grow
my gorge rises when the distinction is lost.’
“ ‘Most certainly!’ spoke the mage. ‘As it happens, the sharp distinction between greater and lesser breeds of snarls has long been one of my philosophy’s principal tenets.’ He cleared his throat again. ‘Sirrah forest snarl, I have learned in my studies that there can be more than one meaning to the same word, a different purport poured into the same verbal vessel, if you will—nevertheless, it is possible—’
“ ‘Cut to the chase,’ growled the snarl. A hideous purple tongue licked its immense jaws. ‘If you will pardon the expression.’
“Another clearing of the wizard’s throat. ‘Quite so. Then, let me ask—how long is “always”?’
“ ‘Wizard, we were here in the time of Joe.’
“ ‘Blasphemy!’ cried out the cleric, who suddenly lunged from the seat where he had been cowering and leaned out the window. ‘O gross animism! Idolatry! J—nay, I cannot speak his name—this creature is a concoction of heathen fantasies! The legend is an abhorrence before God!’ He stretched forth a hand to the woman. ‘Repent, urchin of the forest! Repent! For while an anarchist beast has no soul and may utter abominations with wild abandon, you stand in mortal peril—nay, immortal peril! Take heed! For the wrath of—’; a snarl glided to the coach and rose up before the parson; two gruesome paws seized the door. The monster was mute; but its gaze was enough to send the parson reeling back, ashen-faced. ‘Shut up, you fool,’ hissed La Contessa.
“The wizard made to continue his questioning, but the woman cut him short. ‘Begone, sirrah. The snarls grow restless; of all human flesh, my friends find that of clerics sweetest—they say the sanctimony adds flavor to the meat.’ She turned slowly away and passed into the forest; once only her eyes gleamed back. Then all was silence; the snarls vanished as if by magic—but I saw the huge one stop for a moment in front of the dwarf, and lick his face with that horrid purple tongue.
“ ‘Come, dwarf,’ spoke the wizard. ‘We shall pursue our investigations upon some other occasion.’ The two returned to the coach. Meanwhile Sir Carayne, his courage of a sudden regained, roared at the driver and the guard. ‘Get out, you dogs!’ He yanked the shivering fellows out of the baggage rack and booted them out the door. ‘Back to your posts! Knaves! Deserters!’ They made no protest; clear enough it was their only thought to depart the area at once. In a moment the coach was clattering down the path at a reckless