We did that for a while. I sensed that I was not expected to talk.
“It begins at sunup,” she said at last.
“What?”
“The final conflict. Laugh at me. Croaker. I’m going to try to kill a shadow. With no hope of surviving myself.”
Laugh? Never. Admire. Respect. My enemy still, in the end unable to extinguish that last spark of light and so die in yet another way.
All this while she sat there primly, hands folded in her lap. She stared into the fire as if certain that eventually it would reveal the answer to some mystery. She began to shiver.
This woman for whom death held such devouring terror had chosen death over surrender.
What did that do for my confidence? Nothing good. Nothing good at all. I might have felt better had I seen the picture she did. But she did not talk about it.
In a very, very soft, tentative voice, she asked, “Croaker? Will you hold me?”
What? I didn’t say it, but I sure as hell thought it.
I didn’t say anything. Clumsily, uncertainly, I did as she asked.
She began crying on my shoulder, softly, quietly, shaking like a captive baby rabbit.
It was a long time before she said anything. I did not presume.
“No one has done this since I was a baby. My nurse...”
Another long silence.
“I’ve never had a friend.”
Another long gap.
“I’m scared, Croaker. And alone.”
“No. We’ll all be with you.”
“Not for the same reasons.” She fell silent for good then. I held her a long time. The fire burned down and its light faded from the room. Outside, the wind began to howl.
When I finally thought she had fallen asleep, and started to disengage myself, she clung more tightly, so I stilled and continued to hold her, though half the muscles in my body ached.
Eventually she peeled herself away, rose, built up the fire. I sat. She stood behind me a while, staring at the flames. Then she rested a hand on my shoulder a moment. In a faraway voice she said, “Good night.”
She went into another room. I sat for ten or fifteen minutes before putting on a last log and shuffling back into the real world.
I must have worn an odd look. Neither Goblin nor One-Eye aggravated me. I rolled into my bedroll, back to them, but did not fall asleep for a long time.
Fifty-Five
Opening rounds
I wakened startled. The null! I had been out of it so much it disturbed me by its presence. I rolled out hurriedly, discovered I was alone in the room. Not only there, but in the barracks, practically. There were a few Guards in the mess hall.
The sun was not yet up.
The wind still howled around the building. There was a marked chill in the air, though the fires were burning high. I shoveled boiled oats in and wondered what I was missing.
The Lady entered as I finished. “There you are. I thought I’d have to leave without you.”
Whatever her problems the night before, she was brisk and confident and ready for business now.
The null faded while I got my coat. I dropped by my own room momentarily. The Limper was there still. I left frowning thoughtfully.
Into the carpet. Full crew today. Every carpet was fully crewed and armed. But I was more interested in the absence of snow between town and the Barrowland., That howling wind had blown it away. We went up as it became light enough to see. The Lady took the carpet up till the Barrowland resembled a map taking shape as shadows vaporized. She set us to cruising in a tight circle. The wind, I noted, had faded.
The Great Barrow looked ready to collapse into the river. “One hundred hours,” she said, as though divining my thoughts. So we were reduced to counting hours. I looked around the horizon. There. “The comet.” “They can’t see it from the ground. But tonight... it’ll have to cloud up.”
Below, tiny figures scurried around one quarter of the cleared area. The Lady unrolled a map similar to Bpmanz’s. “Raven,” I said. “Today. If we’re lucky.” “What’re they doing down there?” “Surveying.”
More than that was happening. The Guards were out in full battle regalia, forming an arc around the Barrowland. Light siege machines were being assembled. But some men were, indeed, surveying and setting up rows of lances flying colored pennons. I did not ask why. She would not explain.
A dozen windwhales hovered to the east, beyond the river. I had thought them long departed. The sky there burned with dawn’s conflagration. “First test,” the Lady said. “A feeble monster.” She frowned in concentration. Our carpet began to glow.
A white horse and white rider came from the town. Darling. Accompanied by Silent and the Lieutenant. Darling rode into an aisle marked by pennons. She halted beside the last.
The earth erupted. Something that might have been first cousin to Toadkiller Dog, and even more closely related to an octopus, burst into the light. It raced over the Barrowland, toward the river, away from the null.
Darling galloped toward town.
Wizards’ fury rained from the carpets. The monster was a cinder in seconds. “One,” the Lady said. Below, men began another aisle of pennons.
And so it went, slowly and deliberately, all the day long. Most of the Dominator’s creatures broke for the river. The few that charged the other way encountered a barricade of missile fire before succumbing to the Taken.
“Is there time to eliminate them all?” I asked as the sun was setting. I had been itchy for hours, sitting in one place.
“More than enough. But it won’t stay this easy.”
I probed, but she would not expand upon what she had said.
It looked slick to me. Just pick them off and keep picking them off, and go for the big guy when they were all gone. Tough he might be, but what could he do enveloped in the null?
When I staggered into the barracks, to my room, I found the Limper still at work. The Taken need less rest than we mortals, but he had to be on the edge of collapse. What the hell was he doing?
Then there was Bomanz. He had not appeared today. What was he trying to slip up his sleeve?
I was eating a supper very much like breakfast when Silent materialized. He settled opposite me, clutching a bowl of mush as if it were an alms bowl. He looked pale.
“How was it for Darling?” I asked.
He signed, “She almost enjoyed it. She took chances she should not have. One of those things almost got to her. Otto was hurt fending it off.”
“He need me?”
“One-Eye managed.”
“What’re you doing here?”
“It is the night to bring Raven out.”
“Oh.” Again I had forgotten Raven. How could I number myself among his friends when I seemed so indifferent to his fate?
Silent followed me to where I was staying with One-Eye and Goblin. Those two joined us shortly. They were subdued. They had been assigned major roles in the recovery of our old friend.
I worried more about Silent. The shadow had passed over him. He was fighting it. Would he be strong enough to win?
Part of him did not want Raven rescued.
Part of me did not, either.
A very tired Lady came to ask, “Will you participate in this?”
I shook my head. “I’d just get in the way. Let me know when it’s done.”
She gave me a hard look, then shrugged and went away.
Very late a feeble One-Eye wakened me. I bolted up. “Well?”
“We managed. I don’t know how well. But he’s back.”
“How was it?”
“Rough.” He crawled into his bedroll. Goblin was in his already, snoring. Silent had come with them. He was against the wall, wrapped in a borrowed blanket, cutting logs. By the time I wakened fully One-Eye was sawing with the rest.
In Raven’s room there was nothing to see but Raven snoring and Case looking worried. The crowd had cleared out, leaving a ripe stench behind.
“He seem all right?” I asked.