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themselves with a campfire. Frequently he glanced at hiswrist. It bore no watch instead, a
radio-controlled dial,to tell what the instruments in the bus might register.
Who needed a watch here? Slow constellationswheeled beyond glimmering aurora. The moon Alde
stood above a snowpeak, turning it argent, though thisplace lay at a goodly height. The rest of the
mountainswere hidden by the forest that crowded around. Itstrees were mostly shiverleaf and feathery
white plu-mablanca, ghostly amid their shadows. A few fire-thorns glowed, clustered dim lanterns, and
theunderbrush was heavy and smelled sweet. You couldsee surprisingly far through the blue dusk.
Somewherenearby a brook sang and a bird fluted.
"Lovely here," Sherrinford said. They had risen
356 Poul Anderson
from their supper and not yet sat down or kindled theirfire.
"But strange," Barbro answered as low. "I wonder ifit's really meant for us. If we can really hope to
possessit."
His pipestem gestured at the stars. "Man's gone tostranger places than this."
"Has he? I...oh, I suppose it's just something leftover from my outway childhood, but do you know,
whenI'm under them I can't think of the stars as balls of gas,whose energies have been measured, whose
planets havebeen walked on by prosaic feet. No, they're small and cold and magical; our lives are bound
to them; after wedie, they whisper to us in our graves." Barbro glanceddownward. "I realize that's
nonsense."
She could see in the twilight how his face grew tight."Not at all," he said. "Emotionally, physics may be a
worse nonsense. And in the end, you know, after a suffi-cient number of generations, thought follows
feeling.Man is not at heart rational. He could stop believing thestories of science if those no longer felt
right."
He paused. "That ballad which didn't get finished inthe house," he said, not looking at her. "Why did it
affect you so?"
"I was overwrought. I couldn't stand hearingthem.well, praised. Or that's how it seemed. My apologies
forthe fuss."
"I gather the ballad is typical of a large class."
"Well, I never thought to add them up. Culturalanthropology is something we don't have time for on
Roland, or more likely it hasn't occurred to us, witheverything else there is to do. But now you mention
it,yes, I'm surprised at how many songs and stories havethe Arvid motif in them."
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"Could you bear to recite it for me?"
She mustered the will to laugh. "Why, I can do betterthan that if you want. Let me get my multilyre and
I'llperform."
She omitted the hypnotic chorus line, though, whenthe notes rang out, except at the end. He watched her
where she stood against moon and aurora.
THE QUEEN OF AIR AND DARKNESS 357
" the Queen of Air and Darknesscried softly under sky:
" 'Light down, you ranger Arvid, and join the Outling folk.You need no more be human,which is a heavy
yoke.'
"He dared to give her answer:'I may do naught but run.A maiden waits me, dreamingin lands beneath the
sun.
" 'And likewise wait me comradesAnd tasks I would not shirk,for what is Ranger Arvidif he lays down
his work?
" 'So wreak your spells, you Outling,and cast your wrath on me.Though maybe you can slay me,you'll
not make me unfree.'
"The Queen of Air and Darkness stood wrapped about with fearand northlight-flares and beautyhe
dared not look too near.
"Until she laughed like harpsongand said to him in scorn:'I do not need a magicto make you always
mourn.
" 'I send you home with nothingexcept your memory of moonlight, Outling music,night breezes, dew, and
me.
" 'And that will run behind you, a shadow on the sun,and that will lie beside youwhen every day is done.
358 Poul Anderson
" 'In work and play and friendshipyour grief will strike you dumb for thinking what you are and what
you might have become.
" 'Your dull and foolish womantreat kindly as you can.Go home now, Ranger Arvid,set free to be a
man!'
"In flickering and laughter the Outling folk were gone. He stood alone by moonlight and wept until the
dawn.The dance weaves under the firethorn."
She laid the lyre aside. A wind rustled leaves. After along quietness Sherrinford said, "And tales of this
kindare part of everyone's life in the outway?"
"Well, you could put it thus," Barbro replied."Though they're not all full of supernatural doings. Someare
about love or heroism. Traditional themes."
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