The air in
front of my desk began to waver gently. Only one thing could make that happen –
some kind of sorcery. I held myself in readiness. Wrapped the arrowhead back
up, although I held onto it.
Cass,
alarmed, got up and went back several paces. Her right hand dropped to one of
her Glocks. But the fact was, we could only stand there, waiting to see what
was going to happen. And we’d both been in that
impasse before.
The wavering
grew heavier, like ripples on a pond. It didn’t spread throughout the room,
however. It was confined to a single area in front of me. A vaguely rectangular
patch of air, its edges uneven but some five foot wide and rising eight feet
off the floor. And that shape suggested …
Well, a
doorway of some kind.
A drop of
perspiration trickled down my brow. This was
magic, I was certain. But a kind I’d never seen before.
A glance at
Cassie told me she was equally dumbfounded. The bridge of her nose got all
creased when she was like that, as if she was annoyed.
“Hey!” she
blurted. “What is this?”
The rippling
began to slow. As it diminished, something else began to take its place. Merely
a vague outline, at first. Then it quickly coalesced into a solid shape.
The air
became completely flat and still again. But not empty.
Something was
now standing in my office.
It stood several inches taller
than I did and was considerably broader.
But, despite
the fact that it had all the usual requirements – two arms, two legs, a head –
it wasn’t even remotely human. So maybe this was the ‘something’ that Raine had
warned me of.
Its shoulders
were as wide as one side of my desk. It was superbly muscled, with a great
barrel chest. At first, I thought it might have fur. But then I saw that that
was a mistake. It was smooth. An even, pale gray hue all over, a murky color
that seemed a little indistinct, like the creature was made partly out of dust.
That was not the case, though. It was definitely solid. Its weight was making
the worn parquet floor creak underneath it slightly. And I could smell its
rank, meaty breath from here.
Its legs were
bowed slightly, the feet massive. And its arms were unnaturally long. It had
hands rather than paws – as large as catcher’s mitts – but there were no nails
at the ends of the fingers. There appeared to be something unusual about the
tips of them, although I couldn’t tell quite what.
It growled, a
noise like rocks coming apart. My gaze went to its face. It was densely ridged
and oval. There seemed to be something rather lupine about it. A suggestion of
sharpness to the muzzle. A savagery to
the heavy brow. Its ears were long, went to sharp tips, and were pressed back
flat against its skull. Its eyes shone an iridescent green, and studied us both
threateningly.
But it was
its mouth that was the worst thing, for the moment anyhow. Curving fangs
protruded across the lips, distorting them. The beast was drooling gently, and
it grunted as it breathed.
What was this? I took a step backward,
becoming aware of something else. It had materialized between ourselves and the
only doorway out of here.
I tried to
edge round it a little. Cassie, very gingerly, did the same It responded by
lifting those great hands of its a little higher. And, where I‘d noticed
something odd about the fingertips …
Retractable
claws – about six inches long and sharp-looking as scalpels – all came snicking
out.
It snarled again, hunched
forward, and its mouth gaped open. There were several rows of fangs in there. I
realized, in the dull shock of that moment, that at least we now knew what had
been in Garnerstown last night.
I had a brief
thought. Who created this?
And then my
hand was reaching for the Smith & Wesson in my coat.
Cass, as
usual, beat me to it. Her gaze became cold, her features set like stone. And
one of her Glocks came snaking up.
Her first
round, fired almost at point-blank range, hit the creature, making it snarl
again, but then bounced off it. It left a small, dull mark against the thing’s
gray hide, but that was all. I heard her curse.
But Ms.
Mallory doesn’t ever give up on the first attempt. She simply drew her other
handgun, started emptying both clips into the beast.
The creature
stumbled back under the onslaught, but then started to fight against it,
rapidly recovering.
I had my
revolver out, was firing as well. But to an equal lack of real effect. The
thing just took our heat, wincing with discomfort. And kept on pressing
forward, trying to snatch the guns from both our hands. Its claws made a
whistling noise, splitting the very air. We
were the ones going back by this time, and I didn’t like that. You can’t fight
properly if you have to keep retreating.
It couldn’t
disarm both of us if we separated. So I stepped sideways, behind my desk. Gun
smoke had already filled the room, my eyes were stinging gently. I was shaking
slightly, wondering how to beat this thing.
The creature
paused a moment, trying to decide which of us to follow. Its head went even
lower and its green eyes blinked. And then its shining gaze pinioned me. I’m
not quite sure why. Cassie was the greater threat. But perhaps it had noticed
that I still had the arrowhead in my left hand.
