Volume One: The Road Out
Chapter Three
Verse Eight: Exit, Pursued by
Hound
"Did that
work, do you think?" Marion asked Mrs Trilby, his neighbour from
his old life and also apparently, a secret witch.
"I don't know
dear, You've got the Bone Man watching them and to look closer would
draw his attention back to you and back to me. I'm not the
Storyteller, I'm just one of the witches. We don't have the power the
main characters in the story have. We meddle and sting the enemy, we
delay and obscure, we mentor the heroes. But the story doesn't give
us enough power to actually change things, and any of us who do seek
greater power, almost inevitably end up villains corrupted by the
Locust King or one of the old ones; or else something goes horribly
wrong."
"I don't
understand what you mean. A witch sounds pretty powerful."
"It does,
doesn't it? But look at the stories. We give warnings or omens, we
provide weapons or charms or spells. We act as mentors and
gatekeepers. The Lady of the Lake giving Arthur Excalibur or Obi-Won
Kenobi giving Luke his lightsaber, that's the sort of thing the story
set us up to do."
"I thought
Arthur drew the sword from the stone?"
"It depends on
the story dear. In some versions one happened, in other versions the other
happened," Mrs. Trilby said, "In some versions, Arthur had
two swords and both happened: a sword of war and a sword of peace. I
have no idea what a sword of peace could be. Bizarre idea. But the
point is, we're helpers and testers, tricksters and betrayers, but
never on a grand scale. Since the fall of the story, we've worked to
hinder the Locust King and his empire, little acts of disobedience
and sabotage. Grand heroic quests are the purview of the young. If
you survive long enough to grow old, you might end up a witch or a
wizard when somebody replaces you as Dreamer. "
"Speaking of
survival, how do I do that? What's next? The kids say that we need to
meet the Witch Doctor. The problem is that I don't know who he is,
let alone where he is. Is he a witch?"
"No dear."
Mrs. Trilby paused and hummed a bit, as though considering how to
word things, "He's exactly like you, a storyteller. Only further
along in the story. Your friend is looking for him, but you boys
don't know how to find him, so you'll need guides. There's the Bonelands and the Shadowlands. And he's not in
the Shadowlands where you're walking right now so that's a problem. I
can sense you and your friends on the witch road right now, little
points of magnetic force under my iron pendulum. You'll need help.
Witches or wizards to guide you. I can only do so much from here. You
should find locals. Witches don't disappear, they adapt."
"Wait. What's
the difference between a wizard and a witch? And what do you mean
further along the story? So am I trapped in a different story then?"
Marion asked.
"No dear, it's
all the same story. But the story is very big. It's like a globe, you
can't lay it flat to form a single accurate picture of the world.
Every map distorts things a little. It's the same thing with the
story dear. We must view it from different angles, from different
points of view."
"Okay. Can I
ask something really big then. We've been running none stop and
people have been describing what's happening to us as a story. Why?
What does that mean?"
"We tell
stories dear. Humans do. We tell them to make sense of the world, and
through these stories we anticipate the world and adapt to it and
survive in it. My cats, and any other predators, see the future, or
rather guess the future. And of course a guess is just a story about
what we think shall happen. It's how we control our experience of the
world. And when people get together, they tell bigger stories that
explain how those people decide the world aught to be. And everyone
who lives in that group, that tribe has to work within the story that
the group agrees upon, whether they like it or not. If they really
object, they either have to try to change the story or leave the
group. The Locust King changed the story, but then he went and grew
an empire across all the other stories. Nobody could leave his story,
there was virtually nowhere that his story didn't dominate the
landscape. We were all trapped in his story. And when we enter
somebody's life, we enter their story and fill a role within that
story. When we act in opposition to somebody's story, we become their
enemy or their villain or their monster in the dark. And so everyone
who told the old story was either corrupted, destroyed or transformed
into a villain. The lucky few manage to escape the reach of the
Locust King's story. When we step outside somebody's story, we
confound them and become invisible. "
"So, the world
will be transformed into something better if Harley and I help Maia
and Fitzroy do their thing?"
"No dear, the
world sustained by the old story will be freed. To steal a metaphor,
it will be resurrected after dying at the hands of the empire. Oh my.
Listen to my. I've gone and internalized my cover story. Now isn't
that a thing?"
"How do I help
Harley and the gang find the witches?"
"Well you're
straddling the light and the shadow right now, you're almost
certainly broadcasting, probably mumbling like an old prophet, I
shouldn't wonder. So they might know already, but keep talking dear,
that will up the odds. You should stop talking to me though. These
calls aren't untraceable and the land your in is completely under the
thrall of the Locust King, you're in his house and he has eyes
everywhere. Good Luck dear, call me when you're able and try not to
get killed too horribly."
