Revenge of the Manitou (29 page)

“Pa-la-
kai
!” howled
Misquamacus
. “I give
you this traitor’s blood! I give you every drop that flows in his veins, every
ounce in his heart! This is your sacrifice, Pa-la-
kai
,
master of death! This is your reward, Pa-la-
kai
, god
of blood!”

Singing Rock,
instead of collapsing, staggered to his feet and sprayed his medicine powders
in a crisscross pattern. His eyes were wild, and his whole face was contorted
with the effort of what he was doing. In a stentorian voice, he called: “
Ossadagowah
!
By the commands of the elder
gods, by the forbidden words of.
Sadogowah
, by
the thousand deaths and the thousand lives, I bid you to appear!”

Misquamacus
paused, taken completely by surprise. He stared
at Singing Rock in disbelief.

Singing Rock
had actually dared to summon the demon whom no Indian medicine men ever dared
to summon, the beast in no human shape
whom
Misquamacus
had been intending to use himself to call up
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
,
the one who slept beneath the waters.

Even though
Ossadagowah
was dangerous to any human, no matter how many
sacrifices were placed before him, he was almost always inclined to favor those
who summoned him from the great outside, and for a while, anyway, he would do
their bidding. This time, in this manifestation, that meant Singing Rock’s
bidding.

Singing Rook
had scarcely spoken when a strange cold cloudiness began to form over the
bridge. The cloudiness widened and slowly settled downward, misting the bright
globes of Pa-la-
kai
and making them shine with dim opalescence.
In a few minutes, the fires of Pa-la-
kai
had died and
dimmed, and there was nothing over the bridge except that chilly white miasma
of evil.

“
Ossadagowah
, most revered son of
Sadogowah
,
hungry one from the great outside, I offer you these wonder-workers,” called
Singing Rock. Again, he cast his powders. “I give you their blood and their
brains and their very spirits to grind between your teeth. I give you their
essence to absorb in your selfness. I give you this and offer you my prayer.”

The white cloud
coiled and twisted like fat transparent white maggots. It uttered a noise, too,
like nothing Harry had ever heard. A doleful, hideous groaning
sound, that
made him feel cold all over. The sound of a
being
who
was without pity, without emotion, without
any recognizable soul. Harry knew what Singing Rock had risked, summoning
Ossadagowah
. He had risked himself, and everyone else
around them, and maybe thousands of others. Only a great wonder-worker could
seal
Ossadagowah
back on the great outside, and there
were only two wonder-workers living who were capable of doing it. Singing Rock,
if he was at the peak of his strength, which he wasn’t; and
Misquamacus
.

Misquamacus
knew that, too. He knew that Singing Rock had
outwitted him. He paused for a moment, his face lifted toward the cold, waving
tentacles of
Ossadagowah
, and then he reached into
his costume. He produced a small gray tablet of stone, and held it toward
Ossadagowah
. At the same time, he started to chant and
sing, quickly and loudly, and-Harry thought-almost desperately.

Ossadagowah
groaned again, and his groaning shook the earth
beneath their feet. His cloudiness seemed to spread wider, and his tentacles
thrashed the air. Then, very gradually, the coils of his amorphous form started
to fold in on themselves and disappear, and within a few moments his whole
being had vanished.

Now
Misquamacus
faced Singing Rock alone. But the ancient
wonder-worker turned his back on Singing Rock contemptuously for a while, and
raised his arms to address the other medicine men. They spoke among themselves,
their faces grim and vengeful, and then, when they had decided on what they
were going to do, they turned and faced Singing Rock again.

Misquamacus
and Singing Rock spoke to each other for a
while. Harry tried to catch what they were saying, but they were talking
quietly and with little emotion, and when he did catch an occasional word, it
sounded as if it was in some Indian language. It could have been a challenge
from one medicine man to another. It could have been a demand from
Misquamacus
that Singing Rock should leave the side of the
white men and fight instead for his blood brothers.

Whatever it
was, Singing Rock shook his head at the end of it, and walked back through the
lines of police cars without another word.

“What’s
happening?” demanded Captain Myers. “What’s going on out there?”

Singing Rock
knelt down by his case and put away his powders and his amulets. Then he stood
up and looked from Harry to Neil to Captain Myers.

“What you saw
just now was just a skirmish,” he said. “I caught
Misquamacus
off-balance, and I managed to prevent him from unleashing those demons on the
countryside. But, as you can see, he is scarcely tired, and I am exhausted. He
has twenty other wonderworkers to back him up, and twenty other wonder-workers
to call up the most terrible of gods from elder times. He says that even
without
Ossadagowah
, he will raise
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
from the waters, and that will mean the end of us all.”

Captain Myers
bristled with anger. “What is this?” he snapped. “This is a whole bunch of
clouds and optical illusions and stuff like that, and you’re trying to tell me
it’s dangerous? The only thing that’s dangerous around here, fellow, is that gang
of terrorists out on the bridge there.”

“Terrorists?”
queried Singing Rock. “You really think they’re terrorists?”

“They stole the
school bus, kidnapped the kids,
blew
the bus up. Then
they shot down thirty people. What else would you call them?”

“Captain,” said
Singing Rock, “if all that is true, then where
are the
children’s bodies
?”

“Blown up, I
guess,” said the captain grumpily.

“And where are
their weapons, those terrorists? Can you see any of them carrying a gun?”

“They’re
concealed. Russian-made concealed weapons.”

“Concealed
where?” asked Harry dryly.
“In their hats?”

Captain Myers
didn’t answer.

Singing Rock
said, “I tried to tell you before, captain, and you just wouldn’t listen. Those
men out there are reincarnated medicine men from many centuries past. In a
while, they will raise from Lake
Berryessa
a god
known as
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
, and
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
will kill all of us.”

