by Jon Berkeley
Doctor Tau-Tau sat in the center of a web of ripples like a spider’s breakfast. He had ceased to struggle as it dawned on him, too, that he had been deposited in a few inches of icy water instead of plummeting to his death far below. He was sobbing quietly now with a mixture of terror and relief, but even if you had been there you would not have heard him, for the moment he had landed with a splash on his backside the Fir Bolg had begun to laugh.
They hooted and cackled with laughter. They slapped their knees and bent double and dropped their spears with a clatter. Their laughter echoed around the cavern walls and Fuat, daughter of Anust, daughter of Etar, laughed the loudest of all. “The Shriveled Fella would have loved that one, may the gods put the juice back into him,” gasped the little old woman. The tears streamed down her cheeks, and she slapped one of her hairy companions so hard on the back that he fell to his hands and knees.
Miles felt as though he would be sick. He stepped cautiously out into the pool, grateful that the image of the bottomless hole was still fractured into expanding ripples. The water was as cold as ice. He waded slowly forward until he reached the spot where Doctor Tau-Tau sat, and helped him to his feet. Tau-Tau shuffled through the water beside him, dazed and sniveling, until they reached the ledge. If he noticed the Fir Bolg’s amusement at all he showed no reaction, but allowed himself to be led back along the tunnel, this time by Miles, who followed their giggling captors by ear through the inky darkness.
They were returned to their cave, where Doctor Tau-Tau collapsed quivering in a corner. Fuat spoke briefly to the guards, and turned to leave. “Wait,” said Miles. “Why are you keeping us now? You know we don’t have what you’re looking for.”
The little woman grinned at him. Her teeth were small and pointed. “You will be let go in the morning,” she said, “but not the far rua.”
“You mean Doctor Tau-Tau? You don’t need him,” said Miles. His earlier anger at Tau-Tau had drained away, and now he felt only pity. “He’s been through enough.”
Fuat cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “He had no right to come here, nor yet to leave.”
“But you’re letting me go. Why not him?” asked Miles.
“You have a debt to pay. You must return the Tiger’s Egg to the Fir Bolg.”
“I don’t even know what it is!” protested Miles. He thought for a moment. “I’ll need Doctor Tau-Tau to help me find it.”
The woman cackled. “That one couldn’t find his nose with his hand,” she said, “but he will find his way into the pot. There will be feasting tomorrow for the last journey of the Shriveled Fella. The winter has been hard, and we are sore tired of running on empty bellies.”
“You can’t eat him,” whispered Miles, thinking desperately. “What about his life? You’ll be in debt to his family.”
“That we will, cyart go lore,” said Fuat. “A couple of rabbits should pay that, when the spring comes.” She turned and cracked her switch at the guards, who hastily prodded Miles backward into the cave.
“We’ve had no food or water,” Miles called after Fuat.
“Amoroch,” she said. “Food there will be, tomorrow.” She disappeared, laughing, into the gloom.
Miles looked over at Doctor Tau-Tau, who sat slumped in the corner staring at the floor. He glanced out of the cave to make sure the guards were not watching either, then he reached up and groped anxiously in the small hole where he had left Tangerine. To his relief he found him at once. The little bear climbed into his hand and Miles lifted him carefully down and returned him to the pocket of his dressing gown with a sigh. “Now all we have to do,” he whispered under his breath, “is to find a way out of here.” Tangerine, always a better listener than he was a finder, grasped his master’s finger happily and said not a word.
Miles sat himself down beside Doctor Tau-Tau. The fortune-teller was shivering in his damp dressing gown. He seemed to have physically shrunk since he had been hurled into the water, and in the dim light of the cave it looked as though his hair had begun to turn white. Miles searched for a way to distract him from his ordeal.
“Are the Fir Bolg related to The Null in some way?” he asked.
Doctor Tau-Tau sat up straight. “Why on earth would you think that?” he asked.
“Because they’re so hairy,” suggested Miles.
