Split Infinity

“You are a generous man. Stile. You do me a favor in the guise of asking for one.”

Stile shrugged. Hulk was no fool. “I’ll tell people I removed a thorn from your paw. But don’t consider it too much a favor. There is danger. You could get killed, associating with me.”

“I could get killed just running the marathon! Let’s go.”

They went. Stile led the way north as the sun cleared the forest and angled its fresh bright shafts between the branches, seeking the ground. They trotted across the opening fields toward the Blue Demesnes. As the castle came into view, a sun ray reflected from its highest turret in brilliant blue. This too. Stile thought, had to be added to the class of most beautiful things.  Then he paused. “Do you hear it. Hulk?”

Hulk listened. “Ground shaking. Getting louder.”

“I don’t know whether dragons stampede or whether they have earthquakes here. We’d better hurry.”

They hurried. As they crossed the plain around the castle they saw it; a herd of animals charging toward the same object.

“Look like wild horses,” Hulk said.

“Unicorns. What are they doing here?”

“A whole herd? Could be coming to the aid of one of their number. Wild animals can be like that.”

“Neysal” Stile cried. “If something happened to her-“

“We had better get over there and see,” Hulk said.

“I should never have let Sheen delay me!”

“I doubt you had much choice in the matter, and we both did need the rest. Is Sheen really a robot?”

 “She really is. Not that it makes much difference.”

“And Neysa really is a horse—a unicorn who turns into a woman?”

“That too. And a firefly. You will see it soon enough —if all is well.” Stile was increasingly nervous about that.

They ran, moving into the marathon pace. Neither man was in condition for it, because this was too soon after the real one they had run. But this was not to be the full course. They approached the Blue Demesnes.

But the unicorns were moving faster. Now their music sounded across the field, like a percussion-and-wind orchestra. In the lead was a great stallion whose tone was that of a fine accordion; on the flanks were lesser males whose horns were muted or silent. Evidently unicorns were not gelded, they were muted in public. In the center ran the mass of mature mares, carrying the burden of the melody. The stallion would play the theme, and the mares would reiterate it in complex harmonies. It was an impressive charge, visually and sonically.

Now, from the west appeared another group, dark and low to the ground, moving faster than the unicorns.  Stile struggled to make it out. Then he heard the baying of a canine-type, and understood. “Wolves! Probably werewolves!” he cried.

“I am ignorant of conventions here, apart from what Sheen told me of what you had told her,” Hulk puffed.  “But is such convergence of herd and pack usual?”

“Not that I know of,” Stile admitted. “It could be Kurrelgyre, returning with friends—but I don’t see why. Or it could be the pack leader Kurrelgyre went to kill; if he were victorious, and sought revenge on the person who helped Kurrelgyre—I don’t know. They certainly look grim.”

“Werewolves and unicorns are natural enemies?”

“Yes. And both are normally unfriendly to man.  Kurrelgyre and Neysa learned to get along, but—“

“Now I’m no genius and this is not my business, but it strikes me that the arrival of these two forces at this time strains coincidence. Could this relate to you? If there were some alert, some way they would be aware of the moment you re-entered this frame—“

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Stile said. “You see, I’m a natural magician in this frame—a focus of much power. But I have sworn off magic.”

“And your frame-wife would like you to break that oath,” Hulk said. “So you can preserve the Blue Demesnes from further harm. And the animals would want you to keep your oath, so you will not become anathema to them. These two types of animals may just be united—against you. You were not joking about needing a bodyguard!”

“You catch on rapidly,” Stile agreed.

The two of them picked up speed though both were tiring, in an effort to reach the castle before either herd or pack. But it soon became evident that they would not succeed. The unicorn herd would arrive first, then the wolves.

Now the wolf pack veered, orienting on Stile instead of the castle. There seemed to be ninety or a hundred of them, large dark animals with heavy fur and gleaming eyes and teeth that showed whitely with their panting.  “I hope, despite my reasoning, that they’re on our side,” Hulk said, slowing to a walk.

The wolves ringed them. One came forward, and shifted into man-form. A fresh scar ran across one cheek, and his left ear was missing. But it was Stile’s friend.

“Kurrelgyre!” Stile exclaimed. “Thou wast victorious!”

“That was not in question, once thou hadst shown me the way,” the werewolf replied. He peered at Hulk.  “This monster-man—friend or foe?”

“Friend,” Stile said quickly.

“Then I sniff tails with thee, ogre,” Kurrelgyre said, extending his hand to Hulk.