Captain Myers
pulled at his ear.
“
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
,
huh
?”

“That’s right.
A beast in no human shape.
The most
terrible and feared of all the olden gods.
The spawn
of the Great Old One himself.”

Captain Myers
looked perplexed. He walked a little way away, and then he came back and said,

“
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
?”

Singing Rock
nodded. “If you look out on the bridge, you can see that they’re beginning to
call him already.” The captain shaded his eyes from the floodlights, and
squinted for a while at
Misquamacus
and his medicine
men. Then he stalked off to make a report over the transmitter.

Singing Rock
pressed his fingers to his eyes. Harry watched him for a while, and then said,
“Is there anything I can do?”

Singing Rock
shook his head. “This is turning out to be a duel. The only trouble is, there
are
twenty-two of them-well, twenty-one now, if that makes
any difference-and only one of me. I can’t fight them very much longer.”

“What about
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
?
What can we do against him?”

Singing Rock
shrugged. “I really don’t know. And even if I did, I don’t think I’d have the
strength to do anything about it.”

Neil said, “You
can’t give up now. If you beat them, I’ll get Toby back. Please.”

Singing Rock
said, “I’m doing whatever I can, Neil. I promise you. But you mustn’t hold out
too much hope.” Neil said, “I’ve always had hope. Dammit, I’ve had hope when
there was nothing else.
When everybody thought I was crazy.”

“But, Neil-”
said Harry.

“But nothing,”
interrupted Neil. “The point is that white men beat the Indians once, including
their medicine men, and if they did it once they can do it again. If
Misquamacus
was so great, how come the prairies are all
farms now, and all the buffalo are dead, and the elder gods are all forgotten?
How come the Indians are all living on reservations?”

Singing Rock
tiredly ran his hand through his hair. “The Indians lost because they lost
faith in their magic,” he said. “It wasn’t anything to do with the power of
medicine men like
Misquamacus
. It was just that the
medicine men couldn’t do anything without the support of their nations.”

“I don’t
believe it,” snapped Neil. “I believe the white man won the West because he
worked harder and fought harder and because he wouldn’t ever give in.”

“Neil,” said
Harry, trying to calm him down.

“I don’t
believe the Indians lost faith,” repeated Neil. “I just believe that the white
men were stronger, and that was all.”

There was a
rumbling noise from the direction of the lake. A humid wind blew for a while,
and then died away. It left a strange smell behind it, a smell of fish and cold
fog. All along the shores of Lake
Berryessa
, the water
began to foam and
grow
agitated. A small tidal wave
even washed into Pope Creek, below the bridge, in a swill of muddy froth.
Singing Rock turned and stared at the bridge. He could see
Misquamacus
,
illuminated by the police floodlights, swaying from side to side and singing in
a piercing, high-pitched tone.

“He’s nearly
finished calling the old one,” said Singing Rock. “When all twenty-one of them
recite the summoning together, then the waters will open and you will see
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
.
Well, I hope you won’t. Neil, Harry, you’d better get in that pickup and burn
it on out of here. We’re not going to stand much of a chance now.”

“John,” said
Harry, “I’m not leaving you here.”

“You have to,”
insisted Singing Rock. “You’re no damned use to me anyway.”

“John-I’m not
going, and that’s final.” Singing Rock looked at Harry for a moment, and then
offered his hand. “All right,” he said, softly. “I appreciate your staying. But
don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Out on the
lake, a huge, cold fog was rising in the darkness, and the waters were gurgling
and seething in horrible anticipation. The earth cracked beneath their feet,
and the
temperature dropped lower and lower
with each
passing minute. Around them, police and reporters ran around in confusion. Only
on the bridge itself was there any calm at all, an eye in the storm, as
Misquamacus
began to make slow beckoning gestures toward
the lake, summoning
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
, the terrible elder god.

“I guess this
is almost our last chance,” said Singing Rock. “
Misquamacus
is really preoccupied now. It’s going to take all of his strength to
raise
up
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
without the help of
Ossadagowah
,
and all the strength of his friends as well. I’m going out there again.”

He opened up
his case and took out two war axes, each one decorated with scalps and
feathers.

Then he gave
Harry one last look, and made his way back through the barricades toward the
bridge.

Harry called:
“Take care, will you?” But he wasn’t sure if Singing Rock had heard him.

Now, hundreds
of feet above the churning surface of Lake
Berryessa
,
the grayish fog rose in the dim and terrifying shape of the elder god. It was
so dark that
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu’s
writhing form was scarcely visible, but as he strained
his eyes, Harry could see something that looked like a nest of wriggling,
repulsive serpents; something that disturbingly reminded him of every nightmare
he’d ever had. It was the raw essence of fear and repulsion; the loathsome
horror that crawled on the fringes of the night. It was the ancient lingering
memory that still makes men afraid of things that creep and things that slide,
even though they have consciously forgotten why. It was
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
, the spawn of the Great
Old One, the most hideous god of madness and fear.

All twenty-one
medicine men on the bridge had now raised their arms in obeisance to the elder
god, and were singing a low, warbling incantation. They stood in their
oweaoo
, their circle, and they drew the overwhelming fog
cloud nearer.

Singing Rock
reached the end of the bridge and stood there alone for a moment, swinging a
war ax in each hand. Then he whooped out a long challenging call, a mocking
call that ridiculed
Misquamacus
and every other
medicine man, a call that any Indian with any pride could not ignore. Harry
could see
Misquamacus
waver with indecision. But then
the wonder-worker turned and left the other twenty medicine men to continue
their call to
Ka
-
tua
-la-
hu
, who now loomed over them all in an immense boiling bank
of evil clouds, and he faced Singing Rock with an expression of burned-out
patience and deep revenge.