Once upon a Summer Day fs-1

by Dennis McKiernan

  “Oui,” said Borel, chewing a biscuit. “And there is this as well: because the boundaries of Faery are quite tricky, I would have us enter the Endless Sands, have you fly as high as is safe and look and come back down. If you’ve seen nought, then we’ll return to this side, to move on solid ground instead of slogging through loose sand as we make our way somewhat down the marge and enter again, and repeat the process.”

  “But, my lord, a small move along this side of the border can shift us greatly along the other side… and vice versa I add.”

  Borel nodded. “Rightly so, Flic, yet if that be the case I can only hope that a small move on this side is a greater move on the other.”

  “How will we know?” asked Flic.

  Swallowing a bite of jerky, Borel said, “We’ll leave a marker lying in the sand here, and then come back to this side, move along the border a bit, and then go in and see. If all is well, we’ll continue doing so. And by leaving markers at each crossing, we’ll know if we’ve gone too far and need to double back.”

  “What kind of markers, my lord? I have nothing whatsoever to leave except Argent and his scabbard and belt, and I will certainly not abandon them. I mean, after all, my epee might be needed ere we are done. And there is this, too: if it is you who leaves something behind in the sand, and if the search is long, then you will be as naked as I ere we are finished.”

  Borel took a bite of jerky and chewed a moment, then said, “Right you are. What would you suggest instead?”

  “I think I will be able to see a marking in the sand itself. And with your huge feet, my lord, you should be able to shuffle about and leave tracks deep enough for me to espy.”

  Borel laughed, then sobered. “Though the sand is quite loose and some likely to spill back in, still there is no wind, and so a mark might last long enough for us to search. Hence, with my very huge feet I’ll scrape out a deep number in the sand at each crossing- un, deux, trois, and so on-so that we’ll know if somehow the twilight borders have managed to circle us ’round.”

  “Circle us ’round?”

  “Yes, Flic. You see, I think if we have so-called Endless Sands, then perhaps somewhere within will be margins such that when one steps through he comes to the opposite side of the sands and so they merely seem endless rather than truly being so.”

  “I do not understand,” said Flic, taking up another finger of honey and licking it clean.

  “Think of it this way, Flic: say you are in a room filled with sand, but there are two dark arches on opposite sides of the room. And when you step out through one arch, you come in through the other, thus entering the very same roomful of sand. Time after time you walk across the room and go out the far arch, only to enter the near one, and thereby enter the same room of sand. Now I ask you, wouldn’t the sand seem endless?”

  “Oui, my lord.”

  “Yet had you left a special marker in the sand-an object, a particular track, or the like-you would pass it again and again, and thereby know the sand is not truly endless, but only seems so.”

  Flic clapped his hands. “How clever you are, my lord.”

  Borel frowned. “Had I been clever, then perhaps I would know what Lady Lot meant when she said I had already missed one chance to find the sands.”

  “Ah, those Fates: what do they know?”

  “Everything,” said Borel. “At least everything in its due time.”

  “Pish,” said Flic, snorting. “I mean, look, you answered their riddles right off.”

  “Ah, Flic, they posed me riddles the answers to which I already knew,” said Borel. “And what’s more, they knew that I knew, or knew I would cipher it out. I think they are simply bound by some unwritten law or higher power or unbreakable edict to require a service, pose a riddle, and then render aid with another riddle.”

  “Well, my lord, that’s easy for you to say. As for me, I would have failed to answer the one about me falling behind and then passing the Sprite in second place. I mean, not that I would ever fall behind”-Flic growled-“and certainly not twice as the Fates would have it.”

  Borel smiled and said, “That may be, Flic, but again I say, the riddles were simple. The true test was in bearing them across the water.”

  They ate in silence for a while, but then Flic said, “Oh, my goodness.”

  “What?” asked Borel.

  “Just this, my prince: if somehow someone were dropped into the room of sand where there were but two dark arches, and if there were no other way out, then he would be trapped forever.”

  “How extraordinary, Flic. Ha! And you say I’m clever?”