The fortune-teller snorted. “Both ants and antelopes have legs,” he said. “That doesn’t make them first cousins. Anyway,” he added hastily, “I’ve never heard of The Null. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Miles sighed. He wondered why it was so difficult to get a straight answer from anyone older than himself. He tried again. “It was the Fir Bolg who raided your wagon, wasn’t it?”
“Possibly,” said Tau-Tau cagily.
“What were they looking for?” asked Miles.
“For the Tiger’s Egg, of course,” said the fortune-teller.
“I need to know more about this Tiger’s Egg,” said Miles, “if I’m to get us out of here.”
Doctor Tau-Tau thought about this for a moment. “It’s a very rare thing, a precious stone that contains the captured soul of a tiger. It’s believed there’s only one still in existence, and that one was in the possession of Celeste, at least for a time. I’ve searched for it for many years, but it still eludes me.”
“How can a stone contain the soul of a tiger?” asked Miles.
“It can be created only by a powerful shaman,” said Tau-Tau. “The shaman takes the soul of a real tiger and traps it in the stone. The tiger can never die as long as his soul remains in the Egg. He becomes a sort of living ghost in thrall to the master of the Tiger’s Egg, like a striped genie.” He thought about this for a minute. “Like a genie,” he said, “with stripes.”
“But why would anyone want to trap a tiger’s soul?” asked Miles.
“There’s great power in a Tiger’s Egg,” said Tau-Tau, straightening himself up a little. “It contains the wisdom, courage and strength of the tiger who endowed it, but its owner must already be wise and strong to be able to control it. Some say that the Egg can also give immortality to its master.”
“The Egg my mother had,” said Miles, “did it belong to the Fir Bolg?”
“Celeste borrowed the Egg from the Fir Bolg for twenty-one years, in exchange for some service she was to render them; I never found out what it was. That time has now expired.”
“And you brought me here to give it back?” asked Miles.
“Certainly not!” said Tau-Tau in a loud whisper. The background noise in the cavern beyond had fallen to a murmur. It seemed that whatever the Fir Bolg recognized as night had fallen, and they had settled in their caves and hollows to sleep. Miles felt a wave of tiredness wash over him at the thought. His stomach was hollow and his eyelids drooped.
“I don’t understand,” he whispered with an effort. “Then why are we here?”
Doctor Tau-Tau’s shoulders slumped. “It’s all been a misunderstanding,” he said. “At first I was unsure if you were telling the truth about your encounters with a tiger. I didn’t believe it was possible that you could possess a Tiger’s Egg without knowing about it, but the Egg showed up clearly in your cards. Along with the fact that you were the son of Barty and Celeste,” he added hastily. “I felt sure that you had swallowed the Egg as an infant, and that the Fir Bolg would know a harmless way to get it out of you. I was confident I could get us out of here easily, once I had it in my hands.”
“But it wouldn’t be yours, even if we had it. It belongs to the Fir Bolg, doesn’t it?”
Doctor Tau-Tau shook his head. “It wouldn’t be safe with the hairy little primitives. Cortado would find out where it was before long.”
“The Great Cortado?” said Miles in astonishment. “How does he know about the Tiger’s Egg?”
The fortune-teller shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “But if it got into his hands we’d all be a tiger’s breakfast. I’ll only ever be safe if I get to the Egg first. And that goes for you
too.”
“I’ll be safe?” said Miles angrily. “You nearly had me killed just trying to find it!”
“Not at all,” said Tau-Tau, smiling weakly. “They would never have cut you open. I had the situation completely under control.”
“It didn’t look like that when you were flying into the mouth of hell,” said Miles sharply. He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth, but they could not be unsaid.
Doctor Tau-Tau cringed at the memory. “That’s harsh,” he said, then after a moment’s thought he added, “but fair. Even a farsighted man such as myself can occasionally make an error of judgment. And now we’ll probably rot in this damp hole, because there’s little prospect of anyone finding us.”
“They’ve told me I can go tomorrow,” said Miles.
Doctor Tau-Tau sat bolt upright. “But you’re just a tent boy!” he said. “What about me?”
Miles sighed. “I won’t be going anywhere,” he said. “I’m not leaving until I can get us both out of here.”