The beast
suddenly lurched forward, ramming so hard into my desk it overturned it. My
chair flipped over savagely, forcing me to jump back. I dodged across to one
side, tried to fire again.
The hammer
came down on an empty chamber. And the creature was stepping up onto my
capsized desk by this time. I glanced desperately at Cass.
One of her slim eyebrows arched. She tossed me
her second Glock. She uses the extended clips, so she had plenty of shots to
spare. The creature swiped at me with its long talons, missing me by barely an
inch. I put three rounds straight into the center of its chest. It staggered
back again and let out something that I reckon might have been a moan. But then
it just recovered, like the last time.
I could see
there was no stopping it this way. We might as well be taking potshots at the
side of a barn door. There was another handgun in the top drawer of my desk, a
Magnum. Except my desk was lying on its side. And the creature had climbed on
top of it once more.
I snatched up
my fallen chair and hurled it at it, acting out of desperation. One of those
huge arms simply batted it away.
Cass, though,
had a clear run at the door by this time. I’d at least succeeded in drawing it
away from her. She took the chance that she’d been given, yelling back over her
shoulder, “I’ll be as quick as I can! Just hold it off!”
Thanks. I’d already figured that one
out. I tried shooting at the creature’s temples. That got me a slightly better
result. It pawed at them and stopped for a few seconds. But it wasn’t backing
off from me, now. Not even a little bit.
I could hear
Cass’ boots hammering down the stairwell, and I knew where she was headed. I
just wasn’t sure what kind of condition I would be in by the time that she got
back.
Perhaps it
wanted the arrowhead. But that was the only solid lead we had. I wasn’t about
to give it up. I dropped it into one of my pockets, freeing up both of my
hands.
I put another slug into the creature’s face.
Hit the corner of its mouth this time. It groaned again. Spat out a few flecks
of darker gray liquid that I guessed was blood. But I’d already noticed
something else. Those faint marks we’d managed to graze its hide with were
already fading. This beast was not only hard to damage. When you did hurt it, it healed up quickly.
I barely
pulled my head away as its claws went singing past my face.
I was backing
off again, moving crabwise. Being forced into a corner. The chair I’d thrown
was lying nearby, so I snatched that up as well.
By this
stage, the creature wasn’t even flinching when the 9mms struck it. It seemed to
have grown used to them. Determination shone in those peculiar, glittering
eyes.
A click.
The Glock was
empty. I dropped it, then held the chair out at full stretch in front of me.
Where the hell was Cass?
The talons
came whizzing downward. The chair fell to pieces like balsawood. A second set
of claws came swiping at me but I ducked underneath the blow, dropping to the
floor, rolling away. Then I lunged for my desk and scrabbled round behind it.
Tried to yank
it upright, which was not an easy job. It was big, and built of stout New
England oak. Difficult for just one man. But I kept on heaving, managing to get
its top edge a few inches off the ground. The drawers slid partly open. I could
hear the Magnum rattling around.
The creature
– out of pique, perhaps – kicked the far end of it, sending it slamming into
me. I found myself skidding across the floor, till I finally wound up against
the far wall. I was bruised and dazed, but squinted back in the direction that
I’d come.
The creature
wasn’t climbing over the desk, this
time. It was wading right through it with those massive hind legs, trampling it
to get at me. It made huffing noises as it progressed, spittle flying through
the air, like it was filled with pressured steam and it was going to explode.
I thought of
the arrowhead again. When I reached inside my pocket, though … it wasn’t there.
I tried the right one, with no better result. Maybe it had fallen out. I stared
across the floor.
Too late. The
beast was above me, like a storm cloud that had gathered. One of its hands was
coming down again. I scrabbled to get out of its way.
Air rushed
across my neck. I felt a tug, the back of my coat being torn. But otherwise, I
got away unscathed. Except for how much longer?
In the ruin
that had been my desk, I could see my other handgun, glinting dully in the
wreckage. Still on my hands and knees, I went toward it breathlessly. And was
just about to grab it when a vicious pain ran through my leg.
The creature
had simply turned around, stepped forward. And – as casually as stepping on a
bug – had planted a foot on my lower calf.
The muscles
flared with pain. My leg was pinned in place like it had been nailed to the
floor. Although the creature wasn’t trying to crush it, merely stopping me from
going anywhere. When I tried to wriggle loose, it increased the pressure
slightly. When I reached out for the gun, it did the same.
I took the
discomfort, stretching out my arm until the fingertips were shaking. They got
almost to within an inch of the Magnum, but no closer than that.
