Midnight Wonders

3.4.1. The Light of a False Moon

"Kay," said Luc as they continued on down the way. It had been a long while, and it felt like it, but at the same time, it was hard to convince himself. He kept looking around, waiting for the sky to darken. And for the air to cool. He was getting a bit hot and had taken off his cloak, which was now draped across his lap. There was no one else around anyway. There hadn't been anyone since they'd passed the village to which Pellam and the other boy were presumably bringing the wolf.

"What?" said Kay.

"Are you still mad at me?" Luc was mildly aware of the fact that he sounded like a child constantly pestering a parent, but Kay's mood had not seemed to improve since the earlier spat, and it was starting to bother Luc quite a bit. "Sorry, I mean—are you still mad?"

"No," said Kay.

Luc thought that saying, "Then why won't you look at me?" sounded much too whiny, and he ought to refrain from things that might irritate Kay more. So he said, "You knew him, then?"

Kay looked at him. His expression was unreadable, but at least he was not frowning as he had been with Pellam and the other boy.

"The boy?" said Luc.

"Pellam?" said Kay. "Oh. Yes. He's training to be a knight."

"Are you both knights of the Yew, then?" Luc asked, remembering what the people picking peas had told him.

"The Yew?" said Kay. "No, we're from Sycamore. But I was raised in Yew first." He glanced at Luc again. "Why?"

"The people I talked to," he said, "told me that the Yew is a labyrinth. So if you're from there you probably know the way through it."

"Not anymore," Kay said. "It changes often, and I haven't been there since I was a child. But don't worry. I know someone who does know the way."

"Oh," said Luc.

Silence descended once more. He was not sure why he always felt so horrifically awkward in silence but could look at others sitting quietly alone and think they were the best of friends. It seemed in a comfortable silence, a shared sense of ease was communicated rather than words, but Luc's telepathic sense must have been broken, and the comforting signals being sent his way were lost to the air.

"What's it like outside?" Kay's voice had lost its edge, and it slid easily through the cloud of discomfort that Luc was brewing in.

"Outside Under-The-Green-Hill?" Luc said, grateful for the conversation. "It's quite...different. But it looks the same. Besides the sky. We have a sun, and we have nighttime. But you know that; you've been out at night before."

"A sun?" said Kay.

"It's like the lanterns," Luc said, pointing above them. "But there's only one. And you can't see where it comes from. The sky never ends. There's no ceiling like down here. Outside, you could fly forever and never reach the sky. You would never reach the light, either. The sun is so far away. It's only to look, not to see. And, well, I suppose there are more lanterns in the night sky, too. During the day, when it's light out, you can only see the sun. But it goes to sleep around six in the evening; you can watch it sink in the sky, and it's beautiful. All the colors: orange, red, pink, purple. The sun disappears under the horizon, and the sky darkens until it's black, and you see the moon and stars instead. That's when it's night. It was night when I first—" Luc paused. "You don't remember that."

"What?" said Kay. "When you first met me? I know it was night."

Luc looked at him. "What? I thought you forgot."

"Why would you think that?"

Luc couldn't tell if Kay was messing with him or not. His expression was the same as ever, so earnest yet at the same time unreadable. But he was looking at Luc now. Staring at him. The gaze of his green eyes was making Luc feel faint. Or perhaps it was just dehydration. He wondered if the people of Under-The-Green-Hill did not need to drink as much as they did not need to sleep. He wondered if Kay had brought water. He should have drunk something that morning. Kay's gaze was very keen and Luc couldn't think very straight.