Deathstalker War (41 page)

Toys plunged into the River and swam over to the ship. There were teddy bears and shape-changing adaptors and dolls of all kinds. The Sea Goat appeared with a barrel of oil, and emptied it over the side. It floated on the surface of the water, thick and glossy. The Goat ignited it with a thrown torch, and flames sprang up around the ship. Toys caught in the blazing oil screamed as the flames consumed them. But many more made it to the side of the steamer, and surged up the holed hull and over the guardrails. Finlay and Giles met them with flashing swords, and the Goat was there with his club, but they were so few, and there were so many enemies, crazed to kill humans. Toby and Flynn came to add their swords, and Poogie and Bruin Bear left their fire fighting and came to help with savage claws and vicious jaws. And even in the midst of the war, the Bear still had time to be appalled at how easy it was becoming for him to fight and kill. And Halloweenie, the Li’l Skeleton Boy, picked up a fallen sword and threw away the last of his innocence to join the battle, too.

They fought together, human and toy, not knowing who they fought or why, against an army of toys fired by Shub’s imperatives, while flames roared around them. The ship was screaming constantly now. The bridge exploded as it took a direct hit, and the lifeless body of the Captain was thrown through a window, his blackened form hitting the deck hard, to lie still and smoking and unnoticed. The ship began to drift off course, heading for the left-hand bank.

Finlay found himself fighting back-to-back with Giles. Their swords had scattered dead toys across the deck, around them and underfoot, but still more pressed forward from every side. The air was full of almost human screams and bestial roaring from the attackers. The Campbell and the Deathstalker were fighting at the peak of their abilities, and nothing could get near them, but they both knew they couldn’t hold out indefinitely against such overwhelming odds.

“Things look bad,” said Giles casually, over his shoulder.

“More than bad,” Finlay said breathlessly, as he cut down a slavering wolf in a woodsman’s uniform. “We’ll need a miracle to get out of this one.”

“My thoughts entirely,” said Giles. “The same miracle I used to save us last time.”

It only took a moment for Finlay to understand. “No! Not again! It would kill him!”

There was a sharp crack of thunder behind him, and a clap of air rushing in to fill the space where the Deathstalker had been. Finlay knew where he’d teleported to. He fought his way through the crush to reach Julian’s cabin. He kicked the door in and rushed in. Giles had dragged Julian to his feet, and was holding the esper up with one hand, while he used the other to fend off Evangeline. Finlay drew his disrupter and pointed it at Giles.

“Not again, Deathstalker. Not again.”

“Either he calls up a psistorm, or we’re all dead,” said Giles reasonably. “Which is more important—one already dying esper, or our lives and our mission?” They all staggered a moment as another explosion shook the ship. Giles smiled humorlessly. “Make up your mind, Campbell. We’re running out of time.”

“He’s my friend,” said Finlay. “I didn’t rescue him from Hell just to let you kill him. I’ll kill you first, Giles.” The gun was very steady in his hand.

“You’ve got power, Giles,” Evangeline said desperately. “The Maze made you different, stronger, powerful. Use that power to save us.”

“I can’t,” said Giles. “I could teleport myself out of here, but I couldn’t take any of you with me. And without the ship, how could we even reach the Forest?”

“You need power?” said Julian thickly. “I’ll give you power, Deathstalker.”

The esper grabbed his captor by the chin, and turned his head around so they were staring into each other’s eyes. Power surged up in Julian as he called on all his reserves. He could feel things breaking and tearing inside him, and didn’t care. His mouth stretched in a mirthless grin, and blood seeped between his teeth and dripped off his chin. Julian Skye focused his esp and hammered it right into Giles’s head. For a moment Giles thought he was staring into the sun, brilliant and overpowering. Julian’s strength was fueled by his last dying energies, and he used it all to reach out and meld his power with that of Giles, slamming them together so that they mixed and merged. Giles and Julian screamed together, and then Giles teleported, and took the whole ship with him.

Air rushed in to fill the great gap where the paddle steamer had been, and then there was only the River, burning here and there, with dead toys floating facedown in it. The toys forgot the ship and returned to the war, and the slaughter went on as always.

