The Eyes of the Overworld by Jack Vance Page B

and crabbed,” declared another. “Consider his petulant manner when he sieves a scoop of sand to no avail!”
    â€œIs there no information elsewhere?” Cugel demanded anxiously. “No rumor of the sea? No ancient tablet or set of glyphs?”
    The shell-creatures laughed in merriment. “You ask so earnestly that you might be Slaye himself! Such lore is unknown to us.”
    Concealing his dissatisfaction Cugel asked further questions, but the creatures were artless and unable to maintain their attention upon any single matter. As Cugel listened they discussed the flow of the ocean, the flavor of pearl, the elusive disposition of a certain sea-creature they had noted the day previously. After a few minutes Cugel once more turned the conversation to Slaye and the amulet, but again the shell-creatures were vague, almost child-like in the inconsequence of their talk. They seemed to forget Cugel, and dipping their fingers in the water, drew pallid threads from the drops. Certain conches and whelks had aroused their disapproval through impudence, and they discussed a great urn lying on the off-shore sea-bottom.
    Cugel finally tired of the conversation and rose to his feet, at which the shell-creatures once more gave him their attention. “Must you fare forth so soon? Just when we were about to inquire the reason for your presence; passers-by are few along Great Sandy Beach, and you seem a man who has journeyed far.”
    â€œThis is correct,” said Cugel, “and I must journey yet farther. Notice the sun: it starts down the western curve, and tonight I wish to house myself at Cil.”
    One of the shell-creatures lifted up its arms and displayed a fine garment it had woven from water-threads. “This garment we offer as a gift. You seem a sensitive man and so may require protection from wind and cold.” It tossed the garment to Cugel. He examined it, marveling at the suppleness of the cloth and its lucent shimmer. “I thank you indeed,” said Cugel. “This is generosity beyond my expectation.” He wrapped himself in the garment, but at once it reverted to water and Cugel was drenched. The four in the shells shouted loud in mischievous glee, and as Cugel stepped wrathfully forward, snapped their shells shut.
    Cugel kicked the shell of the creature which had tossed him the garment, bruising his foot and exacerbating his rage. He seized a heavy rock, dashed it down upon the shell, crushing it. Snatching forth the squealing creature, Cugel hurled it far up the beach, where it lay staring at him, head and small arms joined to pale entrails. In a faint voice it asked, “Why did you treat me so? For a prank you have taken my life from me, and I have no other.”
    â€œAnd thereby you will be prevented from further pranks,” declared Cugel. “Notice, you have drenched me to the skin!”
    â€œIt was merely an act of mischief; a small matter surely.” The shell-creature spoke in a fading voice. “We of the rocks know little magic, yet I am given the power to curse, and this I now pronounce: may you lose your heart’s-desire, whatever its nature; you shall be bereft before a single day is gone.”
    â€œAnother curse?” Cugel shook his head in displeasure. “Two curses already I have voided this day; am I now inflicted with another?”
    â€œThis curse you shall not void,” whispered the shell-creature. “I make it the final act of my life.”
    â€œMalice is a quality to be deplored,” said Cugel fretfully. “I doubt the efficacy of your curse; nevertheless, you would be well-advised to clear the air of its odium and so regain my good opinion.”
    But the shell-creature said no more. Presently it collapsed into a cloudy slime which was absorbed into the sand.
    Cugel set off down the beach, considering how best to avert the consequences of the shell-creature’s curse. “One must use his wits in dealing