* * *
"We've been
driving all day. And pretty much all of last night too. We need to
sleep." Harley said, as the goblin bounced over rocks and slight
ruts that Fitzroy swore up and down were roads. In the back, Marion
mumbled in the driver's seat mostly unintelligibly.
"I can still
feel the hound." Fitzroy said uncertainly, "I can't tell
how close though. I can't see the hound, only the rippled on the
witch road when it distorts things. Its not too close, but its still
coming."
"Marion's
talking about the witch road," Maia said from the back seat.
"What's he
saying?" Harley asked without looking back, "I can't hear
him from up here."
"He's talking
about how we need to find witches to guide us on the witch road."
"I haven't
heard anything about witches before this,' Harley answered, "Doesn't
he mean the witch doctor guy?"
"He isn't
saying witch doctor, he's just saying witches."
"More
complications." Harley said, his voice neutral.
* * *
Marion looked at
the farm, corn stalks were wreathed in bean shoots crawling upwards
and he could see squash growing at the base of the stalks. the pale
wendigo seemed undecided as to whether they should gorge themselves
on the clearly not yet ripe crops or attempt to feast upon the couple
wielding pitchfork and shovel to ward keep the wendigo away from the
two children huddling against the wall of the cottage. Marion guessed
that the family was part of the Locust King's empire from their
clothes, which had a distinctly medieval peasant look, and that they
would probably attack him as soon as he dispatched the wendigo. But
still, the children were terrified and Marion couldn't stand by.
"I'm getting
to be a regular superhero." He muttered to himself, calling the
tomahawks into his hands. "I need a freaking cape and logo."
Marion reached out
and felt the flow, flow he was starting to suspect related to the
story and probably the plot. He felt the flow and connected with it,
let it draw him up and guide him like wind. And then he was moving,
running down the hill, a hurricane with twin tomahawks.
The family saw him
coming, and he could see that they were unsure if he was there to
help them or make things worse. The Wendigo did not see Marion until
it was far to late.
* * *
The Bone Man stared
at the knight who had initiated the ritual and shook his head, only
once, then said, "Your failure has compromised the operation and
has damaged my standing with the King. He is sending additional
troops, Knights of Unity, not ours. And he is calling the Princeling
home. To learn, he says. We have disappointed him. We cannot falter
again. Failure cannot happen again."
"Of course not
sir" the knight said, his words rushing out and tripping over
themselves in their hurry.
"Then we are
in agreement. I am pleased that you understand. Your replacement will
be inspired by the lesson I hope. Now close your eyes and think of
the empire."
As the Bone Man
spoke, the face of the knight transformed from a tense smile to an
open mouthed gape. He seemed to attempt to speak, but never managed
to find the words. And finally, as the Bone Man stopped speaking, he
simply nodded and closed his eyes.
The other knights
turned to look away.
A scream of pain
pierced the silence. And then the Bone Man spoke, "we are pure
once more. Onwards."
* * *
The Wendigo lay
dead, piled outside the fenced off garden and now attracting flies.
The family Marion had saved, consisting of Ana Lee and her husband
johnboy and their twin daughters Edie and Ellie, had not turned on
Marion after the confrontation was over. Rather, they had invited him
in and served him a meal of polenta, their last winter squash,
refried beans and something that they claimed was beef but tasted
like venison. Marion had not seen any cows outside. A small fenced
enclosure held pigs. Another small coop housed chickens that had run
free before the Wendigo found them. The handful of survivors now
huddled in the coop in fear. But Marion had not seen any evidence of
cows on the tiny homestead. He had seen a wooded area up the hill to
the south.
Marion didn't ask
why they would tell him that venison was beef. He could guess. They
thanked him. And the girls, who were maybe five, asked him all sorts
of questions that he deflected so as not to scare them. The cabin was
a one room affair with a kitchen area and a sleeping area and not
much else save for an alter in the west facing corner. Two corn husk
dolls sat upon the altar, and initially, Marion had thought they were
just toys.
Upon a second
viewing, Marion noticed that the dolls were positioned as part of a
diorama. The corn husk dolls were of male and female design. The
woman was depicted with an enormous spider and spreading web
behind her, all made of wood and corn husks and twine. The man
was depicted with a huge corn husk serpent coiling around him. The
serpent had heads at both ends of its body, depicted with the skulls
of lizards.
Johnboy saw Marion
staring and moved his large body to block Marion's view.
"I thought you
guys served the Locust King? Aren't those..."
