"Fighting each other is estúpido," Tomàs agreed.
Slowly, the red flush left Clive's features. "You're correct," he said finally. "It's none of my business."
"Besides, it's not what you think," Annabelle said.
Clive touched his brother's brow and stroked the pale skin. For all his weakened state, Neville had never looked better, so far as Clive was concerned. He looked around at his companions, letting their presence sink like a balm through his troubled heart.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Truly I am."
Annabelle disengaged her arm from around Sidi's waist and leaned forward to give Clive a kiss. "Good seeing you again, ancestor."
"It's good to see you again as well ... all of you."
Annabelle reached out and scratched Finnbogg's head. "Even you. Finn."
"Annie not mad at Finnbogg anymore?"
"Annie not mad," she said with a sigh. "I couldn't give up a friend like you. I'm too glad to see you again."
Annabelle settled back in her scat. "All right. So let's get this show on the road. We've got places to go, people to meet, stories to tell, like—" she drew Neville's journal from the inner pocket for her jacket and handed it to Clive "—what this was doing waiting for us in Tawn."
"How did you get this?"
"Better yet, how did you lose it?"
As Guafe got the cart moving once more, they began to exchange their tales. It was crowded on the back of the vehicle, but with Guafe. Smythe, and Tomàs squeezed into the front, there was room for everyone.
The corridor led them on. They left behind the thunder of the Lords, still hammering on the door, and all the dangers they'd survived so far. Ahead waited the next level of the Dungeon and. when Neville woke again, finally some answers. There would be more trials, of that they were all sure, but they would at least be together to face them.
For now, that was enough.
* Selections *
From the Sketchbook
of Major Clive Folliot
The following drawings are from Major Clive Folliot's private sketchbook, which was mysteriously left on the doorstep of The London Illustrated Recorder and Dispatch, the newspaper that provided Financing for his expedition. There was no explanation accompanying the parcel, save for an enigmatic inscription in the hand of Major Folliot himself.
Our travels have led us through yet another level of the mysterious Dungeon. As our party temporarily split, I have recorded these images from memory and from Annabelle's recollections. How strange these images must appear to you, if you see them at all!
Now Annabelle's and my party have been reunited, and my brother has been found. May we escape this prison with godspeed and return to England alive!
Philip Jose farmer is a three-time Hugo Award winner and one of the most original figures in fantasy and science fiction, he is the author of numerous novels, including the acclaimed Riuerworld series, which the Los Angeles Times called "a feast for the imagination." He has also written biographical studies of such characters as Tarzan. Doc Savage, and Kilgore Trout. He lives in Peoria, Illinois with his wife, Bette.
Charles de Lint currently makes his home in Ottawa Ontario, with his wife, Mary Ann Harris, a textile artist. He is the proprietor/editor of Triskell Press, a small publishing house that specializes in fantasy chapbooks and magazines.
His writing includes novels, short stories, comic book scripts, poetry and non-fiction, as well as reviews for various magazines and newspapers. His regular columns for sf/fantasy trade journals include pieces in OtherRealms, Mystery Scene and Orson Scott Card's Short Form.
He received the first annual William L. Crawford award for Best Mew fantasy Author of 1984. In 1988, he won the Casper Award for Best Work in English for his novel. Jack the Giant-Killer. He has also served on the nebula Awards Jury.
Charles de Lint, The Valley of Thunder
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