Felthrup reached to adjust his spectacles, then laughed: they were still gone. "Cross-references, Mr. Orfuin," he said. "I began with Dreams Dreams, an entry that ran to some forty-eight pages. Around the thirtieth, I learned of the theory of Occulted Architecture, which states that the objects in a dream-land, like those in any other world, are made of smaller building blocks: atoms, cells, particles too small for any eye to discern-except the mage's, and those of magical creatures. They, being able to perceive the building pattern, can also learn to change it-to turn a rat into a man, candies into worms, a damp tunnel into a castle corridor. Arunis used this ability to torture me for several months, once he discovered my dream of scholarship.

"But the Polylex Polylex goes on to say that dream-lands are not exactly infinite. Like countries in a waking world, they goes on to say that dream-lands are not exactly infinite. Like countries in a waking world, they do do possess edges: frontiers, borders, watchtowers, walls. Some of the mightiest walls are those erected possess edges: frontiers, borders, watchtowers, walls. Some of the mightiest walls are those erected between dreamers between dreamers. They are invisible even to the dreamer himself, but they are also essential: they prevent us from wandering, by accident or ill design, into the dreams of others.

"Mages, however, can pa.s.s through these walls as though they do not exist."

"If that were not so I'd have fewer customers," said Orfuin, "though not everyone who comes here does so in a dream."

"Well, Mr. Orfuin," continued Felthrup, "at that point the Polylex Polylex suggested I consult the entry for suggested I consult the entry for Trespa.s.s, Magical Trespa.s.s, Magical. How fortunate that I did! For that entry described at some length the consequences of dream-invasion for the one so violated. They are mostly horrible. Because Arunis trespa.s.sed so often and so aggressively into my dreams, I may eventually come to suffer from insomnia, sleepwalking, fear of intimacy and verbal reticence."

"Surely not the last?" said Orfuin with concern.

"Oh, it is likely, sir, and narcolepsy, and excessive familiarity too. But that is all beside the point. What matters is this: that those whose dreams have been invaded sometimes find that they have been bestowed with an equal but opposite ability- an equal but opposite ability-that is, to enter the dream of the one who invaded them."

"That is true," said Orfuin. "The wall between two dreamers, once transgressed, is never afterward a perfect barrier."

"So it proved with me," said Felthrup. "My great benefactor Ramachni, wherever his true self has gone, pa.s.sed into my dream and gave me the power to fight back against Arunis. That act saved my life: for sleep had become such misery that I was performing the most extreme acts of self-torture to keep myself awake. And when at last I had the courage to dream again, I made a shocking discovery: my dreams no longer just started started, with a bang as it were, in the middle of a fight or dance or bowl of soup. Not at all. Since Ramachni's visit, I see my dream coming see my dream coming. Like the doorway to your club, it begins as a tiny square of light in the darkness. Very quickly that square grows into a window, and before I know it, the window crashes against me, and I tumble into the dream. Strange, and useless, I thought: for I was as helpless to control this process as I was tonight, flailing around out there. out there."

Felthrup lifted his head, indicating the rushing blackness beyond the terrace. "The River of Shadows," he said, musing. "What is it, Mr. Orfuin? Through which world does it run?"

Orfuin paused for a long sip of tea. "The River is the dark essence of thought," he said at last, "for thought, more than anything else in the universe, has the power to leap between worlds. It belongs therefore to all worlds where conscious life exists. And yet strangely enough, consciousness tends to blind us to its presence. I have even heard it said that the more a world's inhabitants unlock the secret workings of the universe-its occult architecture, its pulleys and gears-the deeper the River of Shadows sinks beneath the earth. Societies of master technicians, those who trap the energy of suns, and grow their food in laboratories, and build machines that carry them on plumes of fire through the void: they cannot find the River at all.

"But we are straying from your tale, Felthrup. You were speaking of these dream-windows. You fall through them helplessly, you say?"

"No longer!" said Felthrup. "Once again the Polylex Polylex came to my rescue. In a footnote to the came to my rescue. In a footnote to the Dreams Dreams entry-I revere the humble footnote, sir, don't you?-the book provides a list of exercises for taking entry-I revere the humble footnote, sir, don't you?-the book provides a list of exercises for taking conscious control of the unconscious conscious control of the unconscious. And what do you suppose? I mastered those exercises, and found I could slow the approach of my dream-window. Eventually I learned to stop it altogether and examine the dream from the outside, like a wanderer looking in on a firelit home. If I wish to enter, I do so. If not, I simply wave my hand, and the window shatters like a reflection in a pool. But the most astonishing part was yet to come.

