by Tad Williams
Only two of the manticores had survived that terrible night-the fungus had lured and destroyed two, and a third had apparently come too close to Mesta’s pen, only a bloody stump of tail left behind afterward to show what had happened. After they way the first one had attacked Ragnar and the rest of them at the gate, Tyler didn’t feel sorry for the manticores, but he was happy to know the last pair were back safe in their cage. They were rare, amazing things, there was no question about that-Tyler just didn’t ever want to see one again.
As Tyler surveyed the damage, Lucinda walked over to him, a baby amphisbaena looking around confusedly from the palm of her hand. At least, Tyler thought it was looking around, but it might also be waving its tail in the air: even near the end of their second summer it was hard to tell which end of an amphisbaena was which.
“How are Gideon and Mr. Walkwell this morning?” his sister asked.
“Sarah said Gideon’s better this morning. Eating a little. Talking. Making sense, even.” He reached out and stroked the little creature on its nearest end. It was the front, he could now see, although its implacable stare didn’t give much away. “I think I’m going to bring Grace down to him this afternoon. Mr. Walkwell’s a little better too, she said.”
Lucinda carefully put the lizard back into its cage. “Are you sure? He’s not very well.”
“This will make him feel better. Besides, we’re leaving soon.”
“It is too bad you cannot get advice from Simos first,” said Ragnar from a short distance away. “He is very wise, and he was here before I was-before any of us who came from the Fault Line. In fact, he is the only one of us who knew Gideon’s wife. Perhaps he knows something about the two of them that you do not, young Tyler Jenkins.”
“You know how much Gideon misses her,” Tyler said. “What could be better for him than having her back…?”
He was distracted by a sudden whoop of noise from Kiwa and Jeg. The two of them were chasing a hoop snake, which had got loose from its pen and was bowling across the floor just out of their reach, tail in its mouth as it rolled like a wheel. Alarmed, Zaza leaped from Tyler’s shoulder and flapped up into the upper reaches of the massive barn where she hovered, shrieking indignantly at them all.
“There he goes, over there, under the sprayer! Don’t hurt him!” shouted Ragnar, laughing as he went to help them. “But remember, he can give you a good nip!”
As the third herdsman and Haneb joined in the comic scene became even more frantic, Tyler turned to look for Lucinda. His sister was observing the chaos with all the joy of someone watching homework assignments being written on a blackboard. A moment later she turned and walked out of the barn.
“Luce!” he shouted, but she didn’t acknowledge him.
He didn’t hurry after her-it was too much fun watching everybody trying to catch the swiftly-rolling snake. The chase had excited and upset many of the other residents of the Reptile Barn, the basilisks hissing and the tiny cockatrices spattering the insides of their enclosures with venom, until even Meseret lifted her massive head above the edge of her pen to have a look. Zaza got so excited she peed on one of the Amigos from mid-air, which only added to the shouting.
Wow, thought Tyler, enjoying the chaos-j ust look at this crazy place! Is there anywhere cooler on the entire planet? And me and Lucinda saved it again!
Chapter 42
An Interrupted Moment
Colin Needle had walked around for two days with his head full of unpleasant thoughts, but no matter how he had considered things, no matter how he tried to explain them to himself, he couldn’t make the worst one go away.
Tyler Jenkins had been right -Colin’s mother had been the one who had made Gideon sick. And in trying to change Gideon’s will, or whatever she had been up to on the night of the storm (he was still piecing the story together) she had also used her son’s computer and the security system Colin had so painstakingly set up to let the manticores out, bringing deadly danger not only to the other residents of the farm, but to her own son.
But how could she do such a thing? Colin had always known his mother was difficult and temperamental, even knew that she had a cruel streak, but this was different. She had told him so many times that her excesses were on his behalf that he had believed it in the same way he believed rain was good for plants. Now his life seemed to have been twisted into a completely different shape, one that he had never seen before and had no idea of how to use.
As Colin reached the bottom of the stairs he met Caesar coming out of the kitchen with what looked like Gideon’s lunch, a tray with soup and bread and a sparkling white napkin rolled up and held in a silver ring. Colin nodded as Caesar went past, and Caesar nodded politely back, but suddenly Colin felt certain that there was something other than politeness in the old man’s dark brown eyes-contempt? Outright hatred, hidden only by his polished manners?
Little Pema was dusting the furniture in the entry hall, and she too nodded to Colin as he passed, but despite the demure, downward cast of her eyes he fancied he could see her shrink back as if she did not want even his shadow to touch her. He knew the kitchen women did not like him, but he had always supposed it was because of his bad temper or the way he sometimes spoke without thinking, dismissing things he felt were plainly stupid. But was it more? Was their dislike of his mother deeper than what most workers felt for unsympathetic managers-did they really hate and fear her? Did that mean they hated and feared Colin Needle as well?
