Read Online The White Wolf's Son by Michael Moorcock - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Moorcock
Tags: Fantasy
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Voltaire, but we don’t really do much French history or philosophy yet at school.”
“Of course you don’t.” He opened his muzzle and barked several times. It took me a moment to realize that he was laughing.
“How old are you, mademoiselle?”
“I’m twelve.”
“Another six years before you go to university.”
“About that. My sister goes next year.”
He asked after my family, and I told him. I said our family name was really von Bek, and at this he barked again.
“Von Bek? It could be I know your father. Or one of your relatives at least. Is his name Manfred?”
“It’s one of his names, but they have so many names. I don’t think there’s been a Manfred first name. Not for about two hundred
years at least.”
“That could easily be, of course. I met him in about 1800.”
“Over two hundred years ago.” Was I dreaming or not? Somehow the logic seemed to be that of a dream. “What’s the year here?”
“The Off-Moo don’t have calendars as we do. But in Mirenburg, the City in the Autumn Stars, where I rule as a prince, it would
be about, I don’t know, 1820 perhaps. To tell you the truth, my dear, it could as easily be 1920. If I had any means of measuring,
I’d be better able to compute exactly what year it was in comparison. When we arrive there I’ll be able to help you more.”
“Then I suppose we’d better get off to Mirenburg. My mum and dad will be worrying. We can probably phone from there.”
“Perhaps they won’t be worrying, child.” His voice softened in reassurance. “Time has substantial variations, and only a moment
or two might have passed in Ingleton while days and weeks go by out here.”
For some reason I was reassured by him, just as I had been in my dreams.
“Or several years,” added Lord Renyard. Then, realizing he might have disappointed me, he leaned down, offering something
like a smile. “But it’s generally only a matter of moments. I was just finishing my business here. Would you like to come
with me to my home? From there it might be possible to reckon a little more specifically.”
“I don’t seem to have much choice,” I said.
“You could, of course, also stay with the Off-Moo. That gentleman over there is Scholar Ree, their spiritual counselor. He
can be very kind.”
“I think I’d better stay with you, Lord Renyard, if it’s all the same…”
“I shall be glad of the company.” The handsome fox again offered me his paw and began to lead me back to the larger group
of stonelike beings. “First we’ll make our adieux.”
With grace Lord Renyard bowed to his hosts, then led me out along a narrow trail of smooth rock. Above us the enormous cave
widened. The roof of the cavern seemed miles overhead. Instead of stars, crystals glittered and a silver river ran away into
the distance, its luminous waters lighting a landscape of stalagmites and stalactites and what seemed like forests of fronds,
all pale, shimmering and ethereal.
Reconciled to my inability to contact my parents at that moment, I felt better when Lord Renyard’s soft padded paw grasped
my hand and we left the Off-Moo city behind. As we walked, he told me a little of the people inhabiting the land he called
Mu-Ooria. They had lived here long before the surface of the earth was occupied by sentient beings, he said. Their world was
sometimes known as the Border Land or the Middle March, existing on a plane shared in common by many aspects of the multiverse.
I was familiar with the idea of alternative universes, so I grasped what he told me fairly easily, though I had never really
expected to experience what old-fashioned writers sometimes called “another dimension,” and had until now pretty much taken
the ideas as fiction. Most of the children’s stories that my brother and sister and I read were the kind whichdescribe another world parallel to ours, and I had never thought the idea strange. That said, I knew it might be
“Of course you don’t.” He opened his muzzle and barked several times. It took me a moment to realize that he was laughing.
“How old are you, mademoiselle?”
“I’m twelve.”
“Another six years before you go to university.”
“About that. My sister goes next year.”
He asked after my family, and I told him. I said our family name was really von Bek, and at this he barked again.
“Von Bek? It could be I know your father. Or one of your relatives at least. Is his name Manfred?”
“It’s one of his names, but they have so many names. I don’t think there’s been a Manfred first name. Not for about two hundred
years at least.”
“That could easily be, of course. I met him in about 1800.”
“Over two hundred years ago.” Was I dreaming or not? Somehow the logic seemed to be that of a dream. “What’s the year here?”
“The Off-Moo don’t have calendars as we do. But in Mirenburg, the City in the Autumn Stars, where I rule as a prince, it would
be about, I don’t know, 1820 perhaps. To tell you the truth, my dear, it could as easily be 1920. If I had any means of measuring,
I’d be better able to compute exactly what year it was in comparison. When we arrive there I’ll be able to help you more.”
“Then I suppose we’d better get off to Mirenburg. My mum and dad will be worrying. We can probably phone from there.”
“Perhaps they won’t be worrying, child.” His voice softened in reassurance. “Time has substantial variations, and only a moment
or two might have passed in Ingleton while days and weeks go by out here.”
For some reason I was reassured by him, just as I had been in my dreams.
“Or several years,” added Lord Renyard. Then, realizing he might have disappointed me, he leaned down, offering something
like a smile. “But it’s generally only a matter of moments. I was just finishing my business here. Would you like to come
with me to my home? From there it might be possible to reckon a little more specifically.”
“I don’t seem to have much choice,” I said.
“You could, of course, also stay with the Off-Moo. That gentleman over there is Scholar Ree, their spiritual counselor. He
can be very kind.”
“I think I’d better stay with you, Lord Renyard, if it’s all the same…”
“I shall be glad of the company.” The handsome fox again offered me his paw and began to lead me back to the larger group
of stonelike beings. “First we’ll make our adieux.”
With grace Lord Renyard bowed to his hosts, then led me out along a narrow trail of smooth rock. Above us the enormous cave
widened. The roof of the cavern seemed miles overhead. Instead of stars, crystals glittered and a silver river ran away into
the distance, its luminous waters lighting a landscape of stalagmites and stalactites and what seemed like forests of fronds,
all pale, shimmering and ethereal.
Reconciled to my inability to contact my parents at that moment, I felt better when Lord Renyard’s soft padded paw grasped
my hand and we left the Off-Moo city behind. As we walked, he told me a little of the people inhabiting the land he called
Mu-Ooria. They had lived here long before the surface of the earth was occupied by sentient beings, he said. Their world was
sometimes known as the Border Land or the Middle March, existing on a plane shared in common by many aspects of the multiverse.
I was familiar with the idea of alternative universes, so I grasped what he told me fairly easily, though I had never really
expected to experience what old-fashioned writers sometimes called “another dimension,” and had until now pretty much taken
the ideas as fiction. Most of the children’s stories that my brother and sister and I read were the kind whichdescribe another world parallel to ours, and I had never thought the idea strange. That said, I knew it might be
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