more natural than that everyone should be red-tempered?'
'I fear there will be many times before this search is over when we're going to have to suppress our natural instincts and think and act the reverse of what is normal.' Her musk was subtle and distinctive in his nostrils. With a start, he realized that the drovers and their dray animals had hardly any body odor at all.
'Easy to say,' Oskar commented. 'But which 'natural instincts' do we repress? Mine are canine, yours are feline, and Taj and Samm's instincts are completely different from either. Do we repress those instincts, or those of humans, or both?'
It not being any easy question, she had no ready reply for him. 'Well, for a start, try to remember not to pee on anybody's leg.'
He responded with a sour smile. 'Thanks, Cocoa. I think I could have figured that one out for myself.' Silently, he started looking for a bush to complete the business that had begun to preoccupy another part of his thoughts.
'It's very nice to meet you, and we'll be glad to follow you into this Pyackill, and to listen to any other advice you have to impart.' Mamakitty nodded at Samm. 'Give him back his cudgel.'
Baldrup accepted the club with a thankful nod, hefted it briefly, and considered its proximity to Mamakitty's head.
'Don't do it,' she warned him as she took a step back. 'I'll scratch your eyes out.'
The drover looked hurt. 'Oh, well. If you want to be formal about things.' Picking up the knotted ends of the net-like reins, he pursed rubbery lips and blew a sharp whistle. The low-slung, lumbering dray animals lurched forward, and the wagon began to move again. Not wishing to become too painfully chummy with their newfound friends, the travelers were careful to keep close to the vehicle but well beyond arm's length.
Pyackill was more city than town. It reminded Mamakitty and Oskar of the visit they had once made to Zelevin in the company of Master Evyndd. There were more people and activity in one place than either of them had ever seen before. Suffused in the local tones of red, it projected an air of normalcy they had not experienced since the Mundurucu had banished color from the Gowdlands. As for the other travelers, from Cocoa to Samm they were overwhelmed by the profusion of unfamiliar sights and sounds and smells.
'And I used to think that the world was a big place when Master Evyndd let us roam the forest beyond the yard fence.' As Cocoa marveled at the multistoried buildings of red brick, the peaked slate roofs, and the hard squarish stones that paved the streets, she had to fight down the urge to go climbing.
'Think how Samm and I must feel.' Taj indicated the bustling two-way traffic flow of massed humans and animals and beings he did not recognize. 'At least all of you were allowed out of the house. We were but rarely let out of our cages, and that always inside.'
'There is so much more to see.' The giant trod behind the wagon, careful where he put his feet lest he step on some unwary citizen. He was still getting used to legs as a means of locomotion.
'Especially from your vantage point, so unlike that of the worm's-eye view you had before,' Cezer indelicately pointed out.
Samm was not offended. 'No, that is not so very different. If you will remember, when Master Evyndd used to let me out of my cage, I was fond of ascending to the very top shelves of the kitchen and resting there.'
'I can attest to that.' Taj gave his new companion a tentative jab in the ribs that the giant hardly felt. 'It wasn't very comforting to have you staring at me eye to eye from across the room.'
Samm gazed down at the much smaller songster. 'I could never reach your cage. The gap was always too great. Master Evyndd knew that.' He smiled reassuringly. The expression came naturally to him, since snakes are very good at smiling. 'Anyway, you never really tempted me. You weren't enough of a meal to be worth the effort.' From behind, he gave Cezer a nudge that sent the other man stumbling. 'In
'Very enlightening. And quit staring at me.'
'Sorry.' The giant averted his gaze. 'I wasn't aware that I was.'
'Though I have little personal experience of such things, this seems to be a prosperous community.' Ignoring her companions' irrelevant verbal byplay, Mamakitty was studying their surroundings, absorbing the look and feel and smell of everything they passed. For their part, they drew a few stares of their own, mostly due to Samm's unignorable presence among them.
