A Messenger from Nephelokokkygia

A Witch Has Them for Dinner

Chapter 22: A Witch Has Them for Dinner

The witch was too afraid of the dark to dare go in Dorothy's room at night to take the shoes, and her dread of water was greater than her fear of the dark, so she never came near when Dorothy was bathing.

--L. Frank Baum, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

When attempting to sneak around territories of (probably not-so friendly) giants, it helps that a vimana makes no sound. The vehicle was roughly boomerang shaped. At its center was the steering wheel, and the sole window, a wide oval. The back points moved the ship forward. Picture a great pair of scissors, opening and closing. Each close provided it momentum to skip along the sky.

Inside, Grace and Goldtalon sat on seatbelt-and-handle-free benches while Bennu tried steering. The pilot's seat looked like the cockpit of an airplane, the head of a pirate ship, and the front of an automobile, all jumbled with some incredible odds and ends. A kind of planetarium took up the craft's upper quarters. Radiant, multicolored orbs representing planets and stars seemed to float, but actually rotated due to strips of magnetized iron along the walls. Fox would no doubt hate that.

"You guys comfortable?" Bennu turned his head to speak when he should have been steering away from Bonegrinder's windmill.

Grace eyed curious sundial-type devices on the walls. "Reminds me of this real tall cuckoo clock in the basement of the Ambrosius Institute. I think Will Henry built that, too. But please watch where you're going! You drive like that; you'll crash into the ground again!"

As a nine-headed ogre waved to them, Bennu lowered his head, fixing his claws back on the wheel. He ignored the mass of levers whose knobs were covered in runes. To either side were dashboards covered in blinking buttons, which he also avoided.

Some buttons had their own buttons. Goldtalon took interest in touching some shinier ones. Grace asked him to stop, and his paws immediately snapped to his lap. There was a glazed look in his eyes. Grace attributed it to the same daze she struggled with since the bird city rejected their help.

At last, Bennu set the vimana so it hovered equal with the cottage's high porch. Grace and Goldtalon hopped the distance, easily pushing through the still-ajar door. In the waking world, places have the common decency to be the same size on the inside as they appear from outside. After Dr. Bezoar's shopping cart, and O's expandible Dojo, Grace learned this should not be taken for granted in the Astral. The interior consisted of a series of hallways longer than the entire length of its outsides, stilts and all. They were open, unseparated by doors. All looked identical, but darkness had a lot to do with that.

It was not the black in Schrodinger's boxes, full of potential energy. Nor was it comparable to the dull, muggy twilight of the Silent Forest. The dark Grace and Goldtalon now navigated was sharp and cold. What is more, no matter which direction they pushed, they always came up against wind. Not once was a breeze to their backs.

Wind bore echoes, so their every breath or footfall duplicated down the passages. If something dangerous lurked beyond, it must be aware of them by now. But so should their friends. The one advantage was, after getting used to them, the echoes helped Grace find her way in the lightlessness.

"Schrodinger?" called Goldtalon. "Fox? Diana?" The griffin's whines became thunder.

"Shhhh." Like the stateliest librarians, Grace put a finger to her lips, even though Goldtalon obviously could not see the gesture. His voice died halfway through a whimper, but Grace's noise shot before and behind them.

Around the corner came a groan. Sustained, miserable.

Grace gripped the scruff of Goldtalon's neck. They kept equal pace. While unsure at first, the voice became increasingly familiar, even without complete words. "Diana," Grace tried to whisper, "are the others around?"