I twisted
around to see what was happening.
Its right arm
had come up once more. Its talons caught the light. This time, it wasn’t going
to miss.
The claws
were sweeping down next instant. I was raising both my arms to shield my face,
as if that would make the slightest difference.
When a loud
explosion made the entire office rock.
The gray creature was almost
lifted off its feet. It went back practically two yards, slamming against a
cabinet and then nearly losing its balance altogether. So it could be injured. Its jaws split open as
wide as they could, and it let out a shriek that nearly burst my eardrums.
Breathing
hard, I hauled myself half upright and then glanced toward the doorway. Cass
was standing in it, triumph dancing in her gaze, the Mossberg smoking in her
grasp. She didn’t load the thing with ordinary cartridges, either. She used BRI
‘saboted’ slugs, capable of blowing holes right through a concrete wall. And
from the range that she had fired …
I looked back
at the creature she had hit.
The round had
penetrated slightly, leaving a dent in its stomach from which dark gray was
leaking. A bruise the color of lead was becoming apparent round it. That looked
more permanent than the other marks. I didn’t think that it would heal real
soon.
But the thing
wasn’t anywhere near dead. Obviously stunned and in genuine pain. It remained to be proven, though, if we could
finish it for good.
Cass seemed
eager to try. Her eyes narrowed and she bit her lower lip. She worked the pump,
then stepped in closer, aiming for the head at nearly point-blank range.
The creature
looked up, understood what she was doing. Its contorted features grew alarmed.
I expected it to try and move away. Instead of which …
The air
around it started rippling again, much faster than before.
And between
one moment and the next, it had completely disappeared.
A long and breathless pause, as
we stared at the empty space it had left, was finally broken by an aggravated “Damn!” from Cassie. She looked furious.
Not that I
didn’t sympathize. But – for my own part – I was just pleased the thing was
gone. It wasn’t her leg that had gotten stamped on, after all.
I doubled
over and massaged my calf. Cass, still holding the shotgun, came and stood
beside me, panting gently.
“You okay?”
she asked.
“There’s
probably nothing broken. That’s the up side. It still hurts.”
“Sorry about
leaving you like that.”
She’d
forgotten her annoyance. Her face was apologetic.
“No – you did
the right thing. Thanks.”
I stared
rather numbly at the wreckage strewn around my office.
“Ever see anything like that before?” I asked.
“I’m sure I’d
remember.”
“Yuh.”
But I started
to wonder. I hadn’t even told Cass about my conversation at the Manor yet, but
… if this was the ‘visitor’ Raine had talked about?
There was
something missing. Whatever that creature had been, it seemed merely an animal
and nothing more, with no guiding intelligence. Why would it leave an arrowhead
for us to find? It didn’t even answer Tommy Wilkes’ description.
And if it was doing someone else’s bidding, then
what kind of lunatic would conjure up a sheer monstrosity like that?
Cassie
murmured ‘damn’ again. Walked across to where the beast had last been, then
stooped down and picked something up. Displayed it to me in her open palm. It
was the saboted slug she’d fired, flattened to a pancake. It had caused some
damage, certainly. But had not even penetrated fully. All the victory had
melted from her eyes by this time, and they glimmered with a quiet dismay.
This was
definitely something quite out of the ordinary we were facing.
I edged
across and finally picked up my Magnum. Then I stood up properly, carefully
distributing my weight. My leg was aching badly. That would be the case for
quite a while. But at least I was mobile.
I went to
drop the gun in my pocket, but then patted at the fabric in advance and
realized it was still empty. So, finally tucking the Magnum away, I began to
turn in a wide circle, casting my gaze across the floor again.
“What are you
looking for?” Cass asked me, a trace of suspicion in her voice.
“That
arrowhead you found. I think I dropped it.”
So she
started hunting too.
She went off
toward the window. Except, reaching it, she stopped.
“Er, Ross?”
Her tone was
rather urgent, and my head came up. She was peering out numbly through the
slightly smeary glass.
“You’d better
take a look at this.”
Cass’s voice,
uncommonly for her, had become reduced to a dull, low whisper.
I’d come to know her well enough
that, simply by the way that she was standing and the angle of her head, I
realized she could see more trouble brewing. An entirely different kind of
trouble, perhaps – she didn’t raise her gun. It wasn’t the obvious kind, then.
She kept
entirely still. So when I wandered up beside her, it was very cautiously.