'Oh yes.' Baldrup smiled down at her. 'Pyackill is the most important trading center in this part of the kingdom. Everyone who is anyone comes to Pyackill.' Reaching over, he smacked her on the back of her neck. Thick black curls cushioned the impact somewhat. Rubbing the place where the drover had made contact, she did not hesitate to punch him in the leg. He was plainly delighted by the blow.
'And beyond Pyackill,' Oskar inquired curiously. 'What lies beyond here?'
'You really are strangers, aren't you?' Snicklie rubbed his squashed nose with the flat of one hand, making squeaking noises. 'The kingdom stretches as far as one can imagine to north and south. To the west,' he pointed, 'it goes for only a short distance before fading into the Sere Desert, where it is too hot for anything to survive.'
'Hotter than this?' Taj had just finished taking a sip from his water bag. In general, he dipped less frequently into his supplies than did his companions. This was only to be expected, since he drank like a bird.
'Hotter than you can imagine. Too hot even to breathe. Nothing lives there.' Leaning over the side of the wagon, Snicklie spat something pinkish into the street, just missing an outraged pedestrian. 'To the east is the Kingdom of Orange.'
Oskar nodded thoughtfully. 'That would make sense. And beyond that I presume there are other kingdoms both distinctive of and defined by color?'
Snicklie made a face within a face. 'I wouldn't know about that. My brother-in-law and I are simple farmers, not world travelers.'
'What seek you here?' In spite of the seeming handicap imposed by his stunted arms, Baldrup was doing a skilled job of directing the wagon through increasingly boisterous traffic.
'White light. A baneful hex has banished all the color from our kingdom. We have been charged by our former master with returning it. To do that we have determined that we need to bring back to our kingdom as much white light as we can carry, since white light contains all the colors that are now absent.'
The two homunculi exchanged a doubtful glance. 'I don't see how such a thing is possible.' Snicklie was leaning over, but despite his feelings of sympathy, he did not strike out at Oskar. 'Even if it is, you won't find what you're looking for here. There is no color in the Kingdom of Red but red.'
'That is the way of things, and how they should be.' Baldrup hesitated but briefly before continuing. 'Though on business I myself once crossed the border to visit the Kingdom of Orange.'
'What was it like?' Cocoa asked him.
'Personally, I found it chilly, and the folk there not very friendly. There is little commerce between our two kingdoms, though we get on well enough with one another. They keep to themselves, and we to ours, which suits us both.' He was nodding absently to himself. 'Colors should not mix.'
'Oh, I don't know about that.' Cocoa looked thoughtful. 'If you mix red with—'
Mamakitty cut her off with a warning look. 'Now Cocoa, we're here as visitors, as guests. We don't want to offend anybody's beliefs.'
Cocoa was not so easily silenced. 'Color isn't a belief. Color is—just color. Mixing them doesn't hurt—'
'What lies beyond the Kingdom of Orange?' Oskar asked hastily.
'I don't know.' Baldrup shrugged broad shoulders. 'There are rumors, and I hear stories. Some are hard to credit.' His smile returned as he chucked the shards of net rein gripped in his left hand. 'Red I have always been, red I will always be, and red-on-red is good enough for me.'
'Greetings, visitors! Buy my fresh produce?' An old crone with a remarkably attenuated face held out a small, triangular fruit from the oversize sack balanced on her bent back. Or maybe she was an old crow. Attempting to estimate the length of her astonishing beak, Oskar couldn't be sure.
'I'm not hungry,' replied Cezer, keeping aloof.
'Well, you look like a nice biped. Have a taste on me.' She passed him the fruit with one withered hand and struck him square in the snout with the other.
'Why, you vicious old bitch!' Startled and hurt, Cezer raised his fist to strike back. Oskar noted the elderly peddler's expectant smile.
'Go on, Cezer—hit her. One good turn deserves another.' He was smiling hugely at his companion's
