Out of This World

by Charles de Lint

  “And if you haven’t been there before?” “I search with my hawk’s eyes—as you did to locate the de Padillas.”

  “You mean in your spirit form?”

  He nods. “I was going to have you try that today, but you’ve already taught yourself.”

  “So now what?” I ask.

  “Try to recall as many memories of your friend as you can. Fill your head with the look of her, the scent, the sound of her voice, but especially whatever it is that you feel when you think of her.”

  I have to laugh. “You mean confusion?”

  His brows go up.

  “I’m kind of conflicted with how I feel about her,” I tell him.

  “But you still have feelings for her?”

  “I …”

  Sure, I do. How could I not? I’ve never been with anybody as wild and sexy as Elzie. The confusing thing is, I have all this longing for Marina, which is so wrong. She’s either mourning Chaingang—or with him, if he somehow survived. And even if she hadn’t hooked up with Chaingang, I screwed things up between us so badly that she’ll never completely trust me again.

  “Josh?” Tío Goyo says.

  I give him a rueful grin. “I know, I know. In my own head again. Okay, so I think about Elzie and then what?”

  “Focus on the need to find her and drop that need into wherever it is that you store your maps.”

  “How am I supposed to do that? I don’t know where the maps are. You made me shut them down.”

  Tío Goyo nods. “All right, why don’t we try this: imagine a book in your mind and inside it are all your maps.”

  The skepticism I’m feeling must be written all over my face because he adds, “Just try it.”

  This is the kind of thing Des is so good at. He can close his eyes and paint a word picture of something he’s imagining, which, as you’re listening to him, starts to sound so real that you end up seeing it yourself.

  So how would Des do this?

  I smile. The first thing is, the book would be some big, fat, old leather-bound volume like the one from the credits of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It’d have embossed gold lettering on the front, in some kind of spooky Gothic font. The title would be … all I can come up with is Book of Maps. Des’d have a far better one, only he’s not here. But it doesn’t matter. I can picture the book now, just kind of floating around inside my head.

  All the maps are in there, I tell myself. Maps of all the worlds I’ve visited so far, as well as every place I haven’t been to yet. That book’s not just any book. It’s my magical GPS atlas and it’s always going to be there, as normal to access as it is to shift into my mountain lion shape.

  “I think I’ve got it,” I say.

  “You think?” Tío Goyo asks.

  “No, no. I’ve definitely got it. So now I just focus on my need to find Elzie and drop it into the book?”

  Tío Goyo nods. “Wait!” he adds before I can let my body fall back into the earth. “If you do find her on one of those maps, don’t go directly to her. Instead, arrive somewhere nearby, so that you’ll be able to scout the area instead of appearing directly in the middle of a situation you might not be able to handle.”

  “Good point. Maybe I should go in my spirit form.”

  “You could,” Tío Goyo says. “But remember how you snapped back when you were first trying it last night?”

  “Yeah, what was up with that?”

  “It’s because when you let your body return to the earth here, it serves as an anchor to this world. If you haven’t established a similar anchor in the new world, any momentary distraction can snap you back.”

  “And I create an anchor by …?”

  “Calling up your body from the matter of the new world.”

  “Okay, that sort of makes sense. Anything else?”

  “Be careful of the cousins you meet. They might be like the de Padillas, but they might also be like the one you met from the Hummingbird Clan last night, or worse.”

  “I could have handled him.”

  Tío Goyo shakes his head. “Which would only cause more problems. Right now, you only have an issue with the Condor Clan. You don’t need to add the enmity of other clans. Feuds among the cousins can last for generations, and their lives are already long.”

  He’s echoing what Cory told me back when I first changed: don’t get cocky.

  Yeah, I was able to deal with Vincenzo, but what are my odds going up against his two brothers at the same time? The smart way to play this is to avoid a situation where I have to find out.

  “Low profile,” I tell Tío Goyo. “Got it.” Then something occurs to me. “You’re not coming?”

