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"I don't think he would thank us," said Jherek. "We must wait until he crashes."

They were flying over a landscape Jherek could not remember having seen before. It looked edible and was therefore probably something Argonheart Po had made. There were whole villages, after the Gentraxian fashion, set among wobbling clumps of golden trees.

"Mmm." The Iron Orchid smacked her lips. "I feel quite hungry again. Could we not taste…?"

"No time," Jherek told her. "I think I heard the harp again."

The sky suddenly darkened and they sped through absolute blackness for a moment. Below them, they could detect the sound of a savage sea.

"We must be quite close to Werther's tower," My Lady Charlotina suggested, rearranging one of her several breasts, which had come loose.

And sure enough when the sky lightened to reveal boiling black clouds, there was Werther's mile-high monument to his moody ego.

"Those are the rocks," said My Lady Charlotina, pointing at the base of the tower, "where we found his body — dashed to fragments. Lord Jagged resurrected him. It took ages to gather all the pieces."

Jherek remembered Sweet Orb Mace. If she had really fallen off the precipice, they should not leave her too long before restoring her.

The sun was shining again; the downs were green. "There's the Earl of Carbolic's 'Tokyo, 1901,' " cried the Iron Orchid. "What beautiful colours."

"All reproductions of the original sea-shells," Bishop Castle murmured knowingly.

The landau, dutifully following the Duke of Queens, veered suddenly and began to head towards the ground.

"He's down!" shouted Bishop Castle. "Near that forest over there."

"Is he hurt, Bishop?" The Iron Orchid was on the far side of the car.

"No. I can see him moving. He does not seem to be in a very good temper. He's hitting the ornithopter."

"Poor thing." My Lady Charlotina gasped as the landau bumped suddenly to earth.

Jherek left the carriage and began to walk towards the Duke of Queens. The Duke's hat was askew and one of his leggings was torn, but he was now, in all other respects, his normal self. He cast the spear aside, pushed back his hat, placed his hands on his hips and grinned at Jherek. "Well, it was a good chase, eh?"

"Very stimulating. Your ornithopter is useless?"

"Utterly."

The Duke of Queens felt it a point of pride to fly, for the most part, only authentic reproductions of ancient machines. He had often been counselled against the idea, but remained adamant — and much bruised.

"Can we take you back to your castle?" My Lady Charlotina asked.

"I'm not giving up. I'll continue the Hunt on foot. He'll be in those woods somewhere." The Duke inclined his head in the direction of the nearby elms, cedars and mahoganies. "My beaters will bring him towards us, if we're lucky. Will you come with me?"

Jherek shrugged. "Willingly."

They all began to march towards the woods and had gone a fair way before Bishop Castle lifted the deceptor-gun he still held in his hand. "I'm sorry, I still have your antique. Shall I take it back, Jherek?"

"Bring it with you," said Jherek. "It might be useful in snaring the alien if we see him."

"Good thinking," said the Duke of Queens approvingly.

The wood was silent but for the faintest rustle of the leaves and the soft sounds of their footfalls on green, glowing moss. The trees smelled rich and sweet.

"Oh, isn't it eerie ?" said My Lady Charlotina in breathless delight. "A genuine old-fashioned Magic Wood. I wonder who made it."

Jherek noticed that the quality of the light had changed subtly, so that it was now a late summer evening; also the wood seemed to extend much further than he had at first supposed.

"It must be Lord Jagged's." Bishop Castle removed his hat and stood leaning against it for a moment. "Only he can capture this particular quality."

"It does have Jagged's touch," agreed the Iron Orchid, and she passed her arm through her son's.

"Then we must watch for mythical beasts," said the Duke of Queens. "Kangaroos and the like, if I know Jagged."

The Iron Orchid squeezed Jherek's arm. "I think it's getting darker," she whispered.

6. The Brigand Musicians

The foliage above their heads was now so thick that hardly any light came through at all. The silence had deepened and, scarcely realizing what they were doing, they all crept as quietly as possible over the moss, gently pushing aside the low branches which increasingly blocked their way.

My Lady Charlotina took Jherek's other arm, murmuring animatedly: "We are like the babes in the bush. Do you think we will be lost , Jherek?"

"It would be wonderful if we were," said the Iron Orchid, but Jherek said nothing. For some reason, the mysterious wood had a healing effect upon his emotions. He felt much calmer; more at ease than he had been for a long while. He wondered why the thought had occurred to him that he was, in this wood, somehow much closer to Mrs. Underwood. He peered through the shadowy gloom, half-expecting to see her in her grey dress and straw hat, standing beside the bole of a cedar or a pine, smiling at him, ready to continue where she had left off with what she termed his "moral education."

Only the Duke of Queens was unaffected by the atmosphere. He paused, tugging at his black beard, and he frowned.

"The beaters must have detected something," he complained. "Why haven't we heard them?"

"The forest does seem to be rather larger than we had at first supposed." Bishop Castle tapped his fingers against the barrel of the deceptor-gun. "Could we be walking in the wrong direction, I wonder?"

Jherek and the two ladies had also stopped. Jherek himself was in something of a trance. It had been in a wood not dissimilar to this one where Mrs. Amelia Underwood had kissed him, admitting, at last, her love for him — and from a wood like this one she had been whisked away, back to her own time. For a moment he considered the notion that Lord Jagged and My Lady Charlotina had planned a surprise for him, but it was obvious from My Lady Charlotina's behaviour that she had known nothing about this wood before they had discovered it. Jherek took a deep breath of the air. The predominant smell, he supposed, was of earth.

"What was that?" The Duke of Queens cupped a hand to his ear. "A harp, was it?"

Bishop Castle had abandoned his hat altogether now. He scratched his red locks, turning this way and that. "I think you're right, my dear Duke. Music, certainly. But it could be birds."

"The song of the rabbit," gasped My Lady Charlotina, romantically clasping her various hands over her multitude of breasts. "To hear it in these woods is to become Primordial Man — experiencing the exact emotions He experienced all those millions of years ago!"

"You are in a lyrical mood indeed, my lady," lazily suggested Bishop Castle, but it was obvious that he, too, was infected by the atmosphere. He raised the hand in which he held the heavy deceptor-gun. "I think the sound came from that direction."

"We must go extremely quietly," said the Iron Orchid, "to be sure not to disturb either the alien or any wildlife." Jherek suspected that she did not care a jot about disturbing the animals — she merely desired the same uninterrupted peace which he had been enjoying. He confirmed her words by means of a grave nod.

A little later they detected a haze of dancing crimson light ahead of them and they proceeded with even greater caution.

And then the music began.

It dawned on Jherek, after a few moments, that this was the most beautiful music he had ever heard. It was profound, stately and very moving, it hinted at harmonies beyond the harmonies of the physical universe, it spoke of ideals and emotions which were magnificent in their sanity, their intensity and their humanity; it took him through despair and he no longer despaired, through pain and he no longer felt pain, through cynicism and he knew the exhilaration of hope; it showed him what was ugly and it was no longer ugly; he was dragged into the deepest chasms of misery only to be lifted higher and higher until his body, mind and feelings were in perfect balance and he knew an immeasurable ecstasy.