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Unnatural Creatures

Page 18

by Neil Gaiman


  “So they are,” said Amos. “What do you make of that?”

  The grey man scowled and contemplated and cogitated, but could not make anything of it. At last he said, “Never mind. Come and eat.”

  The sailors carried the black trunk below with them, and Amos and his host ate a heavy and hearty meal. The grey man speared all the radishes from the salad on his knife and flipped them into a funnel he had stuck in a round opening in the trunk: Fulrmp, Melrulf, Ulfmphgrumf!

  FIVE

  “When do I go after the next piece?” Amos asked when they had finished.

  “Tomorrow evening when the sunset is golden and the sky is turquoise and the rocks are stained red in the setting sun,” said the grey man. “I shall watch the whole proceedings with sunglasses.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” said Amos. “You won’t get such a headache.”

  That night Amos again went to the brig. No one had missed the jailer yet. So there was no guard at all.

  “How is our friend doing?” Amos asked the prince, pointing to the bundle of blankets in the corner.

  “Well enough,” said Jack. “I gave him food and water when they brought me some. I think he’s asleep now.”

  “Good,” said Amos. “So one-third of your magic mirror has been found. Tomorrow evening I go off for the second piece. Would you like to come with me?”

  “I certainly would,” said Jack. “But tomorrow evening it will not be so easy; for there will be no mist to hide me.”

  “Then we’ll work it so you won’t have to hide,” said Amos. “If I remember you right, the second piece is on the top of a windy mountain so high the North Wind lives in a cave there.”

  “That’s right,” said Jack.

  “Very well then, I have a plan.” Again Amos began to whisper through the bars, and Jack smiled and nodded.

  They sailed all that night and all the next day, and toward evening they pulled in to a rocky shore where just a few hundred yards away a mountain rose high and higher into the clear twilight.

  The sailors gathered on the deck of the ship just as the sun began to set, and the grey man put one grey gloved hand on Amos’s shoulder and pointed to the mountain with his other.

  “There, among the windy peaks, is the cave of the North Wind. Even higher, on the highest and windiest peak, is the second fragment of the mirror. It is a long, dangerous, and treacherous climb. Shall I expect you back for breakfast?”

  “Certainly,” said Amos. “Fried eggs, if you please, once over lightly, and plenty of hot sausages.”

  “I will tell the cook,” said the grey man.

  “Good,” said Amos. “Oh, but one more thing. You say it is windy there. I shall need a good supply of rope, then, and perhaps you can spare a man to go with me. A rope is not much good if there is a person only on one end. If I have someone with me, I can hold him if he blows off, and he can do the same for me.” Amos turned to the sailors. “What about that man there? He has a rope and is well muffled against the wind.”

  “Take whom you like,” said the grey man, “so long as you bring back my mirror.” The well-muffled sailor with the coil of rope on his shoulder stepped forward with Amos. Had the grey man not been wearing his sunglasses against the sunset, he might have noticed something familiar about the sailor, who kept looking at the mountain and would not look back. But as it was, he suspected nothing.

  Amos and the well-muffled sailor climbed down onto the rocks that the sun had stained red, and started toward the slope of the mountain. Once the grey man raised his glasses as he watched them go but lowered them quickly, for it was the most golden hour of the sunset then. The sun sank, and he could not see them anymore. Even so, he stood at the rail a long time, till a sound in the darkness roused him from his reverie: Blmvghm!

  Amos and Jack climbed long and hard through the evening. When darkness fell, at first they thought they would have to stop, but the clear stars made a mist over the jagged rocks, and a little later the moon rose. After that it was much easier going. Shortly the wind began. First a breeze merely tugged at their collars. Then rougher gusts began to nip their fingers. At last buffets of wind flattened them against the rock one moment, then tried to jerk them loose the next. The rope was very useful indeed, and neither one complained. They simply went on climbing, steadily through the hours. Once Jack paused a moment to look back over his shoulder at the silver sea and said something that Amos couldn’t hear.

