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Stories from the Verse
A Dozen Verses
Chapter 144: Cooper 119
Table of Contents
Previous chapter: Kondor 306
Wet, and suddenly not, he arrived in a new world. Autumn leaves in colors of purple, orange, and yellow gave the low surrounding hillsides a festive air. The scent of woodsmoke worried the native Californian. Still, as he rose and sensed for his gear back at what had been the campsite, he noted the thick brown leaves on the ground under the trees were damp. This was not the semi-desert land of California, habitable only by the grace of aqueducts and tunnels from the Colorado River.
Tramping through thick leaves and avoiding small patches of brambles, he spotted his first water outlet: a ten foot tall cracked cliff of limestone shelves which had a metal pipe poking free. Out of the pipe trickled water. He tasted it, and had to control himself to not gulp more of its cool, sweet deliciousness. This was the best water he had had since he had shared a Swiss chalet with Wilhelm Tell.
Up and down three ridges, all between two and three hundred feet tall--easy walking for him--he came to the location of his campsite. Everything was lying as it had been in that other universe. Scooping up his gear, he packed and turned around again, this time heading for the scent of wood smoke.
A mile later he came to a stretch of buckled and bent asphalt a mere four feet wide. Did that mean that the inhabitants were tiny, like Lilliputians? More careful examination revealed the road only ran for twenty feet under thick, hiding branches, and by its edges it looked as if it had been meant for two regular lanes. Trying to follow the path, which animals seemed to have followed as well, he found more chunks of road alternated with much longer stretches of animal trail.
Something bumped into his shin, and wincing he examined it. A bit of blood ran down his leg, and deciding this was as good a time as any, he laid on hands and spoke a quiet prayer. The wound went away, although the black jeans were still bloodied. Giving thanks, he examined the object in the thick grass. It was still daylight, but the canopy branches laced together overhead were thick, and down lower in the valley there were more green leaves than up high.
A metal line rose from the ground, and canted off, almost parallel, say fifteen degrees of an angle rising toward a deformed and rusted Stop sign. A significant force had bent this sign post. Some bits of fur were on the edge of the placard, and he picked up a bit of it and gave it a sniff.
Cat. Swallowing quickly, he looked about. Ten feet behind him, he saw a very healthy mountain lion. It snarled, showing all its fangs, including one broken, which he regarded as a bad sign. Injured animals took shortcuts, like eating men, and had shorter tempers. Without him thinking about it, the sword was in his hand, and lit.
“Peace, friend, no need to fight. Maybe I can even help you.”
The cat abruptly sat down on his haunches, and spoke.
“My apologies, Friend of Angels.”
Cooper stared in utter amazement, and then felt a wide grin split his brown face. With an easy effort of will, he snuffed the flame, and then slid The Sword back into its sheath.
“No need to apologize, great cat. I have no doubt intruded by accident,” he said gently.
“Well, no, the wood path is free to all, save the Servants of the Fey.”
“Hmm, would you mind if I tried to heal that tooth? I also have some dried meat.” It was dried crab jerky from the other universe.
“Please.” The mountain lion walked up to Cooper and sat down. Cooper very softly patted the mouth, and prayed, and as he did, he felt the tooth grow back, and the wound in the side of the jaw close. “You prayed to The One,” the cougar said with shining eyes before it licked Cooper with a long tongue across his face. Laughing, Cooper got out the crab jerky which the cat said tasted odd, but good.
Once he was done, Cooper began to ask questions beginning with ‘what news in the land?’ As they spoke, and Cooper asked more questions, the cat sniffed. ‘And they say we cats are curious.’
“I’m a very curious man. So you say this land was different in the past, and men ruled the Land, and few knew of the Speaking Beasts, and then the Fey came, and with the Fey came their monsters. Now the Men who are not enslaved in the concrete deserts hide?”
The cat hissed in displeasure. It seemed as if gratitude was a short lived thing among cougars.
“How do you get along with Men?”
“We don’t, mostly. They think we are monsters like the Fey’s. And to answer your last question, man, the one you did not ask but inevitably will, the Fey hate the Speaking Animals with greater fire than the Fey hate the Men.”
With that, the cougar leapt up and ran off even as Cooper tried to give voice to further questions.
There is a behind-the-writings look at the thoughts, influences, and ideas of this chapter, along with eleven other sequential chapters of this novel, in mark Joseph "young" web log entry #535: Character Plots. Given a moment, this link should take you directly to the section relevant to this chapter. It may contain spoilers of upcoming chapters.
As to the old stories that have long been here:
