The Tiger's Egg (11 page)

“Then if Cortado finds the Tiger's Egg in Larde,”
said Miles, “he won't need you, will he?”

Doctor Tau-Tau laughed quietly. “Don't be absurd,” he said. “Only someone who has studied such things for years would be able to make head or tail of Celeste's notebooks, and Cortado knows it. They are written in a jumble of languages and symbols, some of which I'm sure she made up herself. I was only beginning to decipher the notebook when Cortado stole it from me, but he would not even know where to start. My . . . our only hope is to find the Tiger's Egg and somehow trick Cortado out of the notebook.” Doctor Tau-Tau did not sound too sure of this part of the plan, but he leaned forward and his eyes bulged in the semidarkness. “With the power of the Egg,” he whispered, “I would be safe from the little villain once and for all. The tiger is the only thing he's afraid of.” He settled back into his dressing gown and closed his eyes.

Miles sat for a while, his eyes straining into the darkness until it seemed to crawl with a million tiny dots. It was obvious that Doctor Tau-Tau would be of little use in working out a way to escape. He would have to make a plan himself to get the two of them out of there, but before he knew it the weariness of the day had overtaken him, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

M
iles Wednesday, bone-chilled and hollow-bellied, woke with a start with the now-familiar feel of a sharp stick being poked in his ribs. He had been dreaming of the tiger, who had peeled back the lid of the dark hole in which he sat, and was looking down at him with amusement, framed in the brilliant blue of a cloudless sky. His heart fell as he realized that he was still trapped in a cave, and the only person grinning down at him in the semidarkness was one of the hairy little guards. Even worse, he had fallen asleep before he could even begin to think of a plan for their escape. Morning, he supposed, had come upon them, and he was
being woken for his release. The guard was not one he remembered seeing before.

“Arrye liv,”
said the guard, jabbing him again with the pointed stick.

Doctor Tau-Tau received a similar poke, and was on his feet before his eyes were fully open. “What?” he mumbled. “Are we there yet?” He peered around blearily in the darkness.

“Where's Fuat?” asked Miles. “I need to talk to her.”

The guard showed no sign of understanding him, and hustled them outside to where the rest of the little men waited. Most of them, too, seemed to have just awoken. They jabbered among themselves, and two of them wrestled over a small flask, spilling most of the contents on the rocky slope before a drop could pass their lips. The new guard spoke sharply to them, and an argument broke out, with much gesticulating and everyone speaking at once.

Eventually agreement was reached. The guards got reluctantly to their feet and prodded their captives into the usual run, down toward the tunnel from which they had entered the cavern the day before, dodging sleeping knots of Fir Bolg who huddled here and there on the sloping floor. The
dim light was soon left behind as they entered the tunnels, and they moved quickly through the darkness for some time. Miles's mind raced as they ran, but he quickly realized the futility of trying to overpower the guards. He could neither see where they were nor avoid their spears, and he could not hope to find a way out with no hint of light. Besides, Doctor Tau-Tau's breathing was becoming more labored by the moment, and it did not seem likely that he would be of much help in a struggle. He could only cling to the hope that wherever they were going, their course would bring them closer to the tunnel entrance, and the light beyond it.

“Must . . . stop a mo . . . a moment,” panted Tau-Tau, as if to confirm what Miles was thinking. “Have to rest . . . .”

“Okay,” said the new guard. He spoke to the others and they stopped abruptly. Miles himself was grateful for the rest, but something didn't seem right, and in a moment he realized what it was.

“You can understand us?” he said, facing the sound of the guard's voice. “Where are you taking us?”

“Cover your eyes,” came the reply. Something about the guard's voice made Miles do as he was told, and not a moment too soon. There was a crack followed by a loud spluttering hiss. The cave was
filled with a pink light that was so bright it forced its way between Miles's fingers and soaked through his closed eyelids. He gasped with surprise, and heard Tau-Tau give out a startled shout, but that was nothing compared to the reaction of the other guards. The unfortunate little men shrieked as though they had been dropped into boiling soup, and all around came the sound of their spears falling to the ground. When Miles dared to open his eyelids a fraction he saw that the new guard seemed to hold in his hand a miniature sun that flooded the cave with intense light, while his howling companions had curled up tightly in a ball, or thrown themselves flat on their faces and were squirming as quickly as they could away from the light. Doctor Tau-Tau just sat on the floor, a floodlit, dressing-gowned heap with his face in his hands and his newly whitened hair standing out from his head like cotton candy.