  “I will if you want me to,” he says. “But I think things will go more smoothly if you don’t arrive in my company. The hawks of the Halcón Pueblo don’t have many friends among the cousins.”

  “Should I be worried hanging around with you?”

  He gives me a humourless smile. “Only if you become infected with an evil spirit.”

  I hold his gaze and realize he’s really not kidding. Nice.

  “Right,” I say. “Well, on that cheerful note …”

  “I will be nearby,” Tío Goyo says, “if you should need me. But I’ll wait for a signal before approaching.”

  I close my eyes and take a breath, let it out slowly. I’ve got my handy dandy Book of Maps floating in my head, ready and waiting. I fill my thoughts with Elzie. The sway of her walk and the lilt of her voice. The smell of her hair, the touch of her skin. Her body against mine. I can’t help getting an erection from some of these memories.

  I totally believe I can do this. I will it to happen.

  But nothing does.

  After what feels like forever, but has probably only been a few minutes, I open my eyes again.

  “I’m not getting anything,” I tell Tío Goyo, feeling a little awkward about the bulge in my pants.

  He nods, kindly ignoring the obvious. “You’re doing well,” he says with a wry smile, “but perhaps you’re a little self-conscious. Try it again, this time in your spirit form,” he says. “But when you get there, make sure you shift immediately to your human form.”

  “Okay,” I say and let my body fall away.

  As soon as my spirit rises, everything feels clearer inside me. I’m unencumbered. I call up the book. I think about Elzie again, then roll everything I know and feel about her into a tiny pulse of light that I drop onto the cover of the book. As the light sinks into it, I imagine the book opening to turn page after beautiful page, revealing maps known and unknown. The little blinking light pulses until it holds steady on a particular page.

  I stare at it for a long moment. I’ve no idea what world that is, but I’m certain it’s where I’ll find Elzie.

  If I had a body, I’d be grinning.

  Canejo is quiet for a long time after I finish describing the events leading up to Vincenzo’s death, the awful things he’d done and intended to do, and hardest of all, how he died. Looking at him and Thorn while I talked, I was almost able to forget the dogs and condors gathered outside. But now my gaze goes beyond the window and their eerie presence fills every part of me, like a cloud shadowing the sun, like a huge wave about to pull me deep into the ocean with its undertow.

  Dusk has fallen and the fires the dogs lit earlier cast a flickering light through the windowpanes. The condor men stand motionless, staring back at me. The dog cousins lie by the fires, some in human shape, others in their four-legged forms.

  I wait for Canejo to comment, but Thorn speaks first.

  “This friend of yours,” he says. “Josh. He must be a mighty warrior.”

  I start to shake my head, except then I think of everything I just told them. If someone told me those things about someone they knew, I’d have the same impression.

  “I guess he’s turning into one,” I have to admit. I don’t suppose it ever really sank in until this moment.

  Never mind his small stature. Josh isn’t a boy anymore.
He’s a man. A Wildling. A freaking mountain lion, capable of … I try to push those memories aside.

  For the first time in a long while I get a pang in my chest, missing him so badly because, even if he were standing right here in front of me, he wouldn’t be my Josh anymore. I’m never going to get that Josh back.

  “He must be confused,” Thorn says.

  I blink and focus on what he’s saying.

  “Imagine,” he goes on. “To be so young to his new nature and already so formidable.”

  Canejo nods. “I hadn’t heard this story before—all you children waking to the animals that had been living hidden under your skin. And your Tía Min says the Thunders are responsible?”

  “She’s not my aunt. That’s just what people call her. She’s this big deal back where I come from—not that you’d ever know it by looking at her.”

  Which you could maybe say about Canejo, too. He doesn’t look like much, either, but those condor men are wary of him and I know just how powerful they are from watching their brother Vincenzo in action.

  “I don’t think anybody knows why it started happening,” I add. “The only thing we know for sure is that after Josh became a mountain lion, kids stopped changing. He was the last one.”

