The Night Market (25 page)

Waiting in the dark for the sun to rise, for an end to
bad dreams and strange lights. Toes clinging to the edge of an exposed girder,
wind howling through the rusted carcass of a factory, the unpredictable music
of desolation. Her knees tremble at the idea, the pure exhilaration of falling.

Retreat was
impossible. The toads were everywhere. Swarming up from the banks of the canal,
naked and glistening with exuded mucus, some edging out of the tangle of alleys
behind them, moving unsteadily beneath layers of heavily embroidered cloth. The
shadows teemed unpleasantly with them, like cockroaches running from a
flashlight.

Yael felt contact against her ankles, warm and smooth.
She almost flinched before she realized that it was a cat. Two cats, rather –
Snowball stood in front of her, almost sitting on her feet, casually licking
one paw, while Tobi’s back pressed against the rear of her calves. He was
hissing, his hackles raised and claws extruded.

“Miss Kaufman is under the protection of the Cats of
Ulthar, should she require it,” Snowball declared mildly, appearing for the
entire world to be disinterested in the massive swarm of toads. “Mr. Sothoth
and Mr. Yog – am I correct? It has been some time since we last saw you in the
Nameless City. Are you here to offer legal advice?”

“In a sense,” Mr. Sothoth burbled, holding out one
hand to stay the mass of toads. “Miss Kaufman is, after all, our client...”

“Is that all?” Yael said, smiling at the veiled
lawyer. “Then you are fired. Are we done?”

“Unmerited, Miss, unmerited!” Mr. Sothoth cried out indignantly.
“We only represent your best interests in this matter.”

“Of course,” Yael agreed. “And in this case, my best
interests would be what, exactly?”

“Why, to be reunited with your family, who love and
miss you, of course,” Mr. Sothoth explained patiently. “What happier ending to
your story could you hope for?”

“My parents have forgotten me by now. You know that.
The only family I have that fits that description is my brother, Mr. Sothoth.
Do you propose to take me to Avici? Shall I find safety in the company of dread
Azazoth?”

“It sounds very much as if your council is no longer
required here, my dear lawyers. I suggest you leave now, before things turn
against you further,” Snowball warned, smoothing back his split and bent
whiskers. “Friendly advice.”

“We are not in Ulthar,” Mr. Sothoth observed
gleefully. “You are in no position to offer suggestions, I am afraid.”

“In that case, some unfriendly advice – do keep
running your mouth, Mr. Sothoth,” Snowball said, his claws darting briefly out
of one mangled paw. “It will make matters all the more enjoyable.”

“This is your last chance, Yael Kaufman,” Mr. Sothoth
said, black eyes glimmering. “Either come with us of your own accord, or we
will have no choice but to force you to return. I fear for the safety of your
feline companions, should something of that nature transpire.”

“Do you? I can’t imagine why,” Yael said, pulling her
gas mask down over her face. “Cats have nine lives, after all. How many do
lawyers have, I wonder?”

“Too many for my taste,” Snowball remarked crisply.
“Tobi? How are we doing?”

“Right on schedule, Lord,” Tobi said tersely. “Ready
and waiting for your signal.”

“Whatever are you talking about?” Mr. Sothoth inquired
jubilantly. “Do you have a surprise for us, Lord of Ulthar?”

“No surprises,” Snowball said, shaking his head. “It’s
really quite obvious. Yael Kaufman – I am afraid we no longer have time for pleasantries.
The Cats of Ulthar would offer you their support, in return for an alliance
with you and yours, when the time comes. What do you say?”

“I am alone...”

“At the moment. You won’t be forever.”

“...but for myself, I would be glad of your help,”
Yael said, as formally as she could manage while wearing a gas mask. “And any
help I could afford you in the future, I would be happy to provide.”

“Not quite the traditional language, but it will do in
a pinch, don’t you think, Tobi?”

“I think so, my lord.”

“Are you done?” Mr. Sothoth slobbered. “Because I am
starting to feel left out.”

“Dear me,” Snowball said, extending the claws on one
paw. “Let us do something about that, shall we?”

Then, all of a sudden, the night was filled with cats.

***

Toads.

Cats.

Yael was starting to realize how relative – how
biased
– her conception of reality was. For example:

Toads, while hideous, were not known for their
tendency toward homicidal mob violence.

Nor did cats organize themselves into a rather
effective combat formation in Yael’s experience.

They maintained a defensive line along the river.
Elite phalanxes of stray and vicious felines darted in to attack wherever the
toads threatened to overrun their ranks, then disappeared back into the general
fray. The cats acted in small groups, several distracting the toads while
others occupied their gelatinous tentacles. A dozen cats could overwhelm a
toad, dragging it down to the cobblestones to be torn apart.

Actually, that was another thing, Yael thought,
dodging around one glistening toad as he went down, shrieking in infrasonic
horror as the cats shredded him – cats weren’t known for taking sides in
things. Even the non-talking variety.

She remembered the indifference of a dozen different
housecats over the years with a vague sense of puzzlement, before a tentacle
almost took her head off, reminding Yael that this was a bad time to reminisce.

