She was groaning now (- groan, she had said) and they were striking hard at each other, near, so near, the shudder growing within him, and the moment had…
She wrenched herself off him then, hard and without warning, and stood on the bed looking down at him, composed, unruffled, and the aquamarines were filled with triumph.
– It is Liv who breaks the bond, she said.
Liv’s revenge on Grimus, plotted in centuries of darkened, still-seated brooding. Now, possessed, entranced, she had wrought it on his Spectre. It was a very final humiliation, hitting him in the core of his carnal pride, the only pride he had left. He looked up at the towering Valkyrie, staring at him with the full force of her century-festered hate, and helplessly, miserably, his body roused beyond his control, spilt his sterile seed upon the sheets.
Virgil Jones had slept squatting on the outcrop. Flapping Eagle was curled into a foetal ball against the wall of the black house. When they awoke, the damp had seeped into their bones. They shivered.
It was the cry that woke them, a half-frightened, half-elated yell from the wood. Flapping Eagle was awake at once and running in the direction of the voice. Virgil, slower, bulkier, followed him, blinking rapidly.
Media stood at the edge of the wood, her arms trembling but her hands clasped rigidly together.
Trapped between her arms was the surly, draggled figure of Bird-Dog.
Brother and sister stood still a moment, taking stock.
– Tell this stupid woman to let me go, little brother.
Her voice was unfriendly.
– I saw her appear, Flapping Eagle, said Media tremulously. Like a spectre. I saw her appear so I caught her. I thought you’d, you’d want to see her.
It had been a brave thing to do.
Bird-Dog said: -If you saw me appear, don’t you think I could just as easily disappear? You’d be left clutching thin air.
Media looked doubtful, but didn’t release her hold.
– She’s right, Media, said Flapping Eagle. If she’s here, it’s because she wants to be. Let her go and perhaps we’ll find out why.
– I don’t want to be here, said Bird-Dog roughly. If he hadn’t sent me I would never have come.
– Grimus sent you? It was Virgil’s voice, blank, disbelieving.
– Not for you, she said. For him. Little Joe-Sue. It’s none of my doing, little brother. Remember that.
Grimus actually wants to see me, thought Flapping Eagle. There will be no battle of wills.
– Why? Again, it was Virgil Jones who spoke Flapping Eagle’s thoughts.
– Don’t ask me why, said Bird-Dog, shaking herself free of Media’s constricting embrace. I have a message to deliver, and then I am to take him back with me.
Media was about to speak, but remained silent, She looked worried.
– Well, then, said Flapping Eagle. Deliver your message.
As Bird-Dog began to speak in a memorized, sing-song voice, a figure in a black robe and hood came out of the black house to listen.
Grimus says: -Thank you all for your efforts. I have derived a great deal of pleasure from watching you. To Virgil, I owe my apologies. I have been playing a game of hide and seek with him. Slightly cruel, possibly, but necessary.
It is to Liv Sylwan Jones that I owe my greatest thanks. She has set the seal on Mr Eagle, who is therefore prepared at last to meet me. He knows about me now, intimately, I think. And more important, he has moved from a state of what I should call self-consciousness to a state of what I would humbly term Grimus-consciousness. That is a good state in which to meet me, and I must once again thank you alclass="underline" the absent Nicholas Deggle for making the meeting possible, you, Virgil, for leading him so astutely towards a confrontation with me, and you, Liv, for breaking down the last barrier to that meeting: his masculinity. In a sense, Liv, you were the Gate, as far as he is concerned. Now that he has passed you, he may come to me. I am very thrilled: perhaps this is my Perfect Dimension, after all.
Bird-Dog stopped and lowered her head. -Shall we go now? she said. To Flapping Eagle, the sight of this servile Bird-Dog, a grumbling, malcontented but totally subservient menial, was a shock and an upset. This was not the sister who had foraged for his food, who had raised and protected him. This was a shadow of the Bird-Dog he had known. What had Grimus done to her?
Liv raised her hood a small way and spat viciously on the ground before her.
Virgil Jones fussed at Flapping Eagle: -Don’t forget. Wait your moment.
But life no longer seemed entirely clear-cut to Flapping Eagle. Curiosity and last night’s humiliation were creeping over his resolve.
Media came up to Flapping Eagle and said quietly: -Take me, too.
Flapping Eagle was no longer surprised by anything. -Why, Media? he asked.
She shrugged.
Flapping Eagle found himself saying: -Yes. All right. Come with me. Perhaps it was because he felt the need of a friendly face on the journey into the unknown. Perhaps it was a reaction to the night with Liv, a need to reassure himself. He didn’t bother to examine his motives, but he realized he was glad she was coming. As for Media, her face had suddenly broken into sunlight.
Bird-Dog said: -Not her. Just you.
Flapping Eagle found a drop of strength.
– Big sister, he said. You’re supposed to lead me to Grimus. Now I’m not coming unless she does. So You’ll just have to take us both.
With bad grace, Bird-Dog gave in.
– Follow me, she said.
Flapping Eagle clasped Media’s hand, tightly. The returned pressure was even more fierce. -I will think about you, she said, and only you. While I do that, nothing can harm me.
He realized that she was exactly, precisely right.
Bird-Dog walked ahead of them to a spot just behind the first trees. She closed her eyes and muttered: -Sispi, Sispi. She became transparent. She nearly disappeared, but the faintest outline of her moved a step to the right and waited. Media’s eyes widened; then she closed them and tightened her lips.
Flapping Eagle led her to the Gate.
Virgil Jones and Liv watched the three faint outlines walk away up the rising slope of the mountain, walking miraculously where there was no path to walk on, until they were lost to sight. They were so slight that it did not take long for this to happen.
Liv turned and went back into the black house, slamming the door.
And Virgil? Virgil knew that there was no longer anything he could do, that after all the Gorfs prophecy had come true. Flapping Eagle had reached Grimus without his help, and who knew what the result would be? There was nothing to be done now.
He started down the mountain, back to the beach, back to Dolores O’Toole and the jigsaws, the rocking-chair and the shreds of his helpless dignity.
*Ishould note that the Arabic letter in question has no exact parallel in the Roman alphabet. It is more usually rendered as Q (Qâf)-but it is, in fact, a glottal-stop for which there is no accurate rendering. I have chosen to refer to it as K (Kâf) and risk confusion with the quite distinct letter Kaf, for the simple reason that it is the only way I can pronounce it. A purist would not forgive me, but there it is.
LV The Stone Rose
FLAPPING EAGLE AND Media (when she opened her eyes) found themselves on a strangely transmuted Calf Mountain, a Calf Mountain in which Virgil, Liv, Liv’s house, even Liv’s donkey were reduced to wraith-like wisps, in which the outcrop remained, and the forest, both feeling different though they looked the same. Perhaps the most shocking change, harder to accept even than the ghosts of Virgil and Liv, lay above them. The clouds had vanished from the mountain’s summit. Flapping Eagle was surprised to find that the mountain was lower than he had imagined; the cumulus cocoon had made it seem much higher than it was. The summit lay only a few hundred feet above them.