“Gomo leshcule,”
said the Fir Bolg with the supernova. There was something about the guard's voice that did not fit with the hairy little troglodyte it came from. “Follow me,” he said to Miles. “We haven't got much time.”

He turned and disappeared into a tunnel that led from the cave. The intense light was beginning to
fade, and Miles quickly helped the dazed Tau-Tau to his feet before the pink glow could be swallowed up again by the darkness. They hurried along the narrow tunnel until once again it broadened out and they found themselves climbing a steep rocky slope. The Fir Bolg's light fizzled out, but they were not plunged into darkness as Miles had expected. From up ahead came a faint glow that he immediately recognized as daylight. The light was blue and fresh after the dull smoky orange that had lit their time underground, and he felt as though he were breathing for the first time in days.

At the top of the slope their hairy little guide disappeared into the light, and Miles and Doctor Tau-Tau clambered out after him, pushing through the bushes that hid the entrance to the subterranean world and emerging into the early evening of a cloudless day. They stood blinking in the bottom of the grassy bowl where they had first been captured, and Miles was rooted to the spot by the luminous beauty of the sky above them, which faded from a rich blue through salmon pink to the palest of yellows, where the sun neared the western horizon. He sucked in a deep breath of cold, outdoor air.

“Come on, Miles,” called the hairy figure from
halfway up the grassy slope, “we've only got until nightfall to get a head start.”

Miles blinked in disbelief. He could hardly believe his ears. “Little?” he said. “Is that
you
in there?”

“Of course it's me,” said the Fir Bolg. “Who did you think it was?”

Miles turned to Doctor Tau-Tau, who was staring blankly from one to the other. “Come on,” he said. “We'd better get moving.” He started up the slope, trying to catch up with the tiny bearded figure of his four-hundred-year-old friend. He was weak with hunger, but a burning curiosity drove him and he soon left the panting fortune-teller behind.

“Wait,” he called to Little, “wait for me!”

She stopped in the shadow of one of the tall rocky teeth. Behind the thick beard he could tell she was smiling.

“What . . . ?” gasped Miles as he caught up with her. “I mean, how . . . ?”

The hairy Little put her finger to her lips. “Shh,” she said, “I'll explain later. First we have to get rid of Doctor Tau-Tau.”

“How?” asked Miles. He could not take his eyes off Little now that he could see her better. Thick hair of a dirty grayish color grew from low on her
forehead, sweeping back over her head like a disheveled waterfall that reached almost to her knees. She wore a magnificent beard that had been rather hastily plaited in a few places, and the rest of her body seemed to be covered in a matted tangle of filthy hair and animal furs, bound here and there with thongs of hide. Only her sky-blue eyes were recognizable, smiling from under an old man's bushy eyebrows.

“Leave it to me,” she whispered, as Doctor Tau-Tau approached.

“What's going on?” huffed the fortune-teller, his bulging eyes almost popping from his head with the exertion. “Who is this filthy little fellow, and what's he up to, eh?”

“It's me, Doctor Tau-Tau,” said Little. “It's Little.”

Tau-Tau gaped at the hairy figure looking up at him. “By the twelve pillars of reason!” he said. “Where on earth did you get the outfit?”

“It's not an outfit,” said Little. “It's an Untried Marvel. At least it was until I tried it.”

“I'm not with you,” said Doctor Tau-Tau.

It suddenly dawned on Miles what Little was talking about. “Your Bearded Lady lotion!” he said.

Doctor Tau-Tau stared at Little in disbelief. “Is this true?” he demanded. Little nodded. “You mean to tell me you entered my wagon and stole one of my valuable mixtures?”

“She did it to help us escape!” said Miles indignantly. His sympathy for Doctor Tau-Tau's underground trauma was rapidly wearing thin. “Would you prefer to be in a cooking pot right now?”

Doctor Tau-Tau cleared his throat and turned to Little. “Well, under the circumstances, I suppose we can overlook the trespass,” he said.

“Thank you,” said Little. “I just hope this will wear off soon.”

“Wear off?” said Tau-Tau. “Yes, yes, of course. It will wear off in no time. In no time at all,” he repeated, “you'll be bald in all the right places.”

