Greenmantle

by Charles de Lint

  “Just so.”

  “Why can’t you help the others?” she asked then. “Like the man with the dog that the hounds showed me. Why do there have to be bad things?”

  “I do try to help, but men will be what they must be; they reap what they sow.”

  “There’s more than one of you, isn’t there?”

  He nodded.

  “Is Mally one of you?”

  “No. She is of your world. As I come from that otherplace to here to touch your souls, she is of your world itself, from the earth and the forest and the moonlight on them. A little mystery.”

  “A secret,” Ali said. “Does she know what she is?”

  “Do you know what you are?”

  A dozen facile answers came to mind, but Ali shook her head. After what she’d learned tonight, she knew there was no easy answer to what she was. To what anyone was.

  “I wonder where she went,” Ali said finally. “When I was calling you, she was here with me, but then suddenly she was gone.”

  The horned man smiled. “Not she—you. You stepped sideways into another place when the hounds came—a place akin to that otherworld that I bore you to last night, but another elsewhere again. The world and Mally are still where they were.”

  “Then how…how do I get back?”

  He stepped closer to her, drew off his green cloak and laid it across her shoulders. The leaves rustled and she touched the edge of the cloak with wondering fingers.

  “I will send you back,” the horned man said. “Remember me. What I am, what I can be; what you are and what you can be.”

  He touched her brow, brushing the skin with his fingers. Ali blinked. She had the feeling that she was in an elevator, a quick lurch in her stomach. Then she was staring at the same tree, but the horned man was gone. She turned slowly to see the fire still burning and a figure beside it.

  “Mally…?” she started to say, then realized who it was. “’Lo, Lewis,” she said and smiled. She felt completely at peace, with herself, with the world.

  Lewis looked up quickly. He heard Mally’s familiar expression, but another’s voice. “Ali?” he asked.

  “It’s me, Lewis.” She fingered the cloak. The leaves were gone, the real ones at least, but by the light of the fire she could see that the cloak now appeared to be made of hundreds of pieces of cloth in the shapes of leaves, all sewn together. “I’ve had such a time,” she said. “I’ve been all the way there and back again—just like Bilbo.”

  Lewis didn’t catch the analogy, but he heard the dreamy quality in her voice. “Are you all right, Ali?” he asked.

  “I couldn’t be better. What are you doing here, Lewis? Where’s Mally? I’ve such things to tell you, but first I should see my mom and Tony so that they don’t worry about me. Boy, they’re not going to believe what I…”

  Her voice trailed off as she caught a look on Lewis’s face in the firelight.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked. “What happened?”

  Lewis pointed in the direction of Valenti’s house where a dull glow still showed. “I think there’s been some trouble,” he said softly.

  Ali’s good feelings washed away in a flood of worry. “Oh, God!” she cried and took a few little steps, but she was more worn out from the ordeal than she realized. She wavered and would have fallen if Lewis hadn’t caught her. “I’ve got to go to them,” she told him. “I’ve got to help.”

  Lewis helped her sit in front of the fire. “All we can do is wait and hope,” he said. “Mally’s gone to help them.” I hope, he thought. “You’re in no condition to go anywhere, never mind traipsing through the forest.”

  “But…”

  Lewis took her hand. “Tell me where you’ve been,” he said.

  Ali wanted to argue, but she didn’t have the energy. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “It…it’s hard to…explain….” she began. Her eyelids fluttered and then before she realized what was happening, she was asleep.

  Lewis eased her down so that her head was pillowed on his lap. He didn’t know where she’d come from, out of the blue as she had, nor what had really happened here tonight, but he knew that something had. Something important. A change that would affect them all. He’d just have to wait until Ali woke to find out, he thought as he stroked her hair.

  The poor child was worn right out. He would have taken her down to his cabin, but he didn’t think he had the strength left in him to make the descent—not carrying her as well. They would just have to stay here until Mally came back. He hoped she wouldn’t be long, but with all that was happening tonight, he wasn’t raising his hopes. Just so long as she did come back—that would satisfy him at this point.