"Several nights ago I noticed a second window, a second dream, shining at some distance from the first. It was the sorcerer's, Mr. Orfuin: somewhere on the Chathrand Chathrand, Arunis was asleep, and sending his dream-self out to prowl the ship. I dared not approach it: suppose my new skills failed me, and I tumbled into the sorcerer's dream? Suppose he sensed me outside the window, and by some magic drew me in? Ramachni gave me the power to master my own dreams, a task I am barely equal to. But should Arunis lay hands on me within his own-"

"You would become his slave, in waking as in dream," said Orfuin with conviction. "And when he had finished with you, he could break your mind like a sparrow's egg, between two fingers. Or toy with it, for the rest of your natural life."

He stood abruptly, as though shaking off a spell, and walked to the edge of his terrace, where the wind of the lightless River tore at his spa.r.s.e hair.

"To be held in that mage's invisible cell, prey to any torture that occurs to him, forever. There could hardly be a more awful fate in all the worlds."

Felthrup said nothing. In the club, someone was tuning a mandolin.

With his back still turned, Orfuin added, "You knew this in your heart, did you not? Before you leaped willingly into his dream."

"Ah," said Felthrup, "you guessed."

"Only now," said Orfuin. "You were the little yddek yddek that hid under my chair. The first such creature I had seen in many months. The one who swam out of the River some twenty minutes after Arunis himself." that hid under my chair. The first such creature I had seen in many months. The one who swam out of the River some twenty minutes after Arunis himself."

"I was," said Felthrup, "though I did not know I would become that strange creature, all tentacles and jointed sh.e.l.l. I only knew that I must learn what he was doing, for even from a distance, gazing fearfully at the window of his dream, I knew he was preparing for a decisive step. Maybe the the decisive step in his struggle with us all. How could I simply watch him take it, and not even try to learn what it was about? So yes: I drew near, and watched him pacing through your club, pretending to be no one in particular at first, but shedding the pretense little by little as his impatience grew. And when his back was turned I summoned all my courage, and jumped." decisive step in his struggle with us all. How could I simply watch him take it, and not even try to learn what it was about? So yes: I drew near, and watched him pacing through your club, pretending to be no one in particular at first, but shedding the pretense little by little as his impatience grew. And when his back was turned I summoned all my courage, and jumped."

The innkeeper turned to face him again. "You are fortunate that you became an yddek yddek. I saw the sorcerer turn in surprise the moment you appeared. He sensed your intrusion into his dream, and raced from door to door, to see if it was Macadra who had come. His glance fell on you, but he has seen many yddeks yddeks in his time and thought nothing of it. But had you taken this form-" in his time and thought nothing of it. But had you taken this form-"

"He would surely have known me," said Felthrup, raising his mangled forepaw and twitching his stumpy tail.

"You were fortunate in another way, too," said Orfuin. "Yddeks have very sharp ears. I a.s.sume you heard what they said on this terrace?" have very sharp ears. I a.s.sume you heard what they said on this terrace?"

"Much of it, Mr. Orfuin," said Felthrup, "and all that I heard was terrible. Arunis seeks the complete elimination of human beings from the world! And that woman Macadra seems to share his wish, although she denies it-and something he whispered, something I did not not hear, came to her as a brutal shock. Yet I still have no idea who she is. Can you tell me?" hear, came to her as a brutal shock. Yet I still have no idea who she is. Can you tell me?"

Orfuin took a rag from his pocket and walked to one of the windows looking out onto the terrace. He breathed on a small square pane and rubbed it clean.

"Macadra Hyndrascorm," he said with distaste, "is a very old sorceress. Like Arunis, a cheater of death. All mages tend to be long-lived, but some are satisfied with nothing less than immortality. None truly attain it. Some, like Macadra and her servants in the Raven Society, deploy all their magical skills in its pursuit. They may indeed live a very long time-but not without becoming sick and bleached and repellent to natural beings. Others, like your master Ramachni, are granted a kind of extended lease: the powers outside of time stretch their lives into hundreds or even thousands of years, but only in pursuit of a very great deed."

Felthrup jerked upright with a squeak, almost upsetting the little table. "Do you mean that once Ramachni completes his allotted task he will die?" he cried.

"Death is the standard conclusion, yes," said Orfuin. "But Felthrup, you must hasten to tell me what you came here for. I have a roast in the oven. Besides, my dear fellow, you might wake at any time."

