The Beyond by Jeffrey Ford Page A

mask-maker who lives on the outskirts of town, I heard the sound of a human voice. There were no particular words I could discern, but I distinctly heard it, someone trying too hard to whisper. My initial reaction was anger. The last thing I needed in my present exhaustion was to be playing hide-and-seek with a troop of idiot treasure hunters. I saw it all in an instant—greedy, gun-toting fools eager to make off with Below’s broken-down wonders. It would be easier to kill them than to scare them, but my all-too-human nature would not allow me that option.
    Instead of leaping to action and crawling on all fours through the rubble in order to sneak up on them, the aftereffects of the beauty insisted that I sit still and wait for them to pass below my perch. While I waited, I could hear their voices grow more distinct. I sniffed at the air, and it brought me news of one female and either two or three males. I was pleased it wasn’t the invading army I keep expecting. In my dotage I have become, in some ways, as paranoid as my father was. Minutes crawled by, and with each my anger grew until my tail was dancing and I half-considered the consequences of merely damaging one of them.
    Then they appeared from around the corner of the blasted Ministry of War and began crossing the intact plaza, which lay fifty yards beneath me. My mind seized, my anger instantly deflated. There were three of them—children. My first thought was to sit stone still as not to frighten them. My second thought was , “What irresponsible parent allows his children to go exploring among dangerous ruins where it is a known fact that a demon resides?”
    They were neither very young nor very old, if that tells you anything of their age. The tallest was a boy with long brown hair, wearing a red shirt. He carried a sharpened stick in his hands with the same tenacity with which I had pictured Cley holding his rifle. I could tell by the way his gaze constantly roamed and he moved along in a partial crouch that he was scared. In fact I could smell his fear and that of the other, smaller boy with the peaked cap. The girl appeared second oldest to the boy with the stick, and she moved without care, leading the others onward. Her hair was long and blond, and she was thin, her arms gracefully swinging at her sides. The instant I saw her, I knew it was not the first time.
    I could feel my anxiety rising. It was one thing to play rough with treasure hunters, but what does one do with children? I didn’t realize until that moment how much more I would have preferred the invading army. Just then the girl looked up, and I could see her catch sight of me.
    â€œThere he is,” she shouted, pointing up the mound of debris at me.
    Her companions ran, screaming, and it was the last I would see of them. She not only stood her ground, but she smiled and waved to me. I tried to pretend I was a gargoyle made of stone, but she moved closer to the bottom of my hill.
    â€œI know you,” she yelled. “Do you remember how you saved me from the river?”
    And so it was, that girl from Wenau I had pulled out of the river some years ago. “No good deed goes unpunished,” I thought. My gargoyle disguise was too flimsy even for my addled sensibilities. I lifted a hand and waved to her.
    â€œI know you,” I said.
    She began straightaway to climb the blocks of coral to where I sat, and, afraid she would fall and hurt herself, I called down to her to stay put, that I would come to her. Since she was the first person to have come to the ruins actually to visit me, I decided to do my best.
    Shaking off my fatigue, I slowly stood, sucking in my paunch and thrusting out my chest. Regal was the look I wanted, so I let my wings spread completely on either side before I flapped them and leaped into the sky. Not until I was on the descent did I see what effect my show was having, but when I saw her face she appeared mightily pleased with me.
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