Sky Wolves (23 page)

‘Gentleman Jim,’ persisted the horrid bloom, ‘you have to wake up! It’s me – Pico!’

Gentleman Jim wrenched both eyes open at this. And there was Pico, standing some way beneath the tangled foliage that looked as though someone had remade
Gardeners’ World
into a horror film.

‘P–’ he said.

‘It’s all right,’ Pico told him. ‘We’ve landed and we’re safe!’

There was that word again –
safe.
Just didn’t seem to mean what he’d always taken it to mean.
Must look it up in the dictionary,
he thought.

‘-ico,’ he said.

‘That’s right,’ said Pico. ‘We’ve made it – we’ve landed in the asphodel fields!’

Gentleman Jim’s senses were finally relaying messages to his brain, but he really wished they weren’t. He was surrounded by appalling flowers that seemed to be releasing a sticky fluid on to his pelt and the stench was nauseating. With a huge effort, he lifted his head. It wobbled dangerously on his shoulders for a moment, causing the world around him to lurch and rock unpleasantly, then it steadied itself and he drew in his breath.

All around him, as far as his eyes could see (which wasn’t too far, given the unnatural gloom), the ground was carpeted by tortured and sickening flowers that emitted a greenish glow. Hovering above them, rising and falling gently, were thousands of points of light, in all the colours Gentleman Jim could name, and several that he couldn’t. They hung
poised above the asphodels, then delicately descended, as though
feeding
from them, and rose again, fluttering, this time with a greenish energy.

‘Wow,’ said Gentleman Jim, and what he meant was, ‘These must be the souls of all the men, women and children who ever lived, apart from the heroes of course, and those people who managed to be exceptionally bad. They look so beautiful, hovering above those nasty flowers, in all those different, iridescent colours – I never imagined there could be so many. But what are they doing, landing on those hideous blooms? They seem to be taking something from them, but when they rise again, they look different somehow, as though contaminated by those unnatural plants. Yes – there goes another one, lowering itself to a monstrous bud, and now it rises it has lost something of its beauty and uniqueness.’

‘Let me see,’ said Pico, jumping up and down impatiently.

Holding his breath, Gentleman Jim lowered his nose so that the tiny dog could clamber up it, and when Pico was settled on his neck, he began the difficult job of getting up. His spine seemed to have buckled, his knees were locked into position and his hips had given up. But finally, on the fourth or fifth attempt, he managed it, and both dogs gazed in amazement at the scene around them. It had an eerie, enchanting beauty. The points of light rose and fell, rose and fell, as though in a hypnotic dance. Forgetful of time and urgency, Gentleman Jim and Pico stood and stared.

‘Well,’ whispered Gentleman Jim finally.

‘Yes,’ murmured Pico.

Then they were both silent again, for it seemed a violation to speak aloud.

‘Well,’ said Gentleman Jim again, and Pico said, ‘Yes?’ more loudly this time, but neither of them said anything else. The truth was that they both felt unnerved.

After a pause that seemed to go on forever, Gentleman Jim said, ‘We’d better get going, I suppose.’

Cautiously, as though the asphodels might try to trip him up or bite him, Gentleman Jim stepped forward through the tangled plants. The points of light moved away from them as they approached, then closed behind them silently. Despite all the movement, the overall impression was one of stillness.

‘Do you suppose they can see us?’ whispered Pico.

‘I don’t know,’ said Gentleman Jim in the same, hushed tones. Then, ‘How do we know which one’s Orion?’

‘We have to call out his name, remember?’ said Pico.

‘Oh, yes,’ said Gentleman Jim. ‘Well – go on, then.’

Pico said nothing. He was resisting the urge to snap as a bluish light drifted towards him like a beautiful insect. ‘Are these really souls?’ he said.

‘That’s what the man said,’ replied Gentleman Jim, then he jumped as one brushed his flank and he felt a small current of electricity. He too was resisting the urge to snap.
Mustn’t swallow the souls,
he told himself.

‘Orion?’ said Pico hesitantly, to a greenish point of light. He felt rather foolish, addressing it, but it just drifted past. ‘Orion?’ he said again, to a yellow light this time.

‘This is hopeless,’ said Gentleman Jim, as Pico called Orion’s name a third time. ‘Have you seen how many there are?’

The asphodel fields seemed to stretch on forever, with the myriad points of light hovering above them.

‘Well – it’s what we have to do,’ responded Pico. ‘Orion?’ he said again to a red glow.