“Your lotion really is a work of genius,” said Little, “and that's why you should get away as fast as you possibly can, while me and Miles create a diversion for the Fir Bolg.”

“Really?” said Doctor Tau-Tau doubtfully. “But that would be very dangerous. I can't let you take such a risk.”

“It's all right,” said Little, “we won't get caught. And it's far more important that you get to safety.
Imagine if one of the world's greatest clairvoyants and healers ended up as supper for a pack of hungry cavemen.”

“I see what you mean,” said Tau-Tau with a look of ill-disguised relief. “Well, I'll be off then. Be careful, won't you?” He tightened the belt of his embroidered dressing gown and hurried away in the direction of the distant circus. “And if it does come to a tussle,” he called over his shoulder, “see if you can get my hat back, would you?”

As soon as he was lost to sight, Little took Miles by the hand, her hairy fingers tickling his, and led him around to the other side of the rock that loomed over them. Somehow he knew what he would see before they even turned the corner. There in the grass, as large as life and twice as magnificent, sat the Bengal tiger, his deep amber eyes regarding Miles with faint amusement.

“Well, tub boy,” said the tiger. “Here we are again, it seems.”

Miles nodded, lost for words in his surprise and delight.

“I'm disappointed in your choice of traveling companion,” said the tiger. “The fellow does not strike me as much of a guide. If he were of any
value at all on a long trip, it would have to be as an item on the menu.”

“That's exactly what he was,” said Miles, a surge of happiness welling up inside him at the sound of the tiger's voice, “until a short while ago.”

M
iles Wednesday, spear-poked and light-rescued, sat down suddenly on a smooth rock that jutted from the grass. He felt dizzy after his run through the darkness, and he could not remember the last time he had eaten. “How did you know where to find us?” he asked.

“I didn't find you,” said the tiger, “because I wasn't looking for you. I was taking a well-earned nap in a quiet spot when your little friend almost stepped on my tail. Not that I would have noticed, given that she weighs no more than a paper bag. If you want to know how you were saved from this particular scrape you will have to ask Little. Now
climb aboard if you're coming. The tiger is leaving.”

Miles climbed up behind Little onto the tiger's muscular back. It seemed an age since he had sat astride the tiger, but it was only a moment before he felt like he was right where he belonged, and every stripe of the mighty animal's pelt looked like a familiar friend. A chill wind was rising, and in Doctor Tau-Tau's silky dressing gown Miles found it harder than usual to grip the tiger's flanks. For a while he concentrated on keeping his balance, but he had too many questions to remain silent for long. “How
did
you find us?” he asked Little.

“I went to look for you the morning after Dulac's accident.” Her words were whipped over her shoulder by the wind, and Miles had to strain his ears to catch them as they flew by. “No one knew where you were, and by the evening I was getting worried. I asked around the animals, but only Eunice the lioness had seen you leave. She could still catch your scent on the breeze for a long time, so she was able to tell me which way you had gone. I guessed you wanted your trip to be a secret, because you hadn't told me you were leaving, so I followed you on my own.”

Miles felt a pang of guilt, though he could not tell from her windblown words whether she was
hurt at being excluded. “I'm sorry,” he shouted through chattering teeth. “I should have brought you with us. Doctor Tau-Tau said it would be a bad idea.”

“Maybe it would,” said Little. “If I'd been captured too, who would have come to get us? Anyway, I met a fox who had followed you most of the way. He said he could smell a chicken drumstick in the man's pocket, and he was hoping to catch him napping. Suddenly the fox disappeared, and a few moments later I almost ran into five of the Fir Bolg. They had been out hunting for rabbits, and luckily they were arguing over their catch and I managed to hide myself before they saw me. They disappeared into the hollow and they didn't come out, so after waiting awhile I moved to a closer hiding place to see where they had gone. That's when I bumped into the tiger.

“I was going to follow them down the hole, but the tiger said that they didn't look very friendly, and I wouldn't last five minutes. He offered to catch one of them for me and . . . well . . .” She sounded as though she was struggling to be diplomatic. “I didn't really like what he suggested,” she finished.

“It was a perfectly logical suggestion,” said the tiger. “And if it hadn't been for your squeamishness
you would have had an authentic Fir Bolg skin and I would have had a light snack.”

“Anyway,” continued Little, “that's when I thought of Doctor Tau-Tau's lotion, and the tiger very kindly offered to take me back to the circus to get it.”