Yael twisted and spun around the next few toads while
the cats worried them, then dove between two toads that lurched toward her. The
closest lurched and stumbled, blinded by a cat whose claws dug firmly into its
headdress and veil, while the other lashed out wildly at anything that came
near, buried under a constantly moving layer of ferocious cats. Yael paused to
scan the chaos around her for an opening, then sprinted forward, moving as
quickly as possible across the cobblestone road toward the bridge were Mr. Yog
and Mr. Sothoth waited, as stolid as mountain peaks surrounded by storm heads.
The toad nearest her fell under the combined weight of more cats than she could
count. Yael took advantage by planting one boot on the back of its amorphous
head, using it to springboard over the next flailing monstrosity.

Yael barely saw the toad that lifted her from the
ground. A fluid limb seized her effortlessly and wrapped around her waist. The
tentacle around her middle was colorless and slick with mucous. Yael forced
herself to wait calmly until the thing drew her to its eyeless face, leaning
close to examine her in whatever way the toads were capable, then she pressed
the button on the side of her can of mace.

She would have rather used the sprayer on top – it was
her last one, after all – but she had no idea where the toad kept its
vulnerable parts, assuming it had any. Yael could only hope as the tentacle
around her middle grew taut, cutting into the skin and inhibiting her ability
to breathe.

Nothing is real
, she reminded herself, her mouth
working like a fish out of water.

The limb slackened and Yael wriggled her way free,
while the toad was wracked with spasms and seizures. She crawled on her hands
and knees in the direction of the bridge, sweat condensing on the lenses of her
mask and obscuring her vision. Eventually, Yael fought her up into a sort of
shuffling crouch, her side aching fiercely from the toad’s grasp.

Yael lacked the energy to dodge the toad who managed
to latch onto her left ankle with one elongated arm, the cold flesh wrapping
tight around her leg and pulling her back. She dug into the ground with her
fingers and kicked her legs as best she could in an attempt to free herself.

All she saw of Tobi were eyes and teeth. The arm of
the toad was severed, a small part of the wake of carnage the cat left behind. Halfway
to her feet, Yael paused, awestruck as Tobi leapt from one toad to another, blinding
and distracting them with claws and teeth, always managing to be one step ahead
of their counterattacks.

“Keep going, Yael,” Tobi commanded, effortlessly
leaping out of the way of an attack aimed in his direction, the toad that had
leapt for him colliding instead with the metal railing behind the cat. “Don’t turn
back for anything.”

There was no time for her to acknowledge his words.
Tobi disappeared into the bewildering melee that surrounded her and Yael dashed
toward the bridge.

The cats, she realized, were cutting a path for her,
the sound of their wailing almost deafening as they threw themselves recklessly
at the surging toads, a blur of reflective eyes and sinuous tails. The toads
parted in front of her like the Sea of Reeds, but at a cost – Yael frequently
found herself stepping over the broken corpses of fallen cats, mangled by the
amorphous limbs of the toads. She kept herself from looking down as she made
her way to the bridge, afraid that she would see Tobi there.

The bridge itself was like an island in the middle of
the combat, empty of both toads and cats. Only the two lawyers remained between
her and Kadath beyond, the vacant alleys and abandoned tenements bringing a
nostalgic twinge to Yael’s heart, reminding her of the industrial wasteland
around Roanoke. Mr. Sothoth waited in front, clutching an exotic brass device
that looked like a cross between a weathervane and a musical instrument. Mr.
Yog loomed behind him, burdened by sweeping yards of fabric, black eyes glinting
malevolently in the insistent light of the grotesque moon.

“I will cross this bridge,” Yael said firmly,
advancing on the two lawyers with her hands clenched behind her back. “Do you
intend to stop me?”

“Dissuade, perhaps?” Mr. Sothoth suggested.
“Personally, I abhor violence.”

“Don’t we all?” Yael asked thoughtfully, continuing
her slow advance across the stone bridge. She risked a glance over the side,
but the river beneath them hardly seemed to merit the massive concrete canal
that it ran through, much less a bridge to cross over it.

“I’m afraid that Mr. Yog regards it as a regrettable
necessity.”

“A practical point of view.”

“Should I not be able to dissuade you from your
errand...”

“Why is it that you care? Are you simply here as
representatives of the Outer Dark? There is more to it, isn’t there, Mr.
Sothoth?”

The veil rattled to accommodate something that Yael
decided generously to call a smile.

“You always were the bright one, Miss Kaufman,” Mr.
Sothoth said, shaking her with the sickening self-assurance in his voice. “Oh,
you and your brother were both prodigies, and garnered a great deal of
attention from the beginning. Thanks to the potential the two of you
represented, the Outer Dark saw to it that you were provided with all the
comforts – a stable home, a prosperous family, a loving stepmother...”

“Thank you for that last one, by the way. Marlene is a
real peach.”

Yael stopped just far enough to be out of reach of Mr.
Sothoth’s staff, or whatever it was, should he choose to swing it at her.

“We selected her carefully, as we selected everything
in your life, in an attempt to conform you to an ideal. But you never wanted
any part of that, did you, Yael Kaufman? Tell me, what was it that drove you to
run off to the ruins and consort with the scum you found there – did we fail to
provide you with something?”

“Maybe we just have different ideas about what constitutes
an ideal life,” Yael said, shrugging. “It’s nothing that you should take
personally, Mr. Sothoth.”

“That is good to hear. As I was saying – none of us
ever doubted your brother’s genius. We even convinced Randolph Carter to offer
him instruction, no easy thing given the man’s feelings about your peculiar
faith. But your brother’s flighty nature and lack of focus, his general
acquiescence to the circumstances we arranged – I am afraid the smart money was
on you from the beginning.”