“Except these trees have about a hundred different blazes,” muttered Mouche. This kind of sailing had never entered into his fantasy, among a forest of pillars on luminous water with a steady breeze blowing from behind them. Still, he knew the ropes and the knots, he could feel the sense of the simple rigging.
“Now,” said the Corojum in a pedagogical manner, “you must understand that this journey we are about to make is the journey of Quaggima.”
“Quaggima!” exclaimed the Questioner, turning from her position at the railing. “Quaggima?”
The Corojum quashed her with an imperative gesture. “Please, you must not interrupt, or we will not be in time. This is the story of Quaggima.” His voice soared in a brief phrase, trilling at the end. “That is, ‘Quaggida, stronger one sings.’ Correct? You learned song as young beings.”
“Yes,” murmured Mouche. “Ornery and I, I guess we did. Not just those words, but yes.”
“It is the Timmys’ duty to teach the songs and dances of being to all creatures. For that reason they came to your first ones and all of your people since, no matter how you treated them or killed them or prevented their dancing. Now, at the beginning of the voyage, we sing first line to remind us of the sign, then we look for that sign. Quaggida is winged mouth, or mouth that sings.” He leaned on the railing of the ship and pointed to one of the row of pillars they were approaching. After a moment’s concentration, they could see that it bore a winged and fanged circle.
“See long teeth in circle, for Quaggida has teeth of fire. See bright bar to left? That means we must come so close as this, to see the sign, then turn to just pass it on the left! Quickly, be ready to change sails.”
Obligingly, Mouche and Ornery were ready, and at Corojum’s word, they set the sails to take them just past the left side of the pillar. Mouche, thinking it out, decided that changing sails at a certain distance from the pillar was important, as it set the direction for the next tack, though it was imprecise at best. The Timmys looked up but made no effort to help them. Evidently this voyage was to be tutorial in nature.
“As you learn the way, do not forget the pass sign,” murmured the Corojum. “You must come this close to pillar, read sign, then pass the pillar on the correct side.”
“So the pass sign is on the left, and we pass it on the left,” muttered Ornery, concentrating on the approaching pillar.
They passed it sedately, not with any great speed. The wind was enough to move them, but not enough to speed them through the glowing water.
“Next line,” demanded the Corojum.
“Somewhere among the dimmer galaxies,” said the Questioner, promptly.
“Sign is spiral of galaxy,” said the Corojum, a frown in his voice. “But song must be sung, not spoken.”
“Sorry,” said Questioner. “Just as an item of interest, how do you know galaxies are spiral?”
“Not all are,” answered the Corojum, “but Kaorugi learned that many are. Please, interruptions are very bad idea.”
“Sorry,” she said again, lifting her eyebrows and grinning covertly at herself.
Mouche and Ornery finally saw a cluster of dim dots which, when they came closer yet, became the image of a central disc and several spiraling arms. The pass bar was again to the left.
“Change sail now,” demanded the Corojum, then, as they were passing the pillar on the left, it said imperatively, “Next line.”
This time, as though to forestall the Questioner, the Timmys burst into impassioned song.
“ … Doree a Quaggima t’im umdoror/Au, Corojumi, tim d’dom z’na t’tapor—” The song cut off, as though with a knife.
“Which is to say,” asserted the Corojum, “ … Luring the weaker-one that strong-one will seize!/Oh, Corojumi, weaker-one comes without awareness … ‘ Sign is same as Quaggida, but without teeth. Winged circle, for mouth that sings, and beneath, egg shape to show this is weaker or smaller one.”
They seemed to go a very long way before the next pillar came into sight before them, a little to their right.