The Wolf Tree (39 page)

Hethy coughed and put a hand to her mouth to stifle it. “Sorry—” she began to say, but broke into another cough.

Ray looked from the girl back to the plains below. “They’re going to get away,” Ray said.

He held up his hand, feeling again the strange sensation of the Hoarhound’s presence.

Jolie asked, “What is it you sense?”

Before he could answer, Hethy’s coughing deepened. Jolie put her arms around her. “Are you all right?”

The girl doubled over, her eyes streaming with tears as the violent fit wracked her body.

“What’s wrong with her?” Ray asked.

“I do not know.”

Hethy collapsed in Jolie’s arms, and Ray sprang forward to help lower her to the ground. He crouched over her, trying to see her in the pale moonlight. “Hethy? Are you all right?”

The girl was lying on her back, beginning to choke from the brutal coughing. Her eyes rolled back and her lips were speckled with blood.

Even in the thin light, Ray saw it. Her blood was black. It was oil. He had trouble telling, but he was certain her skin was ashen gray.

Hethy gasped for air, the coughs suddenly stilled. Ray pulled the girl’s head to his lap, looking her in the face. “Hethy? Can you hear me, Hethy?”

The girl’s mouth opened and closed and then she uttered, “Granny Sip … Granny Sip …”

“What is she saying?” Jolie asked Ray.

Ray realized who she was calling out for. Granny Sip. The old woman hanged in Omphalosa as a witch. Gigi had said her granddaughter had escaped.

Ray looked at Jolie desperately. “This girl’s come from the Darkness! She’s dying.”

“No!” Jolie cried. “No, Hethy!” She began scrambling, looking around frantically. “The well’s water! Where is it?”

“What are you looking for?” Ray asked.

“I had skins of water. Healing water from Élodie’s Spring. I … I must have left them with—”

A rifle cocked, and Ray turned.

An agent stood over them, shadowed against the night sky. A sheen of moonlight glowed from his rifle barrel.

“I knew we’d catch you,” Sokal gloated. “Yeah, De Courcy said you were nearby. And I got you. Don’t move.”

Struggling in Ray’s lap, Hethy choked on the oil filling her lungs. Then her eyes rolled back and she grew limp.

Soft, eerie singing began. Ray had heard it before. Sokal’s eyes widened and darted to Jolie. He backed up a step, turning the rifle on her. But Jolie kept singing her wordless, dark music. Sokal stared, transfixed by Jolie’s spell.

Singing all the while, Jolie walked slowly toward him, her face a mask of hatred. She took the rifle from his hands and threw it aside. Then she reached a hand to her lower back. What was she doing? With slow movements, she took out her knife, never stopping her song.

“No,” Ray whispered, laying Hethy on the ground to stand.

Jolie ignored him, stepping closer.

Ray grabbed her arm. “Will he do whatever we say?”

Jolie nodded again, still singing.

“Can he speak?”

She nodded, and Ray turned to Sokal. “Where is Grevol taking the Machine?”

Sokal’s eyes flickered. “Chicago,” he muttered.

“What’s he going to do with his Machine?”

Sokal struggled, gritting his teeth as the words came out. “He’s … setting it up … at the Expo.”

“Why does Grevol want the rabbit’s foot?”

Sokal squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t … know.”

Then his eyes opened, and a smile struggled to his lips. “You’ll all … be killed. Mister Grevol, he knows … about the others….”

“What
others?” Ray shouted.

“Muggeridge said … Mister Grevol … sending men to …”

“To where!”

“Shuckstack—”

An arrow sank into Sokal’s chest with a heavy thud. Jolie stopped singing and turned. Stunned, Ray stared helplessly as another arrow struck Sokal just below the collarbone. He toppled backward.

“No!” Ray shouted, leaping for Sokal. He grasped the man’s sodden shirt, pulling at him desperately. “How does he know? How does he know about Shuckstack?”

