Out of This World

by Charles de Lint

  “I can’t believe you guys came looking for me,” Marina says, “but I’m so relieved that you did.” She grins at me. “And your timing was impeccable. I don’t think I could have stayed hidden much longer.”

  “No problem, dude,” Des says.

  “I’ll be honest,” I tell her. “I didn’t even know you were missing.”

  “Then why—”

  “I really needed to see a friendly face,” I tell her, “and you were the first person that came to mind.”

  Maybe it’s just the light cast from the fires, but it looks like she’s blushing. Her smile fades and she squares her shoulders as though she needs to be brave again.

  “Did you find Elzie?” she asks.

  I nod, then look down, remembering what a lost cause

  that was.

  She puts a hand on my arm. “Oh, God. You were too late. I’m so sorry.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “You have this really sad look,” she begins, but I cut her off.

  “That’s because it’s maybe worse than me being too late. She wasn’t their captive. She was with them—one of their bosses.”

  I remember the first time I told Marina about meeting Elzie. Marina called her a skank. She ended up warming to Elzie, but it turns out Marina wasn’t far off the mark.

  “That’s awful,” she says.

  “Dude!” Des says.

  “Yeah, she’s messed up all right. Claims not to believe that they’re killing people,” I say, “but she’s totally on board with Nanuq’s idea of remaking the world.” I look around. “Which is a little confusing,” I add, “considering he made this place, and it looks like a scene out of one of the Resident Evil games instead of some pastoral paradise.”

  “Totally,” Des agrees. “Except,” he adds, with an apologetic look aimed at Marina and Donalita, “without the babes carrying the big guns—no offence.”

  “Or the zombies,” I say, then turn to Canejo. “You don’t have zombies, do you?”

  He smiles and shakes his head.

  “So you found Nanuq’s camp,” he says.

  “I was in the woods outside of it just a couple of hours ago.”

  “Did you note what clans are siding with him?”

  “All I saw were canids, so maybe they’re not even there anymore,” I say. “And there was Elzie, who’s a Wildling jaguarundi. I still can’t believe she bought into his bullshit.”

  “Nanuq can be persuasive,” Canejo says. “And he’s not entirely wrong about what’s happening in your world. Some of those first canid followers may still be with him.”

  I know what he means about our world. I’m all too aware of how corruption and greed have screwed it up. But you don’t fix it by murdering everybody and starting all over. I say as much to Canejo.

  “Of course not,” he says. “But you have to understand it from our perspective. We were first on every continent. Usually we were allied with the initial wave of five-fingered beings— what you call indigenous, or native, peoples. Things only changed with the coming of the Europeans with their church teachings and their sciences. First they denied that we—the wilderness, the cousins, even the early peoples—had souls. Then they denied that we had consciousness. And finally, even today, they deny that there’s any kind of sentience to the natural world.

  “Most of them pay at least lip service to the idea that anyone with darker skin is as human as they are,” he continues. “But they look at us and see only animals. They regard animals as their chattel. They look at a river, a forest, a”—he glances at Thorn— “cliff or mountain, and see only resources to be harvested—no reverence for the land or the spirits that lie at the heart of it. It’s little wonder that so many cousins grow frustrated.”

  “But over here, there are so many worlds that are still unspoiled,” I say.

  Canejo nods. “True. But they each have their own spirits, and inhabitants, and guardians. If we were to take up residence in them, we’d be no better than the five-fingered beings, displacing the indigenous inhabitants for our own gain.”

  “Okay, I get that.”

  “But more importantly,” he goes on, “the world of your birth—which is also the world of our birth—is the first world. It needs its wild places and guiding spirits, or it will shrivel and die. And when it does, so do all the other worlds because they are all echoes and dreams of the first world.”

  “So you think he’s right,” I say. “Nanuq.”

  “Not his methods, but I understand his frustration. He comes from a part of the world that is slowly being destroyed by the encroachments of the five-fingered beings with their smoke and gases.

