Quest for the Well of Souls - Jack L. Chalker [75]
"What are they? Gas bubbles?" Vistaru shook her head.
"We're not sure what they are," the Ghiskind admitted. "One thing is for sure—they have mass, and all that implies."
The Masjenadans who'd flown through each other settled a few centimeters above the ground just before their visitors.
The Ghiskind approached to within a few meters of them. "The Lata hate snakes," it said mysteriously.
A bright yellow light suddenly glowed inside one of the creatures. "Unless the snake is a Lata," responded the creature, in a voice thin, high-pitched, and somewhat reverberant.
The sign and countersign properly given, the group relaxed. "I am the Ghiskind of Yugash," the crystal form resonated. "These are Antor Trelig and Burodir of Makiem, Makorix and Faal of Dillia, Vistaru of Lata, and Roget of Agitar," it introduced, using Renard's alias, "all of the South."
The Masjenadans' bodies turned slightly, apparently to survey the others.
"We have just signaled others," the one glowing yellow said. "In a few minutes we'll have everything we need here. It is possible that we can transport you across in a day, a bit more at the most."
That was good news to all of them.
"What about the other party?" Burodir asked them. "Any word?"
The light went out for a moment, then returned. "They crossed well north of here," the Masjenadan replied. "They, too, are using friends to fly them. We would think we will maintain about the same distance, about a half-day's walking."
"Anything more about Pugeesh?" Renard asked worriedly.
"You will receive better information in Oyakot," the swan replied. "We know little."
They paused for a few moments. Suddenly the air was filled with glittering Masjenadans. The strange creatures began to fly into one another, weaving back and forth, into, through, and between one another in an intricate pattern. As they did, things started to happen.
First, each pass-through seemed to generate a long strand of glassy rope. The patterns became more intricate, and they wove the stiff substance into a single fabric, like a great net.
"Where does all that stuff come from?" Vistaru wondered aloud.
"From them, I think," the Ghiskind responded. "Parts of their bodies. Remember, in the North things might be totally different from one hex to another. Not merely different varieties of life, but different kinds entirely—one totally alien to the other. Yugash has bordered here since Midnight at the Well of Souls, yet we have no better notion of what they do, why they do it, or how they do it than at the start."
The eerie aerial ballet was completed now and a great woven structure that seemed to have real flex was the result. The Ghiskind was right: the construction seemed actually to be a part of the creatures, attached to them.
Now swans not connected to the net looped and flew and crashed into each other—only this time they did not reappear on the other side, rather they merged into each other, into single Masjenadans twice the bulk of the original. These then repeated the process with other combined creatures, until eight huge swans perhaps twelve meters in length almost covered the group. These fanned out and paired on either side of the netting, flowing a bit into the webbing but not into the still normal-size creatures attached, and lowered the whole thing to the ground.
The travelers were a bit awed by all this, and it took the Ghiskind to snap them out of it.
"Let's get the equipment onto the net!" it ordered, and after a few moments they started, first rolling the cart on, then the loose packs. Finally they spread a huge skin rug to the rear and another forward, with the freight between. Some experiments with balancing freight and people were needed, but after a few false starts they had it.
Vistaru was nervous about the spartan accommodations. "Shouldn't we all have seat belts or something?" she asked uncertainly.
"Just relax," the Ghiskind said.