  “Interesting.”

  I think about what Canejo said a moment ago. “Some of the kids with you here are Wildlings, too,” I say. “Did none of them tell you about this?”

  He shakes his head. “We deliberately don’t talk about who or what they were before because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is who they are now, and what they will become.”

  “I think they were chased here—just like I was—and not to study with you.”

  “None of us came here willingly,” Canejo admits. “But how we came here doesn’t change what we can accomplish now. Worldly concerns lose their potency as we teach our spirits to walk large.”

  I’m starting to get the prickly feeling that I’ve walked into a cult. I glance at Thorn, but he appears unconcerned, slouched in his seat, legs crossed at the ankles. He produces a twig from his pocket and uses its sharp end to clean his fingernails.

  “Are you starting a religion here?” I ask Canejo.

  “Hardly. Religions bind the spirit and I don’t believe we should have intermediaries between ourselves and the Grace at the heart of the world.”

  I like the sound of that. It seems not so much poetic, as deep with meaning. Then I start to worry that I’m falling under the spell of the cult, if that’s what they are.

  “And that’s what you’re teaching the people who study with you here?” I ask.

  He smiles. “Not really. Many arrive in a weakened emotional state. I’m teaching them how to be strong and accept themselves. My hope is that once they adjust and become stronger, they will want their spirits to grow, as well.”

  Movement outside catches my eye. All the dogs are on their feet, looking back in the direction that Thorn and I came from earlier. The firelight’s distracting, but my Wildling vision is still good enough to pierce the shadows beyond them where a tall man approaches.

  I don’t have a good scale of reference, but he appears to be huge, muscular and broad-shouldered. As he gets closer I see that he must be at least seven feet tall. He has a wide face with narrow, almond-shaped eyes, a substantial nose and long white hair that dangles in a dozen or so narrow braids. At first I think he’s in half-animal shape, but then I realize he has a white fur cloak draped over his shoulders. His chest and feet are bare. The only other thing he’s wearing is a pair of loosefitting trousers.

  A large medallion hangs from his neck. As he continues his approach I see that the medallion has the same symbol of a thunderbolt in a circle that the dogs wear as brands and tattoos.

  “I guess—” I have to clear my throat. “I guess that must be Nanuq.”

  Thorn’s sitting up straight, staring out the window. He gives a slow nod.

  I hear the faint shuffle of feet on the marble floor behind us and look over my shoulder to see that Canejo’s followers are moving in our direction, Lionel at the forefront, as they also peer outside. Lionel shoots me a bitter look, then returns his gaze to what’s taking place outdoors.

  The dog men make a path for Nanuq; their body language as they move is that of submissives giving way to an alpha. Nanuq doesn’t pay them the least bit of attention. He strides all the way forward until he’s standing directly in front of the glass doors separating us. Canejo sighs and stands up.

  “I suppose we have to talk to him,” he says.

  Can we not? I want to say. You’re a rabbit cousin. Don’t rabbits always have a hidden back door out of their burrow? Couldn’t we just make a break for it?

  Because there’s something old and horrible in Nanuq’s eyes that just makes me want to flee right now.

  But when Canejo approaches the door, I find myself following him. Thorn walks beside me. Canejo’s students stay mostly in the shadows beyond the firelight that comes in through the window—all except for the snarky Lionel, who steps up so that he’s flanking me on the other side. I kind of don’t mind. At this moment, the more of us presenting a united front against Nanuq, the better.

  I take a deep breath as Canejo pushes the door open. He steps outside and we follow suit. I steal a glance at the condor men, but they’ve got the same submissive vibe as the dogs.

  Nanuq fixes his gaze on me and it’s all I can do not to back up. “I want the girl,” he says.

  Canejo stands with his hands in his pockets. “You know that’s not how it works,” he says. “She’s here under my protection, unless she decides otherwise.”

  “She’s neither your kin nor clan.”

