The White City (18 page)

Ray’s attention was jerked back to Sally as she told about Mother Salagi’s counsel and their discovery. “So this spike must be driven into the Machine?” Ray asked.

“Into its heart,” Sally said. “That’s what Mother Salagi and the seers said. Father’s paw is the ‘light to pierce the Dark,’ and it has to be driven into the Machine’s heart with the Nine Pound Hammer.”

“Where is John’s hammer now?” Li’l Bill asked.

“The handle was broken,” Jolie said. “But Conker fixed it, with a branch from the Wolf Tree.”

“Conker.” Li’l Bill gave a sad smile. “John’s son. I can hardly believe it. I remember when he was born. And now you dear ones have inherited our fight. It pains me that you all have to do so. If only John and I had known what was needed. If only we had destroyed the Magog the first time.”

“All things happen for a reason,” Quorl said. “You did not have the means to make the spike then. It is your powers
placed into the golden foot that have made the weapon to destroy the Machine. It is through your sacrifice that this is possible, Bill.”

He nodded grimly. “Yes. We are the wiser. But wisdom ain’t going to assure success. The dangers have multiplied since John’s death. And now Grevol is placing his new Machine at the very roots of the Great Tree. He’s killing it. And with it the Gloaming.”

Ray asked, “But if we destroy the Machine, the Tree will be healed, won’t it?”

Sally looked anxiously from her father to Quorl.

Li’l Bill’s gaze lingered on his hand and the scarred wrist where his other hand was missing. “No,” he replied. “Terrible choices lie ahead, children. Impossible obstacles. Darkness. Darkness is covering everything. The enemies must be stopped. The only one to stop the Magog and its servant is the one who has mastery over his own Darkness. You see? It must be the one who can stand against his own black clockworks.”

Ray suddenly remembered that Redfeather’s teacher, Water Spider, had said something similar to Ray before they had set off to Omphalosa. But before he could remember exactly what, Li’l Bill continued, “Unfortunately even if these enemies are destroyed, the Great Tree will still die. It has been corrupted at its roots. I saw it, and I only barely escaped. The Great Tree will fall, and humanity will fall with it, as some other evil will rise to take possession over us all.”

“But the Tree can be saved,” Quorl said, rising up on his front paws. “You said before that you knew how to heal the Tree. You said the sirens could—”

“Sirens?” Jolie said.

Li’l Bill’s face was pinched with pain, and he didn’t look up.

“It is your voice I have been hearing, Little Bill?” Jolie said.

He nodded. “The waters have a powerful connection between our world and the world of the Gloaming. I used the lake over yonder to summon the sirens.” He looked up at last at Jolie. Ray thought he saw fear welling in his father’s gray eyes. “I never imagined it would be you, Jolie.”

“My sisters heard your call too,” Jolie said. “They followed it and journeyed up the rivers until they met a Darkness. They could pass no farther and returned. Now they are ill. The Darkness has sickened them, as it did the people of Omphalosa.”

“No,” Li’l Bill said. “I didn’t mean … not for them …”

Jolie put a hand to his arm. “Fear not. My sister Cleoma brought waters from a siren well, with the hope that it would cure them.”

“And cure them it must,” Li’l Bill said. “For if they fall to the Darkness, they’ll become servants to the Gog. They would be drawn to him, needing the Darkness for their survival. Your sisters would be under his charge. And with them, his means of controlling mankind will be unstoppable.”

“What must be done?” Quorl asked. “How can the sirens heal the Great Tree?”

Li’l Bill looked at Jolie. “Only one of your sisters can save those that suffer at the Gog’s dark mechanization. Just as the waters Cleoma is bringing to the Terrebonne can save your sisters from the Darkness, it is the waters of a siren well that are needed to heal the Great Tree.”

“I know where Élodie’s Spring lies!” Jolie said urgently. “It is a great distance, but we could go there to take waters—”

Li’l Bill shook his head slowly. “A spring must be formed that touches the Great Tree where it is being corrupted. The spring can be in our world as a siren well that draws its powers from the Gloaming. The waters will cross. But it must be made where the Gog has carried his Machine across to the Gloaming. Only such a spring will have the power to save us.” Li’l Bill grew silent, his ghostly eyes lingering sadly on Jolie.