  “His people refuse to suffer the same fate as the clans of the passenger pigeons, the pronghorn and the bison. They fight the threat of the tundra and ice floes disappearing like the grasslands, the old-growth eastern hardwoods and the western conifer forests.

  “Something needs to change or there will be nothing left for anyone,” he concludes.

  “Okay,” I say. “I get that, too. But if he’s so noble, why is he also targeting Wildlings—what he calls the unborn?”

  Cory and Donalita have been pretty quiet up to now. While I don’t know Donalita, it’s uncharacteristic for Cory, and I keep expecting him to jump in with a comment. But it’s Donalita who speaks up.

  “It’s because Nanuq believes you were made by the five-fingered beings,” she says. “He can’t believe what many of us do—that you are a gift of the Thunders, to be cherished and honoured, not a threat.”

  And here we go, back to my so-called destiny. But at least she’s including all Wildlings in it.

  “None of this matters,” I say. “I’m still going to protect my family and friends, and if that means I have to destroy Nanuq and Vincenzo’s brothers, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  No one makes a comment.

  “The thing I don’t get is,” I go on, “if Nanuq wants to get rid of Wildlings, why was he dumping them here? Vincenzo said they were going to kill us all.”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious,” Cory says. “It looks better if he exiles them to a prison world rather than killing them. A lot of the cousins have yet to make up their minds about where they stand in all of this. Slaughtering Wildlings wouldn’t sit well with them.”

  “But what about beings like Thorn?” I ask.

  Canejo nods. “Some stumble into this place and get trapped, others are here for some perceived wrongdoing.”

  “I was organizing my fellow wardens against Nanuq,” Thorn says.

  “And you?” I ask Canejo.

  He smiles. “I am ever the anomaly. When I ended up in this place, I thought it would be as good a place as any to open my school. You have to admit that there aren’t many distractions.”

  “But you and your students were trapped here, just like everybody else.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask.

  “It means I’m older than Nanuq,” he says, “and there are things I know and can do that he has yet to grow into. Perhaps I was trapped, perhaps I wasn’t. I don’t know because I never tried to leave.”

  I sigh. Cousins sure do like to lay it on thick and mysterious.

  “Well, I can sympathize with Nanuq’s situation as much as the next guy,” I say, “but I’m still taking him down.”

  “The more immediate concern,” Cory says, “is the upcoming assassination attempt on Congressman Householder. Auntie Min has been organizing cousins and people to protect him. With the dog cousins no longer under Nanuq’s control, he might be all right, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Nanuq obviously has other allies, and his strategy is to pin the congressman’s death on a Wildling and get them all locked up for it.”

  Canejo turns to Marina. “Is this Auntie Min the woman you were telling me about?” he asks.

  Marina nods. “Her full name,” Cory tells him, “is Señora Catalina Mariposa, of the Black Witch Moth Clan.”

  Canejo’s
eyebrows raise. “She’s still alive?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?” Marina asks.

  Canejo turns to her. “She’s almost as old as I am, and I remember the first days.”

  “Well, you’re still alive.”

  “This is true,” Canejo tells her. “But I keep a much lower profile. Powerful cousins such as Señora Mariposa tend to attract too many enemies. But that is always the way with warriors.”

  I find it hard to think of Auntie Min as any kind of a warrior.

  “I’m going after Nanuq and the condors,” I say.

  “The choice is yours,” Canejo tells me. “But if Señora Mariposa advises against it, I would hear her out before you set off. And perhaps you need no reminding, but Nanuq is a formidable opponent.”

  “Tell that to Vincenzo.”

  Canejo studies me for a long moment, then nods.

  “Yes, you are brave,” he says. “But are you also wise?”

  He stands up before I can respond and claps his hands. “Students!” he calls. “It’s past time we returned to our studies. Those who wish to return to their old lives may do so, now that our friend Marina has reopened the passages between the worlds. But for the rest of us, we have work to do.”

