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Tristran's journey changes course...
Mar. 31st, 2006 03:15 pmPre-Milliways Bar, this excerpt is taken straight from the book.
"Can I get there by candlelight? There and back again. Only it's the candle-wax, you see. Most candles won't do it. This one took a lot of findin'." And he pulled out a candle-stub the size of a crabapple and handed it to Tristran.
Tristran could see nothing in any way out of the ordinary about the candle-stub. It was a wax candle, not tallow, and it was much used and melted. The wick was charred and black.
"What do I do with it?" he asked.
"All in good time," said the little hairy man, and took something else from his pack. "Take this too. You'll need it."
It glittered in the moonlight. Tristran took it; the little man's gift seemed to be a thin silver chain, with a loop at each end. It was cold and slippery to the touch. "What is it?"
"The usual. Cat's breath and fish-scales and moonlight on a mill-pond, melted and smithied and forged by the dwarfs. You'll be needin' it to bring your star back with you."
"I will?"
"Oh, yes."
Tristran let the chain fall into his palm: it felt like quicksilver. "Where do I keep it? I have no pockets in these confounded clothes."
"Wrap it around your wrist until you need it. Like that. There you go. But you've a pocket in your tunic, under there, see?"
Tristran found the concealed pocket. Above it there was a small buttonhole, and in the bttonhole he placed the snowdrop, the glass flower that his father had given him as a luck token when he had left Wall. He wondered whether it was in fact bringing him luck, and if it were, was it good luck or bad?
Tristran stood up. He held his leather bag tightly in his hand.
"Now then," said the little hairy man. "This is what you got to do. Take up the candle in your right hand; I'll light it for you. And then, walk to your star. You'll use the chain to bring it back here. There's not much wick left on the candle, so you'd best be snappy about it, and step lively--any dawdlin' and you'll regret it. Feet be nimble and light, yes?"
"I...I suppose so, yes," said Tristran.
He stood expectantly. The little hairy man passed a hand over the candle, which lit with a flame yellow above and blue below. There was a gust of wind, but the flame did not flicker even the slightest bit.
Tristran took the candle in his hand, and he began to walk forward. The candlelight illuminated the world: every tree and bush and blade of grass.
With Tristran's next step he was standing beside a lake, and the candlelight shone brightly on the water; and then he was walking through the mountains, through lonely crags...
[Gaiman, Neil. Stardust. NY: Avon Books. 1999. pp 133-135]
...bounding straight for a door he hadn't expected to find. He was sure the star was in this direction. He knew, somehow, where everything was in Faerie. Could he have gotten this wrong? The candle in his hand was beginning to pucker out. If he didn't move--if he didn't avoid the door, the flame would go out completely.
And then it did.
The little chunk of wax lay warm in his hand, but no longer active. It didn't matter. Maybe he'd gotten his direction wrong. Maybe the star was beyond the door.
Confident in his new theory, Tristran turned the knob with his free hand and blinked, surprised to find a space unlike anything he'd ever seen before.
"Can I get there by candlelight? There and back again. Only it's the candle-wax, you see. Most candles won't do it. This one took a lot of findin'." And he pulled out a candle-stub the size of a crabapple and handed it to Tristran.
Tristran could see nothing in any way out of the ordinary about the candle-stub. It was a wax candle, not tallow, and it was much used and melted. The wick was charred and black.
"What do I do with it?" he asked.
"All in good time," said the little hairy man, and took something else from his pack. "Take this too. You'll need it."
It glittered in the moonlight. Tristran took it; the little man's gift seemed to be a thin silver chain, with a loop at each end. It was cold and slippery to the touch. "What is it?"
"The usual. Cat's breath and fish-scales and moonlight on a mill-pond, melted and smithied and forged by the dwarfs. You'll be needin' it to bring your star back with you."
"I will?"
"Oh, yes."
Tristran let the chain fall into his palm: it felt like quicksilver. "Where do I keep it? I have no pockets in these confounded clothes."
"Wrap it around your wrist until you need it. Like that. There you go. But you've a pocket in your tunic, under there, see?"
Tristran found the concealed pocket. Above it there was a small buttonhole, and in the bttonhole he placed the snowdrop, the glass flower that his father had given him as a luck token when he had left Wall. He wondered whether it was in fact bringing him luck, and if it were, was it good luck or bad?
Tristran stood up. He held his leather bag tightly in his hand.
"Now then," said the little hairy man. "This is what you got to do. Take up the candle in your right hand; I'll light it for you. And then, walk to your star. You'll use the chain to bring it back here. There's not much wick left on the candle, so you'd best be snappy about it, and step lively--any dawdlin' and you'll regret it. Feet be nimble and light, yes?"
"I...I suppose so, yes," said Tristran.
He stood expectantly. The little hairy man passed a hand over the candle, which lit with a flame yellow above and blue below. There was a gust of wind, but the flame did not flicker even the slightest bit.
Tristran took the candle in his hand, and he began to walk forward. The candlelight illuminated the world: every tree and bush and blade of grass.
With Tristran's next step he was standing beside a lake, and the candlelight shone brightly on the water; and then he was walking through the mountains, through lonely crags...
[Gaiman, Neil. Stardust. NY: Avon Books. 1999. pp 133-135]
...bounding straight for a door he hadn't expected to find. He was sure the star was in this direction. He knew, somehow, where everything was in Faerie. Could he have gotten this wrong? The candle in his hand was beginning to pucker out. If he didn't move--if he didn't avoid the door, the flame would go out completely.
And then it did.
The little chunk of wax lay warm in his hand, but no longer active. It didn't matter. Maybe he'd gotten his direction wrong. Maybe the star was beyond the door.
Confident in his new theory, Tristran turned the knob with his free hand and blinked, surprised to find a space unlike anything he'd ever seen before.