"The Knights
of Purity knocked down all the old standing stones and burned all the
old ancestor poles. The Knights of Unity made sure anyone who
survived the war joined the empire, and the Knights of Purity made
sure that anyone who don't join was never seen again. You serve the
King in public or you get purified. What you do in private,
you don't talk about." Johnboy said.
"Stories go
into hiding. People are still telling the story, but the community
isn't. I wonder what that means?" Marion mused out loud.
"It means
you're thinking thoughts that are going to get you killed."
"I'm a
dreamer, that's what I do." Marion answered, and watched both
Johnboy and his wife stiffen.
"You need to
go, now." Ana Lee said, standing and wringing her hands.
"You're afraid
I'll put you at risk." Marion said.
"I'm afraid
we've put you at risk. The empire, watches at best it can. If you are
within the bounds of its story, it will see you. The altar is
not their story, inside the four walls of our home, the empire is
likely blind, but our farm outside belongs to the empire. It almost
certainly knows you are here, and will have sensed what you are. You
need to run."
"Will you be
okay? If it knows who I am?"
"Only if it
thinks we know as well. We will hide our altar, and do as we always
do. Big players like the King and the Chieftains and the Prince strut
about acting like they know more than they do. The rest of us survive
by acting like we know less than we do. Now run."
Marion ran. He
wasn't sure for how long, but it felt like an hour or more. Marion
couldn't accurately gauge time in this world. He didn't look back
until he reached wooded hill. When he looked back the farm was in
flames and tiny figures in white were swarming across the burning
farmstead.
* * *
The campfire
sputtered as Maia slept curled in the front seat of the Cricket.
Marion was still stuffed in the back of the Cricket and still
muttering. Fitzroy and Harley sat by the campfire at yet another
government camp grounds trying to look normal to the few other
families camping. They had chosen the most isolated spot and were
trying to rest as best they could. The camp site was spartan. They
had a bucket, provided by the camp grounds, filled with water to put
out the fire. The site had a fire pit, but no picnic table. They had
one sleeping bag, no tent and no camp stove or cooler.
Harley was trying
not to doze off, and hoping Fitzroy might finally be able to sleep
when Marion's muttering rose back to an audible level.
"You're afraid
I'll put you at risk." Marion said in a worried tone.
Maia climbed out of
the Cricket, "Mr. Marion's talking again." She said as she
walked over to Harley.
"I heard,"
Harley acknowledged, "It doesn't sound good either."
The campfire
suddenly flared and began coalescing into a vaguely human form. Maia
ducked under the Cricket as the flames rose. Harley stood up to face
the fire.
"Somebody has
left the phone off the hook." A voice in the flame said,
"Inexperience, I imagine. That must be a problem for your side.
Mortality is not an asset in a game played over such a long time. We
remain and learn how best to win. You die of conflict or simple age
and must relearn each time. How will you beat us?"
"Who's there?"
Fitzroy asked looking up
"I am not
here. But let us speak in any case. I have chased you. And thus far
you have eluded me. But you cannot escape me. Every slip, every error
and I draw closer."
The image in the
flames came clear and the Bone Man stood looking at Harley and
Fitzroy. The night seemed to deepen around the campfire and soon
Harley could not see anything outside the, now white hot, glow of the
fire. The howl of the hound sounded just outside the circle of light.
Again the howl sounded, the same distance away but from a different
angle.
"It's circling
us." Fitzroy said, putting a hand to his head in obvious pain.
"I am keeping
it at bay for you, not out of generosity, but to make an offer. You
may accept my offer, and I shall draw you to me. Or, you may turn it
down, and I will let the hound in."
"I doubt we'll
like the offer." Harley said.
"Does that
mean you refuse?"
"I didn't say
that. We'll listen." Harley answered.
"My offer is
simple. Step out of the story, and allow the hound to deal with the
children. Do this and you will be allowed to go free, and we will
even reward you. Power, wealth, success, your lives back and more. We
can give you a purity of meaning to your life that you currently
lack, a direction and a focus- a real mission and not this meandering
flight to nothing."
Fitzroy looked
apprehensively at Harley who had been listening quietly. Harley shook
his head.
"I've listened
to you, but I'm not interested in wealth or success at the cost of my
honour and self-respect, and Marion would say the same if he were
lucid."
The Bone Man closed
his eyes and tilted his head skyward for a moment and then returned
to staring at Harley, "Then consider the other part of the
offer. Amnesty. Your life back. You won't die. You won't be arrested
for kidnapping and murder of federal agents and the increasingly
horrifying list of charges your world has laid upon your mortal
shoulders."
Harley turned away
from the Bone Man and from Fitzroy and clasped his hands behind his
back. He looked down at the ground in silence.
Fitzroy watched
silently. The Bone Man watched Fitzroy with an expression that
Fitzroy could only classify as hunger.