To anyone else her expression might have seemed impassive, but Ray could tell Jolie was deeply stricken by his father’s words, and he wasn’t sure why.

“What is it?” he asked. “I don’t understand. What are you saying, Father?”

Li’l Bill turned to Ray. “There is only one way to bring forth this siren spring.”

Jolie said, “My mother, Élodie, died out of her love for my father. Her place of death became the healing well that brought Conker back. To make a spring, a siren must give up her life for those she loves.”

“But it does not have to be you!” Ray said. “Another siren. Another might choose to sacrifice her life to save the Great Tree, to save us all. It doesn’t have to be you, Jolie!”

Jolie nodded, but whether she agreed with Ray or was quietly dismissing this possibility, he could not tell.

“The means of drawing forth this spring does not have to be decided now,” Quorl said. “For it would be without purpose if the Machine is not also destroyed.”

“Quorl is right,” Li’l Bill said. “You all have a role, and it will take more than courage and a good heart to face all that is to come. There is little left that I can do to help you. But there has been one thing, thanks to Sally. Come and see.”

They rose and followed Li’l Bill over to the lake, where a pair of tongs lay at the water’s edge. The lake’s surface was so smooth and black, it could have been polished stone. And it looked to Ray almost like a magic trick as his father dipped his hand in.

Li’l Bill reached around for something, saying, “Yes, it has cooled.”

“What is it?” Ray asked.

As Li’l Bill brought it out, Ray and the others had to avert their eyes momentarily from the bright golden beam. “The light that pierces the Dark,” Li’l Bill said.

Ray’s eyes adjusted to the brilliance and he saw it was a shaft of gold, long and thin and drawing to a sharp point like a spearhead. He could feel the presence, the familiar power in the object. “This was the rabbit’s foot, wasn’t it?” he said.

“And now it is the spike that can destroy the Machine,” Li’l Bill said. “It’s a terrible burden to have to give you, son. You have learned to take animal form. You can cross. So it is up to you to bring Conker into the Gloaming. You will have to hold the spike when Conker drives it into the Machine.”

“I’m not afraid, Father,” Ray said, although this was not entirely true. There were too many things to worry him to even hope that he could actually help destroy the Machine. “But Conker and the others are in Chicago. That’s halfway across the country. We don’t have horses anymore. How will we ever get to them?”

“We will have to cross onto the Great Tree,” Li’l Bill said.

“The branches that make the path back to the trunk are too brittle,” Quorl said. “It is impossible.”

“No. Not impossible,” Li’l Bill said. “I found a path that
led me here. We cannot reach Chicago on the Tree. Those branches would break. But we are in a region of the Gloaming far from the dying portions. I think I could get us as far as the trunk, with your help, Quorl.”

“And from the trunk we could climb down to where your pack guards the Wolf Tree’s base,” Jolie said.

“That’s still far to Chicago,” Ray said.

“I think it’s the best I can do,” Li’l Bill said. He looked at Quorl. “Can we do it?”

The rougarou lowered his scarred snout and gave a low growl. “We will have to be careful. It will be a dangerous journey.”

Li’l Bill led them back up to the tunnel, and after walking for some time in the dark, he said, “We should cross.”

Quorl said, “Hold on to my back.”

“Ray,” his father said. “You should practice carrying someone across. Can you do it again? Are you too weak still?”

“No, I can try,” Ray answered. He took out B’hoy’s feathers from the toby and found he could much more easily reach the state of mind to take crow form. As Quorl walked forward with Sally and Li’l Bill holding the fur at his shoulder, he disappeared in a bright burst. Ray circled and grasped Jolie’s shoulder with his talons.

They were on the enormous limb once more. Ray released Jolie and returned to his form, weak and a little dizzy but able to walk with Sally holding his hand. The limb was as wide as the roof of a house. Despite its size, the bough swayed, and at times they slowed as they heard deep, disquieting cracking through the howling wind.