  He let his chin rest against his chest and continued to stroke Ali’s hair. If he listened carefully, he found, he could hear the sound of Tommy’s pipes, though it was late for him to be playing them. The sound of them helped ease his worry. But only a little.

  10

  Earl dodged the UZI, but lost his grip on his .38 in doing so. The handgun fell in the grass by his feet. By the time he had it in his hands again and had turned back to Frankie, she was kneeling behind Valenti, her automatic pointed at him.

  “We already been here, Frankie,” he said. “Remember?”

  She stared at him, blinking back tears. Oh, she remembered. What Tony had shown her. What Earl meant to do to her. What he meant to do to Ali. He deserved to be shot. He deserved the worst that could happen to a human being.

  “You ain’t got it in you,” Earl said. His teeth gleamed mockingly as he grinned. “So put that thing down and let’s stop fucking around. You don’t need your knees to sign over that bread. Either you get rid of the gun, or I’ll blow ’em off, babe. Simple. Or maybe you’re gonna get brave and pull the trigger. Well, I got news for you, Frankie. People don’t just fold up and die when you shoot them. Look at your boyfriend, fercrissakes. He ain’t dead yet. Shoot me, and I’ll take you with me. But I don’t think you’re gonna shoot me, are you?”

  She wanted to. God, she wanted to. It was self-defense. Killing him would be so justified that half the world would get up and cheer if she did. But she couldn’t. Not because she didn’t have it in her, but because it would take her down to his level.

  She could care about Tony, even with all he’d done, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she killed another human being, no matter how justified. God help her, she wanted to. But if she did, he’d win. Either way, he won. If she was going to lose anyway, she would do it on her own terms.

  She brought her hand down and tossed the gun on the grass in front of Valenti. His eyes were open, and in the harsh light from the burning house, she could see approval in them. Somehow he knew what had gone through her and he respected her choice. The difference between him and Earl was that what Earl saw as her weakness, Tony knew to be her strength.

  “All right,” Earl said. “That’s playing it smart, Frankie. Come tomorrow morning when the banks open, we’ll get the bread and then I’ll be out of your life. It wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

  It was the hardest thing she had ever done, Frankie thought, but she knew he’d never understand.

  “What…what about Tony?” she asked.

  “We leave him.”

  “But he’ll die without help.”

  Earl nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, I know.”

  Frankie looked down at Valenti, but there was no recrimination in his eyes. “I couldn’t do it,” she said softly.

  “It…it’s…okay….”

  “Oh, Christ,” Earl said. “Why don’t we get out the fucking violins? C’mon, Frankie. We got to blow. Cops’ll be crawling all over this place. Maybe they’ll find your boyfriend in time… Maybe he’ll live long enough for them to take him to trial. They’ll lock him up and throw the fucking key away when they figure out who he really is. ’Course, maybe I’ll just…”

  He started to aim at Valenti’s head, when he heard something coming at them through
the bush to their left. Oh, Christ, Earl thought. It’s that fucking buck deer. He turned in that direction, aimed, but before he could fire, he heard a sharp report and something hit him in the side like a pile driver.

  “What the fuck…?” He looked stupidly down at his own gun, then slowly turned to Valenti and Frankie. Valenti fired his own .38 a second time. This time the bullet caught Earl square in the chest and lifted him off his feet before he slammed into the ground. He was dead before the impact.

  “Maybe you…couldn’t…do it…” Valenti said to Frankie as he let the weapon fall from his hand. He didn’t know where he’d gotten the strength to lift the thing. “But…but I could. I…I had to…Frankie. You understand…don’t…you…?”

  “Don’t talk,” Frankie said. “Oh, Jesus. Don’t move. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

  “You got…got to get out of here.” Valenti said.

  “He’s right.”

  Frankie turned at the sound of the new voice. In the light from the burning house she saw the wild girl, thin and dressed in tatters, her hair a tangle of knots and twigs and leaves. Protruding from just above her hairline were the two small horns that Frankie remembered so well. She’d made the noise that had distracted Earl.