  I’m trying not to react but it’s hard to breathe. I can’t figure out why Nanuq doesn’t just grab me and haul me off. It’s not like the rabbit man presents a formidable figure.

  Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy that Canejo’s standing up for me. I just don’t understand how he’s able to be such a deterrent.

  “That’s debatable,” Canejo says. “By that same argument, none of my students are kin or clan, but nevertheless they are all under my protection. As is she.”

  God, I wish there was somebody I knew here. Theo or Josh, or even Des. Stacy Li and the other kids from Santa Feliz hiding back there in the shadows don’t count. I want somebody who really cares for me. Somebody to hold my hand and tell me, yeah, this sucks, but everything’s going to be okay.

  “Her friend killed Vincenzo,” Nanuq says. “He needs to pay for that.”

  Canejo shrugs. “So take it up with her friend.”

  “No,” Nanuq says. “He loses everyone dear to him first.”

  “And how does that make the world a better place?” Canejo asks. “That’s still your plan, isn’t it? To make the world a better place?”

  “A clear message needs to be sent that I will avenge any who murder my people. Who will follow me if I don’t protect them from this threat?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know why anybody follows you as it is.”

  A deep growl rumbles in the bear man’s chest.

  “Just give me the girl,” he says, “or maybe I’ll rethink my promise to leave you alone in this little warren of yours.”

  “Why do you really want her?” Canejo asks.

  “I told you. She’s the friend of the kin-slayer.”

  “The Condor Clan were never your kin.”

  “Perhaps not by blood or birth. But I have chosen them as kindred because they stand by me against a common enemy.”

  “I don’t.”

  Nanuq studies him for a moment. “Be careful what side you choose. If you stand against me …” He shrugs. “I can make quick work of a jackalope.”

  A jackalope? I think. Canejo’s a jackalope? They’re not even real. I’m mean, they’re more not real than animal people. Animal people at least make a kind of sense. The next thing they’re going to say is that yetis or elves are real.

  “Can you?” Canejo
asks. “I was here before the volcanoes gave birth to cadejos. Before the winds gave dragons their wings. Before the glaciers spawned your clan.”

  His tone of voice reminds me of Auntie Min: calm, softspoken, but there’s an edge of steel underlying his words.

  A flicker of something flashes in Nanuq’s eyes—not exactly fear, more like a moment of unease. Then it’s gone.

  “Don’t make me ask you a third time,” he says. “You don’t really think you can hurt me, do you?” Canejo asks, the edge in his voice growing sharper.

  Nanuq shrugs. “Sooner or later we’ll find out, but not today. Today you should consider your students. Continue with this stubbornness and I’ll do more than let my hounds tease them with the odd torment. Though of course, I’d rather they stay in your warren with you, never again to dare to venture out of doors. They are lucky to be contained in Dainnan, otherwise I would have already dispatched them.”

  Canejo stands a little taller.

  “If that’s your final word,” he says, “there’ll be no ‘later.’ We’ll find out where we stand right now.”

  “This is bullshit,” Lionel says. “Just give him the girl and they’ll leave us alone.”

  Nice, I think. The fear I’ve been trying to hold at bay starts up a trembling in my legs and I feel like I have to pee.

  “Exactly,” Nanuq says. “Be smart for a change.”

  “And if he tells us he wants you next,” Canejo asks Lionel, “we should just give you up as well?”

  “I won’t,” Nanuq says.

  Canejo ignores him, his attention still on Lionel. “Then where does it stop?” he asks. “How many is a reasonable number before we take a stand and say enough?”

  “He doesn’t want anybody else.”

  “For now,” Canejo says, turning back to Nanuq. “I say one is too many.”

  “Well, I don’t,” Lionel says.

  Before I know what he’s doing, he gives me a hard shove and I go stumbling forward. I’m too off balance to dodge Nanuq’s big meaty hand as it closes over my shoulder and hauls me toward him.

  “Now, was that so hard?” Nanuq asks.