  They ate a moment more, and then Borel’s eyes widened in revelation. “I say, Flic, mayhap that’s the way of the Castle of Shadows beyond the Black Wall of the World.”

  “My lord?”

  “It would explain why Orbane is trapped, why he cannot get out.”

  “See?” said Flic, “I told you you were clever.”

  “Which way, my lord,” said Flic, “right or left?”

  They had finished breaking their fast, and now they stood facing the twilight border.

  “In,” said Borel.

  “No, my lord, I mean after we come back out. Which way, then?”

  “Ah,” said Borel, “I suppose one way is as good as another.”

  “Not if we choose the wrong way,” said Flic.

  “Indeed,” said Borel, frowning. “We’ll let Dame Fortune decide.” He spit in his palm and slapped two fingers into the gob. “Dextral,” he said, for the spit flew rightward.

  In through the twilight border they went, and Flic and Buzzer flew up beyond seeing, while Borel shuffled a long, deeply trenched 1 in the sand.

  He had just finished when Buzzer and Flic came flying back. “Nought, my lord.”

  Out through the twilight border they went, and Borel said, “I will trot five hundred paces, and then we’ll go back in.” And off he loped, Flic and Buzzer atop his hat resting.

  Once more they penetrated the twilight marge, and as Borel trenched out a 2, Flic and Buzzer flew high and then returned. “Ne rien,” said Flic.

  “Nothing at all?” said Borel.

  “Oh, I did see the un you made in the sand,” said Flic, and I think it might be a bit farther away than you ran on the woodland side of the bound, though I am not certain.”

  Borel turned up a hand and said, “Farther or not, if it stays that way, we’ll cover more ground by running on good firm ground than trying to run through loose sand.”

  Off they went once more, and again, and again, and again…

  They searched all day, twice having to backtrack because they had gone beyond being able to see the trenched number. They had only stopped for a short midday meal, and then had continued. But their search was futile, and now the nearly full moon had risen and the sun was setting.

  “One day,” gritted Borel. “One day is all that is left.”

  Flic nodded and said, “Though Buzzer cannot aid, still we can search by the light of the nearly full moon, my lord.”

  Borel growled and said, “We don’t even know whether we are going the right way, Flic.”

  “Nevertheless, my lord, we cannot stop.”

  “Oh, I do not intend to stop,” said Borel, “yet I wonder whether we should have gone leftward instead of rightward. -Regardless, let us press on.”

  With Flic and Buzzer back on the hat, again Borel trotted, and Flic said, “Uh-oh. Ahead, my lord.”

  “I see her,” said Borel.

  In the fore, on the far side of a wide stream, a lovely demoiselle sat in the gathering twilight.

  “It might be one of those Fey, my prince.”

  “Indeed,” said Borel, “for there is but one of the Fates we have yet to meet.”

  “But what if it’s not her?” said Flic. “What if instead it’s a deadly creature of some sort?”

  “ ’Tis a chance I must take,” replied Borel.

  “Then Buzzer and I will get off at that tree this side, m
y lord,” said Flic, “for I would not tempt Fate by getting too close. But if it is a trap, Argent and I will be ready.”

  Even as the Sprite and the bee flew to a limb, Borel splashed across the stream and then bowed. “My lady, need you assistance?”

  The black-haired, black-eyed, slender, and stunningly beautiful demoiselle sighed and said, “My slippers and hose will get wet should I cross in them. And should I remove them, my delicate feet will be bruised. Will you bear me over, my most handsome sieur?”

  “Oh, indeed, Demoiselle.”

  Borel turned his back and said, “Hop on, my lady, and we shall hie.”

  Her silvery laugh answered him. “Sieur, most handsome sieur, you are no horse, and I am no rider. I would have you bear me across held ever so securely in your strong arms.”

  Borel turned about. “You are not afraid I will fall?”

  “Oh, la!” she said, placing a delicate hand on his wrist and looking up into his ice-blue eyes with her own eyes of black depths so deep one could surely drown in them. “With you so devilishly handsome and debonair? I saw how well you carry yourself; your swagger speaks of duels fought and never lost. You move as would a Wolf, and they are never off their nimble feet, except of course when they rest beside a mate. But since you have no mate, per se, you should take your ease by lying with a lover, n’est-il pas ainsi? ”

  “Perhaps,” said Borel, grinning, and he swept the demoiselle up in his arms.