"Your days of
rebellion are all but finished boy. We always win." The Bone Man
said to Fitzroy as Harley stood silently inspecting the earth in
front of his feet.
Fitzroy shook his
head, "You haven't caught us yet."
"Your nanny
will see my logic. Surrender is better than the fangs of the Hound
and the oblivion it offers."
"Oblivion
doesn't scare me," Harley said, turning back around, "That's
what I expect to great me when I die. Why should I fear what is, by
definition, nothing? It takes a pretty big ego to fear
non-existence."
"You may not
fear death," The Bone Man said, crossing his arms, "But
surely you fear the dying, as the hound tears your essence to pieces
and destroys you little by little."
"We aren't
agreeing to your offer." Harley said, shaking his head as the
hound howled just outside the light, "I listened. I told you I
would, I'm nice that way. But I didn't hear a reasonable offer. So
no, I'm not accepting your offer."
"Then I guess
I must let the hound in."
"I guess you
will."
"You won't!"
Maia yelled as she scrambled out from under the Cricket and grabbed
the water bucket.
The Bone Man looked
down at her in surprise as she flung the whole bucket onto the fire
with a defiant hiss. Smoke billowed and the Bone Man began to fade
from view. He smiled.
"You have no
weapons that can hurt the hound. You cannot run from hound. This
changes nothing. It will follow the smell of your fear wherever you
run."
As the fire died,
the outside light seemed to return, seeping back in like a cautious
puppy afraid of being kicked. One corner remained dark, the light
sucked from the area by the hound as it stood across the dying fire
from Harley.
"Any ideas
guys?" Harley asked.
"Run for the
Cricket?" Maia said.
Harley looked back
at the Cricket to see the cab and hood caked in glittering white
frost.
"I don't think
that's an option." He said.
"Have you
noticed?" Fitzroy said, "They way people talk about the
Hound?"
The hound growled.
"You mean that
you can't run?" Harley asked.
"has anyone
tried not running?" Fitzroy asked.
At this the hound
stopped and cocked its head.
"I think that
if they did, they eliminated themselves from the pool of people who
are able to talk about the hound." Harley said.
"But everyone
is telling us that this is a story. Because what if the person who
didn't run was one of the main characters?"
"Main
characters can die, Fitzroy. Every tells us that too. Why would you
even try?" Harley said.
"Because then
you'll have time to get me sister out of here." Fitzroy said and
then he stepped over the cooling embers of the fire towards the
hound.
The hound took
cautious step back as the teenager marched forward, fists clenched
and knees shaking. The hound howled again and Fitzroy's pace
stuttered, but then he steadied himself and kept advancing. harley
watched and Fitzroy seemed to have an aura around him, as though he
were drawing up or emanating some sort of power. The hound howled
again, and Harley though the howl sounded off, maybe a little
desperate. Fitzroy closed on the hound's position and the hound
looked around and then when it seemed convinced that Fitzroy wasn't
stopping it began frantically backing up, front legs stumbling over
back legs as the teenaged boy bore down on the now terrified creature
of shadow and darkness.
"You can't eat
me!" Fitzroy yelled, a little shrilly, "I'm not afraid of
you!"
Harley wasn't sure
he believed what he was hearing from Fitzroy, but the hound finally
turned and scrambled away tail between it's legs. Harley shook his
head.
Fitzroy turned and
walked back towards the campsite, but Harley noted that he seemed
winded and staggered a little bit as he walked.
"I guess I am
one of the main characters." Fitzroy said as he walked up,
"Because I just scared off the scariest thing I've ever seen."
"You did
good." Harley said, watching the teen closely.
"I feel a
little fried though, kind of used up." He staggered again, and
harley stepped towards him, catching Fitzroy as he started to fall.
"Fitz!"
Maia cried as Harley caught him.
"I think I
need to rest a minute, because things are getting awfully heavy,
Fitzroy said, his pupils dilating as he spoke, "Because the
Witch Road is getting really heavy. I think I'm sinking into it."
"Fitz?"
Maia asked, running up beside them.
"He's spaced
out. Like Marion I think." Harley said.
"No! He
can't!" Maia cried, dropping to her knees before saying quietly,
"He figured out how to find the witch doctor guy and he could
see the witch road thing and now two of us are zombie guys and, and I
need my brother, and I'm scared."
Harley needed both
hands to carry Fitzroy and so he heaved the catatonic teen over to
the Cricket and buckled him into the back seat. he kept an eye out
for the Hound, but it didn't reappear. Closing the door, he heard
Marion still mumbling about witches.
Harley shook his
head, "Fine. Let's go find ourselves a witch."