Sokal opened his eyes. His lips parted, his teeth darkened with blood. The grim smile froze on his face as he died.

“No!” Ray cried over and over, shaking Sokal.

“Ray. Are you all right?”

Redfeather had his bow notched with another arrow. Marisol stood behind him, looking wide-eyed from the dead Bowler to Jolie to the girl lying on the ground.

“You killed him, Redfeather,” Ray said, his voice cracking.

“He’s a Bowler. I thought you were in trouble.”

“No.” Ray dropped his gaze. He felt dizzy. “Shuckstack. Grevol knows where Nel is.”

“What?” Marisol cried. “What about the children? We have to warn Nel!”

“How?” Ray asked, shaking his head and going back over to Hethy. He put his ear to her chest. He could hear the faint beat of her heart and the wet drawing of breath. She was still alive, but only barely. Ray lifted her in his arms.

Redfeather came forward. “Jolie … what are you doing here?”

Jolie looked at Redfeather and then at Marisol. “I came out with Conker.”

Ray spun around. “Conker! He’s alive?”

“I did not have time to tell you. That is where I have been. I found Conker, after the Gog’s train exploded. I took him to a siren well to heal him.”

Marisol stammered, “I—I can’t believe he survived. We thought … all this time we thought …”

“He was wearing your necklace, Redfeather,” Jolie said. “The copper. It saved his life. And listen! We found the Nine Pound Hammer in the Mississippi. The handle was broken. We came to get help from the rougarou and their Wolf Tree—”

“Those wolves … they’re the rougarou, aren’t they?” Redfeather gasped. He gazed around at the dark plains. “The … the Wolf Tree. It’s been found?”

“Yes,” Jolie said. “The rougarou have helped Conker restore the hammer.”

“Then Conker can destroy the Machine,” Redfeather
said. “We can stop it at last. I’m glad we found you again, Ray. You have Marisol to thank. She found your tracks, and we followed you.”

Marisol dropped her gaze. “Javidos found them. He’s the one to thank.”

“I think you’re becoming a Rambler,” Redfeather said.

Marisol smiled, her eyes falling briefly on Jolie and then turning to Ray. “What do we do now?”

Ray looked down where the last of the gunfire sounded from the retreating agents. The Hoarhound was following the steamcoach, but the rougarou were no longer pursuing. Ray turned, thinking of a plan.

“We have to act quickly,” Ray said. “The Bowlers will keep hunting for Sally, and she’s on foot. They will catch her with that steamcoach.”

“She is not on foot,” Jolie said. “She has a guardian. A rougarou. He is protecting her, and if she is riding on him, they will not be easy to catch.”

“With that Hoarhound, they might still catch her. We have to reach her first.”

Redfeather took Atsila’s reins and led her over. “There’s that Bowler’s horse over there. Can you ride it?”

Ray nodded.

“What about Hethy?” Jolie asked. “We must get her back to my waters. They will heal her.”

Ray put her in Redfeather’s arms. “Take her to Conker. Tell him to give her the siren water. I fear it’s too late, but there’s nothing else to do.”

“What do we do then?” Redfeather asked.

“Go with Conker. Go to Chicago. We’ll meet you there after we’ve found Sally.”

Marisol clutched Ray in an embrace and then hugged Jolie before climbing onto Atsila’s back.

Redfeather lifted Hethy up to Marisol and then nodded to Ray and Jolie as he climbed into the saddle in front of Marisol. “Be safe, my friends,” he called.

“You too,” Ray said.

They watched as Marisol and Redfeather rode out into the darkness.

25
EAST AND WEST

T
HE FAINT LIGHT OF PREDAWN HUNG OVER THE SKY
. Conker sat next to Si, wiping at her temple with a wet rag. Si stirred and opened her eyes.

She smiled painfully up at him. “You’re here? You’re really here?”

“You think it was a dream?”

“I wasn’t sure…. Most of what’s happened seemed a nightmare. My hand!”

