Rod brightened. "Does that mean they're immune to your music?"
"Aye—but they have ancestors of their own."
Rod relaxed, reflecting that most of the children's local ancestors were not only still alive, but likely to remain so. Their more frail progenitors were thirty light-years away. "You know, I can't help wondering…"
"Poor fellow. Only listen to the music awhile, and it will cure thee of that malady."
"Yes, I don't doubt it. But, um, I was going to say—you are beginning to look a little weary."
The skeleton was silent for a minute, then admitted, "Aye. I feel the first faint edge of tiring. I am not so young as once I was, a hundred years agone."
"I kind of thought so. You're going to want to rest before too long."
"I doubt it not." The sigh was a gust of breeze. "Yet I have rested so long that I am loath to lie down again."
"Don't push it too hard." Rod glanced at the dancers with apprehension. "You may need a vacation from your holiday. "
"And if thou dost not, thy young folk will." Gwen gazed past the skeleton to the dancers, with concern. "Wilt thou never release them from this spell?"
"Only if they wish it—and I think that they will not. Be not troubled in thy heart, kind lady—there have ever been deadheads, and ever will be. In truth…" Its empty gaze lingered speculatively on Magnus and Cordelia.
"Don't even think it," Rod snapped. "Fear not. I can see that these have too much joy in thought; they would be loath to be deadheads."
Gregory tugged at Rod's sleeve. "Papa—dost thou recall? That pretentious prince did say that only the dead did know."
Rod looked up at the zombie, startled. "That's right, he did, didn't he? And here are the dead!"
"Of what dost thou speak?" asked the zombie.
"The music-rocks." Rod demanded. "Can you tell us where they came from?"
"Nay, only that I am right glad they did. Yet mayhap Destina would know." He turned his hollow eyes back toward the crowd, crying, "Destina, come!"
Cordelia frowned. "What is Destina?"
Another zombie came dancing out of the crowd toward them. From the tatters of a skirt and bodice adorning its bones, they could tell it must have been a woman once.
"Destina," said the leader. "Telclass="underline" Whence come the music-rocks?"
"Ah," said she, "the first did fall from the Sky Egg. But find and follow it"—she turned toward the Gallowglasses— "and belike thou shalt find… Why, so!"
"What?" They all gave her a blank look.
"A right comely lad!" Her bony hand reached out to chuck Magnus under the chin. "Art thou wed, sweet chuck?"
Magnus recoiled. "Nay!"
"He is too young," Gwen said, with steel in her voice.
"Wherefore? My first was a father by the time he had come to this height! Nay, I've need of another husband, handsome youth. Wilt thou come with me to wed?"
"Oh, no!" Magnus took another step backward. "Thou canst not mean it!"
"I doubt not she doth," the leader said. "Nay, come along with ifs, and taste life eternal!"
"I'm afraid she's not quite what I had in mind for a daughter-in-law…"Rod began.
"Thou shalt be of another mind when thou hast kissed me." The skull-face thrust closer to Magnus.
"Thou dost lie!" Magnus stumbled back. "Pray Heaven thou dost lie!"
"Come, essay it!" The leader reached out for Magnus, and Destina giggled and stepped forward. "We shall insist thou stay with us a while!"
"He most assuredly shall not!" Gwen stepped between her son and the zombie, arm raised—then hesitated.
"Do not, Mama." Magnus's voice trembled, but he persisted. "They are but poor and empty things!"
Gwen's mouth twitched. "I am loath to give hurt to ones who have, at long last, gained so pitiful a measure of pleasure."
"Measure of pleasure!" The leader lifted his skull, eyes lighting. "A measure of pleasure! Aye, a measure indeed!" And he began to beat a rhythm on his pelvis and a tune on his rib cage, chanting,
"He shall have a measure, A quantity of pleasure! Let him with us tarry, Dally and be merry!"
Magnus swallowed. "Said he, 'be merry,' or 'be-marry'?"
"Now, come!" The leader sprang at Magnus.
The lad leaped back as his father leaned in; the skeleton slammed into Rod's chest and fell in a jumble of bones.
"What hast thou done!" Destina keened.
"More to the point, what should we be doing?" Rod corrected.
The leader began to pull himself together.
"I am loath to fight them." Coming from Geoffrey, that was saying a great deal.
"What else can we do?" Cordelia asked.
The leader rose up, singing,
"We can run!" Rod shooed them away from him.
They ran.
The zombies yelped with joy and bounded into a bone-shaking chase.
"Where can we go?" Gregory panted.
"Where but straight ahead!" Magnus outdistanced them all.
"Fly!" Gwen commanded. "Lest thou dost break thy leg in a fall!"
They all rose up a foot off the ground, skimming along as fast as they dared in unknown country. Behind them, the young people added their enthusiastic shouting to the chase. The music-rocks picked up the excitement, and began to boom and howl all about them.
Then, suddenly, they crested a rise—and found themselves in a cul-de-sac, a box canyon, surrounded by stone on all sides.
"Back!" Magnus whirled about. "Out from this place, ere our pursuers…"
The mouth of the canyon filled with walking bones and bonny youths.
"Too late." Rod spread his arms, trying to shield his whole family. Before them, the crowd advanced with glee and stones, holding out rocks that were racketing with an unholy din.
Then the noise began to beat at them from the back.
"It doth echo off the cliff walls!" Cordelia called.
"Nay," Magnus shouted, "they do take it up!"
It was true. The canyon walls had begun to vibrate in sympathy, resonating and re-emitting the music of the stones.
"What can we do now!" Gregory wailed. "We are caught between their rocks and a hard place!"
"We can fly!" Gwen snapped.
On the word, Cordelia's broomstick took off like a rocket. All three boys shot up after her, with Rod and Gwen right behind them.
Below, a disappointed moan filled all the canyon.
The music dwindled behind and below them.
"Praise Heaven!" Magnus shuddered. "I feared I would have to dismember them!"
"Where shall we go now?" Geoffrey asked.
Rod looked up with a sudden smile. "Hey! We're in the right place to look for it…"
"For what?" Gwen asked.
"That female zombie said something about following a Sky Egg!"
"But how can there be an egg in the sky?" Gregory said reasonably.
"Mayhap she meant the moon," Cordelia suggested.
"An that be so," Gwen pointed out, "we must wait—for the moon hath set."
"All right, I suppose we should"—Rod sighed— "especially since I'm afraid she didn't mean the moon but just that blimp we've been following."
"Why—'tis so!" Cordelia said, surprised.
"Even so," Geoffrey agreed. "Dost recall that when first I saw it I said 'twas a giant egg?"
"It seems to run all through this terrain," Rod growled.
"Have we come in a circle, then?" Gwen asked.
"Traid so, dear—and we'll have to break out of it, tomorrow. But for tonight, let's get some sleep. Pick a good camping place. Sorry about that bed you wanted."