I stared at him a moment, wondering what that laugh of his meant. Then I answered with a cool nod.
Here he tossed back his head and gave a real laugh, startling poor Frostbite so that she struggled in his arms. Adjusting his grip and clucking soothingly to the dog, he cut his laugh short. When he had quieted her again, he looked me up and down. I felt a bit like a fine cow he was considering buying. But his smile was warm.
“I am Sun Eagle,” he said, “son of Darkwing, elder of the Crescent People. I come in advance to Redclay to tell your people of Eldest Panther Master’s victories. The Crescent People are once more united to the tribes under his rule. In a month’s time or less, the warriors of the Crescent People will come to Redclay and pledge their spears to the Panther Master forever.”
Here he stopped, and his bold face wore, if only for an instant, faint traces of bashfulness.
“To seal the vows,” he said, “I am to wed Maid Starflower.”
3
EANRIN
GOOD CHOICE.”
The voice that spoke was near, Eanrin thought. But it was difficult to tell for certain in the blackness. There were other sounds here, many voices crying out in many languages. Those were fainter, yet not necessarily far away. It was, Eanrin thought, as though the voices themselves were so small that they almost could not be heard. But his ears were quick, especially now when his sight was, for the present, smothered.
He tried to think. It was difficult in all this darkness, but he forced himself to stop and put at least a handful of thoughts together. The first was the realization that he was not falling. Or at least he didn’t seem to be. He wasn’t entirely certain that one could move at all in blackness this deep.
He also realized that his voice was one of those screaming.
This embarrassed him, and he immediately closed his mouth. What a faint, pathetic sound it had been. Certainly not worthy of the Bard of Rudiobus.
“Of course, in the end, there wasn’t another choice, was there?”
Oh yes! He’d almost forgotten. Someone else was here. Someone whose voice was much bigger than the tiny voices all around. Eanrin turned about, searching, but remained as blind as ever. What was more, though he could have sworn the voice had spoken right in his ear, he could not feel the sensation of a body near to hand or hear any sound of breathing. All his cat’s senses strained for some other indication of a presence. But there was nothing. Only those tiny screams that were too small to understand.
“You must choose your own way. Let no one else direct you! Choose your own way, and it will always lead you here.”
Eanrin didn’t tremble. He was a man of Rudiobus. He was not afraid. Instead, he asked, “Why are all those people shouting?”
“They are crying out for their rights.”
Eanrin took a moment to consider this. “What are their rights?” he asked at last. He could scarcely hear himself speak. But whoever stood beside him in the dark seemed to have no difficulty.
“To choose their own paths,” it replied. “To live their lives without obligation. To be the gods of their own worlds.”
Once more Eanrin considered. Then he asked, “Why are their voices so small?”
“Because I have given them what they demanded. I have allotted them worlds in which they may reign divine. And those worlds are small.”
“How small?”
“Very small.”
Eanrin tried to lick his lips. But the darkness was so penetrating, he couldn’t be certain he had a body anymore. Still, he wasn’t afraid. After all, nothing had happened yet to cause him any real alarm. He had fallen down a chasm, yes, but the fall appeared to be over, and he appeared to be unharmed. The darkness was thick, but it wasn’t as though darkness could actually hurt anyone.
Another thought finally formed in his brain. “Am I a god?”
The voice, which now seemed to be laughing, said, “Not yet. Your world is rapidly shrinking. Soon, it will have room for no one but you. Then you will be a god. Then you will not hear these other voices. In your world, there is room for you and no one else. In your world, you will reign uncontested.”
The words rang clearly, far above all the little voices. These were shrinking into a dull hum, though the smaller they got, the more violent they sounded in their incoherency.
“Wait,” Eanrin whispered. “When I am a god, will I be . . . alone?”
“Yes.”
The word pressed down upon him, crushing. Eanrin wasn’t certain that he had lungs, but if he did, they could no longer draw breath.
“When you are a god, you can only be alone.”
He wasn’t certain he had shoulders, but if he did, they were bowed under the weight.
“And yet who would not choose to be a god?”
He wasn’t certain that he had a heart, but if he did, it no longer beat.