“I don't recall offering, as it happens,” interrupted the tiger. “In fact, whenever you appear on the scene you seem to end up clinging to my back, and I'm chewed if I can remember how it comes about.”

“I was very grateful for your swiftness,” said Little. “Without you I would never have got to the circus and back to Hell's Teeth before sunrise, and I wouldn't like to have been caught on the road with hair coming from everywhere so fast you could watch it grow.”

Darkness was falling swiftly now, and the tiger hissed them to silence as they passed a lone figure trudging along the twilit road. It was Doctor Tau-Tau, his shoulders hunched and his eyes fixed on the ground, and as the tiger passed stealthily by through the woods Miles thought he could hear the fortune-teller muttering loudly to himself, his white cotton-candy hair flipped this way and that by the chilly breeze. The tiger picked up speed
again, and the figure of Doctor Tau-Tau was swallowed by the gloom.

“I hope he makes it back all right,” said Miles.

“Are you sure he deserves to?” asked the tiger.

“No one deserves to be eaten,” said Miles.

“I think we shall have to differ on that point,” said the tiger.

Miles was silent for a moment. He was hungrier than he could ever remember being, and his stomach felt as empty as a cave. He thought longingly of the campfire that burned in the center of the circus village each night, and wondered what delicious food Umor would have crackling on the spit when they arrived. He found himself thinking then of the strange, tiny men who lived their lives in darkness underground, and how they had fought over a cold greasy chicken leg garnished with pocket fluff.

“What did you say to the guards to get us out of the cave?” he asked Little.

“I told them that the soul of the Shriveled Fella had sent me, and that we had to bring you to the entrance to breathe sky air, or you would die.”

“How did you know about the Shriveled Fella?” asked Miles in surprise.

“I spent that whole day among the Fir Bolg, finding out about them and where they were keeping
you. I was there when he died.”

“How did you make the light?” asked Miles.

“It was one of the flares that Big Dan uses in his act. You know when they fire him from the cannon? I brought it from the circus when I went back for the lotion. I had seen that the Fir Bolg came out on a moonless night to hunt, so I had a feeling that the light must be painful to their eyes.”

The tiger slowed to a walk. The breeze had fallen to a whisper, and up ahead Miles could see the strings of colored bulbs swaying gently between the trailers, and the warm glow of the fire around which the circus performers would now be gathering to share their supper and swap stories of the day. The faint sound of an accordion reached his frozen ears. For a moment he wished that the tiger could just stroll into the circus with him and stay there as his friend, but as soon as it appeared the thought seemed absurd. It was impossible to imagine this lord of the distant jungle boxed in a wagon and trundling from town to town.

“This is as far as I go, tub boy,” said the tiger. Miles slid to the ground and rested his hand on the tiger's flank.

“I have a question,” he said.

The tiger turned to look at him. “I would be
surprised if you didn't,” he said, “although you should not take that as the promise of an answer.”

Miles took a deep breath. “Do you know anything about a Tiger's Egg?” he ventured.

“About as much as I know about a goat's wings,” replied the tiger. “Or an elephant's gills. I see we are back to the riddles.”

“It's just . . . ,” said Miles, looking over the tiger's shoulder at the circus lights, “Doctor Tau-Tau says a Tiger's Egg is a sort of stone that contains the soul of a tiger. Or . . . something.” He was sorry he had brought up the subject. The tiger stepped closer to him, his amber eyes drawing his gaze and making him feel like a small frightened herbivore.

“The only thing that could contain the soul of a tiger,” said the magnificent beast, “is a tiger.”

“I'm sorry if I offended you,” said Miles. “I just wanted to know if you'd heard of such a thing.”

“Ignorance does not offend the wise,” said the tiger, “but I would expect more from you than to be taken in by the patter of a sideshow huckster. Be wary of that man. He looks to me like a bag of wind, and my impressions are seldom wrong. At least if they are,” he said as he turned to leave, “I have yet to meet anyone who will tell me so.”

“You will be back, won't you?” said Miles.

The tiger paused and looked over his shoulder. “More than likely,” he said. “I'm beginning to enjoy the experience of talking to small animals without having to pick them from my teeth afterward.” As he disappeared into the night Miles thought he heard the tiger mutter, “Though I can't imagine why.”