  “What did you say?” cried Amos above the howl.

  “I said,” the prince cried back, “look at the moon!”

  Now Amos looked over his shoulder too and saw that the white disk was going slowly down.

  They began again, climbing faster than ever, but in another hour the bottom of the moon had already sunk below the edge of the ocean. At last they gained a fair-sized ledge where the wind was not so strong. Above, there seemed no way to go any higher.

  Jack gazed out at the moon and sighed. “If it were daylight, I wonder if I could I see all the way to the Far Rainbow from here.”

  “You might,” said Amos. But though his heart was with Jack, he still felt a good spirit was important to keep up. “But we might see it a lot more clearly from the top of this mountain.” But as he said it, the last light of the moon winked out. Now even the stars were gone, and the blackness about them was complete. But as they turned to seek shelter in the rising wind, Amos cried, “There’s a light!”

  “Where’s a light?” cried Jack.

  “Glowing behind those rocks,” cried Amos.

  An orange glow outlined the top of a craggy boulder, and they hurried toward it over the crumbly ledge. When they climbed the rock, they saw that the light came from behind another wall of stone farther away, and they scrambled toward it, pebbles and bits of ice rolling under their hands. Behind the wall they saw that the light was even stronger above another ridge, and they did their best to climb it without falling who-knows-how-many hundreds of feet to the foot of the mountain. At last they pulled themselves onto the ledge and leaned against the side, panting. Far ahead of them, orange flames flickered brightly and there was light on each face. For all the cold wind, their foreheads were still shiny with the sweat of the effort.

  “Come on,” said Amos, “just a little way….”

  And from half a dozen directions they heard: Come on, just a little…just a little way…little way…

  They stared at each other and Jack jumped up. “Why, we must be in the cave of…”

  And echoing back they heard “…must be in the cave…in the cave of…cave of…

  “…the North Wind,” whispered Amos.

  They started forward again toward the fires. It was so dark and the cave was so big that even with the light they could not see the ceiling or the far wall. The fires themselves burned in huge scooped-out basins of stone. They had been put there for a warning, because just beyond them the floor of the cave dropped away and there was only darkness.

  “I wonder if she’s at home,” whispered Jack.

  Then before them was a rushing and a rumbling and a rolling like thunder, and from the blackness a voice said, “I am the North Wind, and I am very much at home.”

  A blast of air sent the fires reeling in the basins, and the sailor’s cap that Jack wore flew back into the darkness.

  “Are you really the North Wind?” Amos asked.

  “Yes, I am really the North Wind,” came the thunderous voice. “Now you tell me who you are before I blow you into little pieces and scatter them over the whole wide world.”

  “I am Amos, and this is Jack, Prince of the Far Rainbow,” said Amos. “We wandered into your cave by accident and meant nothing impolite. But the moon went down, so we had to stop climbing, and we saw your light.”

  “Where were you climbing to?”

  Now Jack said, “To the top of the mountain where there is a piece of a mirror.”

  “Yes,” said the North Wind, “there is a mirror there. A wizard so great and so old
and so terrible that you and I never need worry about him placed it there a year and a day ago. I blew him there myself in return for a favor he did me a million years past, for it was he who made this cave for me by artful and devious magic.”

  “We have come to take the mirror back,” said Jack.

  The North Wind laughed so loudly that Amos and the prince had to hold on to the walls to keep from blowing away. “It is so high and so cold up there that you will never reach it,” said the Wind. “Even the wizard had to ask my help to put it there.”

  “Then,” called Amos, “you could help us get there too?”

  The North Wind was silent a whole minute. Then she asked, “Why should I? The wizard built my cave for me. What have you done to deserve such help?”

  “Nothing yet,” said Amos. “But we can help you if you help us.”

  “How can you help me?” asked the Wind.

  “Well,” said Amos, “like this. You say you are really the North Wind. How can you prove it?”

  “How can you prove you are really you?” returned the Wind.