‘It’s ridiculous,’ said Gentleman Jim. ‘Do we have to ask every single one?’

‘That’s what he said,’ replied Pico, though he too was feeling rather discouraged.

The points of light seemed to be multiplying, if anything, and swirling round like multicoloured snowflakes.

‘Did he say we’d be stuck here for the rest of eternity?’ said Gentleman Jim. ‘Oh, and did he say how we get out again? No? Thought not.’

Pico felt suddenly cross. Largely because it was true that Orion hadn’t told them how they would get out. ‘We would get on better if we both called out his name,’ he said sternly.

Gentleman Jim muttered something to the effect that if anyone had told him, that morning, that he would be spending the rest of his day in the underworld, talking to points of light, he would have bitten them. Then he lifted his voice suddenly and bellowed, ‘OR-I-ON!’, scattering the points of light to left and right.

‘Good grief!’ said Pico, who had almost fallen off Gentleman Jim’s neck.

‘Well, we weren’t getting very far your way,’ said Gentleman Jim, and again he bellowed, ‘OR-I-ON!’

The points of light quivered all around them, then slowly settled again.

‘Go on, then – you try,’ said Gentleman Jim.

Pico, as you know, had a very loud voice. Louder even than Gentleman Jim’s. He didn’t like using it in this strange, quiet place – it seemed like sacrilege. But he could see the
sense in what Gentleman Jim said. So he summoned all his strength, and took a great breath, and he too bellowed the name of the mighty hunter, only it came out like this: ‘WOOF!’

‘OR-I-ON!’ bawled Gentleman Jim.

‘WOOF!’ bellowed Pico, and together they stepped through the underworld, making enough noise to wake the dead.

And finally, when they were almost hoarse, another voice spoke.

‘WHO IS IT THAT WAKES ME FROM MY PEACEFUL DREAM?’

Gentleman Jim spun round so fast that Pico almost fell from his neck. There before them a light of the palest blue-green was rapidly expanding and taking on contours.

Gentleman Jim and Pico could see the shape of a man was appearing. He was sitting on a grassy verge with his feet buried in asphodels and his chin propped up on his hand, as though he was deep in thought. He was almost, but not quite, transparent, which made him difficult to see, apart from his eyes, which still glowed with the pale blue-green light.

‘Orion!’ said Gentleman Jim, for indeed the transparent, faintly glowing figure was recognizably the same as the giant star man in the sky.

‘I know that name,’ the figure said, more quietly this time. ‘But I do not know where from.’

Gentleman Jim was speechless for a moment, but Pico said, ‘It is your name. Do you not remember it?’

‘My – name?’ the figure said, looking at them both in a
puzzled kind of way and speaking as though in a dream. ‘Who are you who claim to know my name?’

‘I am Pico,’ said Pico, ‘and this is my friend, Gentleman Jim. We have been sent to return you to your rightful place.’

The shining eyes glimmered at Pico for a moment. ‘I am here,’ he said unnecessarily. ‘I have always been here. This is where I am.’

‘But you haven’t always been here,’ said Pico earnestly. ‘Do you not remember that you were a mighty hunter in the days when the earth was young, and all the stars were more brilliant than they are today, and the morning breeze was fragrant with the scents of nature? You were the greatest hunter the world has ever known, but Gaia the angry goddess sent a scorpion to kill you – remember?’

Orion glimmered some more. His eyes gazed into the distance, as though looking for something very far away and long ago. The two dogs waited eagerly.

‘No,’ he said at last, and their ears went down. ‘I remember nothing.’

Gentleman Jim had felt quite hopeful when they first met Orion, but now his hope began to fade. He could sense a massive apathy and inertia in the figure before him.

‘You made a boast,’ he said sternly, ‘that you could kill any animal on the face of the earth. That was why Gaia sent the scorpion.’

Orion looked at him with a concerned expression and for a moment Gentleman Jim thought he had struck home, but all Orion said was, ‘What was your name again?’

‘Hopeless,’ said Gentleman Jim to Pico, then, more loudly, ‘It is time for you to leave the asphodel fields.’

Orion’s soul looked at him as though from a vast distance. ‘Hopeless,’ he said wonderingly. ‘What kind of a name is that?’

‘No,
I’m
not hopeless,’ began Gentleman Jim crossly, but Pico said, ‘If you please, sir, we have been sent by your great counterpart in the sky to release you from the asphodel fields.’