Quorl and Li’l Bill stopped on occasion to anxiously discuss the route at precarious points, but each time, the limbs held true. Walking behind Jolie in the dark, Ray felt Sally squeeze his hand.

“Are you feeling okay?” she whispered.

He still felt weakened and a little nauseous, but he said, “I’m all right.”

“Are you angry with me?” Sally asked in a barely audible voice.

“Why would I be?” he answered.

“You told me to keep the rabbit’s foot safe at Shuckstack.”

“If you had done what I asked,” he said, “I’m not sure we ever would have found Father, and we wouldn’t have the spike. You found him, Sally. You’ve done a great thing.”

She put her hands around his waist and hugged him tightly as they walked.

“Is there something else troubling you?” he whispered.

“It’s just I’m so worried about Hethy,” she said.

“I’m sure she’s fine, Sally. Conker had healing water. He must have helped her.”

Sally sniffled, “I shouldn’t have left her behind. I should have trusted her. I wish I had brought her with me. I could have used her help when Quorl started changing. And, Ray. I, well … it’s just … I’ve done things I wish I hadn’t.”

“Like what?” Ray asked.

“I forced this poor old tinker to bring me all the way from Iowa to Nebraska.”

Ray chuckled. “How’d you manage that?”

“With one of those foot powder charms you told me about.”

“Not bad,” Ray said, still chuckling.

After a moment, Sally said, “I think I might have done something bad to Mister Nel.”

Ray felt a chill rise up his neck. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that charm I was reading about in the
Incunabula
?”

“You mean when I left?”

“The Elemental Rose,” Sally whispered. “It was a poem, and I thought I had figured it all out so I could give Mister Nel back his leg. It worked, and he has his powers back. And I was so glad, because I knew that meant I could save Father too. But there was a line in the poem I ignored. I didn’t understand.”

Ray frowned, waiting for Sally to finish.

“Mother Salagi said Nel’s leg would bring some danger to him. I didn’t understand at the time, but I’ve been thinking about it. And I think I know. Oh, I wish I had thought about it more before I did it, Ray. It was a warning, and I didn’t listen!”

Ray smoothed Sally’s curls. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’ll all be okay.”

But Ray felt Sally was right to be afraid for Nel. He remembered back to the night he found Jolie and Hethy during the battle at the Wolf Tree. That agent, just before he died, had laughed, saying the Gog knew about Shuckstack. How Shuckstack had been discovered, Ray couldn’t imagine. He had half hoped the agent had been bluffing. But now he felt a cold fear, that this must be the danger Mother Salagi had seen.

The Gog was coming for Nel. And if Nel was in danger, then so were the children of Shuckstack.

Hours seemed to pass, but to Ray it just as easily could have been days for all the endless walking in the howling dark. Soon the faint light of dawn began to illuminate their surroundings. Li’l Bill stopped. “We have reached the trunk of the Great Tree.”

Quorl was sniffing. “Yes, we can descend from here to my pack. I will lead us down.”

Ray looked over the edge of the branch. Below, wispy clouds drifted around the trunk, and far beyond, the prairie spread out in every direction.

With the golden light of dawn spilling over the land, Quorl led them in a circling path down the trunk. Descending, descending, down the strange stairway fashioned from the bark of the Wolf Tree. When they seemed a mile from the ground, Ray spied wolves—the rougarou—trotting around the roots and a girl he knew must be Hethy.

Jolie turned to Ray. “We still have a long way to go to Chicago, and even when we arrive, how will we ever find Conker?”

Ray considered this as they continued. Soon he stopped and took out the toby.

Jolie watched him as Quorl lead the others across a narrow chasm of bark. Ray took the dandelion in his fingers. He clapped his hands three times, blew three breaths on the yellow flower, and called out, “Peter Hobnob—Peter Hobnob—Peter Hobnob.”

Jolie gave a curious smile as the yellow eroded from the petals into gray wisps. The little seedpods drifted out into the prairie’s wind and disappeared to the east.