bearded homunculi's hysterically funny and thoroughly incapacitating words, he found that he could not do so. The unrelenting, continuous spate of incorrigible raillery had him and his fanged associates virtually paralyzed with mirth.
'Believe me,' Wiliam chuckle-spoke to Oskar as the latter prepared to follow his companions into the depths of the vastly amusing forest, 'this isn't easy for me. But just because I don't share the overweening desire of my fellows to see who can outgiggle the next doesn't mean I'm incapable of jocularity myself. In fact, you might almost say that living alone and apart has sharpened my ability to blend harmoniously with a kingdom that rise and falls, lives and dies, on merriment.'
'Look—ha-ha-ha!—out!' Oskar shouted warningly.
As Wiliam whirled, Quoll slashed downward. But before his very real and unethereal, unspell-cast knife could strike, the little gnome delivered a punch line that caught the assassin square in his funny bone. The resultant involuntary cackle caused the quoll to clutch at his middle and bend double with laughter while crumpling to the ground. Behind him, Ruut and Ratha were writhing on the moist earth, caught up in paroxysms of unmanageable hysteria.
'Hurry!' Wiliam urged the laughing, weeping man staggering gratefully behind him. 'Slight sorcery is no match for strong humor, but there is a limit to what even a really good joke can accomplish.'
'How—har-har-hee!—how long can you—ho-ho-har!—keep this up?' Oskar gasped weakly.
'Long enough, I think,' Wiliam chortle-assured him. 'By the time you have crossed into the Kingdom of Yellow, Nugwot and his followers will be here. When they arrive, I can turn the restraining and joke-telling over to them. Go now, and in a quiet moment, when you are safe and secure, salute me with a drink—and try not to spit all over yourself when you are doing so.'
Barely able to nod, Oskar turned and hurried after his companions. As Wiliam's steady singsong of silliness faded behind him, swallowed up by exotic orange-tinted trees and flowers that were all leaning in the gnome's direction to partake of the inspired buffoonery, the dog-man gradually regained control of his emotions. So did his companions, though there were moments in the ensuing hours where Cezer might find himself meeting Taj's glance, or Mamakitty encountered Cocoa's, whereupon all concerned would burst out spontaneously at the recollection of what had just transpired.
'You know,' an aching Taj was saying much later, 'it occurs to me that if you substituted a cross-eyed cow for the Maid of Milkow in good Wiliam's last soliloquy, then the payoff would be not only twice as funny, but—'
'For Bubastis's sake,' Cocoa admonished him, 'don't make me laugh any more!' Wincing slightly, she clutched at her left side just below the lowermost rib. 'My insides already feel as if they've been taken apart and put back together again with string and spittle.'
'Maybe that's what's happened to Quoll and the other two.' As he picked his way through the forest, Cezer continued to groom gruesome little bits of red-orange goo out of his hair and clothing. While doing so, he lamented the fact that in his present form he could not reach certain multiple problem areas with his tongue. 'With luck, maybe Wiliam made them laugh so hard they exploded.'
From time to time they were distracted by a crashing or thumping in the woods behind them. At such moments they would draw their weapons and assume defensive postures and positions. Each time, it turned out to be nothing more than some eccentric forest dweller, chuckling and chortling its way through the weald. Catching sight of the travelers, it would invariably emit a burst of startled laughter before whirling and sprinting off in the opposite direction.
Even the food here was happy. Prey perished beneath their weapons with nary a scream, inevitably expiring with a smile on its face and a last, gasping giggle. Fruit coughed amusedly when plucked from vines or branches, and berries tittered in squeaky, high-pitched tones when popped between hungry teeth.
Making a face, Cocoa flung one snickering pit from her lips and chewed reluctantly on the sweet pulp that filled her mouth. 'The sooner we're out of these woods, the better I'll like it. I prefer my food dead silent, not mocking me as I eat.'
'Could be worse.' Oskar glanced back over a shoulder. 'It could fight back.'
'Let it fight,' she snapped at him. 'I
'Hush.' Mamakitty raised a hand, and those behind her slowed. 'I think the forest is opening up. The light is growing brighter, too.'
Conversation ceased as they made their way forward at a more cautious pace. Not knowing what to expect, they had learned in the course of crossing between two kingdoms to be ready for anything. Or so they thought. They were not prepared for the sight that greeted them as they stepped out of the thick foliage.
The daylight had certainly changed. Not only had it grown brighter, but their surroundings were now tinged with an intense lemony yellow. It was almost normal, and would have been more so had not the tawny tint overwhelmed all else: the brush and high grass that had replaced the forest, the lazy yellowish stream that flowed from north to south in front of them, the translucent flying creatures that soared high overhead in the depths of a saffron sky.
And the gigantic wall of massive cut limestone that paralleled the stream and completely blocked their way eastward.
Oskar had to tilt his head back to squint all the way to the top of the Brobdingnagian barrier. At first glance, it looked as solid as it was high. Closer inspection revealed that it was indeed constructed of impenetrable, immovable, yellowish rock. No facade raised by desperate magic, it had been piled up block by block to discourage intruders. It certainly discouraged Oskar and his companions.
'Can we go around it, do you think?' Mamakitty was gazing down the length of the wall.
'We certainly can't go over it.' Standing beside the little stream that ran along the base of the bulwark, Oskar cast an uneasy glance back the way they had come. Were Quoll and his vampiric companions even now being well and thoroughly marigolded by Nugwot and his followers, or had they managed to break free, and were they at this very moment racing through the forest to overtake their fleeing quarry?
'There was a time when I could have.' Taj sounded wistful.
'Over here!' Having hiked a little ways downstream from the others, Cezer was beckoning for them to join him.
'What is it?' Oskar called out, cupping his hands in front of his mouth. 'A way over?'
'Not over.' Cezer was standing up against the wall, nearly hidden by the oh-so-slight curvature of the barrier. 'But maybe through.'
The gate was massive. Fashioned of heavy wooden planks embellished with intricately carved whorls and spirals and braced with iron, it loomed over their heads, reaching almost to the top of the smooth-sided stone rampart. Mamakitty was the first to note the similarities among the numerous designs that decorated the wall.
'See?' With a finger she traced one particularly elaborate cochlear shape. 'Lines radiate from each corkscrew design, sometimes connecting multiple carvings. I think each one must, in one way or another, represent the sun.'
'There are dozens of different kinds.' Kneeling, Taj was examining a large disc form near the base of the gate. 'Here's one with a multitude of internal coils.'
'And here's another that shows some kind of flames spurting from the edge.' Cezer laughed. 'Whoever carved these didn't know what they were doing. I mean, certainly the sun is hot, but it's not on fire!'
'I suppose it's understandable that the people of this country pay a lot of attention to the sun.' Oskar was studying the cast iron hinges and bands that held the enormous doors together. 'After all, this is the Kingdom of Yellow.'
'A kingdom is a kingdom.' Retreating to the edge of the glistening rill, Cezer tilted back his head to study the top of the barrier. 'If I can climb half as well as I used to, I'm pretty certain I can make it to the top of this gate.'
'So am I,' concurred Mamakitty, 'and likely Cocoa as well. But where does that leave the others?'
'It's too much for me.' Oskar stood alongside Cezer. 'I never was much of a climber. Somehow I don't think I can dig under this fence, either.' As for Samm, the giant's comment on the barrier before them took the form of a single grunt. His thick fingers would never be able to gain a purchase on the grainy grouting between the stones or the thin cracks in the rocks themselves.
