of the feroce. Another voice is reckless and cruel, and it urges me to unspeakable deeds. The third voice is the strongest and when it speaks the others are still."