The New Weird - Ann VanderMeer [133]
Tortuoise with huge shells crawled frustratingly slowly up and down between the stalls, towing baskets on wheels. There were Silvans, child-shaped shadows who live only in the shade of cave mouths and tree-throws in the forest. At the furthest end of the cavern, where the subterranean denizens who prefer to stay away from the light shop and sell their wares, hibernating Cave Elephants had worn hollows in the velvet sediment.
"Call her back!" the Vermiform chorused. "The Gabbleratchet could be here any second!"
I glanced at the cave mouth.
The Vermiform said, "It doesn't need an entrance. It can go anywhere! It can go places you can't, where the atmosphere is poisonous:
hydrogen, phosphorus, baked beans. You saw that solid rock is nothing to it. It can run straight through a planet without noticing."
A big, lumpen Vadose was standing by a stall. Cyan realised that the man was made of clay. She sank her fingers into its thigh, pulled out a handful and started moulding it into a ball. The Vadose turned round, "Excuse me, would you return that, please?"
"It's my dream and I can do what I want!"
"Dream?" articulated the Vadose. "I assure you, poppet, this is no oneiric episode."
The ball of clay in Cyan's hands puffed up into a tiny version of the Vadose ― it tittered and waved at her. She yelped and dropped it. It ran on little feet to one of the Vadose's thick legs and merged smoothly with it. Cyan slapped its round belly, leaving a palm imprint.
The Vadose cried out bashfully and caught the attention of a Doggerel guard stalking past. It was a big bloodhound, bipedal on its hock-kneed back legs, wearing a constable's coat and the helmet of a market guard, black with a gold spike on top. The chin strap was lost in its drooping jowls. It rhymed:
"Shall I remove this silly lass
Who seems to be doing no sort of good?
In fact, you seem in some impasse."
The Vadose said, "Yes, if you would."
It placed its paw on Cyan's shoulder but she wasn't perturbed. She gave it a kick. Its hackles raised; it picked her up, tucked her under one arm and carried her to us. It set Cyan down in front of me:
"Here is your rowdy friend,
Please keep her close.
Otherwise she may offend
One more dangerous than Vadose."
"Thanks," I said.
"Talk in rhyme
All the time," insisted the Doggerel.
"First we are chased, then we are irritated," complained the Vermiform.
"No, wait," I said. "I can do it. Thanks for being so lenient
For my friend is no deviant
She's a tourist here for the first time
From now on she'll behave just fine."
The Doggerel sniggered. "Only a tourist and she looks so boring?
I'll leave in case she has me snoring." It strode away with dignity, sturdy tail waving.
Cyan said, "If this is a jook dream I'm going to do it all the time." She set off towards the pool but the Vermiform snared her round the waist. She beat her fists at the worms reeling her in. "Hey! Get off me!"
A small black puppy was trailing her. When she stopped, it sat down on its haunches and looked at her intently. It had pointed ears and alert, intelligent eyes. "It's following me," she said. "It's cute. Makes a change from everything else in here."
"It's just a Yirn Hound," the Vermiform said dismissively and pushed it out of the way. It took a couple of steps to the side, resumed staring at Cyan.
"Can I pick it up?" she asked, and as she was speaking another dog padded towards her from under the nearest stall. It sat down and regarded her. She looked puzzled. Another two followed it, clustered close and stared up plaintively. Three more materialised from behind the corner of the next row and joined them.
The Vermiform's surface rippled in a sigh. "They're desire made manifest. For every want or desire that a young woman has, a Yirn Hound pops into existence. If you stay in this world you won't be able to get rid of them. They will follow you around