18 The Moon
Another dark night. The Star is still there from the previous card, but has faded into the background to allow a full Moon to take centre stage in the night sky. The dominant scene at ground level is a water's edge, a river, a lake, maybe even a sea.
Two crustacean creatures, generally portrayed as lobsters or crayfish, have come to the surface, drawn by the intense moonlight, and are pulling themselves out of the shadows and onto the land. There may be a thick wood on the land side: in front of this, a wolf sits, howling up at the Moon.
This is the card of the dreaming world and the subconscious mind. Just as the human brain consists of overlapping layers of tissue likened to the vegetable mind, the animal mind and the thinking, rational, human mind in uneasy dominance at the top, here we see only the lower brains. Crayfish are not even reptilian: they lack vertebrae and class as a lower order of life, representing the lowest soul and lowest urges. They are also amphibian and hearken back to the time when water-based life sought to colonise the land. Water is a potent symbol of the subconscious; and the moon dictates the tides. The crayfish are the dream- messengers, handing thoughts from the deepest subconscious up the levels to the thinking brain. The wolf represents a higher level of the brain, but is still animal: it sees the moon, but cannot smell or taste it. And of course a higher class of wolf is even more affected by a full moon…
The long sad howl echoed across Mort Lake, possibly audible everywhere between Nap Hill and the Patrician's Palace. Sally von Humpeding, philosophically aware tonight's patrol wasn't going to get very far at all, sat on the lake-side bench and waited. In the Watch, you had to accept your patrol partner's little eccentricities and, er cultural needs, or you might just as well not bother buddying up.
Another howl arose. From here on the Runecaster Way and Caroc Alley side of the Lake, Sally could dimly make out the shapes of the very upmarket mansions lining the Ankhian bank of the River, both their fronts and backs open to the water. The Selachiis lived there, she knew, and the Rusts and Eorles; other buildings housed the Quirmian Embassy and the Genuan Embassy. Well, tonight, they're all getting zer beautiful music of zer children of zer night. Even if it is a solo performance.
As if on cue, city dogs started to join in. Sally grinned. It must be something primal, something deep-down canine. She patted the pile of clothing and armour she was guarding. Eventually a pale figure came padding over, shaking out her blonde hair.
"Thanks, Sally." Angua said, as she began to dress. "Some things, you just can't fight."
"A pleasure." said Sally, as more dogs took up the primal song. On past form it took an hour to die down, and every dog in the City, from Harry King's Lipzwigers down to the feral mutts who cautiously roamed the Shades and docks, would pick it up. A reminder to the merely human population that the city was not, and never had been, entirely all their own. As another creature of the night, Sally approved of this and felt a little reminder now and again did no harm.
As the two policewomen proceeded away, a couple of crayfish cautiously broke surface in the lake. They were the somewhat more intelligent descendants of river crayfish, caught here when the lake separated from a loop of the river thousands of years previously. They had heard about fishermen and gumbo, and wanted no part of it..
"I don't know" one burbled to another. "Just when you want a decent night's kip, somebody forgets to turn the lights out, and then you get all these sodding dogs howling. No consideration, some people!"