"That is precisely why I have come!" said Felthrup. "Master Orfuin, my Polylex Polylex tells me that the wall between two dreamers is not the only sort of wall. There is also, of course, the wall between dream and waking. But by one of the most ancient of laws, most of what we learn, and all that we collect or are given, must be left on the far side of the gate when we return to waking life." tells me that the wall between two dreamers is not the only sort of wall. There is also, of course, the wall between dream and waking. But by one of the most ancient of laws, most of what we learn, and all that we collect or are given, must be left on the far side of the gate when we return to waking life."

Orfuin chuckled again. Then, with an air of scholarly formality, he recited: Never night's mysteries are exposed To the weak mortal eye unclosed.

So wills its King, that hath forbid The uplifting of the fringed lid.

"Or something to that effect. Have you read Poe, Mr. Felthrup? A dlomic writer of some interest; there's a book of his in the club.6 Yes, it is a balm to the soul, to travel and converse and gain wisdom in the land of dreams. But only mages can carry that wisdom out into the daylight. The rest of us must leave everything but a few stray memories on the far side of the wall." Yes, it is a balm to the soul, to travel and converse and gain wisdom in the land of dreams. But only mages can carry that wisdom out into the daylight. The rest of us must leave everything but a few stray memories on the far side of the wall."

"But Master Orfuin, I am denied even those!" cried Felthrup, hopping in place. "If I saw Arunis' face looming over me, or held on to some brief s.n.a.t.c.hes of his words, then perhaps I could fight him. But he has placed a forgetting-charm upon me. Ramachni told Pazel Pathkendle of this charm, and Pazel told me. But Ramachni cannot dispel it, he said, until he returns in the flesh.

"And that will not do. Here as a dreamer I know all that has happened to me, in waking life and in dreams. But my waking self knows nothing nothing of those dreams, and so I cannot warn my friends. I cannot tell them what I overheard, here on your terrace. That this Macadra and her Ravens are sending a replacement crew-isn't that how she put it?-to seize the of those dreams, and so I cannot warn my friends. I cannot tell them what I overheard, here on your terrace. That this Macadra and her Ravens are sending a replacement crew-isn't that how she put it?-to seize the Chathrand Chathrand. That all the wars, feuds and battles of the North are watched with pleasure, and even encouraged, by forces in the South bent on conquest. I know the most terrible secrets in Alifros! But what good is this knowledge if it vanishes each night at the end of my dream?"

"And you imagine that this old tavern-keeper can help you break what you yourself have just referred to as one of 'the most ancient of laws'?" Orfuin sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Finish your tea, Felthrup. Come inside and eat gingerbread, listen to the music, be my guest. No matter how many years we're allotted, we should never squander life in pursuit of the impossible."

"Forgive me, sir, but I cannot accept your answer."

Orfuin's eyes grew wide. Felthrup, however, was possessed of a sudden absolute conviction. "I must must take the warning back with me, somehow. I cannot possibly sit down and enjoy your hospitality if that means pretending I don't know the fate Arunis has in mind for half the people of Alifros. If you will not help me, I must thank you for the tea and the delightful conversation, and go in search of other allies." take the warning back with me, somehow. I cannot possibly sit down and enjoy your hospitality if that means pretending I don't know the fate Arunis has in mind for half the people of Alifros. If you will not help me, I must thank you for the tea and the delightful conversation, and go in search of other allies."

"In your dreams?"

"Where else, sir? Perhaps one of the ghosts aboard Chathrand Chathrand will help me, since you find yourself unable to do so." will help me, since you find yourself unable to do so."

"There is something you must understand," said Orfuin. "I am no one's ally, though I try to be everyone's friend. This club survives only because it has, since time unfathomable, stood outside the feuds and factions that plague so many worlds. No one is barred who comes here peaceably. Whether the words they exchange are words of peace or barbarism I rarely know. Wars have been plotted here, no doubt-but how many more have been averted, because leaders of vision and power had a place to sit down together, and talk at their ease? It is my faith that the universe is better off for having a place where no one fears to talk. Arunis was right, Felthrup: when I closed the club and threw them out into the River, I was doing something I had never done before, and will not hasten to do again. I was breaking the promise of this house."

"Because you heard them plotting the murder of millions of human beings!" said Felthrup. "What else could you do at such a pa.s.s?"

"Oh, many things," said Orfuin, rising again from his chair. "I could sell this club, and purchase a home in the Sunken Kingdom, or an apartment in orbit around Cbalu, or an entire island in your world of Alifros, complete with port and palace and villages and farms. I could break my house rule again, and then again, and soon be one more partisan in the endless wars beggaring the universe. Or I could contemplate my tea, and pretend not to have heard anything my guests were discussing."

Felthrup rubbed his face with his paws. "I will wake soon; I can feel it. I will forget all of this, and have no way of helping my friends. I should not have come."