  As he turned to wade across the stream, her heady perfume, almost a musk, filled him with desire. And even as he stepped into the water, somehow her hands were within his leather jacket and rubbing across his chest and down his abdomen and lower still. And her breath was sweet and her lips inviting, and her eyes were filled with the heat of passion, and she raised her mouth toward his.

  “No,” he said, his voice but a whisper, and he turned his head aside as he waded. “My heart belongs to another.” Yet in spite of himself, he began to harden.

  “Ah, but, mon cheri,” she whispered, her voice husky with need, “it would be a mere dalliance, and not as if it were something serious. Will you not lie with me?”

  “Non, mademoiselle,” Borel replied, and he waded on.

  “Do you not find me beautiful, desirable? Do you not want me?” Then she laughed, somehow her hands down in his leathers. “Ah, yes, I see you do.”

  “Mademoiselle, that you excite me, I cannot deny, yet-”

  “She is a succubus!” shouted Flic, drawing Argent and taking to wing.

  But even as the Sprite darted toward the prince, Borel reached the opposite bank and knelt to set the demoiselle to her delicate feet, and the moment he did so, she transformed into a barefoot, toothless, doddering crone in black robes, and as if from a distance, there came the sound of a loom.

  Even as Flic cried out and reversed course, “Lady Doom,” said Borel, yet kneeling.

  In the twilight the black-eyed, wrinkled crone gaped a gummy smile and said, “Heh.”

  “She Who Forever Fixes the Events of Time Into the Past,” said Borel.

  The crone nodded but said, “More like the dustbin of history, Prince Borel.”

  “Lady Urd,” said Borel, standing and bowing, and as he did so he took her hand and kissed her fingers.

  “Heh, bold,” said Urd, again flashing a toothless grin. “but I think a kiss on the hand is not nearly as thrilling as bold caresses, eh?” She cackled in glee.

  Borel laughed. “Indeed not.”

  Sobering, Urd said, “You did very well, my lad, for you were sorely tested. Others would have certainly succumbed.”

  “My Lady Urd, to, um, lie with Fate seems a rather risky proposition.”

  “Heh. Perhaps not to lie with Fate is even more risky… a woman scorned, you see.”

  “Madame, as I say, my heart-”

  “Yes, yes,” snapped Urd, “given to another. I know.”

  “Lady Urd, are you here to help me?”

  “Of course, and you have borne me across water, as you did Skuld and Verdandi, my two elder sisters.”

  “Don’t forget, he fed them, too,” shouted Flic, “and so my prince is well ahead in the favor game.”

  “Cheeky little thing, isn’t he,” said Urd, her mouth grinning widely, her gums showing.

  “Yes, my lady,” said Borel.

  “Nevertheless he is right, Prince Borel: you are ahead in the favor game.”

  “Will it buy your help?” asked Borel.

  “You have met the first requirement by doing a favor for me, but still you must answer a riddle before I can aid, for I am bound,” said Urd.

  “Then you do know I have the answer to the riddle of the Sphinx as well as the answers to the riddles you and your sisters posed to Camille, and those most recent riddles posed by the Ladies Skuld and Verdandi?”

  “Of course, of course,” said Urd.

  “Then ask away, Lady Doom,” said Borel.

  Urd looked afar at Flic, and the Sprite groaned but yelled out, “I would not fall behind!”

  “Heh,” barked Urd. “Cheeky indeed. Well, here it is, young man: “If Flic were in a Spritely contest

  For several objects to find,

  But in some manner unknown to him

  He had fallen behind-”

  — Urd looked at Flic and cackled, and Flic groaned and turned his back to her- “And there was a single object left

  Down in a dip on a dint-filled plain,

  How should he go about searching

  And be the one to win?”

  “I wouldn’t fall behind, I wouldn’t fall behind, I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t,” muttered Flic on his limb beside now-sleeping Buzzer.

