sense of disorientation that was strangely familiar, though he could not place it. Then as they emerged into a realm of eerie lights of many colors, Innocence’s memory returned to him with such force that he almost spoke of it to his captors.
But when he looked at his nearest captors in the bizarre lighting, hit by blues and reds and yellows flashing from all directions, he did not see young women. He beheld great spherical tangles of yarn comparable to his own size, taking on whatever primary color was lighting them most strongly, their ends flayed in several directions like those of many-armed sea creatures. Only Very Wise Cross Girl still appeared human.
The tentacles that touched him still felt like hands, and indeed the points of contact split into five smaller tendrils resembling fingers. It was that small detail, after everything else, that finally made Innocence yelp and close his eyes. His screech was unbecoming for either a bold man of Kantenjord’s tales or a superior man of Qiangguo’s classics.
When he opened his eyes again, all the girls were girls again, though Innocence eyed their swishing cow’s tails with fresh alarm. Only Very Wise Cross Girl lacked one. Her companions giggled at his discomfort, while she said, “Now you’ve spied the uldra-girls sideways, as we entered our world.”
“Your world? Are we beyond Earthe?” For he’d remembered the sensation that reminded him of the feeling of moments before. It had been somewhat like the transition between the Scroll of Years and the world of his parents.
“Not outside, but it’s a good guess. We’re more inside, you see. Not just under the ground but between the folds of reality’s skein. Welcome to the steading of Sølvlyss.”
By now Innocence’s eyes had adjusted enough that he could appreciate the cavern before them. He couldn’t trust his conceptions of size anymore, but it appeared to be a space miles across, with a jagged ceiling thousands of feet overhead, misty with small clouds. That he could appreciate the view at all was the work of immense outcroppings of crystal scattered upon walls and ceiling, each shining region blazing with its own primary color. Where the colors met in proximity, mixed hues appeared, and thus the cavern seemed painted by an exuberant artist obsessed with rainbows.
Under his feet was not stone but soil, covered in golden grass. The meadow filled the cavern, interrupted by hills of the shining crystal, by several shimmering streams, and by a rocky hill in the distance, rising beside the cavern’s far wall. Upon these heights stood a turreted castle whose construction seemed to be all of silver, giving an impression of gigantic cups, coins, and blades. A drawbridge shaped like a vast dagger jabbed across from a tunnel in the rock, crossing a turbulent stream.
Innocence didn’t feel drugged any longer and thus lacked that explanation for what he saw. He lurched away from the girls’ clutches, and they let him go, evidently feeling he was thoroughly trapped. Looking back, he had to agree: the tunnel behind them had disappeared.
“Very well,” he said, in what he hoped was a firm, proud voice. “You’ve got me. What do you want with me?”
There commenced more of the discomfiting giggling, but “Earl Morksol wants you,” said the tail-less girl, the only one who’d yet spoken any words.
“I suppose he’s in the castle?” Innocence managed to say. “Lead on.”
They laughed at that too. He forced a smile on his face and walked along with false merriment.
Here and there the girls waved at farmers and shepherds. A few were cow’s-tailed women, but most were different varieties of the hidden folk. The majority were slight, slender humanoids with translucent skin, through which could be viewed peculiar organs resembling many-faceted jewels, as if in murky specimen jars. This type of folk took on the dominant color of their surroundings, and it was as though living fragments of rainbow waved
But when he looked at his nearest captors in the bizarre lighting, hit by blues and reds and yellows flashing from all directions, he did not see young women. He beheld great spherical tangles of yarn comparable to his own size, taking on whatever primary color was lighting them most strongly, their ends flayed in several directions like those of many-armed sea creatures. Only Very Wise Cross Girl still appeared human.
The tentacles that touched him still felt like hands, and indeed the points of contact split into five smaller tendrils resembling fingers. It was that small detail, after everything else, that finally made Innocence yelp and close his eyes. His screech was unbecoming for either a bold man of Kantenjord’s tales or a superior man of Qiangguo’s classics.
When he opened his eyes again, all the girls were girls again, though Innocence eyed their swishing cow’s tails with fresh alarm. Only Very Wise Cross Girl lacked one. Her companions giggled at his discomfort, while she said, “Now you’ve spied the uldra-girls sideways, as we entered our world.”
“Your world? Are we beyond Earthe?” For he’d remembered the sensation that reminded him of the feeling of moments before. It had been somewhat like the transition between the Scroll of Years and the world of his parents.
“Not outside, but it’s a good guess. We’re more inside, you see. Not just under the ground but between the folds of reality’s skein. Welcome to the steading of Sølvlyss.”
By now Innocence’s eyes had adjusted enough that he could appreciate the cavern before them. He couldn’t trust his conceptions of size anymore, but it appeared to be a space miles across, with a jagged ceiling thousands of feet overhead, misty with small clouds. That he could appreciate the view at all was the work of immense outcroppings of crystal scattered upon walls and ceiling, each shining region blazing with its own primary color. Where the colors met in proximity, mixed hues appeared, and thus the cavern seemed painted by an exuberant artist obsessed with rainbows.
Under his feet was not stone but soil, covered in golden grass. The meadow filled the cavern, interrupted by hills of the shining crystal, by several shimmering streams, and by a rocky hill in the distance, rising beside the cavern’s far wall. Upon these heights stood a turreted castle whose construction seemed to be all of silver, giving an impression of gigantic cups, coins, and blades. A drawbridge shaped like a vast dagger jabbed across from a tunnel in the rock, crossing a turbulent stream.
Innocence didn’t feel drugged any longer and thus lacked that explanation for what he saw. He lurched away from the girls’ clutches, and they let him go, evidently feeling he was thoroughly trapped. Looking back, he had to agree: the tunnel behind them had disappeared.
“Very well,” he said, in what he hoped was a firm, proud voice. “You’ve got me. What do you want with me?”
There commenced more of the discomfiting giggling, but “Earl Morksol wants you,” said the tail-less girl, the only one who’d yet spoken any words.
“I suppose he’s in the castle?” Innocence managed to say. “Lead on.”
They laughed at that too. He forced a smile on his face and walked along with false merriment.
Here and there the girls waved at farmers and shepherds. A few were cow’s-tailed women, but most were different varieties of the hidden folk. The majority were slight, slender humanoids with translucent skin, through which could be viewed peculiar organs resembling many-faceted jewels, as if in murky specimen jars. This type of folk took on the dominant color of their surroundings, and it was as though living fragments of rainbow waved
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