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with the travelers, the massed animals held their ground, and watched, and listened.
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The frothing, fermenting water where the starfish had sunk turned cloudy, then dark with mud. The
seething subsurface disturbance began to spread, not in widening concentric circles as might have been
expected, but in perfectly straight lines. Five of them, shooting outward from an effervescent nexus, each
aligning itself with an arm of the no-longer-visible starfish. As the streaks of bubbling mud rushed away
from their source, they expanded until each was five, ten, then twenty feet wide. One raced right past the
island, passing between the herd and the sand.
As quickly as it had begun, the boiling and bubbling began to recede. It left behind a residue of uplifted
muck and marsh bottom. With the recession of activity, this began to congeal and solidify, leaving behind
a wide, solid pathway. Five of them, each corresponding to an arm of the starfish. They rose only an inch
or two above the surface of the water. Ehomba hoped it would be enough.
 You have been running too long in water. He indicated the improbable dirt roads.  Try running on that.
You might even see a way to run back to where you belong.
Tentatively, the Argentus stepped up onto the raised causeway. Ehomba held his breath, but the
stiffened mud did not collapse beneath the horse s weight, did not slump and separate back into a slurry
of soil and water. Experimentally, the Argentus turned a slow circle. It pawed at the surface with a front
hoof. When finally it turned back to face the travelers, Ehomba could see that it was crying silently.
 I did not know horses could cry, he observed.
 I can talk. Why should I not be able to cry? I don t know how to thank you. We don t know how to
thank you.
 Do not give thanks yet, Ehomba warned it.  You are still here, in the middle of these marshes. First
see if the paths let you go free. When you are no longer here, then you can thank me. The herdsman
smiled.  However far away you may be, I will hear you.
 I believe that you will. Turning, the Argentus reared back on its hind legs and pawed the air, a sharply
whinnying shaft of silver standing on hooves like bullion, mane shining in the hazy sunshine. Thousands of
ears pricked forward to listen. Once more the herd began to stir, but it was a different furor than before,
the agitation that arises from expectation instead of apprehension.
Hesitantly at first, then with increasing boldness, small groups began to break away from the main body.
The paints and the heavy horses led the way down one of the five temporary roads. Trotting soon gave
way to an energetic canter, and then to a joyous, exuberant, massed gallop. The thunder of thousands of
hooves shook the marsh, making the waterlogged surface of the island tremble with the rumble of the
herd s departure.
Hipparions and eohippuses led the hairier dawn horses off in another direction, choosing a different
road, as indeed they must. Their run led them not only out of the imprisoning marshes, but out of the
present context. In this world some of them would remain, but in all others they would find themselves
running back through time as well as meadow and field.
Eight-legged sleipnirs and narwhal-horned unicorns churned newly made dust from still a third path.
Winged horses shadowed their run, gliding low and easy above the path to freedom. All manner and
variety of imaginary and imagined siblings filled out this most remarkable gathering of all. There were
horses with glowing red eyes and fire breathing from their nostrils, horses with armored skin, and horses
the size of hippos. Several of these supported the merhorses, who with their webbed front feet and
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piscine hind ends could not gallop in company with their cousins.
Two more roads still lay open and unused. Trotting forward, the Argentus came right up to the travelers.
The thunder raised by the partitioned herd in its flight to freedom was already beginning to fade. A silvery
muzzle nuzzled Ehomba s face and neck. Even so close, Simna was unable to tell if the animal s skin was
fashioned of flesh or the most finely wrought silver imaginable.
Ehomba put a hand on the horse s snout and rubbed gently. Zebras responded to a similar touch and the
Argentus was no different. Superior it might be, perhaps even more intelligent than the humans, but it
reacted with a pleased snuffle and snort nonetheless.
Then it backed off, turned, and climbed up onto one of the two roads not yet taken. With a last flurry of
flashing mane and sterling tail, it trotted off down the empty roadway alone.
Birdsong returned hesitantly to the marsh, then in full avian cry. The hidden mutterings and querulous
cheeps of the bog again filled the now still air. From a nearby copse of high reeds a covey of green
herons unfolded grandly into the sky. The marshland was returning to normal.
In the distance in several directions, the dust raised by thousands of departing hooves was beginning to
settle. The edges of the roads were already starting to crumble, the momentarily consolidated marsh
bottom slowly ebbing under the patient infusion of water from beneath and both sides. Shouldering his
pack, Ehomba started forward.
 Hurry up. We need to make use of the road while it is still walkable.
Uncertain in mind but knowing better than to linger when the herdsman said to move, Simna grabbed his
own pack and splashed through the shallows after his friend. Ahlitah followed at a leisurely pace.
The swordsman glanced back at the island.  What about the boat?
Ehomba had crossed the road the Argentus had taken. That path was not for them. It led to the future,
and he had business in the present. He splashed energetically through the shallows toward the next road.
Simna trailed behind, working to catch up. The litah kept pace effortlessly, save for when it paused to
shake water from one submerged foot or the other.
 If we hurry and make time before the road comes apart completely, we will not need the boat,
Ehomba informed his companion.  It means that we may have to run for a while, but we should be able
to get out of these lowlands before evening. As he climbed up onto the second roadbed he glanced
back in the direction of the island.  I hope the old ape finds his boat. As soon as people discover that the
way through the marshland is no longer blocked by mad horses, they will begin exploring. I have a feeling
he will be among the first to do so. He started northward along the dry, flat surface.  I do not feel bad
about not returning it. More important matters draw us onward, and in any case, you overpaid him
significantly.
 I thought you didn t pay attention to such things. Simna trotted along fluidly next to his friend, marsh
water trailing down his lower legs to drain out between his toes. As they ran, both sides of the road
continued to crumble slowly but steadily into the turbid water. Ahlitah would run on ahead, then sit down
to lick and dry his feet as the two humans passed him, then rise up and pass them in turn once again. He
persevered with this procedure until his feet and lower legs were once more dry enough to pacify his
vanity.
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 Five roads arose from the five arms of the starfish, Simna was murmuring aloud.  One for the horses [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]