The Wolf Tree (40 page)

Redfeather knelt over him. “A man came to Shuckstack, dying from this Darkness. Nel could do nothing to—”

Hethy’s lips closed and she swallowed.

“Give her more!” Si said.

Conker put the skin to Hethy’s lips and spilt a little more of the siren waters into her mouth. As she swallowed, she frowned and opened her eyes a fraction.

“Conker,” she whispered, giving a slight cough.

“You’re all right, girl,” he said. “You’re going to be all right.”

They huddled around Hethy, watching over her. Soon the ashen color began to fade from her skin, and as it did, Hethy’s wrenched face relaxed as she slept.

Conker looked up at Redfeather, who was staring at the rougarou. “Where is Jolie? Why didn’t she come back with you?”

“She left with Ray—” Redfeather began.

“Ray!” Conker gasped. “Where is he?”

“He and Jolie have left to find Sally.”

Conker scowled with confusion. “Sally? Ray’s sister?”

“She’s why Buck and I are out here,” Si said. “She ran away from Shuckstack with the rabbit’s foot and we were following her. Until Stacker captured us.”

“Well, she still has the rabbit’s foot, at least,” Marisol said. “But the Bowlers are pursuing her. Their Hoarhound is drawn to the foot.”

“They can’t …” Si frowned. “If the Bowlers get the rabbit’s foot, all is lost.”

“Why?” Conker asked.

“Mother Salagi discovered something about Li’l Bill.
It’s why your father did not defeat the Gog. You need not only the Nine Pound Hammer but a spike as well. A spike only Li’l Bill can make. If he doesn’t make it, the Machine can’t be destroyed. Sally needs the rabbit’s foot to save her father.”

“If they catch her before Ray does, then all will fail,” Conker said. “Catching Stacker and getting back the Hammer won’t matter then.”

Redfeather looked curiously at him. Before Conker could explain to him who Stacker was, Renamex approached.

“We are going to bury our dead.”

Redfeather came anxiously toward the black rougarou. “Has the Wolf Tree been found? We’ve been seeking it, but I cannot see it.”

Renamex studied Redfeather a moment. “Why have you sought the Great Tree?”

“Water Spider, of the Western Cherokee, sent us. He met you before—”

“Yes,” Renamex said, her canine mouth curling. “I remember Water Spider.”

“He sent us to find out why the Wolf Tree has been lost. Have you found it? Is the pathway to the next world open?”

“The Tree is dying. The Darkness must be stopped before we can discover what will heal it. But yes, the Great Tree has been found once more. Look, young one. Look behind you.”

Redfeather turned, leaning his head back as the glowing
tower took form before his eyes. Marisol stepped to his side and clutched his hand. “Water Spider,” Redfeather said. “He was right.”

Marisol nodded and whispered, “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes. It is.” Redfeather squeezed her hand.

With the morning sun warming the prairie, four holes were dug in the earth at the roots of the Wolf Tree. All but Conker gathered as the fallen rougarou were buried. He watched over Hethy. But Conker listened as Renamex and the pack sang in lonesome howling tones.

Hethy opened her eyes and looked up at him. “What they saying?” she asked.

“I don’t know the words,” he replied. “But I expect she’s blessing the dead.”

She shifted and tried to sit up, but Conker said, “Rest, girl.”

Hethy lay back. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“The rougarou will care for you. You have more healing to do, but I reckon whatever ill hold that Darkness had over you is passing.”

“Are you leaving?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

“Are you coming back?”

Conker saw Mangoron trotting toward them. “I don’t know. I don’t know what will happen to us. But you are safe here. Go on. Rest.”

She gave him a faint smile and closed her eyes again.

Mangoron lay down by Hethy. Conker nodded to him as he rose and left to join his friends.

After bidding their farewells, the other rougarou set out to bury the dead Bowlers on the battlefield, along with Stacker’s men, Hardy and Alston. Conker, Si, Redfeather, and Marisol began packing food and their meager supplies to depart.

“What are we going to do about Nel?” Redfeather asked Marisol.

“What about Nel?” Si asked.

“The Gog has not been killed. And he’s learned that Nel is at Shuckstack.”

“That’s the danger!” Si said, terror welling in her expression. “The seer warned that something was seeking him. Grevol! How can Nel alone ever protect the children against him?”

“Then let’s waste no more time,” Conker said. He put Jolie’s shell knife in his belt and threw the remaining waterskin from the siren well over his shoulder.

“There’s a town about forty or fifty miles to the east of here,” Si said. “Stacker kept his distance from it, but I remember seeing it. Redfeather, you and Marisol ride there as fast as you can. Find a telegraph office. Send a wire to Missus Maynard. She’ll get it delivered to Nel. Conker and I will meet you.”

Redfeather was already untying Atsila’s reins. He leaped to her back, and Marisol swung on behind him.

“We’ll see you there in a few days,” Redfeather called.

“Ride,” Conker said.

Redfeather cast one final glance back at the Wolf Tree. Then Atsila’s hooves kicked up loose clods of earth as she sped across the prairie.

Conker looked down at Si. She held her hand gingerly to her stomach, but her face showed no pain. She was so courageous, Conker thought. And they were together again. He did not know what the seer had meant about Si’s crossroads, but he hoped he would be with her when she reached them. He hoped never to leave her side again.

Si cocked an eyebrow. “I’d say we should ask one of the rougarou to carry us, but you’re far too big.”

Conker smiled. “I can walk fast. Can you keep up?”

“Have I ever not?” she asked. “You ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

“Let’s go.”

The sun blazed over the rustling prairie in a brilliant blue and cloudless sky. The middle of the enormous country—where the Wolf Tree stood dying—was nearly empty. But small bands of travelers, hunters and hunted, were radiating east and west.

Four began their journey eastward, following Stacker Lee toward the grim and dirty industrial city of Chicago. A city where a multitude was descending to see the spectacle and promise of a better future that was the Columbian Exposition.

Westward, on the back of Sokal’s horse, Ray and Jolie pursued Sally. The evergreen-crested Black Hills hung in the
distance, and beyond, hundreds and hundreds of miles still, rose the great Rocky Mountains. Between Ray and his sister, the steamcoach spat its tendril of black smoke and rattled over the land. In the back—battered but having lost none of its menace—was the Hoarhound.

And its hungry clockwork innards felt the draw of the rabbit’s foot.

J
OHN
C
LAUDE
B
EMIS
grew up in rural eastern North Carolina, where he loved reading the Jack tales and African American trickster stories, as well as fantasy and science fiction classics. A songwriter and musician in an Americana roots band, John found inspiration for the Clockwork Dark trilogy in old-time country and blues music and the Southern folklore at its heart.

Drawing on the legend of John Henry’s struggle against the steam drill, John began exploring how Southern folklore could be turned into epic fantasy. This passion grew into his first novel,
The Nine Pound Hammer
, a story set in a mythical nineteenth-century America full of hoodoo conjurers and cowboys, battling trains and steamboat pirates.

John is a former elementary school teacher and lives with his family in Hillsborough, North Carolina. Visit John’s Web site at
www.johnclaudebemis.com
.