“But you must!” exclaimed Tau-Tau. “You can go for help. How else will anyone know where I am?”
The fortune-teller’s wheedling tone made Miles think of the conversation he and Little had overheard under the tamarind tree in Larde, and suddenly the other voice they had heard from Tau-Tau’s wagon clicked into place. “You told Cortado about the Tiger’s Egg!” said Miles.
“What are you talking about?” said Doctor Tau-Tau shiftily. “I would have nothing to do with that little villain.”
“He was in your wagon at Larde,” said Miles. “I overheard you as I walked by.”
“I-I . . . b-but . . . ,” stammered Tau-Tau. He stopped and buried his head in his hands. “I had no choice,” he said in a muffled voice. “I woke up with a knife at my throat and that lunatic sitting on my chest. I had to tell him something that would make him spare my life, and the Tiger’s Egg was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Why would the Great Cortado want to kill you?” asked Miles suspiciously.
“That goes back to Celeste’s death,” said Doctor Tau-Tau. “Cortado had always suspected Celeste held some power over the tiger, but he didn’t know what it was. When she died he demanded that I reveal the secret to him. I told him I had learned nothing about the tiger from Celeste but he did not believe me. He flew into a rage and said that if I did not reveal the secret to him he would kill me. I had to flee for my life there and then. I traveled overseas for many years, and I only came back when news reached me that he had been locked away in an asylum.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I should have known that no hospital could hold him for long. As soon as he escaped he came to Larde to find the boy who had brought down the Palace of Laughter, and instead he found me in my wagon, with my name painted on the side like a signpost.”
“What exactly did you tell him about the Tiger’s Egg?”
“As little as possible. I just wanted to be rid of him until I could formulate a plan. I told him that the Egg was probably somewhere in Larde, where Barty and Celeste’s son had supposedly died in the orphanage, or else it was still hidden in the circus. He told me to stay with the circus and continue searching for it, while he looked in Larde, just as I hoped he would.”
“I didn’t die in the orphanage!” said Miles.
“I can see that,” said Doctor Tau-Tau, “but that was the story that was put about at the time, and I had no reason to disbelieve it until you . . . until the cards revealed who you were.”
Miles sat back against the cold stone of the cave wall. “Then all we have to do is tell the police that the Great Cortado is hiding out in Larde,” he said.
Doctor Tau-Tau sat bolt upright, and the whites of his eyes shone faintly in the darkness. “Are you mad?” he hissed. “Those fools will just send him back to the hospital, and how long do you think it will be before he’s back out and lying in wait with a butcher knife? Besides, it’s not that simple. He has . . . something I need.”
Miles looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“He has the notebook,” sniffed Tau-Tau. “The one that tells how to master the Tiger’s Egg.”
“You mean it has an instruction manual?”
“In a manner of speaking,” said Doctor Tau-Tau. “It’s one of Celeste’s old diaries, in which she was gathering everything she could learn about the Tiger’s Egg. Cortado found it when he broke into my wagon, and he took it with him when he left, to ensure that I would come to him if I found the Egg.”
“My mother’s diaries?” said Miles. “How did you come to have my mother’s diaries in your wagon?”
“Diary, my boy. I had only one. The other two were lost when I fled the Great Cortado in the first place. I took over Celeste’s old wagon on my return, and I came across this one diary hidden behind one of the seats. It was only because I was repainting the wagon inside and out that I found it at all.”
“Then if Cortado finds the Tiger’s Egg in Larde,” said Miles, “he won’t need you, will he?”
Doctor Tau-Tau laughed quietly. “Don’t be absurd,” he said. “Only someone who has studied such things for years would be able to make head or tail of Celeste’s notebooks, and Cortado knows it. They are written in a jumble of languages and symbols, some of which I’m sure she made up herself. I was only beginning to decipher the notebook when Cortado stole it from me, but he would not even know where to start. My . . . our only hope is to find the Tiger’s Egg and somehow trick Cortado out of the notebook.” Doctor Tau-Tau did not sound too sure of this part of the plan, but he leaned forward and his eyes bulged in the semidarkness. “With the power of the Egg,” he whispered, “I would be safe from the little villain once and for all. The tiger is the only thing he’s afraid of.” He settled back into his dressing gown and closed his eyes.
