Across the caldera from where they stood a great slot opened in the rocky wall and from it came the great voice of Bofusdiaga, making the caldera shudder as it cried, “Now!”
Madame straggled toward the steep path, with the two Hags at her heels, like naughty children, plodding toward punishment.
The Questioner approached them. “Are you ready?” she asked.
“You’re going down there with us?” asked Onsofruct angrily. “Can’t you rely on our word? We have said we will do it. We will.”
“Put it down to curiosity,” Questioner said. “It is one of my tasks to gather information, and how this will be accomplished should be very informative.”
They plodded slowly down the path to the point where it disappeared under the emerald surface, then simply stood, unmoving, staring into the depths.
“I’m frightened,” said D’Jevier apologetically. “I’m scared silly.”
“Don’t stand here and exacerbate your fear,” suggested Questioner. “Just take a deep breath and dive.”
“No,” said Mouche.
They turned. Mouche was close behind them, with Ornery, Ellin and Bao, and the Timmy with emerald hair.
“What do you mean, no?” asked Questioner, annoyed.
Mouche reached out to touch her shoulder, then moved to do the same to Madame. “I mean these women are unfitted for this task. Madame here would do it out of duty, but as she herself has taught us, duty is never enough. The Hags do it out of some other emotion. Whatever it is, it is inappropriate. You are all too much what you are. Too set into your identities. Timmy tells us you cannot do what is needed.”
“And you can?”
He grinned at her. “Remember your lectures, Madame. You told us we had only to set our minds on our Hagions. So, I serve the Hagion by serving the Quaggima, by serving the creatures of this world. You told us we are all caught up in serving this through serving that. Nothing, you said, is ever quite clear or direct in this world, and love is the most unclear and indirect of all.”
“And does love come into it?” whispered Madame.
“Flowing Green says it must, though she uses other words for it. Otherwise, our design will be faulty, our execution weak, our concepts flawed. To use your words again, Madame.”
They did not know what to say, Questioner least of all, and Mouche gave them no time to come up with something apposite. He leapt past them, the others following, like creatures riding a wave of inevitability. In a moment they were gone, vanished, diving quickly, disappearing in the depths.
For one moment, nothing at all seemed to happen. The pond sparkled innocently in the sun, throwing bits of broken sunlight into their faces. Full of questions and expostulations, Calvy and Simon scrambled down from the ledge to join the others; the Corojum appeared out of nowhere; and from somewhere up the slope, Timmys began to sing a hymn to light.
The world shook again, and again, a stronger beat than before. Tunnelers emerged from various caves and began digging at one side of the Fauxi-dizalonz.
Questioner asked, “What are they doing?”
“Doing what must be done,” said the Corojum. “And when that happens, you need to be away from here.”
“Away?” asked Calvy. “Where?”
“Away from this place. High up, away from the falling rocks. Up on the road, maybe. All of you.”
“I don’t want to leave him,” cried Simon. “Mouche, I mean. He’s in … in there somewhere.”
“Mouchidi isn’t in there. You couldn’t help him if he were, and you are in danger,” said the Corojum. “Bofusdiaga says you are to go.”
Calvy said, “I want to watch what happens in the other chasm.”
“Have you no shame?” Onsofruct challenged him. “Here are persons making great sacrifice for our sakes, and all you think of is lechery!”
“Oh, it is more than lechery, Revered Hag,” said Calvy, irrepress-ibly. “The road starts up there on the ledge, where Questioner’s people are waiting. From up there, we can see down into the other side.” He turned to the Corojum. “Can we wait up there?”
Corojum glared at him wordlessly. “Mankinds can be trivial. I have said so to Bofusdiaga, many times.”