  He steps up to Marina and clasps her hands. He gazes at her for a long moment, then turns to the rest of us. “I wish you all luck,” he says.

  He lets go of Marina and strides back into the building. Most of his students go with him, but a few remain with us. The kids I recognized from Sunny Hill. Thorn.

  A Chinese girl with a lizard under her skin approaches us. She looks like she’s about to cry. “Can you take us home?” she asks.

  “Of course,” Marina says, putting her arm protectively around her shoulders. Then she looks at Cory and me. “That’s okay, right?”

  “No one who wants to leave will be left behind,” Cory says. Thorn approaches Marina. She lets the girl go, then hugs Thorn hard. After a moment he gently pushes her back and places a meaty hand on each of her shoulders. “I enjoyed meeting you, Mistress Otter,” he says. “Look me up if you’re ever in Tal Avelle.”

  “I will ... and thank you for helping me,” she says as he lets her go. Her eyes are glassy.

  Then Thorn does the step-away thing and disappears.

  Cory starts organizing those who remain, getting them ready to travel back through the worlds.

  “You know,” Marina says in a quiet voice, “I’m a bit surprised that Theo didn’t come, as well.”

  I shoot Des a pained glance. He looks back at me, sympathy in his eyes. I know what he’s thinking. Marina doesn’t know yet that Chaingang died. She was probably grabbed and brought to this place before he actually stopped breathing.

  I look at her. She’s going to take this hard, I think.

  But it turns out I’m the one who has it all wrong.

  “He really wanted to come,” Des tells her, “except Auntie Min said no. She convinced him that we could handle finding you. She’s got him doing some stuff about the rally for her.”

  “What? He’s still alive?” I ask. I can’t help feeling a weird mix of happy and deflated all at once.

  “Dude, why wouldn’t he be? Oh, that’s right. You disappeared before Cory went into his brain and brought him back.”

  “Say what?”

  “Long story,” Des says, looking over at Cory, the same sympathy in his eyes.

  Marina studies him, head cocked to the side.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” she asks.

  “Dude, there’s nothing to tell.”

  She gives him her best don’t-bullshit-me look.

  Cory clears his throat. “Chaingang lured a pack of canids to the Ocean Avers’ compound,” Cory says. “He and his brother set up an ambush and they slaughtered them all.”

  Marina goes pale. She looks from Cory to Des.

  “It wasn’t quite like that,” Des says.

  “Then what was it like?” Cory asks, his posture stiff.

  “They were stalking us, dude. All those dogs. They treed Donalita and me, and also went after Chaingang’s grandmother and Josh’s mom.”

  “What?” I yell. “If anything’s happened to my mother—”

  “Easy, dude,” Des tells me. “Your mom’s safe. The Feds got there in time to stop the attack and Chaingang’s grandmother shot the one coming after her.”

  “I don’t get it,” Marina says. She looks at Cory. “If they were attacking people, why are you so mad? Wouldn’t you defend yourself?”

  “I would. But this wasn’t defence. The canids were only tracking Chaingang when he set up the ambush. They hadn’t attacked him.”

  “Yet,” Donalita adds.

  Cory shoots her a dirty look. “The point is, he never even tried to talk to them. He did what all the gangbangers always do—shoot first, ask questions later.”

  “Were they also under Nanuq’s binding?” Marina asks.

  Cory nods. “And they belonged to one of the same clans that you just exchanged a friendship oath with.”

  Marina looks at the ground and shakes her head.

  “Yeah, it was harsh,” Des says, “but dude, Chaingang didn’t know why they were tracking him or what they were going to do.”

  Cory’s voice is almost a growl. “Because he didn’t take the time to ask.”

  “Sounds like they went after my mom and his grandma,” I say. “Maybe we should hear Chaingang’s side of the story before we start pointing fingers and calling names.”