Orfuin stepped close to the table and put his hands under Felthrup's chin, lifting it gently. "You may sleep a little longer, I think."

And suddenly Felthrup sensed that it was true: the flickering, stirring feeling, the teasing scent of Admiral Isiq's cigars still clinging to his uniforms, had quite faded away.

"Most visitors to a tavern," said Orfuin, "don't come to speak to the barman."

Felthrup glanced quickly at the inviting doorway. You cannot help me You cannot help me, he thought suddenly, but you spelled it out, didn't you? What your guests speak of is none of your concern but you spelled it out, didn't you? What your guests speak of is none of your concern.

"Do you mean, I might yet find-?"

Orfuin released his chin. "Go inside, Felthrup. You're a talking rat; someone's certain to buy you a drink."

6. Orfuin here slightly amends the original, though not perhaps for the worse. He is also mistaken about the artist's race. Falargrin (in The Universal Macabre The Universal Macabre) presents conclusive evidence that Mr. Poe was a transplanted selk. -EDITOR.

Confessions

24 Ilbrin 941

"How did it happen, Ludunte?"

The young ixchel man stood with his back to the bulkhead, sweating. "My lord Taliktrum," he said, "I swear to you I don't know."

"Three of our prisoners walk free," Taliktrum continued, pacing back and forth in the lamplight, his Dawn Soldiers lounging behind him, predators at rest. "Two are allies of my treacherous aunt. The third-tell me, Ludunte, who is the third?"

"C-captain Rose, my lord," stammered Ludunte.

"Captain Rose," echoed Taliktrum furiously. "The s.a.d.i.s.t who kept an ixchel locked in his desk for years. In a birdcage. The only man aboard to oversee an actual extermination-did you know he once killed an entire clan of our people, aboard an Auxlei grain ship? We just gave him his freedom on a satin pillow, Ludunte. And the blane blane antidote was in your keeping." antidote was in your keeping."

From a far corner, Ensyl looked on with unease. It was not going well for Ludunte. Taliktrum wanted someone to fall on his sword, to accept the blame for the disaster quickly and fully, sparing the Visionary Leader (yet another ridiculous t.i.tle) any further embarra.s.sment. But Ludunte was not playing along. Taliktrum, never one to endure much contradiction, was furious.

They were in the ixchel stronghold on the mercy deck: a series of crates boxed in particularly deep by other cargo, all but unreachable by the crew that had stowed them. Of course there had always been the danger that the humans would abruptly want something from the crates: ixchel clans lived in perpetual readiness to evacuate their homes. But Taliktrum's decision to seize hostages had changed all that. No humans walked the lower half of the ship unescorted. They were, in a certain respect, safer than most members of the clan had ever been in their lifetime. But that safety had just been shaken to the core.

"You're Treasure Keeper to the clan," said Taliktrum, glowering at Ludunte. "You had a key to the strongbox, and changed its location each month, for the sake of security."

"I do not choose the locations, my lord."

"I choose them," Taliktrum snapped. "And you went alone to collect the pills when we decided on this choose them," Taliktrum snapped. "And you went alone to collect the pills when we decided on this furlough furlough, this hour's charity. How could you possibly confuse the temporary antidote with the permanent? It's inexcusable."

Atop the hunting cabinet that had become his solitary refuge, Lord Talag nodded in agreement. The cabinet was one of some twenty furnishings from the Isiq mansion back in Etherhorde that had pa.s.sed, in effect, to the ixchel: old Admiral Isiq had never come for his belongings-some whispered that he'd been quietly killed after the fiasco of Thasha's wedding-and Thasha herself had forgotten about the crates, or else never realized that any of her family's goods remained in storage. Or perhaps Or perhaps, thought Ensyl, she knows perfectly well, but wants no reminders of the father she lost in Simja she knows perfectly well, but wants no reminders of the father she lost in Simja.

"You'd be wiser to come clean, Ludunte," said Taliktrum.

"But my good lord! I've done nothing wrong!"

"You cannot keep secrets from me," said Taliktrum, raising his voice suddenly. "I have been given a fate. I see further, deeper than you. I see our final triumph as a people-and every selfish, stupid act that impedes that triumph."

"Then you know I speak the truth," said Ludunte.

"I know all the truth you speak, and all the falsehood." Suddenly Taliktrum whirled and seized Ludunte by the jaw. "I must make you see it as well," he purred. "I must hear it from your lips, know that your mind has accepted the truth, if you are to go on serving me-serving the clan, the clan of course, through me, its rightful leader."

