Even before he’d finished speaking the gossamer was losing its power to capture his likeness, the features softening, the form sinking in upon itself, until, by the time the last of his message had been uttered, there was little left for it to do but flutter to the ground.
The mystif went down on its haunches and ran its fingers through the inert threads. “Scopique,” it murmured.
“What’s the cradle he talked about?”
“The Cradle of Chzercemit. It’s an inland sea, two or three days’ journey from here.”
“You’ve been there?”
“No. It’s a place of exile. There’s an island in the Cradle which was used as a prison. Mostly for criminals who’d committed atrocities but were too dangerous to execute.”
“I don’t follow that.”
“Ask me another time. The point is, it sounds like it’s been turned into an asylum.” Pie stood up. “Poor Scopique. He always had a terror of insanity—”
“I know the feeling,” Gentle remarked.
“—and now they’ve put him in a madhouse.”
“So we must get him out,” Gentle said very simply.
He couldn’t see Pie’s expression, but he saw the mystifs hands go up to its face and heard a sob from behind its palms.
“Hey,” Gentle said softly, embracing Pie. “We’ll find him. I know I shouldn’t have come spying like that, but I thought maybe something had happened to you.”
“At least you’ve heard him for yourself. You know it’s not a lie.”
“Why would I think that?”
“Because you don’t trust me,” Pie said.
“I thought we’d agreed,” Gentle said. “We’ve got each other and that’s our best hope of staying alive and sane. Didn’t we agree to that?”
“Yes.”
“So let’s hold to it.”
“It may not be so easy. If Scopique’s suspicions are correct, either one of us could be working for the enemy and not know it.”
“By enemy you mean the Autarch?”
“He’s one, certainly. But I think he’s just a sign of some greater corruption. The Imajica’s sick, Gentle, from end to end. Coming here and seeing the way L’Himby’s changed makes me want to despair.”
“You know, you should have forced me to sit down and talk with Tick Raw. He might have given us a few clues.”
“It’s not my place to force you to do anything. Besides, I’m not sure he’d have been any wiser than Scopique.”
“Maybe he’ll know more by the time we speak with him.”
“Let’s hope so.”
“And this time I won’t take umbrage and waltz off like an idiot.”
“If we get to the island, there’ll be nowhere to waltz to,”
“True enough. So now we need a means of transport.”
“Something anonymous.”
“Something fast.”
“Something easy to steal.”
“Do you know how to get to the Cradle?” Gentle asked.
“No, but I can inquire around while you steal the car.”
“Good enough. Oh, and Pie? Buy some booze and cigarettes while you’re at it, will you?”
“You’ll make a decadent of me yet.”
“My mistake. I thought it was the other way round.”
They left L’Himby well before dawn, in a car that Gentle chose for its color (gray) and its total lack of distinction. It served them well. For two days they traveled without incident, on roads that were less trafficked the farther from the temple city and its spreading suburbs they went. There was some military presence beyond the city perimeters, but it was discreet, and no attempt was made to stop them. Only once did they glimpse a contingent at work in a distant field, vehicles maneuvering heavy artillery into position behind barricades, pointing back towards L’Himby, the work just public enough to let the citizens know whose clemency their lives were conditional upon.
By the middle of the third day, however, the road they were traveling was almost entirely deserted, and the flat-lands in which L’Himby was set had given way to rolling hills. Along with this change of landscape came a change of weather. The skies clouded; and with no wind to press them on, the clouds thickened. A landscape that might have been enlivened by sun and shadow became drear, almost dank. Signs of habitation dwindled. Once in a while they’d pass a homestead, long since fallen into ruin; more infrequently still they’d catch sight of a living soul, usually unkempt, always alone, as though the territory had been given over to the lost.