I peered down
onto Union Square. The shadow of the statue had expanded out across the wide
flagstones. The doors of the municipal buildings were coming open and a couple
of cars were trundling by. There were a few pedestrians abroad by this hour of
the morning, on their way to work. They were mostly on the far side of the
square, and glancing nervously across and walking quickly. If the first shots
hadn’t quite been audible, then they had certainly heard the final one.
Otherwise, it
was wholly as it had been, with the banners flapping in the breeze. Except a
pair of jet black crows, big ones, were perching on the statue. They had not
been there before.
And the
ragged old man was back, and staring up at us. He might have been smiling – it
was hard to tell with all that beard. His dog was at his heel, awake. And his
placard was no longer there, as if he’d changed his mind about the world’s
demise.
He did have
something to replace it, however. Something which, although much smaller,
conveyed a whole new message.
He was
twiddling it between the long, narrow fingers of his bare, outstretched right
hand.
The arrowhead
we’d been searching for a few seconds earlier.
He kept on fiddling with the
piece of flint. I had no idea what it might signify. His gaze on us was steady
and unflinching. There was something obtrusive about it, too, that made my
hackles rise immediately. I have these instincts, sometimes. And I had
them about him in spades, so much that I wondered why he hadn’t bothered me
before. Perhaps he’d wanted it what way.
“Any idea at
all who he might be?” I asked Cass.
“No.” The
bridge of her nose wrinkled up again. “But if he’s the cause of all of this,
then he has to be a major adept. And a self-taught one at that.”
I guessed so.
“And we know
who all the adepts are,” she pointed out.
“Or so we
thought.”
I told her
quickly – summing it all up – about my meeting on the Hill last night. Cass
never usually gives the likes of Woodard Raine much credence. But on this
occasion, even she looked shocked.
Below us, the
arrowhead kept glinting dully in the morning’s growing light. The old man
hadn’t budged an inch. He was waiting for us to come to him. And I wasn’t sure
if that was such a good idea.
Although, to
tell the truth, I couldn’t see too many other options. So I quickly decided
what we’d do.
“Stay here,”
I told Cass.
Her face
swung toward me.
“Won’t you
need someone to watch your back?”
“You can
watch it better from up here. You’ll have a clearer shot.”
I trusted her
implicitly on that score. And she nodded.
When it
became obvious that I was coming down to talk, the old man nodded too. And, oh
yes, he was definitely smiling now.
‘Something,’ Woodard Raine had
said. But this guy looked human. My stomach kept on flipping over as I went
back down the stairs. There was nobody else in the stairwell or the lobby of
the building. I was glad of that.
As I’ve said,
the best way I’d ever found to confront powerful magicians was to not be overly
impressed by them. Act normally. So I kept my tone light as I went out into the
square through the front door.
“Hey, that
was a neat trick. With the arrowhead, I mean,” I called to him. “What exactly
is that thing?”
The old
geezer remained in place. The sharp flint kept on being twirled between his
fingers.
“A Mohawk
chieftain, a great warrior in his day, shot me through the heart with it once,
just before I ripped his insides out.”
Which sent
another shock through me, although I tried not to show it.
His voice
came as a dry, cool whisper from his wizened lips. There was something hoarse
and very old about it. And an underlying gravelly quality as well.
I stopped
dead, about three yards away from him. And felt my eyebrows rise.
“Excuse me?”
“After word
of that had spread,” he continued, barely noticing I’d spoken, “the Iroquois
Nation never raised a weapon against me. Never once. Never again. A lesson that
you newcomers, even after several centuries, have yet to learn.”
His gaze shot
upward momentarily. I didn’t dare look back, but I knew that Cass was at the
window with the shotgun at her shoulder. I could almost feel her, watching us.
This guy had noticed her as well. But his attention dropped back to me, next
instant. He was choosing to ignore her.
I stared at
him more closely, taking in his height and beanpole narrowness all over again.
His shaggy hair and beard. His wide, floppy hat was a mud brown color. And his
tattered coat the same, buttoned the whole way up to his neck, tied around the
middle with a length of rope. His pants, frayed at the cuffs, had once been
charcoal gray, but were a variety of neutral shades by this time. He had on
heavy black boots, densely scuffed, the laces broken and re-knotted maybe half
a dozen times.
His skin
seemed faintly grimy. I had already taken note of how extremely straight his
posture was. But he looked somewhere in his mid-seventies. Should a man so old
stand quite like that?