  “Mally?” she said. She looked beyond Mally, hoping to see Ali, but the wild girl seemed to have come on her own. “You don’t understand. We’ve got to get him to a hospital.”

  Mally shook her head. In the distance they could hear a siren.

  “I don’t want you here when…when the cops come,” Valenti said. “Please, Frankie.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “You must,” Mally said. “And we’re taking him with us.”

  As the wild girl started for Valenti, Frankie blocked her way. “You don’t understand! He’s been shot. God knows what will happen to him if we move him. He’s lost so much blood already….”

  Mally regarded Valenti and saw that the fire in him was dying down, but still there. “The mystery’ll know what to do to help him,” she said. “And Lewis will help us.”

  The sound of sirens was drawing closer.

  Mally pushed Frankie aside. “I’m going to carry him,” she said.

  The strength in the wild girl’s arms when she pushed Frankie aside should have told her that it wasn’t such an impossible thing, but it wasn’t until Mally had gathered Valenti effortlessly up in her arms that Frankie realized that just maybe Mally could do it.

  “I’ll be going quicker than you,” Mally said. “Follow the path and it will take you to where we’re going. When you reach the stream, ignore what you think you see. Just take the stones across.”

  “But…”

  “The…guns…” Valenti said weakly from Mally’s arms. “Try and get…ours before the cops…before they come.”

  “But…” Frankie tried again.

  “Just follow the path,” Mally repeated, nodding with her head to where it began. Then the wild girl turned and the forest swallowed her.

  Frankie stared numbly through the trees but couldn’t see anything. She couldn’t hear anything, either. Just the crackle of flames and the siren that was now coming up Tony’s road. She took a deep, steadying breath and started to gather the weapons.

  She slung the UZI over one shoulder, put the automatic back in its holster, Valenti’s .38 in her pocket, counting the weapons to herself as she did it. Something was missing. Then she remembered the crossbow and fetched that. She was just entering the forest when the Ontario Provincial Police cruiser pulled up in front of what was left of Tony’s house. By the time the OPP officers made their way cautiously around to the back of the house, she was gone as well.

  She never once looked at Earl after Tony had shot him. She didn’t even think about him.

  * * *

  Lewis lifted his head as the sound of Tommy’s piping changed. The music grew bolder, more insistent. Almost as though it were summoning them. Ali stirred and sat up, rubbing her eyes. She heard it, too.

  “We’ve got to go,” she said. “To the stone. He’s calling us this time.”

  Lewis nodded. He got slowly to his feet, joints aching. He used Valenti’s walking stick for leverage. Ali let him keep it as they made their way down the hill, through the trees and then the bushes up behind the old stone. The music had grown louder, but it was no longer so insistent. Whatever possessed Tommy knew they were coming. As they stepped into the glade the piping quieted to a murmur.

  “’Lo, Ali…Lewis.”

  Mally was waiting for them. By her feet lay Valenti’s still form.

  “He needs help,” the wild girl said. “I thought Old Hornie would help him, but he’s just sitting there in Tommy’s eyes, not doing anything. Will you help, Lewis?”

  Lewis nodded. He knelt down beside Valenti, but the light was too poor for him to see what needed to be done.

  “We’ll have to get him to my cabin,” he said, but Mally shook her head.

  “He’s got to stay here,” she explained. “Old Hornie’s all that’s letting him hang on. Tell me what you need and I’ll go get it.”

  “Well, a lantern for starters. Hot water. Clean cloth. We’ll also need…”

  As he listed off the items, Ali shut him off. She went down on her knees beside Valenti and smoothed his brow with her hand.

  “My mom?” she asked Mally, interrupting Lewis.

  “She’s fine,” Mally said. “She’ll be along soon.”

  Ali nodded and went back to stroking Valenti’s brow. “Don’t die, Tony, I’ve got so much to tell you. I’ve talked to him—to the mystery.”

