World's End by Will Elliott Page A

nor moved with such grace as this. The furious look all of them knew from books and artworks that filled Aligned country was not only absent, the familiar glare seemed quite impossible on this being’s face.
    Where the drops he gaily flung fell, more of the half-hidden garden sprang into being. The trickling brook at last appeared, spilling thin threads into a small pool which Loup wanted more than anything else to dive into, whatever may result from it.
    Vous hadn’t seemed aware of them until he twirled quite close, his glance sweeping like a light over them all. A soft rustle of echoing laughter played about them, perfectly in place with the gentle birdsong. With a playful sweep of his arm, he invited them to join him, to take up some water from the little fountain, fling it where they would. Loup rushed forwards, but Faul’s fist closed around his arm and yanked him back. It was like being dragged from pleasant sleep. Her other hand, Loup saw, had done the same with Lut.
    Vous saw this too, and laughed, joyous bells pealing. His dance grew faster, faster, a few more drops flung here or there, while he himself flashed in and out of visibility. Then with no warning the birdsong ceased, Vous disappeared altogether and did not return. The partly revealed garden remained, with streaks of normalcy left through it: streaks of brittle scrub, rocks and weeds, splashed over a beautiful painting only partly completed. The stream’s trickle was the only sound in the sudden quiet.
    Loup, Lut and Faul looked at each other. The air whooshed behind them, something heavy landed, and all three turned,startled, to find Case the drake gazing serenely at what Vous had left here. ‘HE’S GONE!’ said Faul. Then she began striding purposefully into the woods.
    â€˜If he’s gone, what’s the rush?’ Loup called after her. ‘Where you headed?’
    â€˜THE CASTLE,’ she replied. ‘HE’S GONE FROM THE CASTLE, THAT’S WHAT I MEANT. THE CASTLE IS SITTING THERE, LOUP, RIPE NOW FOR THE TAKING. IT’S A MATTER OF TIME TILL SOME FOOL MAYOR LEARNS OF IT, CLAIMS IT, THEN WE’VE A NEW WAR-LOVING LORD TO CONTEND WITH. NOT WHILE I’VE GOT STRENGTH IN ME TO WRING A NECK OR TWO. IF THAT FOOL ARCH MAGE IS ABOUT, HIS IS FIRST FOR WRINGING, AND WITH ALL HE’S DONE TO DESERVE FAR WORSE, CALL HIM LUCKY IF I SHOULD FIND HIM. HE’S GONE AND MADE HIS GOD, LOUP! I NEVER THOUGHT HE’D DO IT. HOW LONG DO YOU THINK TILL HE BEGINS HIS NEXT? AND THE NEXT WILL BE HIMSELF, IF HE’S NOT STOPPED.’
    Lut crouched by the pool of water. Gold light radiated around it. He stuck a finger in just as Faul turned to tell him not to. ‘Warm,’ he called. He cupped a palmful of it to his lips, sipped it. ‘Only water,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Tastes clean. Real clean.’
    â€˜BE WARY!’ Faul cried.
    Loup pondered that, but he was suddenly tired of being wary. How many more years of life did he really need? He dived head-first into the golden pool. ‘Water’s warm,’ he called when his head emerged, gums bared in a wide grin. ‘Ease up, Faul. I’ll be out soon, then I’ll come along with you. Back to the castle, fine. But what’s the point in anything, if you can’t stop and admire something pretty, now and then?’ He splashed water at old Case, who’d lowered himself by the stream to cautiously lap at it with his tongue.
    â€˜OH, GO ON THEN,’ Faul boomed at Lut, who looked at her plaintively. ‘TEN MINUTES.’
    He smiled through his beard, ran to the pool and jumped in.

8
THE HAIYENS
    Siel dreamed. It was a sleep sliding her gently and patiently into death. The deep dreaming part of her which knew of her coming death went along gladly with the slide’s easy, gentle momentum. It put up no fight, for now she did not have to deal with the pain of the wounds Shadow had inflicted when he’d bounced her off the