See this prophecy.”
The bird ruffled his feathers then and was still.
“I am pleased, bird, that you have had a chance to see many things,” said Sam, “and that within the fiction of your metaphor you have achieved a certain satisfaction. Unfortunately, poetic truth differs considerably from that which surrounds most of the business of life.”
“Hail, Lord of Light!” said the bird, and sprang into the air. As he rose, he was pierced through by an arrow shot from a nearby window by one who hated jackbirds.
Sam hurried on.
It is said that the phantom cat who had his life, and that of Helba a little later, was really a god or a goddess, which was quite possible.
It is said, also, that the phantom cat who killed them was not the first, or the second, to attempt this thing. Several tigers died beneath the Bright Spear, which passed into them, withdrew itself, vibrated clean of gore and returned then to the hand of its thrower. Tak of the Bright Spear fell himself, however, struck in the head by a chair thrown by Lord Ganesha, who had entered silently into the room at his back. It is said by some that the Bright Spear was later destroyed by Lord Agni, but others say that it was cast beyond Worldsend by the Lady Maya.
Vishnu was not pleased, later being quoted as having said that the City should not have been defiled with blood, and that wherever chaos finds egress, it will one day return. But he was laughed at by the younger of the gods, for he was accounted least among Trimurti, and his ideas were known to be somewhat dated, he being numbered among the First. For this reason, though, he disclaimed any part in the affair and retired into his tower for a time. Lord Varuna the Just turned away his face from the proceedings and visited the Pavilion of Silence at Worldsend, where he sat for a spell in the room named Fear.
The Masque of Blood was quite lovely, having been written by the poet Adasay, who was noted for his elegant language, being of the anti-Morganic school. It was accompanied by powerful illusions cast by the Dreamer especially for the occasion. It is said that Sam, too, had walked in illusion on that day; and that, as a part of the weird, he had walked in partial darkness, amidst awful odors, through regions of wailing and shrieking, and that he had seen once again every terror he had known in his life conjured up before him, brilliant or swart, silent or trumpeting, fresh-torn from the fabric of his memory and dripping with the emotions of their birth into his life, before it was over.
What remained was taken in procession to the pyre at Worldsend, placed there upon it, burned amidst chanting. Lord Agni had raised his goggles, stared for a time, and then the flames had arisen. Lord Vayu had lifted up his hand and a wind had come to fan the fire. When it was finished. Lord Shiva had blasted the ashes beyond the world with a twist of his trident.
These things considered, it was thorough as well as impressive, the funeral.
Long unrehearsed in Heaven, the wedding came on with all the power of tradition. Milehigh Spire glistened, blindingly, like a stalagmite of ice. The weird had been withdrawn, and the phantom cats walked the streets of the City, blinded once more, their fur sleeked as if by the wind; and should they climb a broad stairway, it was a rocky slope they mounted; the buildings were cliffs and the statues were trees. The winds that circled through Heaven captured song and scattered it across the land. A sacred fire was kindled in the Square within the City’s center Circle. Virgins, imported for the occasion, fed this fire with a clean, dry, aromatic wood, which crackled and burnt with very little smoke, save for occasional puffs of purest white. Surya, the sun, shone down with such brilliance that the day fairly vibrated with clarity. The groom, attended by a great procession of friends and retainers decked all in red, was escorted through the City to the Pavilion of Kali, where all were taken within by her servants and led into the great dining hall. There, Lord Kubera served as host, seating the scarlet train, which was three hundred in number, in chairs of black and chairs of red, alternating, around the long black-wood tables, which were inlaid with bone. There, in that hall, were they all given to drink of madhuparka, which was of honey and curds and psychedelic powders; and this they drank in the company of the blue-garbed train of the bride, which entered the hall bearing double cups. The train of the bride numbered three hundred also; and when all were seated and all had drunk of the madhuparka, Kubera did then speak for a time, jesting with them broadly and alternating his speech with words of practical wisdom and occasional references to the ancient scriptures. The legion of the groom then departed to the pavilion in the Square, and that of the bride advanced upon it from another direction. Yama and Kali entered this pavilion separately and sat on either side of a small curtain. There was much singing of ancient songs and the curtain was removed by Kubera, permitting the two to look upon one another for the first time that day. Kubera did speak then, giving Kali into the care of Yama in return for the promises of goodness, wealth and pleasure to be given unto her. Then Lord Yama clasped her hand and Kali cast an offering of grain into the fire, about which Yama led her, their garments having been knotted together by one of her retainers. After this, Kali trod upon a millstone, and the two of them took seven steps together, Kali treading upon a small pile of rice with each step. Then was a light rain summoned down from the sky for the space of several heartbeats, to sanctify the occasion with the blessing of water. The retainers and guests then combined into a single procession and moved off through the town in the direction of the dark pavilion of Yama, where great feasting and revelry was held, and where the Masque of Blood was presented.