  “They were my kin,” Cory says, knocking his fist against his chest.

  “Who treated you with so much respect when they captured us earlier,” Donalita adds.

  “Because they were under a binding.”

  Donalita shrugs. “If you hadn’t stopped me, I would have done the same to them as Theo did.”

  Cory bristles. “That doesn’t make either of you right.”

  I think of what I did to Vincenzo’s corpse after he was already dead.

  “We’ve all done things we regret,” I say.

  Cory nods. “Except Chaingang has no regrets.”

  “Neither do I,” Donalita says. “That’s why Theo and I get along so well.” She cocks her head. “Though maybe I like his grandma better. She makes the best lemonade.”

  Cory gives her a tired look, which she ignores.

  “I think it’s because she uses fresh lemons.”

  Cory stands up. “We should get going.”

  We’ve got a half-dozen people who were trapped here in Nanuq’s world waiting for us. All of them perk up at Cory’s words.

  “I can’t go home,” Marina says. “When I do get back, I’ll be grounded forever.”

  “Me too,” Des says.

  Marina nods. “And I need to be at that rally tomorrow.”

  I wish I could just go home and stay there. I’d like to hug my poor mom. She must be going out of her mind.

  “I don’t know that I can make two trips,” Cory says. “Auntie Min probably has things for me to do back in the first world.”

  “Go ahead,” I tell him. “I can get us back. Just tell me, is this a fast world or a slow world?”

  He gives me a puzzled look.

  “How time flows,” I add. “Is it the same as in our world, or does it move differently?”

  “It’s the same. Today’s Friday.”

  “Then there’s no problem. We’ll get there in time for the rally.”

  Cory studies me for a moment, then nods. He gets his new charges to link hands, then walks them out of here. We watch them disappear, one at a time.

  “What did you mean about how time flows?” Marina asks.

  I turn to her. “How long has it been since we were attacked at Tiki Bay?”

  “That happened last night—Thursday.”

  “It’s been way longer for me.”

  “Dude,” Des says. “Is that how you grew your dreads back? You must have been wandering around for freaking ages for them to get that long.
Or were you in Rip Van Winkle land, sleeping?”

  “No, it was something else.”

  The three of them look expectantly at me.

  “So dish,” Marina says when I don’t explain.

  There’s no need for me to glance up to know that there’s still a hawk circling above. It was obvious that Tío Goyo didn’t want me to tell anybody, but he didn’t specifically ask me not to, either.

  These are my friends. My best friends. Or at least Marina and Des are, and we’ve learned the hard way that keeping secrets is a big fail in our gang of three. And considering how Donalita is snuggling up against Des’s side, I guess she might end up becoming a friend as well.

  “Let’s move away from the doors,” I say.

  I get up from the steps by the front of the building and walk over to one of the campfires abandoned by the canids. I don’t say it, but I don’t want to talk about my experiences where Canejo or his students might overhear me.

  I add some wood to the fire and sit down on a flat rock, waiting for the others to join me. The three of them settle in, Marina to my right, Des and Donalita across the fire.

  “I’ll go first,” I say.

  I tell them everything that happened to me since I jumped off the cliff by Tiki Bay in pursuit of Vincenzo, including how I went crazy and tore his body to pieces. Then they fill me in on what’s been happening with them.

  It takes us a while to exchange war stories.

  “So, are you two kinds of Wildling now?” Des asks. “Because, dude, that’s freaking awesome.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not really a hawk—you just saw me that way.”

  “It sounds amazing,” Marina says.

  Des is nodding. “Yeah, except I’m still trying to get my head around it. It’s not like astral projection, right? You just leave your body and it what? Dissolves into the ground? And when you want it back, you just call it up and it’ll be whatever you want it to be? Like, with the longer dreads?”

  “That’s pretty much it.”

  “So dude, you should make yourself all tall and buff when you come back.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not who I am.”

  “But you got your dreads back.”