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As she worked, she prayed, to Gaia and to her own mother, Sonja, prayed for
another chance for Ryan.
For both of them.
All her senses were on the alert for some flicker of life from the unconscious
man.
"Yes? "she whispered.
There was something, a tiny spark in the darkness, a whisper in the night.
She reached for the artery at the side of his throat, below the ear, and felt
a tiny, hesitant tremor of life.
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There was still Tyas McCann's cautionary tale at the back of her mind, but
Krysty was almost overcome with relief.
Ryan was going to make it.
Chapter Twenty-One
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"Thought you'd all like to have what they used to call a sneaky preview of the
latest epic movie."
Johannes Forde grinned at the group of friends standing around his wag.
"Before we go and take up the
Family's offer of supper and accommodation for the night. What do you say?"
Ryan nodded. Once Krysty had revived that frail glimmer of life, he had
recovered amazingly fast, his strong constitution helping to pull him through.
It had taken another hour, into full dark, before he'd come around enough to
pick a cautious path back to Bramton, where the others had been waiting
anxiously.
J.B. had already organized the search party, enlisting John Winthrop and some
of the men of the ville.
They'd disbanded with undisguised relief once they saw Ryan and Krysty
stumbling out of the darkness of the surrounding bayou.
Now, after a bowl of rich vegetable soup, so thick it was more of a stew, Ryan
was almost completely recovered from the near-drowning, though he was still
totally blind.
"I've got it all processed and we can take a look. Not what you'd call a
finished cut, as there's a few bits and bobs that need trimming." Forde's neat
white beard and mustache seemed to float in the gloom, with a life of their
own. He was still wearing his fringed buckskins, and his pony tail was now
tied back with a ribbon of brightest gold.
"When will you show it to the people?" Mildred asked. "That's when they settle
up with some jack."
"Indeed, yes. Straight and true as an ebony rule, that is. But, friends
first."
"Someone coming," Jak said, turning to peer into the darkness beyond the
Clanton Corral and the livery stable. His nocturnal vision was the best in the
group.
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"Cornelius?" J.B. asked.
"Come to see why we're late for the meal?"
"No. The Mayor."
It was John Winthrop, scurrying along, keeping close to the shadows of the
buildings that lined the main street. He wore a long duster coat, dark brown,
with its collar turned up high. When he arrived he sounded out of breath and
was visibly nervous in case anyone saw him there.
"I have a little time, outlanders," he panted.
"What is it?" Ryan asked.
"You seem decent, honest folk."
"Get on with it."
"Right, Mr. Cawdor. Indeed. Straightest point between two places is the
shortest line." He scratched his head. "I don't think I have that quite
right."
"We get the picture," Krysty said.
"Yeah," Mildred agreed. "We see."
"You go as guests with the Family."
Ryan nodded. "No secret, Mr. Winthrop. What of it? That what you came for?"
His head bobbed quickly, like a drinking bird. "That's the reason."
Everyone waited, but Winthrop seemed as though he didn't want to elaborate.
"Danger?" Jak said finally.
"Deep and dark," replied the mayor of Bramton. "The Family has reigned here
for longer than anyone can remember. Word is that they never change. No,
that's wrong. Because they change. Yes, they surely do that."
"You aren't making any sense," Forde said. "They never change, but they always
change."
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The clouds had drifted away and a bright moon hung over the bluffs to the
east, toward the cliff-top house of the Family.
"Old people here, like Zenobia Simpkins, swear that Elric and the others have
hardly aged a day in the last twenty years or more."
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Doc snorted. "Old wives' nonsense! Stuff and damned taradiddle!"
"You may think so, Doctor, and you can surely not look to me for comment on
that." Winthrop, despite his quaking fear, was a strangely dignified figure.
"Get on with it, man," Ryan growled, aware of time sliding by them.
"Just a word to the wise, outlanders. Bramton has been owned by the Family
since just after skydark.
Some say for centuries before that."
"You continue to spout the most arrant rubbish, Winthrop." Doc rapped sharply
on the highway with the ferrule of his swordstick. "Before skydark there was
no question of barons and the owning of land and of people. It was not the
American way. Do you have any cogent proof for us of your preposterous
conceits?
No, of course you do not."
Winthrop turned to face the old man. "There have been young men and young
women missing. Only one body, torn and raggled by the millstream. The others"
He snapped his fingers. "Never seen again."
Ryan shook his head. "Every frontier pesthole has the same story, Winthrop.
Young folks get tired and up their roots and move away."
"There is the sickness and the way" He stopped and looked up.
From far above them they all heard a strange, chilling cry, an unearthly
shriek as something passed its shadow between the moon and the watchers, a
creature that seemed to have a huge wingspan, oddly shaped. It swooped once
more, turning at speed so that none of them could see it properly.
Then it vanished. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]