behind it?’
Theodore uttered another groan. ‘Did that come out of one of your mistress’s books?’
Echo nodded eagerly.
‘And you’re also convinced there’s a man in the moon?’
Echo put his head on one side. ‘Shouldn’t I be?’ he asked cautiously.
‘The moon possesses no atphosmere!’ the Tuwituwu cried. ‘There’s no air up there! Your man in the moon would sucoffate!’
Echo thought hard. ‘Then who made the holes in the sky?’
The Tuwituwu covered his single eye with one wing and raised the other in supplication. He struggled for words.
‘You mean there isn’t any man in the moon?’ Echo asked anxiously.
‘No!’ said Theodore. ‘There isn’t a woman in the moon either, or a mooncalf! Or any Volcanic Dwarfs or Crater Dragons! The moon doesn’t shine so nicely because it’s made of silver sprinkled with diamond dust!’
‘Really not?’ said Echo. ‘Why, then?’
‘I can see we’ll have to adopt a far more emelentary approach,’ said Theodore. ‘My goodness, where to start?’
Echo sighed. ‘I know little enough about the world down here, but even less about the ones up there.’
‘First the holes,’ said Theodore. ‘They aren’t holes at all, they’re stars - suns like ours, but much further away. Got that?’
‘Suns,’ said Echo. ‘Got it.’
‘Good. Those are what exists in the uniserve: suns, platens, gaxalies - everything one can see and measure. Everything that exists.’ ‘Everything that exists,’ Echo repeated.
‘And do you see what’s in between the stars?’ Theodore raised one wing and indicated the night sky with a sweeping gesture.
‘The black stuff? Yes, I see it.’
‘But it’s nothing at all, so how can you see it?’
‘I don’t know …’ Echo replied uncertainly. ‘I just can.’
‘Exactly. It’s nothing, but you can see it just the same. That’s what might exist in the uniserve - what can’t be measured. There are lots of words for it. Fate. Love. Death …’
‘Death …’ Echo repeated darkly.
‘But we won’t bother about that for the moment. Let’s begin by contrencating on what definitely exists in the uniserve - on light rather than darkness. On the stars.’
‘Actually,’ said Echo, ‘I’m not all that interested in the stars. It’s the moon that interests me.’
The Tuwituwu gave him a sidelong glance. ‘Do you know why Crats are so scafinated by the moon? Especially by the full or Ugglian moon?’
‘Why should the full moon be called the Ugglian moon?’ Echo demanded. ‘What do Ugglies have to do with the moon?’
‘Nothing at all, properly speaking. It’s just a bit of medieval nonsense that’s survived until today. Strange things can happen when the moon is full, as you know. People do things they wouldn’t normally do, and since it’s always been the custom in Zamonia to blame the Ugglies for anything one doesn’t want to be held responsible for, they’re reputed to cast a spell over the moon when it’s full. That’s why it’s called the Ugglian moon. And the Ugglian moon, in its turn, is reputed to cast a spell over people and make them do crazy things. In the Middle Ages you could do all kinds of things: set fire to your neighbour’s house, paint his cow green and dance naked on your roof. As long as you did it when the moon was full, the Ugglies always got the blame.’
‘To be honest,’ said Echo, ‘I sometimes get the feeling that the full moon casts a spell over me.’
‘That brings us back to my original question. Why do you think Crats are so scafinated by the full moon?’
‘I really don’t know, but when it’s full I always feel … well, so crattish, as I call it.’
‘You feel particularly lively, you mean?’
‘Yes, exactly. I hardly sleep at all and when I do I have such funny dreams. And get such funny feelings.’
‘Funny dreams, funny feelings,’ said Theodore. ‘Well, well, that brings us to the subject of things that might exist, like the darkness between the stars. In this instance, love. Some people get bitten by it, others don’t.’
‘Love?’ said Echo. That was something he had yet to learn about.
‘You’re still very young. You haven’t reached buperty yet.’
‘Buperty?’
‘Well, how can I put it?’ Theodore faltered for a moment. He seemed to have ventured too far. Echo still wasn’t ready for this subject. ‘Yes, well …’ he said. ‘Didn’t your mistress enlighten you?’
‘Enlighten me? About what?’
‘Well, about it.’
‘It? What’s “it”?’
‘I’m talking about love. About … oh dear, how can I put it?’
Theodore sensed that he was getting into dangerous waters, so he tried to cut this awkward conversation short. ‘Well, it’s all to do with Cratesses.’ He heaved a sigh