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and disbelief. We hoisted her up, each slipping an arm around her. The Lady
began counting steps. I remember no other labor so damnably great. I do not
recall another time when I ran so much on will alone.
The shaking of the earth waxed rapidly into the shudder of passing horsemen,
then to a landslide's uproar, then to an earthquake. The ground around Father
Tree began to writhe and buckle. A gout of flame and dust blasted upward. The
tree tinkled a shriek. Blue lightning rioted in his hair. We pressed even
harder in our flight down and across the creek.
Something behind us began to scream.
Images in mind. That which was rising was in agony. Father Tree subjected it
to the torments of Hell. But it came on, determined to be free.
I no longer looked back. My terror was too great. I did not want to see what
an ancient Dominator looked like.
We made it. Gods. Somehow the Lady and I got Darling sufficiently far away for
Father Tree to regain his full otherworldly power.
The shriek rose rapidly in pitch and fury; I fell down grasping my ears. And
then it went away.
After a time the Lady said, "Croaker, go see if you can help the others. It's
safe. The tree won."
That quickly? Out of that much fury?
Getting my feet under me seemed an all-night job.
A blue nimbus still shimmered among Father Tree's branches. You could feel his
aggravation from two hundred yards. Its weight grew as I moved nearer.
The ground around the tree's feet hardly seemed disturbed, considering the
violence of moments ago. It looked freshly plowed and harrowed, was all. Some
of my friends were partially buried, but no one appeared injured. Everyone was
moving at least a little. Faces looked wholly stunned. Except Trucker's. That
ugly character had not resumed his fake human form.
He was up early, placidly helping the others, dusting their clothing with
hearty, friendly slaps. You would not have known that a short time before he
had been a deadly enemy. Weird.
Nobody needed any help. Except the walking trees and menhirs. The trees had
been overturned. The menhirs... Many of them were down, too. And unable to
right themselves.
That gave me a chill.
I got me another shudder when I neared the old tree.
Reaching out of the ground, fumbling at the bark of a root, was a human hand
and forearm, long, leathery, greenish, with nails grown to claws then broken
and bleeding upon Father Tree. It did not belong to anyone from the Hole.
It twitched feebly, now.. Blue sparks continued to crackle above.
Something about that hand stirred the old beast within me. I wanted to run
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away shrieking. Or seize an axe and mutilate it. I took neither course, for I
got the distinct feeling that Father Tree was watching me and glowering more
than a little, and maybe blaming me personal-like for wakening the thing to
which the hand belonged.
"I'm going," I said. "Know how you feel. Got my own old monster to keep down."
And I backed away, bowing some each three or four steps.
"What the hell was that?"
I whirled. One-Eye was staring at me. He had a
Croaker-is-up-to-another-of-his-crazies look.
"Just chatting with the tree." I looked around. People seemed to be finding
their sea legs. Some of the less flustered were starting to right the walking
trees. For the fallen menhirs, though, there seemed no hope. Those had gone to
whatever reward a sentient stone may expect. Later they would be discovered
righted, standing among the other dead menhirs near the creek ford.
I returned to Darling and the Lady. Darling was slow to come around, too
groggy to communicate yet. The Lady asked, "Everyone all right?"
"Except the guy in the ground. And he came close to making himself well." I
described the hand.
She nodded. "That's a mistake not likely to be made again soon."
Silent and several others had gathered around, so we could say little that
would not sound suspect. I did murmur, "What now?" In the background I heard
the Lieutenant and Elmo hollering about getting some torches out to shed a
little light.
She shrugged.
"What about the Taken?"
"You want to go after them?"
"Hell, no! But we can't have them running around loose in our backyard,
either. No telling..."
"The menhirs will watch them. Won't they?"
"That depends on how pissed the old tree is. Maybe he's ready to let us go to
hell in a bucket after this."
"You might find out."
"I'll go," Goblin queaked. He wanted an excuse to put a lot of yards between
him and the tree.
"Don't take all night," I said. "Why don't the rest of you help Elmo and the
Lieutenant?"
That got rid of some folks, but not Silent.
There was no way I was going to get Silent out of sight of Darling. He had
some reservations still.
I chaffed Darling's wrists and did other silly things when time was the only
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cure. After some minutes I mumbled, "Seventy-eight days."
And the Lady, "Before long it will be too late."
I lifted an eyebrow.
"He can't be beaten without her. It won't be long before the hardest ride
won't get her there in time."
I do not know what Silent made of that exchange. I do know that the Lady
looked up at him and smiled thinly, with that look she gets when she knows [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]