Little Will studied Bigfoot as the young woman approached the old bull. Her motions were sure, unhurried. To look at her from the outside, fear was not in Bigfoot's vocabulary. But the bullhands knew the things Bigfoot's guts were telling her. Run. Run and don't look back. This bull is a killer. Run!
After crushing Little Will's arm to a useless stump and shattering the bones in her left leg so badly that two years later she still did not have the use of it, Reg had broken through the kraal fence and had headed into town. Reg's trumpeting had brought the sleeping Miirans out of their beds into the street just as the bull entered it. They fought to get out of the bull's way, but by the time Reg was brought under control, six broken bodies lay in the dust.
Since then Reg had killed two more bullhands and had crippled a third. Little Will sat forward as Bigfoot stopped directly in front of Reg. The bull snorted and, with her long trunk, took a swipe at the bullhand. As the trunk came around, Bigfoot smacked it with her bullhook. Reg's head reared up and the bull's massive feet shuffled uncertainly in the lowgrass.
As Reg settled down, and Bigfoot held her hand out toward the beast, Little Will leaned back and closed her eyes. She listened as Bigfoot spoke gentle words to the elephant, and let her mind's image rise from her body. Little Will's image sailed upward, then rolled among the clouds. This image had two good arms and two good legs. She turned and looked far below at the scene in the kraal. Reg's trunk was wrapped around Bigfoot's left wrist. The young woman's bullhook was in her right hand, in conspicuous view of the elephant. The bull's trunk crept up Bigfoot's arm and shoulder, sniffed at Bigfoot's hair, then slithered off. Bigfoot held out a raw cobit root, and Reg took it.
Little Will watched the scene, a touch of jealousy in her heart, when blackness began crowding the edge of her vision. She rolled until she faced the blackness. It extended up from the horizon until it blotted out the sun. She looked down but none of the bullhands seemed to notice anything different. She again faced the blackness, startled at how much it had grown.
What are you?
She moved toward the black, again shouting at it. What are you?
The voice came from the center of the darkness. Get out of my way, Mother.
Johnjay?
Get out of my way. I am here to finish the job that I started.
Johnjay! No! I'll stop you!
You cannot.
The blackness swept her from the sky and she opened her eyes to find herself in her litter. She looked up at the sky but could see nothing but cloud-dotted blue. She closed her eyes tightly. Johnjay, don't do it. Don't do it, Johnjay.
Wind rustled the tops of the trees, and the clouds began to darken. Bigfoot had Reg kneeling. She climbed upon the beast, sat astride its neck, then the beast stood. Bigfoot said something, and Reg began walking. Straight, then left, then right, then the bull stopped and reared up upon its hind legs and stood there. The bullhands surrounding Little Will applauded, cried, cheered.
The tears trickled down Little Will's cheeks. Can't you see what you would be destroying, Johnjay? Can't you see that, even now?
You, Mother! You and all of those sanctimonious people! You... you shall see the powers I now have.
The sky darkened and thunder began rumbling from the west. The bullhands surrounding the kraal looked up at the sky. Little Will closed her eyes, forced her image from her body, and flew up at the dark clouds. Johnjay, stop! Stop!
The darkness before her shaped itself into an enormous black and green dragon. Tongues of fire leaped from its mouth, its talons, each one the size of a tree, reached down toward the kraal. Nothing can stop me. I have a debt to pay to this bull and to all of my good, good friends and neighbors.
He swatted her from the sky, and as she tumbled toward the ground, she screamed. Look at them, Johnjay! Look at their minds! Look at what you are doing! Look at their minds! Blackness covered everything, and Little Will collapsed unconscious upon her litter.
She awakened in her room, screaming. Mortify knelt next to her. "Be calm! Calm yourself!"
Little Will shook her head. "Johnjay, the blackness, the... dragon..."
Mortify patted her hand. "Everything is all right, Great Little Will. Please believe me. You've simply had a bad nightmare."
"Reg? Is Reg all right?"
Mortify nodded. "Reg is fine; as is Bigfoot. That girl has that bull minding her manners."
"The blackness... the dark."
"It was just a little sour weather. That and you're tired. Get some rest, and you'll see that everything will be just fine."
Little Will pointed at her room's window. "Help me up and bring me there."
"Well, I don't know if I should. I mean—"
"I said help me up!"
"Very well." Mortify took Little Will's hand and pulled until she was standing upon her wobbly legs. Placing an arm around her waist, he helped her to her window. She looked out toward the kraal and saw Bigfoot still working Reg, the bullhands of Miira still watching the pair. Mortify held a hand out toward the scene. "See? Did I tell you?"
She examined the scene again and again. Then she faced Mortify. "Help me to my bed."
After he had done as he had been requested, Mortify bade farewell and left. Little Will stared for a long time through her window at the sky. The strength of the thing she had felt; Johnjay could have razed the entire town of Miira if he had wanted to. And the hate. His hate of Reg was a malignant thing that had seemed to engulf her. But Reg still lived. "Reg is still alive, and the bullhands still have a bull."
And, she thought, Johnjay is still an exile. He could have killed the bull, but didn't. "My poor son. Is it because you only now see the terribleness of your deed? If you have just learned that, how you must be suffering."
She closed her eyes and let her image float freely. Johnjay! Johnjay! Let me come to you. Let me come to you now. Johnjay? As she called, she drifted off to sleep.
THIRTY
No One stood upon the crest of the Upland Mountain Range. Far below to the north was the Great Muck and Waco's Lake. In the far distance, a pure white cloud covered the peak of White Top Mountain. The thread of the White Top Mountain Road writhed down from the frozen lakes until it was almost lost in the jungle below. There, at the town of Arcadia, it joined the great road that stretched from Miira southwest through the Great Muck until it reached Arcadia, then turned south and went over the Upland Range, and down to the Great Desert where it ended in the Town of Kuumic.
Twin columns of white smoke rose from the iron furnace in Arcadia. Where the columns became one, the river of smoke bent and pointed northeast in a straight line toward Miira. No One turned his back on the Great Muck and walked the crest until the Great Desert spread before him. Tears filled his eyes and he raised his open hands toward the sky.
"Momus! Momus, you great fat laughing fool! Momus, look at me! Look at me..."
He whirled about, and the direction of the smoke changed. His palms faced White Top Mountain, and seconds later its cover of clouds was gone. He looked at a boulder upon the ground and watched with unblinking eyes as it exploded into a thousand pieces.
He looked back at the sky, his arms still raised. "But I cannot alter the past, you great joker. The past is set for all time, and I damn the laws of your universe!"