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〃He knew me too？〃 〃He loved you。〃
〃Where is he now？〃
〃That's a whole other story。〃
〃Is it？〃 Gentle replied。 〃Or is it all one？〃
They walked on along the river； exchanging questions and answers as they went。 At Gentle's request Clem recounted Taylor's story； from life to deathbed； from deathbed to light； and Gentle in his turn offered what clues he had to the nature of the journey he'd returned from。 Though he could remember very few of the details； he knew that unlike Taylor's it had not taken him into brightness。 He'd lost many friends along the way…their names mingled with those of the lives he'd lived…and seen the deaths of many others。 But he'd also witnessed the wonders he'd painted on the walls。 Sunless skies that shimmered green and gold； a palace of mirrors； like Versailles； vast； mysterious deserts and ice cathedrals full of bells。 Listening to these traveler's tales； the vistas of hitherto unknown worlds spreading in all directions； Clem felt his earlier ease with the notion of an unbounded self； going into some limitless adventure； falter。 The very divisions he'd happily tried to persuade Gentle from at the outset of this report looked tempting now。 But they were a trap； and he knew it。 Their fort would smother and hobble him eventually。 He had to unburden himself of his old； stale ways of thinking if he was to travel alongside this man into places where dead souls were light and being was a function of thought。
〃Why did you e back？〃 he asked Gentle after a time。
〃I wish I knew；〃 Gentle replied。
〃We should find Judith。 I think maybe she knows more about this than either of us。〃
〃I don't want to leave these people； Clem。 They took me in。〃
〃I understand that；〃 Clem said。 〃But Gentle； they can't help you now。 They don't understand what's going on。〃
〃Nor do we；〃 Gentle reminded him。 〃But they listened when I told my story。 They watched me paint； and they asked me questions； and when I told them the visions I'd had they didn't mock me。〃 He stopped and pointed over the river towards the Houses of Parliament。 〃The lawgivers'll be ing there soon；〃 he said。 〃Would you trust what I just told you to them？ If we said to them that the dead e back in sunlight and there are worlds where the sky's green and gold； what would they say？〃 〃They'd say we were crazy。〃
〃Yes； And throw us into the gutter with Monday and Carol and Irish and all the rest。〃
〃They're not in the gutter because they had visions； Gentle；〃 Clem said。 〃They're there because they've been abused； or they've abused themselves。〃
〃Which means they can't cover their despair the way the rest can。 They've got no distractions from their pain。 So they get drunk and crazy； and the next day they're even more lost than they were the day before。 But I'd still rather trust them than all the bishops and the ministers。 Maybe they're naked； but isn't that a holy state？〃
〃It's also a vulnerable one；〃 Clem pointed out。 〃You can't drag them into this war。〃
〃Who said there's going to be a war？〃 〃Judith；〃 Clem replied。 〃But even if she hadn't； it's in the air。〃
〃Does she know who the enemy's going to be？〃 〃No。 But it'll be a hard battle； and if you care for these people you won't put them in the front line。 They'll be there when the war's over。〃
Gentle pondered this for a time。 Finally； he said； 〃So they'll be the peacemakers。〃
〃Why not？ They can spread the good news。〃
Gentle nodded。 〃I like that；〃 he said。 〃And so will they。〃
〃So shall we go and find Judith？〃
〃I think that'd be wise。 But first； I have to say goodbye。〃
The day came with them as they retraced their steps along the bank； and by the time they reached the underpass the shadows were no longer black but gray…blue。 Some of the beams had found their way through the concrete bridges and barricades and were edging towards the threshold of the garden。
〃Where did you go？〃 Irish said； meeting his Gentile at the gate。 〃We thought you'd slipped away。〃
〃I want you to meet a friend of mine；〃 Gentle said。 〃This is Clem。 Clem； this is Irish； this is Carol and Benedict。 Where's Monday？〃
