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. It was as soft as flower,petals, and it still gave off a faint dusty
glow. . . .
"Bravo!" said a familiar voice, and I fumed until I saw the smile
followed by the Cat, who was tapping his paws lightly together. "Callooh!
Callay!" he added. "Well done, beamish boy!"
The background wavering grew stronger, and the sky darkened. I heard
Luke say "Hey!" and when I glanced back I saw him getting to his feet,
moving forward. When I looked again I could see the bar forming at the Cat's
back, and I caught a glimpse of the brass rail. My head began to swim.
"There's normally a deposit on the Vorpal Sword," the '' Cat was
saying. "But since you're returning it intact-"
Luke was beside me. I could hear music again, and he was humming along
with it. Now it was the clearing, with its butchered Fire Angel, that seemed
the superimposition, as the bar increased in solidity, taking on nuances of
color and shading.
But the place seemed somehow smaller-the tables closer together, the
music softer, the mural more compressed and its artist out of sight. Even
the Caterpillar and his mushroom had retreated to a shadowy nook, and both
seemed shrunken, the blue smoke less dense. I took this as a vaguely good
sign, for if our presence there were a result of Luke's state of mind then
perhaps the fixation was losing its hold on him.
"Luke?" I said
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