The Merry Mrs. Trusspot reappeared about half a mile farther up the River. Great waves splashed up on either side of her as she settled, drenching half her fires and putting them out. Giles and Julian and Finlay came storming out of the cabin and tore into the remaining enemy toys, cutting them down in hardly any time at all. They threw the bodies overboard, and for the first time a silence fell across the deck. Toby lowered his sword and smiled tiredly.

“Now that is what I call a miracle. I didn’t know you could do that, Deathstalker.”

“Neither did I,” said Giles. “And I don’t think I’ll be doing it again anytime soon.” He looked at Julian, standing strong and sure before him. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Damned if I know,” Julian said cheerfully. “My best guess is that when we joined, I was able to draw on your power to heal myself. You’re capable of a lot more than you realize, Deathstalker.”

“You look a lot better,” said Finlay. “Hell, you look human again. How do you feel?”

“Perfect in every detail,” said Julian. “I’m back to how I was before the Empire found me. I’m cured, people. Feel free to shout Hallelujah!”

“Keep the noise down,” said the Sea Goat. “We didn’t all make it through.”

He gestured to the other end of the deck, where Halloweenie was kneeling beside the scorched and blackened body of the Captain.

“Damn,” said Toby. “Now who’s going to steer the ship?”

They pressed on into the afternoon, leaving the war behind them. Down-River lay the Forest, and the Red Man, and even the dark necessities of battle couldn’t push the warring toys any closer than they were. All that lay between the paddle steamer and its destination now was time, and the pondering of mysteries. The humans polished their swords. The toys huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. Halloweenie manned the wheel on the bridge, standing on a box. He watched the River, and had nothing to say. The humans had thrown what was left of the Captain into the River, the nearest they could get to a burial at sea. They never did find his parrot. The damaged Merry Mrs. Trusspot chugged steadily on, silent again, her great eyes wide-open and watchful.

They saw the Forest long before they reached it. It appeared ahead of them like a huge dark stain on the horizon, into which the River was inevitably carrying them. The humans and the toys gathered together at the bow, eyes fixed on the end of their journey, old differences forgotten in the face of the unknown. The Forest was upon them with increasing speed, and soon they could all make out the first great trees of the boundary, and the narrow opening through which the River flowed. The paddle steamer slowed, as though offering one last chance to turn back, and then she sounded her whistle defiantly, chugged bravely forward into the narrow gap, and entered the Forest.

It was a dark and primal place, with trees so huge they had to be hundreds of years old. They were tall and vast and threatening, a reminder of a time when Humanity lived by the Forest’s grace and was just a part of its slow primordial pulse. The heavy branches were thick with foliage, interlocked together high overhead in a canopy that blocked out most of the sunlight. Heading into the Forest, the humans and the toys left the day behind, and became a part of the endless twilight.

No one had ever been meant to play here. There was no comfort or security to be found in the great Forest. The place of the trees was wild and free and untamed, and man entered at his own risk. The tall trees stood close together, wide and wrinkled, their leaves a dark, bitter green. The air was thick with the scent of earth and sap and living things. The paddle steamer moved slowly, surely, down the River, branches occasionally trailing on the roof of the bridge. It was like moving through an endless evening, grey and solemn and eerily quiet, a vast living Cathedral of ancient wood.

And so they passed out of the world of toys and into the great green dream of olden days, sailing down a dark River in search of a mystery and an enigma—the lost soul called the Red Man. And the army he had gathered around him for his own, unknown, purposes.

They say he’s crazy. They say he wants to destroy the world . . .

Finlay and Giles had their disrupters in their hands, ready for use at a moment’s notice. Julian and Evangeline stood together at the guardrail, feeling somehow small and insignificant in such a place of giants. Flynn was going crazy trying to get it all on film, but for once in his life Toby felt too intimidated by the dark glory around him to offer any commentary. Poogie, the Bear, and the Goat stood close together, drawing strength from each other. Alone on the bridge, Halloweenie stared into the gloom ahead like a bird hypnotized by a snake.