  “Easily,” said Amos. “I have red hair, I have freckles, I am five feet, seven inches tall, and I have brown eyes. All you need do is go to Hidalga who owns the Mariners’ Tavern and ask her who has red hair, is so tall, with such eyes, and she will tell you, ‘It is my own darling Amos.’ And Hidalga’s word should be proof enough for anybody. Now, what do you look like?”

  “What do I look like?” demanded the North Wind.

  “Yes, describe yourself to me.”

  “I’m big and I’m cold and I’m blustery—”

  “That’s what you feel like,” said Amos. “Not what you look like. I want to know how I would recognize you if I saw you walking quietly down the street toward me when you were not working.”

  “I’m freezing and I’m icy and I’m chilling—”

  “Again, that’s not what you look like; it’s what you feel like.”

  The North Wind rumbled to herself for a while and at last confessed: “But no one has seen the wind.”

  “So I had heard,” said Amos. “But haven’t you ever looked into a mirror?”

  “Alas,” sighed the North Wind, “mirrors are always kept inside people’s houses where I am never invited. So I never had a chance to look in one. Besides, I have been too busy.”

  “Well,” said Amos, “if you help get us to the top of the mountain, we will let you look into the fragment of the mirror.” Then he added, “Which is more than your friend the wizard did, apparently.” Jack gave Amos a little kick, for it is not a good thing to insult a wizard so great and so old and so terrible as all that, even if you or I don’t have to worry about him.

  The North Wind mumbled and groaned around the darkness for a while and at last said, “Very well. Climb on my shoulders, and I shall carry you up to the highest peak of this mountain. When I have looked into your mirror, I will carry you down again to where you may descend the rest of the way by yourselves.”

  Amos and Jack were happy as they had ever been, and the North Wind roared to the edge of the ledge, and they climbed on her back, one on each shoulder. They held themselves tight by her long, thick hair, and the Wind’s great wings filled the cave with such a roaring that the fires, had they not been maintained by magic, would have been blown out. The sound of the great wing feathers clashing against one another was like steel against bronze.

  The North Wind rose up in her cave and sped toward the opening that was so high they could not see the top and so wide they could not see the far wall, and her leaf-matted hair brushed the ceiling, and her long, ragged toenails scraped the floor, and the tips of her wings sent boulders crashing from either side as she leapt into the black. They circled so high they cleared the clouds, and once again the stars were like diamonds dusting the velvet night. She flew so long that at last the sun began to shoot spears of gold across the horizon; and when the ball of the sun had rolled halfway over the edge of the sea, she settled one foot on a crag to the left, her other foot on the pinnacle to the right, and bent down and set them on the tallest peak in the middle.

  “Now where is the mirror?” asked Amos, looking around.

  The dawning sun splashed the snow and ice with silver.

  “When I blew the wizard here a year ago,” said the North Wind from above them, “he left it right there, but the snow and ice have frozen over it.”

  Amos and the prince began to brush the snow from a lump on the ground, and beneath the white covering was pure and glittering ice. It was a very large lump, nearly as large as the black trunk of the skinny grey man.

  “It must be in the center of this chunk of ice,” said Jack. As they stared at the shiny, frozen hunk, something moved inside it, and they saw it was the form of lovely Lea, who had appeared to them in the pool.

  She smiled at them and said, “I am glad you have come for the second piece of the mirror, but it is buried in this frozen shard of ice. Once, when I was a girl, I chopped through a chunk of ice to get to an earring my mother had dropped the night before in a winter dance. That block of ice was the coldest and hardest ice any man or woman had ever seen. This block is ten degrees colder. Can you chop through it?”

  “I can try,” said Jack, “or perhaps die trying. But I can do no more and no less.” And he took the small pickax they had used to help them climb the mountain.

  “Will you be finished before breakfast time?” asked Amos, glancing at the sun.