She lifted her hand. It was wrapped thickly in bandages and throbbed so terribly that tears sprang to her eyes. “How … how is it?”

“It’s wounded. Awful bad, Si. But I gave you some waters from a siren well. They’ll heal you.”

Si winced sickly. “What about the—”

“I don’t know about the tattoo. All that matters is that you’re okay.”

Si pulled her hand against her stomach and rolled over on her side, crying softly. Conker ran his large hand softly over and over against her hair.

“Where’s Buck?” she whispered after a time.

“He took him.”

“The Hammer?”

“He took it also.”

She sat up, her eyes ferocious. “We’ll find Stacker Lee. We’ll save Buck and get the Hammer back too.”

Conker nodded. “Yes. We will.” He did not want to tell her yet about Stacker’s strange parting words. Si was tired. She needed to rest.

“Conker,” Si said.

“Yes.”

“I think I’ve done something terrible.”

“You need to rest, Si. Don’t trouble your—”

“Listen! I tried to tell you when Stacker had me. There was a prophecy. About me. This seer who knows Mother Salagi told me that I would come to a crossroads. I would have to make a choice. One way was doom. Not just for me or for you but for all mankind. And the other way, there was something good. She said the choice would require a great sacrifice.”

She cringed, but Conker could not tell if it was her hand or what she was about to say that pained her.

“When Stacker used me to get the Nine Pound Hammer.
That was my crossroads. I wasn’t supposed to let you give it to him. I was supposed to sacrifice myself, so you could have the Hammer.”

Conker put his hand to her cheek. “No, Si. That ain’t it.”

“It was, Conker! I’ve brought danger to us all.”

“But it weren’t your choice. It was mine. I gave Stacker the Nine Pound Hammer, not you.”

“But what about the prophecy?”

“I don’t give much thought to such matters. But if it’s true, that weren’t your crossroads. You ain’t got there. Not yet.”

Si looked at him for a long time, and something like acceptance came over her face. She took his hand and pulled it close to her as she closed her eyes.

Dawn was breaking when Conker saw the rougarou return. So few! Only seven survived, and three of them carried the bodies of men and women, rougarou returned to their true form—if only now in death.

Conker was glad to see Mangoron was still alive. The rougarou limped over to him.

“Who is the girl?”

“An old friend.”

“She is injured?”

“Yes. But she’s healing. I’m sorry for your losses, and sorry to tell you that Coer died.”

“How? I saw none of the men leave the battlefield.”

“It wasn’t them Bowlers.” Conker told him about Stacker Lee and how he took the Nine Pound Hammer.

“This is dire news,” Mangoron said when Conker had
finished. “The Great Tree depends on you as well as your father’s hammer. We—”

But there were growls from over at the rest of the pack. Conker stood, ready to fight if the agents had returned. But it was not Bowlers. It was a young man and woman—both seemed to be Indian—on a horse. Renamex, injured as she was, snarled and led the others to surround the two.

Si rose and grabbed Conker’s arm. “It’s Redfeather and Marisol.”

“They are friends!” Conker shouted as he ran toward the pack. “Do not harm them. Let them approach.”

Renamex ordered her pack back, her eyes cautiously following Conker and the two strangers.

“Conker,” Marisol said, dismounting the horse. She embraced him. “I could hardly believe Jolie when she said you were alive. And Si, you’re here too?”

Conker’s smile failed as he watched Redfeather slide off his horse with Hethy in his arms. “It can’t be,” Conker whispered. “The girl. Hethy. What happened?”

“She is dying from the Darkness. She might still be saved. Jolie said there were waters.”

“Bring her over here,” Conker said, running ahead of them to get the waterskins.

As Redfeather laid Hethy on the ground by the campfire, Conker cupped a hand beneath her head and poured a thin trickle into Hethy’s mouth. He tilted her head up, staring at the black blood caked to her lips.