  “My Lady Doom,” said Borel, “one way is to fly very high so as to see down into every dip on that dint-filled plain.”

  “Indeed,” said Urd, again cackling at Flic.

  “My lady, the aid?” said Borel.

  “Eh, eh, yes, of course,” said Urd. “Now let me see, there is something you need to know, and it is this: “The Endless Sands run forever,

  But search as you have this day,

  And you will find her never,

  Yet there is indeed a way:

  “Seek the black oak sinister

  Beside the twilight wall,

  Behind it a narrow portal,

  Yet beware the fall.

  “And this I will tell you for nought: it lies afar and you cannot rest.”

  “Can you say no more, Lady Urd?” called Flic. “I mean, he fed two of your sisters, and so he is ahead.”

  Urd nodded, and held out her hand, and of a sudden Buzzer appeared therein, and she whispered to the sleeping bee, yet what she said neither Borel nor Flic could hear.

  She handed the bee to Borel and said, “Now the scales are balanced. But I warn you: remember all you were told, else you will fail in the end.”

  “But which way do we go, Lady Urd?” cried Flic, yet the sound of the loom swelled, and then vanished as did the Lady Doom.

  45

  Sinistral

  “My lord, she did not say which way to go.”

  “The direction is in the aid she gave,” said Borel. “ ‘Find the black oak sinister,’ she said.”

  “My lord?”

  “Sinister, leftward, Flic. We have been going the wrong way from the outset, for we chose dextral.”

  Flic growled and said, “I knew we should never have trusted that slapped spit, for Dame Fortune oft plays dastardly tricks.” Then he groaned. “All that searching we did, and all of it away from instead of toward.”

  “Take heart, Flic, for now we simply must find the black oak next to the twilight bound.”

  “My lord,” said Flic, “there were no black oaks nigh the border the way we came.”

  “None?”

  “None, my lord. It means we must go all the way back to where we started and then beyond to find Lady Urd’s dark tree.”

  Borel sighed. “She warned us: ‘And this I will tell you for nought:
it lies afar and you cannot rest.’ ”

  “Oui, my lord,” said Flic, “those were her very words.” Flic glanced at the gibbous moon, the orb nearly full and now some four fists above the horizon and on the rise, and he said, “And there is but a day remaining.”

  Borel, too, looked at the moon in the night sky. “Less than a day, my friend, for even as does the sun set on the morrow, so shall the full moon rise. We must find that black oak well ere then, for we know not what we will face in the Endless Sands.”

  “Daggers, my lord,” said Flic, “that’s what we’ll face, whatever they might be.”

  “Oui, Flic, whatever they might be,” said Borel. Then he glanced at the woodland nearby. “And you are certain that there are no black oaks between here and the place we started?”

  “None whatsoever,” said Flic. “Do you know what a black oak looks like?”

  “Non, Flic, for I am of the Winterwood, where all trees but evergreens are barren and snow- or ice-laden. Though I do know pine and yew and fir and the like, I simply did not pay heed to the differences among the barren trees.”

  “No matter, my lord, for I do know the black oak.”

  Borel looked at Buzzer asleep in his hand. “Then let us hie, and as I run, you rest, sleep if you can, for Urd has said we’ve a long journey ahead, and I would have you afresh when we reach the place where we began.”

  “Oui, Prince Borel,” said Flic, even then yawning. “But let us away, and now, for the moon stays not her course for any.”

  Borel set dormant Buzzer within the tricocked brim of his hat, and Flic took a seat there as well, and back the way they had come did Borel begin his run.

  Throughout the moon- and starlit night the prince loped alongside the twilight bound, while the heavens above wheeled slowly ’round, and the moon sailed serenely on, and neither the stars nor the argent orb paused even a jot in deference to the desperate drama unfolding below. On Borel ran and on, occasionally pausing briefly for a drink at a stream or from his waterskin.

  All night he ran, growing ever more weary, and as first light began to grace the skies he came to the place where the Fairy horse had brought them in the dawn of the day before.

  “Waken, Flic, waken!” called Borel. “I am back where we began.”