  “Of course before breakfast,” said the prince, and fell to chopping. The ice chips flew around him, and he worked up such a sweat that in all the cold he still had to take off his shirt. He worked so hard that in one hour he had laid open the chunk, and there, sticking out, was the broken fragment of mirror. Tired but smiling, the prince lifted it from the ice and handed it to Amos. Then he went to pick up his shirt and coat.

  “All right, North Wind,” cried Amos. “Take a look at yourself.”

  “Stand so that the sun is in your eyes,” said the North Wind, towering over Amos, “because I do not want anyone else to see before I have.”

  So Amos and Jack stood with the sun in their eyes, and the great blustering North Wind squatted down to look at herself in the mirror. She must have been pleased with what she saw, because she gave a long, loud laugh that nearly blew them from the peak. Then she leapt a mile into the air, turned over three times, then swooped down upon them, grabbing them up and setting them on her shoulders. Amos and Jack clung to her long, thick hair as the Wind began to fly down the mountain. The Wind cried out in a windy voice: “Now I shall tell all the leaves and whisper to all the waves who I am and what I look like, so they can chatter about it among themselves in autumn and rise and doff their caps to me before a winter storm.” The North Wind was happier than she had ever been since the wizard first made her cave.

  It gets light on the top of a mountain well before it does at the foot, and this mountain was so high that when they reached the bottom the sun was nowhere in sight, and they had a good half hour until breakfast time.

  “You run and get back in your cell,” said Amos, “and when I have given you enough time, I shall return and eat my eggs and sausages.”

  So the prince ran down the rocks to the shore and snuck onto the ship, and Amos waited for the sun to come up. When it did, he started back.

  SIX

  But, at the boat, all had not gone according to Amos’s plan during the night. The grey man, still puzzling over Amos’s wet clothes—and at last he began to inquire whom Amos had solicited from the sailors to go with him—had gone to the brig himself.

  In the brig he saw immediately that there was no jailer and then that there was no prisoner. Furious, he rushed into the cell and began to tear apart the bundle of blankets in the corner. And out of the blankets rolled the jailer, bound and gagged and dressed in the colorful costume of the Prince of the Far Rainbow. For it was the jailer’s clothes that Jack had worn when he had gone with Amos to the mountain.

&nbs
p; When the gag came off, the story came out, and the part of the story the jailer had slept through, the grey man could guess for himself. So he untied the jailer and called the sailors and made plans for Amos’s and the prince’s return. The last thing the grey man did was take the beautiful costume back to his cabin where the black trunk was waiting.

  When Amos came up to the ship with the mirror under his arm, he called, “Here’s your mirror. Where are my eggs and sausages?”

  “Sizzling hot and waiting,” said the grey man, lifting his sunglasses. “Where is the sailor you took to help you?”

  “Alas,” said Amos, “he was blown away in the wind.” He climbed up the ladder and handed the grey man the mirror. “Now we only have a third to go, if I remember right. When do I start looking for that?”

  “This afternoon when the sun is its highest and hottest,” said the grey man.

  “Don’t I get a chance to rest?” asked Amos. “I have been climbing up and down mountains all night.”

  “You may take a nap,” said the grey man. “But come and have breakfast first.” The grey man put his arm around Amos’s shoulder and took him down to his cabin where the cook brought them a big, steaming platter of sausages and eggs.

  “You have done very well,” said the grey man, pointing to the wall where he had hung the first two pieces of mirror together. Now they could make out what the shape of the third would be. “And if you get the last one, you will have done very well indeed.”

  “I can almost feel the weight of those diamonds and emeralds and gold and pearls right now,” said Amos.

  “Can you really?” asked the grey man. He pulled a piece of green silk from his pocket, went to the black box, and stuffed it into a small square door: Orlmnb!

  “Where is the third mirror hidden?” asked Amos.

  “Two leagues short of over there is a garden of violent colors and rich perfume, where black butterflies glisten on the rims of pink marble fountains, and the only thing white in it is a silver-white unicorn who guards the third piece of the mirror.”

 

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