  His eyelids fluttered and he looked up at her, trying to smile. “Th-that’s sen-sensational….”

  “Aw, jeez. What did you have to get hurt for?”

  “It wasn’t…wasn’t my idea….”

  “That’s what you say. Is it over now?”

  “I…I think so. Depends on how…on how Mario did…”

  Ali laid a finger against his lips. “You’d better not talk.”

  She looked over to Lewis and saw that Mally was already gone. By the old stone, Tommy continued to play.

  * * *

  The music kept getting louder, helping Frankie keep to the path. She had one bad moment at the stepping stones, but she remembered what Mally had said and forged across. By the time she reached the glade, it was well lit by one of Lewis’s lamps. She saw Mally and her daughter talking. A strange-looking boy was sitting by a tall stone, playing the pipes that were the source of the music. A dog lay by his knee. And then there was Tony, lying there, his shirt off. An old man was just tying off a bandage. Tony looked so pale in the light of the lamp that her heart gave a lurch.

  “Mom!”

  Ali had caught sight of her. Frankie let the weapons fall to the ground and drew her daughter into her arms. This was what mattered, she realized. It was for this that she hadn’t let herself fall into the trap of doing things Earl’s way.

  “Thank God you’re okay,” she murmured into Ali’s ear.

  “Let’s thank ourselves,” Ali said. “We’re the ones that did it.”

  Frankie hugged her tighter.

  Epilogue

  Et in Arcadia ego.

  [I too am in Arcadia.]

  —Inscription on a tomb in a

  painting by Guercino (C.1623)

  Only to the white man was nature a

  “wilderness” and only to him was

  the land “infested” with“wild”

  animals and “savage” people.

  To us it was tame. Earth was bountiful

  and we were surrounded with the

  blessings of the Great Mystery.

  —Luther Standing Bear,

  from Land of the Spotted Eagle

  In the early hours before the sun rose, Ali sat outside Lewis’s cabin. Lewis and her mother were inside, Lewis sitting at his kitchen table, half asleep, her mother sitting beside Tony, holding his hand and talking to him, though he couldn’t hear her.
He had passed out when Lewis began working on him, but though his breathing was ragged, he was still alive. Ali liked seeing them together, Tony and her mother.

  “’Lo, Ali.”

  She turned to find Mally standing by the corner of the cabin. The wild girl dug about in the pocket of her oversized jacket and came up with a paperback book that she gave to Ali.

  “This is for you.”

  Ali held it up in the light coming from the cabin door. It was a copy of Thomas Burnett Swann’s Wolfwinter.

  “Jeez,” she said. “How’d you know I was looking for a copy of this…” Her voice trailed off as she realized that the only reason it had been missing in the first place must have been because Mally had “found” it earlier. “Thanks,” she said.

  Mally sat down beside her. “You talked to the mystery, didn’t you?” she said.

  Ali nodded.

  “I talked to him, too,” Mally said. “I never even knew he could talk. What did he say to you? Did you ask him if he wanted to be free?”

  “He said that he already is.”

  “Then why does he stay here? Why does he let the hounds chase him?”

  “I don’t know,” Ali said. “Maybe because he’s not really free at the same time.” She turned to look at the wild girl. “He’s not really the mystery, Mally. He’s just a part of a bigger mystery.”

  Mally nodded. “That other place.”

  “That place,” Ali agreed, “but here, too. The mystery that’s here, in this world—he’s a part of it, too. There’s more than one of him.”

  “I wonder why,” Mally said.

  “Everything doesn’t have to be explained,” Ali said.

  Mally looked at her and a broad smile settled on her face.

  Frankie had come to stand in the doorway and caught most of their conversation. The ordeal of the past few days rose in her mind, but then she looked out at the forest and thought of it, of that glade with the old stone that she’d glimpsed only so briefly, of the village and Lewis, of Tony. At that moment, from the forest, from the glade and the standing stone, the soft sound of piping drifted to them.