His face
looked hawkish and imperious under all that silver fuzz. There seemed nothing
special about it. Except …
There
appeared to be something odd about his mouth. About his teeth. I couldn’t quite
be certain. And his eyes, partway hidden in the shadow of his hat. They were
very pale, and it was hard to tell which color. But one detail about them
captured my attention. The left pupil seemed to be twice the size of the right.
It winked at me like a camera lens. There might have been a faint, strange
brilliance, a tiny fiery glow within it. I just wasn’t sure.
The crows
behind him, cawing loudly, flapped up from the statue suddenly. They circled
and then vanished. When I looked back at the old man, though …
They seemed
to have left some of their dark color behind, when they’d departed. He had
borrowed it, perhaps. Shadow hung around him far more heavily, by now. As
though he’d stepped into this place out of the darkness of the previous
evening, bringing some of it along with him.
He peered
back at me, waiting for me to say something more. What he’d said made no sense at all. Mohawks? I kept on trying to hide
how unnerved I was feeling.
An idea
occurred to me. I glanced at the flint again.
“You didn’t
drop that accidentally last night, did you?” I asked.
There was a
calculating look deep in his eyes, and I had noticed that as well. This was
someone who did nothing just by accident.
He pressed
his lips together.
“You were announcing yourself, like a calling
card.”
“Very good,” he said.
And then he did something that genuinely startled
me. He stopped twirling the arrowhead, held it up to his lips. Then put it in
his mouth and swallowed it.
I could see the bulge as it slid down his
throat. Remembered how sharp its edges had been. But he didn’t seem in the
tiniest bit discomforted. His eyes were laughing at me as the shape dropped
lower, disappeared.
And when his mouth had opened … had his teeth
been filed down to sharp points, or were they naturally like that?
I could hear
Cass push the window open wider, obviously alarmed as well. But I raised a hand
quickly, before she could do anything else about it.
My breath was
hissing in my lungs. What exactly was I stood in front of? The few pedestrians
around us, I could see, were giving us a wide berth, glancing at us oddly. Even
they had noticed there was something wrong.
“Why did you
do that?” I asked.
“Just putting
it back where it belongs, Ross.”
And how did
he know my name?
“Have we met?”
“Not exactly,
Mr. Devries. But you know what I am called.”
My head
reeled slightly. What was he talking about, if this was the first time we’d
come face-to-face?
“You’ve seen
it,” he added.
“Where?”
His brow
creased a touch.
“Oh, Mr.
Devries! I’d assumed you were the observant type, more than capable of putting
two and two together.”
But I was
already observing more than he had recognized. My own gaze had, a few times,
flickered down to his old dog. It was pale, with diseased-looking brown patches
on its hide. Its eyes were a gently glinting green. And its big belly was
hanging on the flagstones … but was that a large, deep bruise I could make out?
A deep gray color, just like …
It looked
back at me balefully, its snaggled jaws mashing together, and let out a
snarling noise that sounded a touch familiar. A chill ran through me, and my
pulse worked a little faster. But, not sure what was going on as yet, I simply
stood my ground.
The only
thing I really knew about this guy was that he owned that arrowhead. And
scratched on it there’d been some lettering. So …
“Saruak?” I
tried.
“Bingo!” It
came almost as an abrupt laugh. “I knew you could do it!”
Then he
peered at me expectantly, like I ought to welcome him to town.
My feet were
trying to move away all by themselves, but I wouldn’t let them. It felt like a
caterpillar was crawling up my spine. I hated even standing near to this guy,
he let off such a hateful aura. It was a struggle just to keep on sounding
calm.
“And where
are you from?” I asked.
“Around these
parts, originally. After that? Nowhere in particular. I travel a lot, you see.”
“What do you
do, exactly? And what brings you here?”
“As to the
first, the Iroquois tribes used to call me ‘Manitou.’”
I knew what
that meant. ’Evil spirit.’ That’s crazy,
was my first thought. Such a thing could just not be. But when you considered
where we lived …
His features
stiffened, as though he’d heard that.
“The
Penobscots, who knew me first, had another name for me. Quite hard to
translate. But roughly, ‘The Dancer in Dreams.’ As for your second question …
well, it seems a pleasant place, this town. I thought I’d hang around awhile.”
Which was not
how people usually reacted to Raine’s Landing, and I told him that.
Laughter
flickered in his eyes. “I understand that. Yes, I know.”
I studied him
all over again. He remained passively still under my gaze, his face blank, like
he had absolutely nothing that he wished to hide. How much did he know about this place?
“Did you kill
all those people last night?” I asked him outright.
His
expression didn’t even twitch.
“Is this how
you treat newcomers? You’re being very rude.”
