ultimate capacity to pull ourselves from the mud of unchecked appetite and careless cruelty. In a positive will to good which will create a harmony not easily destroyed by the brutes.'
Oona shrugged. 'Anxious dogs overeat,' she said. 'And then they usually vomit.'
'You are a cynic?'
'No. But we have a long battle, we Knights of the Balance, to achieve that harmony.'
I'd heard that phrase earlier. I asked her what it meant.
'A term some use to describe those of us who work for justice and equity in the world,' she explained.
'And am I one of those knights?' I asked.
'I believe you know,' she said. Then she changed the subject, pointing out the flowing cascades of what she called moonflowers, pouring down the slender terraces of Mu Ooria's spires.
In spite of all the dangers and mysteries I had known, it was a privilege to witness such beauty. It defied anything I had ever anticipated. It had an intensity, a tactile and ambient reality, that even an opium-eater could not understand. I knew that, whatever I experienced, I was not dreaming. There was no denying the absolute reality of this gloomy, rocky world.
Oona clearly wished to answer no further questions, so we spent the next while in silence, admiring the skills of the Off-Moo architects who blended their own creations with the natural, giving the city an organic wholeness I had never seen in a place of that size before.
As we turned from admiring a fluted curtain of transparent rock appearing to undulate in the light from the lake, I saw a man standing not four feet from me. I felt sick and silenced by the shock. Again this was my doppelganger, still clad in the baroque black armor, his face an exaggerated likeness of my own, with high cheekbones, slightly slanting brows and glaring red eyes, his skin the color of fresh ivory. Screaming at me. Screaming at me and understanding that I could not hear a word.
Oona saw him, too, and recognized him. She began to approach him, but he moved away down an alley, signaling me to follow. His pace increased and we were forced to run to keep up with him. Twisting, turning, dipping down into narrow tunnels, ascending steps, crossing bridges, we followed the armored man to the outskirts of the city, until we were some distance inland. He remained ahead of us, moving steadily up the bank of the river, in and out of the constantly changing shadows, the flickering, silvery light. Every so often he glanced back and the black metal helmet framed a face filled with urgency. I was certain that he wished us to follow him.
Momentarily blinded, I lost track of him. Oona began to run ahead of me. I think she could still see him. I hurried in her wake.
Then, from ahead, I heard a sudden, agonized scream, a wail of grief and terror combined. Rushing forward I found the young woman kneeling on the ground beside what I took at first for the corpse of the black- armored stranger.
The stranger had vanished. The carcass was that of the great saber-toothed panther who had kept pace with our raft as we sailed towards the city.
Oona raised her weeping eyes to mine.
'This can only be Gaynor,' she said. 'Murdering for pleasure.'
I looked up, hoping to see the stranger, wondering if he had killed the cat. I thought I caught a glimpse of coppery silver, heard a mocking note in the current of the river, but there was no sign of my doppelganger.
'Did you know the animal?' I asked Oona, kneeling beside her as she wrapped her arms around its huge body.
'Know her?' Oona's slender frame shivered with unbearable emotion. 'Oh, yes, Count von Bek, I know her.' She paused, trying to take control of her grief. 'We are more than sisters.' The tears began to come now, streaming silver against her bone-white skin.
I thought I'd misheard her.
'Only Gaynor,' she whispered, rising and looking about her. 'Only he would have the cruel courage and cleverness to attack our cats first. They are crucial to Mu Ooria's defense.'
'You say she's your sister?' I looked wonderingly down at the massive black cat, her curved, white tusks the length of swords. 'This beast?'
'Well,' she said abstractedly, still trying to recover herself. 'I am, after all, a dreamthief's daughter. I have some choice in the matter.'
Then Gaynor, still in his SS uniform, stepped from behind a pillar. Incongruously he had a short, bone bow in one hand. With the other, he was drawing back a string. Nocked to it was a slender silver arrow aimed directly at Oona's heart.
She reached for her own weapon but then froze, realizing that Gaynor had the complete advantage.
'I've been having some interesting adventures and encounters, cousin,' he said. 'Learning some good lessons. Time's simply zipped by. How has it been for you?'
Chapter Ten
Rippling Time
My Raven Blade was where I had left it in my new lodgings. Oona could not use her bow and was otherwise without arms. Gaynor was choosing which one of us to shoot. His aim wavered, but he was too far distant for me to be able to attack him.
Then reason reminded me that he could not afford to kill us. He wanted my sword. He also seemed to have forgotten the still, slow-time Off-Moo sentinels.
'You'll recall, cousin, that not all who' guard this place are immediately detectable,' I said.
His smile was dismissive. 'They're no danger to me. I've had many ordeals, many adventures and encounters since we last met. I have more powerful help now, cousin. Supernatural help. We already lay siege to Tanelorn. The Off-Moo's defenses are unsophisticated in comparison. This is a wonderful realm, once you find your way around in it. I have learned much that will be useful when I have the Grail.'
'You think that it will be easy for you to return?'
'For me, cousin, yes. You see, I've made some fine new friends since we parted on such bad terms. Once you meet them, you'll soon be enthusiastically apologizing to me. And only too pleased to run home to fetch the Raven Sword while I entertain your pretty young friend, eh?'
I recognized an element of bravado in him, an unsteadiness about his eyes. I replied contemptuously. 'If I had the sword with me, cousin, I suspect you'd be a little more civil. Lower your bow. Was it you who killed the panther?'
'I'll keep the bow strung and maintain our equilibrium for the moment, cousin. Is the big cat dead? An epidemic, no doubt? One of those dreadful plagues which sometimes attacks the feline world . ..' His arrow was still level with my heart, but the verbal barb was intended for Oona.
Oona did not respond. What was meant to goad her, only drove her to take further charge of herself. 'Your claims are illegitimate, Prince Gaynor. Your own cynicism will defeat you. All the future holds for you is an eternity of despair.'
His amusement increased. Then he frowned, as if he brought himself back to business. 'True, I'd hoped to find you here with your sword, Ulric. So I'll strike that bargain-bring me the blade and I'll spare the girl's life in exchange.'
'The sword is my charge,' I said. 'I can't give it up. My honor depends upon my stewardship . . .'
'Bah Your father's honor also depended upon a stewardship- and we know how thoroughly he defended his trust!' Now he was contemptuous.
'Stewardship?'
'Fool! The von Beks had the most powerful combination of supernatural artifacts in the multiverse. Your weakling father, degenerated to mumbling voodoo spells and other witcheries, let one fall from your possession. Because he feared it would be stolen! Your family doesn't deserve its destiny. From now on, I and mine will keep those objects of power together. Forever.'
I was baffled. Had he gone mad? Though he seemed to think I understood him, I could scarcely make