Miles sat for a while, his eyes straining into the darkness until it seemed to crawl with a million tiny dots. It was obvious that Doctor Tau-Tau would be of little use in working out a way to escape. He would have to make a plan himself to get the two of them out of there, but before he knew it the weariness of the day had overtaken him, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A FLASH OF LIGHT
Miles Wednesday, bone-chilled and hollow-bellied, woke with a start with the now-familiar feel of a sharp stick being poked in his ribs. He had been dreaming of the tiger, who had peeled back the lid of the dark hole in which he sat, and was looking down at him with amusement, framed in the brilliant blue of a cloudless sky. His heart fell as he realized that he was still trapped in a cave, and the only person grinning down at him in the semidarkness was one of the hairy little guards. Even worse, he had fallen asleep before he could even begin to think of a plan for their escape. Morning, he supposed, had come upon them, and he was being woken for his release. The guard was not one he remembered seeing before.
“Arrye liv,” said the guard, jabbing him again with the pointed stick.
Doctor Tau-Tau received a similar poke, and was on his feet before his eyes were fully open. “What?” he mumbled. “Are we there yet?” He peered around blearily in the darkness.
“Where’s Fuat?” asked Miles. “I need to talk to her.”
The guard showed no sign of understanding him, and hustled them outside to where the rest of the little men waited. Most of them, too, seemed to have just awoken. They jabbered among themselves, and two of them wrestled over a small flask, spilling most of the contents on the rocky slope before a drop could pass their lips. The new guard spoke sharply to them, and an argument broke out, with much gesticulating and everyone speaking at once.
Eventually agreement was reached. The guards got reluctantly to their feet and prodded their captives into the usual run, down toward the tunnel from which they had entered the cavern the day before, dodging sleeping knots of Fir Bolg who huddled here and there on the sloping floor. The dim light was soon left behind as they entered the tunnels, and they moved quickly through the darkness for some tim
e. Miles’s mind raced as they ran, but he quickly realized the futility of trying to overpower the guards. He could neither see where they were nor avoid their spears, and he could not hope to find a way out with no hint of light. Besides, Doctor Tau-Tau’s breathing was becoming more labored by the moment, and it did not seem likely that he would be of much help in a struggle. He could only cling to the hope that wherever they were going, their course would bring them closer to the tunnel entrance, and the light beyond it.
“Must . . . stop a mo . . . a moment,” panted Tau-Tau, as if to confirm what Miles was thinking. “Have to rest . . . .”
“Okay,” said the new guard. He spoke to the others and they stopped abruptly. Miles himself was grateful for the rest, but something didn’t seem right, and in a moment he realized what it was.
“You can understand us?” he said, facing the sound of the guard’s voice. “Where are you taking us?”
“Cover your eyes,” came the reply. Something about the guard’s voice made Miles do as he was told, and not a moment too soon. There was a crack followed by a loud spluttering hiss. The cave was filled with a pink light that was so bright it forced its way between Miles’s fingers and soaked through his closed eyelids. He gasped with surprise, and heard Tau-Tau give out a startled shout, but that was nothing compared to the reaction of the other guards. The unfortunate little men shrieked as though they had been dropped into boiling soup, and all around came the sound of their spears falling to the ground. When Miles dared to open his eyelids a fraction he saw that the new guard seemed to hold in his hand a miniature sun that flooded the cave with intense light, while his howling companions had curled up tightly in a ball, or thrown themselves flat on their faces and were squirming as quickly as they could away from the light. Doctor Tau-Tau just sat on the floor, a floodlit, dressing-gowned heap with his face in his hands and his newly whitened hair standing out from his head like cotton candy.
“Gomo leshcule,” said the Fir Bolg with the supernova. There was something about the guard’s voice that did not fit with the hairy little troglodyte it came from. “Follow me,” he said to Miles. “We haven’t got much time.”