“You’re
saying you didn’t?”
Saruak
shrugged. “It hardly matters, either way.”
I thought of
all those butchered people, their dead faces staring. And it was of no
consequence to him? When I tried to speak again, it felt like a fishhook was
embedded in my throat.
“Because?”
“I’ve seen so
much death, down the centuries. A human life, passing? Is like a drop of rain
hitting the soil. A perfectly common occurrence. One that happens several
hundred times a minute. And so, barely worth commenting upon.”
Which didn’t
sound like any philosophy I wanted to subscribe to. But how old, precisely, was
this Saruak claiming to be?
My gaze
dropped back to his ugly dog.
“My guess? It wasn’t you personally doing the
killing last night, was it?”
Once more, his face split with delight.
“Spot on again, Mr. Devries! I knew that you were one of the sharper
tools in this particular box! Meet Dralleg.”
And he reached down, patted the beast’s head.
It blinked at me, its eyes seeming to glow a little brighter.
“Strange name
for a dog.” I commented.
“Strange
dog,” he grinned. “But I’m wasting my breath. You’ve already guessed that.”
It couldn’t
do what it had done in that form. But another native concept came to mind –
shape-shifter. I wondered how safe I was, standing here. Any moment, it might
change back into that creature in my office.
But all it
did was sit there like a miniature blimp with half the air let out. My lip
curled.
“Where did
you find something like that?”
“I didn’t. I
thought him up. Dralleg is a product of my
mind.”
“That’s some imagination that you have.”
“I’ll take
that as a compliment.”
I was getting
angry with his flippant manner. “Why did you kill all those people?”
“You’ve
already asked.”
Which was no
answer. So I stared at him.
“To prove a
point,” he told me.
“Being?”
“I’m the new
boss around here, or soon will be. Forget your Sycamore Hill, your adepts and
your mayor. And Woodard Raine.”
I’d heard
that kind of speech before. It got me wondering not only how much he knew, but
how on earth he had discovered it.
There was a
deeply mocking gleam back in his eyes. When his voice came oozing out once
more, it sounded exactly like Woody’s.
“’Whatever’s
come to visit us, it’s all het-up and hungry. I’d get a move on, sport, if I
were you’.”
I jolted.
“Ross?” Cass yelled, behind me.
I sucked in a
breath, then quickly looked around. She was leaning right out of the window,
with her shotgun trained on the old man. I shook my head, indicating that I was
all right. Then peered back at Saruak, dumbfounded.
He had
somehow been listening the entire time, last night. And Woodard Raine, for all
his powers, hadn’t even known. That spoke volumes by itself. What was this guy
capable of? And we had always thought, here in the Landing, that there was no
magic greater than our own.
My hand went
to the Magnum in my pocket, out of reflex. But the man didn’t seem in the
tiniest bit bothered.
“Look,
there’s nothing for you here,” I told him.
But he shook
his head. “I disagree.”
“What, then?”
“A place to
rest. Do you know how long I’ve been on the road? Practically four hundred
years.”
Longer than
we’d been under Regan’s Curse, in other words. But, again, what did he mean
exactly? On the road where, and for what purpose?
His gaze and
expression, they had both become impenetrable.
“Why stop,
after all that time?” I asked.
“This problem
that you have. This isolation from the world. It seems to bother most of you.
But me?”
The dog made
a faint noise and looked up at him.
“It gives me
a captive audience. And I’ve always wanted that. Most humans run away from me
eventually. But the plain fact is, you people cannot. You are rooted to the
spot. And we can …”
His eyes took
on a sickly sheen as he hunted for the right way to put it.
“Get to know
each other properly. We can commune, in depth.”
He could do anything
he wanted with us all, in other words. And take his own sweet time about it. It
didn’t sound like any kind of idle threat. I kept wondering how he was going to
act on it.
“What are
you, really?” I inquired
Saruak’s arms
became slack at his sides.
“Are you
really sure you want to know? It might prove more than you can handle.”
I stared at
him wordlessly.
“Very well,
then,” he responded. “See you again soon, I’m sure.”
The air round
him began to waver, just as it had done inside my office. Just before the old
man disappeared …
I caught a
glimpse of him in his true form.
Blood was
pounding in my temples, and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t seem to move at all.
My insides became frozen. The world tilted or …
no, my knees were buckling. I went down on them hard. And then curled forward,
till my head was pressed against the paving stones. And I stayed there with my
eyes squeezed shut, doing nothing more than simply trying to get some air into
my lungs.