Ludunte made a grave error, then. His head could not move, but at the words rightful leader rightful leader his eyes flickered briefly to Lord Talag on his sullen perch. The look did not escape Taliktrum. His mouth twisted with rage. "I will drown you," he said. "I will call on the clan to sanction your punishment, and they will do so." his eyes flickered briefly to Lord Talag on his sullen perch. The look did not escape Taliktrum. His mouth twisted with rage. "I will drown you," he said. "I will call on the clan to sanction your punishment, and they will do so."

Ludunte closed his eyes, trembling. But he said what honor demanded, and with an air of certainty at that. "If the clan requires my death, I give it gladly. My life is in its keeping."

"No less than our own," came ritual response from every mouth. Ensyl spoke too, though the Dawn Soldiers shot her hateful looks. To those fanatics she was as much a traitor as her former mistress. Diadrelu had trusted the giants, and taken one as a lover. Ensyl's sin was loving Diadrelu-adoring her, believing in her to the point of rebellion. She had defied Taliktrum, taken Dri's body from him, delivered it to Hercol. Yes, she was a hypocrite to speak those words. She had broken the clan-bond in favor of her mistress. But Ludunte had also sworn service to Dri for the entire length of his training, and yet he had led her into the trap in which she died. Wasn't that the greater crime? Not by ixchel law, of course. Yet somewhere, surely, there was a law of the heart?

"There are three possibilities," said Taliktrum. "One, you confused the pills, mistaking the permanent antidote for the temporary."

"Never," said Ludunte.

"Two, you deliberately brought the wrong pills to the forecastle house, because you wished, for some reason, for the giants to be free."

"My lord-nonsense!"

"Three, you told someone of the location of the pills, and they-or someone they told in turn-tampered with the vials themselves."

"I told no one!" cried Ludunte, with rising desperation. "Lord Taliktrum, why don't you trust me? Have I not been your faithful servant in all things?"

Taliktrum looked at him piercingly. "Leave us," he said. "I will speak with my private council, of your faith and other matters."

He turned, dismissing Ludunte with an imperious toss of his hand. Ludunte's eyes swept the room in great distress, settling at last on Ensyl. She returned him all the sympathy she could manage, which was next to none. Stiffly, Ludunte walked to the door. Taliktrum's Dawn Soldiers hissed and spat at him as he departed.

Taliktrum's gaze fell on Ensyl. "You" was all he said.

She rose and followed him past the file of soldiers. They were silenced by the nearness of Taliktrum, but their eyes told her what they would do if given the chance. Some studied her body, others fingered their spears. He's destroying them, destroying their minds He's destroying them, destroying their minds, Ensyl thought. They're cut off from every tradition of the clan save obedience and bloodshed They're cut off from every tradition of the clan save obedience and bloodshed. Dri had always warned her that courage without reason was worse than no courage at all. Skies above, he's a greater threat to us than Rose Skies above, he's a greater threat to us than Rose.

They entered what Taliktrum called his "meditation chamber," where a single lamp burned upon a table fashioned from the lid of a pickle barrel. Myett was there, of course, watching Ensyl like a nervous cat. So was Saturyk: tight-mouthed, quick-fingered, Taliktrum's all-purpose spy. More startling was the presence of the Pachet Ghali, Myett's stern, silver-haired grandfather. The t.i.tle Pachet Pachet was given to few: it was the highest state of learning to which an ixchel could aspire. Ghali was a master musician: so great a master that the old, lost lore of ixchel-magic was said to live on in the song of his flute. Diadrelu had seen the proof. The man's playing had called swallows from their nests on a cliff near Bramian, and Taliktrum, wearing one of the clan's two priceless swallow-suits, had been able to command them like a small winged army. was given to few: it was the highest state of learning to which an ixchel could aspire. Ghali was a master musician: so great a master that the old, lost lore of ixchel-magic was said to live on in the song of his flute. Diadrelu had seen the proof. The man's playing had called swallows from their nests on a cliff near Bramian, and Taliktrum, wearing one of the clan's two priceless swallow-suits, had been able to command them like a small winged army.

"Close the door behind you, girl."

Ensyl obeyed, masking her feelings with effort. I'm the same age as you I'm the same age as you.

"A look pa.s.sed between you and Ludunte just now, did it not?" began Taliktrum, pouring himself a goblet of wine.

"He looked at me," said Ensyl, "and I looked back."

"You will address our leader by his t.i.tle," growled Saturyk.

"Which one?" said Ensyl.

"Ludunte was Dri's other sophister, sophister," cut in Taliktrum. "The two of you were closest to her of all the clan. Do you remain close now, you and he?"

"We never were especially close, Lord Taliktrum."