“Somebody’s enjoying themselves,” said a woman, somewhere beyond the spill of the light that Candy had shed on Jollo.
The boy’s good humor instantly died away, not out of fear, Candy thought, but out of a peculiar reverence for the speaker.
“Bad Boy?” she said.
“Yes, Mama.”
“Will you find our guest Malingo something to eat and drink, please?”
“Of course, Mama.”
“And send the girl up to me.”
“As you wish, Mama.”
Candy wanted to point out that she was also hungry and thirsty, but this wasn’t the time to be saying it, she knew.
“All right, you heard Mama,” Jollo said to Candy. “She wants you to go to her, so all you need to do is follow the silver eye.” He pointed to a foot-wide eye, its pupil black, the lens of it silver, which hovered in between the trees.
“Should I come?” Malingo said to Candy.
“If I need you, I swear I’ll yell. Really loud.”
“Happy?” Jollo said to Malingo. “If Mama tries to eat her, she’s going to yell.”
“Your mother wouldn’t—”
“No she wouldn’t, geshrat,” Jollo replied. “It’s humor. A joke?”
“I know what a joke is,” Malingo said without much certainty. He looked for Candy, but she’d already followed the silver eye off the path into the darkness of the trees.
“Come on, geshrat. Let’s get you fed,” Jollo said. “If you hear Candy call, you can go straight to her. I won’t even try to stop you. I promise.”
LAGUNA MUNN’S ISLAND HAD seemed small when viewed from Ruthus’s boat, but now that Candy was being led up through its darkened slopes it seemed far larger than she’d expected. She’d left the cloud-light behind her, but the silver eye shed its own light as it led her through the dense thicket. She was glad of its guidance. The ground beneath her feet was becoming steeper, and the trees she was moving between—sometimes having to force a gap large enough for her to get through—became steadily more gnarled and ancient.
There was a wind blowing up here on the higher elevations. It made the antiquated trees creak, and their branches shake down a dry rain of leaves and withered fruit. Candy didn’t let anything distract her from her guide. She followed it as closely as the passage through the choked undergrowth would allow, until it led her to a place where the trees’ lowest branches had woven their twigs with the bushes below, forming a wall of knitted wood. Candy stood before it a moment, while the eye cast its light upon the interwoven twigs. A few seconds went by and then a shimmer of motion passed through the wall, and where the eye had shone its light the wall unwove itself, opening a narrow door. The trees and shrubs were still parting when the voice that had spoken to Jollo said, “Either come in or be gone, girl. But don’t just stand there.”
“Thank you,” Candy said, and stepped between the writhing branches.
She had come to the top of the island. The wind here moved in sighing circles, the freight of leaves it bore rising and falling as it was swept around her. It wasn’t just leaves in the circling gusts, however. There were animals too, creatures of every size and shape moving around her, their flanks pale as the moon sometimes, sometimes red as a setting sun, their eyes blazing green and gold, and all leaving trails of motion on the shadowy air.
She couldn’t be sure whether she was witnessing a joyous race or a life-and-death pursuit. Whichever it was, it suddenly turned in her direction, and she dropped to the ground, hugging her head with her hands as she felt the rush of life passing over her. It was loud now. Not only the rush of wind but the thunder of hooves and paws, and the screeches, roars, and howls of perhaps a thousand species, perhaps twice that.
“Do you not yet know the difference between a dreamed thing and a living one?” Laguna Munn said, her voice closer to Candy than the sound of the animals’ passage.
“Dreamed . . . ?” Candy said.
“Yes, girl,” Laguna replied. “Dreamed. Imagined. Conjured. Invented.”
Candy dared a cautious glance up. Whatever the incantatrix was saying, the hooves and the claws that were still racing over the top of Candy’s head looked real and extremely dangerous.
“It’s an illusion,” Laguna Munn said. “Stand up. Go on. If you don’t trust me, how can anything I try to do for you have a hope of working?”
Candy saw the sense in this. She raised her head a little more. The violence of the living torrent galloped over the dome that protected her thoughts. It hurt. Not just her skull, creaking beneath the assault of the hooves, but the bones of her face, and the delicate tissues it protected.
If she didn’t endure this assault she’d not find anyone else to tell her what Laguna Munn could.
She stood up.
Lordy Lou, the pain of it! Even though it was an illusion it was still strong enough to make blood trickle from her nose. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, but a fresh flow immediately followed. And still the animals thundered on, the violence of their passage buffeting her as they pressed on.
“I know you’re there, Laguna Munn,” she said. “You can’t hide forever. Come on. Show yourself.”
Still the creatures came, their passage through her as powerful as ever. The blood running from her nose was in her mouth. She tasted it, copper and salt. How much longer could her body survive this relentless onslaught? Surely the incantatrix wouldn’t let her die because she failed?
“I’m not going to die,” she told herself.
Again, she tried to force her vision through the conjuration. Again the conjuration forced its reality upon her.
You’ll never do it without me, Boa said.
“Help me, then.”
Why should I?
A wave of anger rose up in Candy. She was sick of Boa; sick of every egocentric woman with more power than compassion that she’d encountered, starting with Miss Schwartz, and finishing up with Mater Motley. She’d had enough of them—all of them.
And finally, her eyes started to prick the illusion that was battering her, giving her a glimpse of the mysterious Laguna Munn. She was what Candy’s mother, Melissa, would have called a “big-boned woman,” by which she’d meant fat.
“I . . . see . . . you,” Candy said.
“Good,” Laguna Munn replied. “Then we can proceed.”
Laguna raised her hand, and made a fist of it. The tidal flow of living things ceased instantly, leaving Candy with aching bones, a buzzing head, and a bloody nose. Laguna spoke, her voice soft.
“I didn’t expect to meet you, though I was curious, I must say. I thought the Fantomaya had your affections.”
“The Fantomaya is the reason I’m here,” Candy said.
“Ah, so somebody’s been telling you stories.”
“It’s not just a story!” Candy snapped.
The anger was still in her, bubbling up.
“Calm yourself,” Laguna Munn said. She seemed to rise from her chair and move toward Candy without taking a single step. “What did I see in your head, girl?”
“Something more than me,” Candy said. “Another person.”
Laguna’s eyes, already huge, grew larger