Even sitting down, Orion was an impressive size. Not as big as the constellation, of course, but still much bigger than your average man. A spark of interest gleamed in his eyes for a moment, then faded, as though he was sinking back into his dream.

‘Why?’ he said, in his faraway voice, and Gentleman Jim snorted with impatience.

‘It’s no use trying to explain,’ he said to Pico. ‘We have to get him out of here whether he wants to or not.’

He turned to Orion.

‘You have to come with us,’ he said.

Orion glimmered at him again, then he looked at Pico. ‘Why does Hopeless keep saying that?’ he said.

‘You have to leave this place and go to the Elysian fields,’ said Gentleman Jim, feeling as though he was losing track. ‘To repay your debt to animal kind.’

Orion just stared at him.

Pico tugged at Gentleman Jim’s ear. ‘This isn’t working,’ he said. ‘He can’t remember anything. We have to get him to drink from that pool to make him remember.’

‘Who are you?’ said Orion. ‘And who am I?’

‘Your name is Orion, mightiest of hunters,’ said Pico. ‘You have been too long in the place of forgetting. It is time for you to remember.’

The shadowy figure crinkled his transparent brow. ‘What for?’ he said.

‘So that you can return to your former glory,’ said the little dog, looking up at him earnestly. ‘So that you can undo the curse of the gods and help to save mankind. Don’t you want to remember?’

Orion looked at him blankly. ‘Remember what?’

‘Whatever it is you have forgotten.’

‘I don’t
think
so,’ said Orion dubiously. ‘Why should I, when I can forget?’

There didn’t seem to be an answer to that one, but Gentleman Jim tried again.

‘Look – Orion,’ he said.

‘What is that name?’ said Orion.

‘Don’t start that again,’ said Gentleman Jim. ‘Why don’t you come with us for a little walk? A change of scenery, eh? Do you good.’

‘Why?’ said Orion. ‘My place is here – where I can drink from the sacred river and feed from the wondrous nectar of these flowers. It is peaceful here,’ he said, looking around for the first time. ‘Why should I want to leave? And anyway – who are you?’

Gentleman Jim groaned, but Pico changed tack.

‘Are you often thirsty?’ he asked.

‘All the time,’ replied Orion promptly. ‘That is why I stay here, by the river.’

He gestured behind him, and the two dogs saw that there was indeed a river, so wide and slow-moving that it looked like a dark, glittering lake.

‘The River Lethe,’ murmured Pico, captivated by the noiseless flow, which was rather hypnotic.

Gentleman Jim said, ‘We know of a place where you can drink and the water is much, much nicer than here. Don’t we, Pico?’

‘Wondrously nice,’ said Pico, as Gentleman Jim nudged him. ‘It surpasses the water of this river as the light of the sun surpasses that of the moon.’

For the first time, Orion looked interested. ‘Nicer than here?’ he said, as if he didn’t believe them.

‘Much,’ said Pico firmly. ‘That’s why no one wants you to drink from it. That’s why they’ve all left you here.’

Orion looked at them doubtfully. ‘Who has left me?’ he said.

‘Everyone,’ said Gentleman Jim. ‘Did you never wonder why you were alone?’

‘No,’ said Orion, considerably surprised. ‘Should I not be?’

‘Definitely not,’ said Gentleman Jim. ‘They’ve all gone off to the party and left you here on your own. Typical, I call it.’

Now Orion just looked confused. ‘But who -’ he began.

‘Never you mind,’ said Gentleman Jim reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry your head about it. Some people get the best water, others have to make do. I can see you’re not a person who minds other folk doing better than him, and that’s good. We can’t always be first, that’s what I say. Someone has to make do with second-best…’

Orion rose to his considerable height. ‘I have no interest in
second-best
,’ he said, with sudden energy, and both dogs could see that in life he would have been fearless and arrogant. ‘Show me this water.’

Pico and Gentleman Jim exchanged glances. The plan, such as it was, was working. Their only problem was that they didn’t actually know where the pool was.
At the source of the river,
the starry Orion had said,
near where it joins the River Styx.
Well, of course, they didn’t know where that was, but they did know how to follow the river up-stream, where hopefully it would join the other river and form a pool. So they set off along the river bank, where the asphodels nodded and sighed out their reeking breath across the water, and Orion strode with them, seeming almost energized. And behind Orion streamed thousands of points of light, but what they were the two dogs didn’t know, and they didn’t ask, so intent were they on fulfilling their task.