〃Asleep；〃 said Benedict； the sometime guard。
〃What's Clem short for？〃 Carol asked。
〃Clement。〃
〃I've seen you before；〃 she said。 〃Didn't you used to bring round soup？ You did； didn't you？ I never forget faces。〃
Gentle led the way through the gate and into the garden。 The fire was almost out； but there were enough embers to thaw chilled fingers。 He squatted down beside the fire and poked at it with a stick to stir some flame； beckoning Clem to warm himself。 But as Clem bent to do so he stopped。
〃What is it？〃 Gentle said。
Clem's eyes went from the fire to the bundled forms still slumbering all around： twenty or more； still lost in dreams； though the light was creeping over them。
〃Listen；〃 he said。
One of the sleepers was laughing； so softly it was barely audible。
〃Who is that？〃 Gentle said。 The sound was contagious and brought a smile to his face。
〃It's Taylor；〃 Clem said。
〃There's no one here called Taylor；〃 Benedict said。
〃Well； he's here；〃 Clem replied。
Gentle stood up and scanned the sleepers。 In the far corner of the garden Monday was lying flat on his back； with a blanket barely covering his paint…spattered clothes。 A beam of morning light had found its straight； bright way between the concrete pillars and was settled on his chest； catching his chin and his pale lips。 As if its gilding tickled； he laughed in his sleep。
〃That's the boy who made the paintings with me；〃 Gentle said。
〃Monday；〃 Clem remembered。
〃That's right。〃
Clem picked his way through the dormitory to the youth's side。 Gentle followed； but before he reached the sleeper the laughter faded。 Monday's smile lingered； however； the sun catching the blond hairs on his upper lip。 His eyes didn't open； but when he spoke it was as if he saw。
〃Look at you； Gentle；〃 he said。 〃The traveler returned。 No； I'm impressed； really I am。〃
It wasn't quite Taylor's voice…the larynx shaping it was twenty years too young…but the cadences were his； so was the sly warmth。
〃Clem told you I was hanging around； I presume。〃
〃Of course；〃 Clem said。
〃Strange times； eh？ I used to say I'd been born into the wrong age。 But it looks as though I died into the right one。 So much to gain。 So much to lose。〃
〃Where do I begin？〃 Gentle said。
〃You're the Maestro； Gentle； not me。〃
〃Maestro； am I？〃
〃He's still remembering； Tay；〃 Clem explained。
〃Well； he should be quick about it；〃 Taylor said。 〃You've had your holiday； Gentle。 Now you've got some healing to do。 There's a hell of a void waiting to take us all if you fuck up。 And if it es〃…the smile went from Monday's face…〃if it es there won't be any more spirits in the light； because there won't be any light。 Where's your familiar； by the way？〃
〃Who？〃
〃The mystif。〃
Gentle's breath quickened。
〃You lost it once； and I went looking for it。 I found it too； mourning its children。 Don't you remember？〃 ' 〃Who was this？〃 Clem asked。
〃You never met it；〃 Taylor said。 〃If you had； you'd remember。〃
〃I don't think Gentle does；〃 Clem said； looking at the Maestro's troubled face。
〃Oh； the mystifs in there somewhere；〃 Taylor said。 〃Once seen； never forgotten。 Go on； Gentle。 Name it for me。 It's on the tip of your tongue。〃
Gentle's expression became pained。
〃It's the love of your life； Gentle；〃 Taylor said； coaxing Gentle on。 〃Name it。 I dare you。 Name it。〃
Gentle frowned and mouthed silence。 But finally his throat gave up its hostage。 〃Pie 。。。〃 he murmured。
Taylor smiled through Monday's face。 〃Yes。。。 ？〃
〃Pie 'oh' pah。〃
〃What did I tell you？ Once seen； never forgotten。〃
Gentle said the name again and again； breathing it as though the syllables were an incantation。 Then he turned to Clem。
〃That lesson I never learned；〃 he said。 〃It came from Pie。〃
〃Where's the mystif now？〃 Taylor asked。 〃Do you have any idea？〃
Gentle went down on his haunches beside Tay's sleeping host。 〃Gone；〃 he said； closing his hands around the sunlight。
〃Don't do that；〃 Taylor said softly。 〃You only catch the dark that way。〃 Gentle opened his hand again and let the light lie on his palm。 〃You say the mystifs gone？〃 Tay went on。 〃