spread his arms wide. His shadow, a permanent fixture of his life, an unshakable companion of both his human and canine forms, was gone.
'Dead.' With the lowering sun directly behind him, he stared at the unshadowed ground.
'So it would seem.' Having set her kwavin aside in imitation of her bold companion, Cocoa stood next to him, slowly waving her own arms up and down. 'Not only yours, but mine as well, and doubtless all of ours.'
'Of course they're dead!' A triumphant Cezer saw no point in belaboring the obvious. 'We tore 'em to pieces. Why the long faces? A shadow is of no use. It's a parasite, a carbuncle on the spirit. Me, I'm glad to be rid of mine.' He examined the human nails that had once again taken the place of sharp claws. 'Next time I'm stalking a bird or a mouse, I won't have to worry about the damn thing giving me away.'
Oskar looked at Mamakitty. 'Is this permanent, do you think?'
She regarded the small yellow-green stream that ran through the little valley at the base of the hill. 'Difficult to say, Oskar. It would seem so, but shadows are resilient things. All I know is that in our own country, after they have been gone for a while, they have a way of coming back to haunt you when their presence is least expected.'
He weighed this observation, then nodded slowly. 'I'll keep that in mind. Just as I'll remember not to take mine for granted should it ever put in an appearance again.' Together, they started down the gentle slope. 'I don't suppose a restored or resurrected shadow that had been violently slain would have the sense or inclination to seek revenge, would it?'
Mamakitty's shoulders rose and fell ever so slightly. 'Who knows what a shadow thinks? Who knows if a shadow thinks? Best not to dwell on that which we cannot control.' She lengthened her stride a little, ignoring the occasional rock that pimpled the hillside. Tripping was something that did not concern her, Oskar knew. Cats did not trip.
She was right, of course. His shadow, all their shadows, were dead, slain in combat. No longer would the dark outlines familiar from birth provide hazy company on a sunny day. By the same token, no longer would they pose a threat—unless they returned, reconstituted by processes he could never hope to understand, and full of…
Full of what? A desire for retribution? Indifference toward what had happened? A sly craving to bide their time? As he loped a little faster to keep up with Mamakitty and the others, he found it hard not to think about the thing she had advised him not to think about. Shadow present or shadow defunct, one thing he did know for certain.
He determined never again, for as long as he lived, to fall asleep in direct sunlight.
THIRTEEN
This time there was no unclimbable wall to mark the boundary between kingdoms, nor a broad and swift river to cross. There was only the small, slow-flowing brook that filled the slight crease in the earth between the kingdom of Yellow and the Kingdom of Green. Their progress through the kingdoms of light continued unabated, Mamakitty noted with satisfaction, and despite their difficulties they had lost not one of their number to hostilities, natural disasters, or magic. She felt confident of their prospects and regretted only the continuing inability to properly clean herself.
Unchallenged and with the way ahead unobstructed, they entered into the Kingdom of Green by the simple expedient of wading across the shallow stream. In the previous traversing of three kingdoms of light, there had always been something of note to observe in the crossing, and this one was no exception. The water on the near side of the stream was distinctively yellow, while halfway across it changed to an unambiguous pale green.
Pausing in the middle of the runnel, a delighted Taj stood with one leg immersed in saffron-hued water while liquid of a distinctly limeish hue eddied around the other. Reaching down, he deliberately swirled some together. They merged briefly before separating out, like paint that refused to amalgamate. As he expected, his slender build cast no shadow upon the rippling surface of the stream. Ceremoniously, he gently set his no-longer-needed kwavin aside. Perhaps some wandering Slevish would find it and be able to make use of it.
'The simplest crossing so far.' Raising his great axe, Samm used it to point eastward. 'Perhaps for once, we'll have an easy time of it.'
'That'd be a nice change.' With the water slicking the legs of her pants to her lower body, Cocoa's human, bipedal shape proved more attractive than ever, Oskar noted uncomfortably. He had to remind himself firmly that there was no way she could ever be the bitch of his fantasies.
Even without the expected greenish tint to the air, the territory that lay before them would have cast an emerald glint over everything that lay within. Never had Oskar or any of his companions seen so intense a forest. All manner of trees, straight and twisted, broad of bole and slim of trunk, slender of leaf or smothered by branches, flourished side by side to create the lush landscape. Beneath them clustered hundreds of varieties of flower and bush, all wrapped in shades of green varying from delicate hints of olive to bold assertions of emerald. Despite the obstacle it presented, the forest exuded an air of exuberant life that had not been present in any of the kingdoms of light they had already traversed.
'There's something about green.' Cocoa's eyes were darting from side to side, her senses alert, as they climbed the gentle rise that led from the perimeter creek to the first of the outlying trees. 'It's soothing to the soul in a way that yellow or red can never be.'
Taj was nodding in response to a private thought. 'Restful. Less harsh on the eyes. Easier to conjure— thoughts.'
'See?' Samm pointed with his free hand. 'There's plenty of room to walk between the trees. It's a real forest, like the Wyzel; not a jungle we have to cut through. Walking in shade all the way, we'll reach the Kingdom of Blue in no time.'
Only Mamakitty and Oskar were hesitant to join in the general enthusiasm, refusing to be swayed by what were admittedly heartening appearances. They advanced more slowly than their ebullient companions. From his four-legged jaunts in the company of Master Evyndd, Oskar knew that forests were usually home to more than just trees. Still, it was hard not to be hopeful. Maybe, just maybe, here at last was a kingdom they could cross in comparative peace, without having to fight their way through something or flee from it.
The first thorns struck Cocoa as soon as she entered the woods. Emitting a series of startled yelps, she was hit by more and more of them as she pulled their predecessors out of her arms and legs. When Cezer hurried to her aid, he soon found himself flinching beneath the same barbed barrage.
With Oskar and Taj's help, they retreated back the way they had come, halting only when the flurry of woody darts began to fall short. The attack ceased entirely soon thereafter.
'Now—ouch!—what—ow!' Cocoa's beautiful face squinched tight each time Mamakitty pulled a thorn from her flesh. The projectiles were the size of a thumb; thick, sharp, and sturdy. Examining one, Oskar found himself hoping they contained no poison. If the continuing strength of Cezer's complaints were any indication, they did not.
'I didn't see anyone.' Cocoa was studying where the thorns had pierced her clothing. Perhaps they had been remiss when they had first set out on their search, Oskar reflected, in acquiring human attire but no armor. The latter, however, would surely have slowed them down. 'Only the forest.'
'There's something hiding in there,
'I didn't see anything, either.' Mamakitty daubed at Cocoa's punctures with a small cloth she had moistened in the nearby stream. In the shade of fringing growths they probed the forest depths, seeking unseen enemies.
Then, in a response as unexpected as the prickly attack, one of the fringe growths decided it was time to contribute to the conversation.
'You're not overlooking anything. You saw everything. You just don't understand what you're seeing.'
The tinny, mildly accusatory voice came from what Oskar took to be a sycamore of subdued dimensions that was struggling to adapt itself to life at the forest's edge. Without straining his vision, he could see where ripples in the bark came together to form a kind of mouth. Above it, slightly slanted eyes gazed back at him. The woody folds