The endless quiet had a strength of its own. No one felt like breaking it with idle chatter. There were no sounds of bird or beast or insect, just the steady chugging of the ship’s engines. The never-ending hush had an expectant quality, as though at any moment some great voice might begin speaking, to which all living things must listen. So both the humans and the toys were all listening hard when the first piercing notes came tumbling out of the dark toward them.

The song came first, a bright, vibrant melody, joyous and free. And then came the singers, tiny glowing winged sprites, flying through the trees like tiny stars come down to earth. There were crowds of them, bustling and animated, breaking over the ship like a wave of light, swooping and soaring all around the paddle steamer, but never, ever, coming too close. The humans and the toys watched with wide eyes and wider smiles, touched by unexpected joy in a dark place. The sprites were human in shape, but only a foot or so long, with great, pastel-colored wings. They shone with a brilliant inner light, dazzling and vivid, luminous beings, like living moonlight.

And they sang, singly and together, high delicate tones of rippling arpeggios and endless harmonies, a choir of angels on the wing, a sound so pure and beautiful it broke the heart to hear it. It was the Forest given voice, a place and a mood and a meaning wrapped up in song. Everyone on the ship felt that they were on the brink of answers to every question that ever really mattered. And then suddenly the sprites were gone, surging away into the Forest, their song dying away in the gloom and the distance.

“What the hell was that?” said Toby finally, after they were all gone. “And did you get it on film, Flynn?”

“Don’t ask me,” said Flynn. “The camera was running, but I was away with the fairies. Weren’t they beautiful?”

“Marvelous,” said Finlay. “But what are they doing here? What is this Forest doing here, on Shannon’s World? This was never intended as a place for children. Hell, I’m not sure if I’m ready for it at my age.”

“Could it be real?” said Julian. “Something original to the planet? It looks old, even ancient.”

“No,” said Evangeline. “This planet was a lifeless rock before Shannon had it terraformed. Everything here is his.”

“Then why did he build this?” said Giles. “What’s its purpose?”

“It was to be his next project,” said Poogie, and they all turned to look at him. The cartoony figure didn’t look around. His voice was calm, certain. “Shannon’s purpose had always been to reach the soul of Humanity, to heal its wounds. Summerland was just the first step. A place for children of all ages to find peace and comfort. The Forest was to be the next step. A place men and women could disappear into for as long as they needed, to find their spiritual roots and grow strong and sure again.

“Once the Forest was completed, Shannon walked into it and never came out. He’s still in there, somewhere, if he’s still alive. That’s why Harker chose this place for his retreat. This is a place of rebirth. The rebirth of the soul of Shannon’s World.”

“Wait a minute,” said Bruin Bear. “How do you know why Harker chose this place?”

“Because I’m one of his people,” said Poogie, turning round at last to face them with his large, knowing eyes. “I’m going to lead you right to him.”

They all questioned him for some time, but he just shook his head, and said Harker would answer all their questions soon enough. The Goat was furious at being deceived, and even threatened Poogie with his club, but the Bear made him back off. Nothing had really changed in their mission, and if the Friendly Critter could lead them directly to Harker, so much the better. The Goat subsided, muttering, but wouldn’t put his club away. Poogie stood alone at the tip of the bow, looking eagerly up River. The humans talked quietly among themselves. Giles said he’d never trusted the toy anyway. Finlay pointed out that one rogue toy was hardly any danger to them. But only Evangeline spotted the real implications of Poogie’s revelation, that Harker knew they were coming.

They pressed on through the twilight. After a while, they began to hear drums beating up ahead, like the slow heartbeat of a sleeping giant. Or perhaps even the heartbeat of the Forest itself. There were traces of smoke in the air, sharp and spicy. The feeling of being watched by unseen eyes became increasingly powerful, causing the humans and the toys to huddle together in the ship’s bow, weapons at the ready. The humans were thinking less about their mission to get important tactical information from Harker, and more about how they were going to survive a meeting with the dreaded Red Man and his army. From whose territory no traveler had ever returned before. The drums grew louder and more threatening.

“He’s a great man,” said Poogie, almost dreamily, from where he stood alone. “Not easy to understand, sometimes, but still a man of great wisdom. We belong to him, heart and soul. We would die for the Red Man. He will lead us all out of the darkness, put an end to the war, change the face of this world beyond recognition.”