[Bordertown 07] Last Hot Time by Ford John M

Author:Ford, John M. [Ford, John M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780312875787
Publisher: Tor
Published: 2000-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

NOVEMBER

At midday Doc found Cloudhunter in the walled garden, wearing black glasses against the bright, cold November sun, sketching the branches of a small fir tree.

“Cloud, what’s Nancy silk?”

Without looking up, Cloudhunter said, “It comes from our side of Division. ‘Nancy’ is a mortal kenning; we have others.”

“Is it true that it can’t be torn?”

“Not by hands. Nor cut by any dark edge.”

“What does it mean that it can’t be taken?”

Cloudhunter put down his pad and charcoal. He reached inside his jacket, drew out the end of his starry blue scarf. With complete patience, he said, “It may only change hands as a free-willed gift; if stolen, or sold for dross, it always returns, and leaves bad fortune behind. The Weavers give it to some of the gwaed gwir; sometimes we give it to yours.”

Cloudhunter ran the scarf through his fingers. “These, and shawls, are the commonest gifts, simple flat pieces. There is a story of a shirt, woven all of a piece, since needle will not pierce it. I do not know if the story is true. If it is, all Elfland would not ransom it.”

“I see. Thank you, Cloud.” Doc tried to imagine that: at home he had known people who wove cloth, and all the women sewed, of course. A fragment of a song floated through his head: without a seam, or needlework … “How could you weave a whole shirt in one piece?” He thought of the drape of a shoulder, joining a sleeve. “What kind of loom?”

Cloud looked up at Doc. He pressed the heels of his hands together, arched the fingers. “Eight legs, same as spin it.”

“Oh.” Suddenly the beautiful cloth made him uneasy. “Thanks, Cloud.”

“Always.” He tucked the scarf around his throat. “May I ask you a favor, Doc? In return, if you please?”

“Of course.”

“There is a hall of relics—a museum—in the city, just beyond the Shadow line. It is called the Field, though I believe that is a person’s name.”

“Yeah. The natural history museum. I’ve heard of it.”

“Have you ever visited it?”

“No.”

“Then would you like to do so with me?”

“Now?”

“If you have no other obligations.”

Mr. Patrise assured Doc that he was free for the day. “Render unto Caesar,” Patrise said.

“Sorry, sir?”

“Have Lisa give you some honest American folding money from the safe. The World has its ways.”

Cloudhunter proposed that they walk, but after consulting a map and guidebook they decided that the museum would be exercise enough. When Cloud stood by Doc’s Triumph, it never seemed possible that the Ellyll could fit into the little car, but he folded himself in without apparent effort. Doc drove them south, over the river and into the World. The transition was barely visible in clear daylight, and Doc felt nothing; if Cloud did, he didn’t show it. “I appreciate this,” he said to Doc. “I have gone with Stagger Lee to the science museum, farther down the coast, but he has never shown much interest in this one.”

“I always figured Stagger was interested in everything,” Doc said idly.

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