These were new thoughts, quite new, and Colin didn’t know exactly what to do with them. For most of his life he had known that the other farm residents didn’t like the Needles, but he had managed to convince himself that much of it came from the dislike the weak always felt for the strong-his mother was nothing if not strong. Sometimes her strength even scared her own son. Why shouldn’t it make others nervous?
But one day while Gideon was still missing, Colin had found a few envelopes from the Madagascar crate near the old abandoned greenhouse and had wondered why his normally so-careful mother would bring those foreign seeds and spores to the garden, where the risk of them causing mischief in an entirely new environment was so great. Why wouldn’t she simply raise them under controlled conditions? Later, when Lucinda had been overwhelmed by the spores from the greenhouse, Colin had begun to be suspicious, but still hadn’t been able to make sense of it. When Lucinda told him what kind of spores they were and he thought about Gideon’s mysterious disappearance and return did it all begin to make a kind of terrible sense. It wasn’t her experiments with the exotic plants and fungi his mother had needed to hide away from the house’s inhabitants, it was who she had been experimenting on-Gideon Goldring himself. His mother must have been hiding the old man out in the garden. Somehow his mother, Patience Needle, had knocked Gideon out and dragged him to the greenhouse all by herself, only to have him escape on the Fourth of July.
Witch. It was a word that came up out of the darkest places inside Colin like a belch of foul gas from the bottom of a deep pool. His mother was a witch, and not the good kind. It wasn’t the first time he had heard it, or even the first time he had thought it himself, but it was the first time he had really let himself feel what it meant.
My mother is a witch.
Colin Needle had never felt so alone.
He stood in the shade of the porch, sweat dripping down his face and making his clothes stick to his skin. Although the storms had passed, the sky was just cloudy enough to make the day as close as it was hot. He was thinking he might go and look at Eliot the sea-serpent, whose silvery splashing sometimes gave Colin a feeling of freedom that very few other things did, when a movement in the distance caught his attention.
Lucinda Jenkins was walking slowly toward the farmhouse, trudging through the shadow cast by the tall grain silo that stood over the Fault Line. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her, didn’t know if he could think of anything to say, but she looked like she didn’t feel any better than he did, so at least he wouldn
’t have to try to make cheerful conversation. Colin knew he wasn’t very good at that.
He waved awkwardly as she climbed the steps to the porch. “Hi.”
She looked up at him and smiled, but he felt sure it was the same smile she would have given any stranger on the street. “Oh. Hi, Colin.”
She had paused for a moment but now she looked as though she was going to continue past him into the house. He suddenly didn’t want to be on his own again. “Ummm,” he said, as if it actually meant something. “Ummm. You… you want some lemonade? I think Sarah just made some.”
Lucinda looked at him again, more closely this time. After a couple of seconds she seemed to relax, although she still looked sad. “Yeah. Sure, that would be nice.”
“Just wait and I’ll go get it.”
When he came out again a few minutes later with two glasses she was sitting in one of the rocking chairs. He handed her one of the glasses and let himself down into the other one, careful not to spill. Just for once he didn’t want to do anything clumsy, didn’t want to embarrass himself.
“So… ” he said as she drank. “You’re going home tomorrow, huh?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I guess it’s just as well. Desta hates me.”
It took Colin a moment to put it all together. “Oh, the little dragon. Well, don’t feel too bad-they’ve always hated me.”
She gave him a slightly annoyed look. “You do know that’s your own fault, right, Colin?”
For a moment he wanted to argue, loudly if necessary-didn’t anyone understand that he was trying to make important things happen?-but just as suddenly as the need had filled him, it leaked out again. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ve certainly done my share of stupid things. Selfish things.”
She lifted an eyebrow. Lucinda Jenkins was really quite pretty, he noticed again. Not flashy like the oldest Carrillo girl, who dressed like someone you’d see on a teenage TV show, all jangly bracelets and complicated hairstyles, but very nice nonetheless, her hair straight and shiny, her serious face, so pale a few weeks ago, now quite tan. “You really mean that, Colin?” she asked. “Or are you trying to butter me up for something?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been… I don’t know. I’ve been wanting to talk to you. About a lot of things.” He suddenly realized that one of the things he wanted to tell her was that he liked her, liked her in a way that was different than with anyone else he knew, but starting that particular conversation seemed as terrifying as diving out of a moving airplane at night with a parachute that might or might not work. “Talk about what’s been going on here. About some of the things you said. Because some of them… some of them were right… ”
“What do you mean?” Her weariness had been set aside. She looked interested, even sympathetic, and for the first time since the night of the storm Colin felt as though things might not be as wretched as they seemed.
“Well… ” He hesitated, suddenly overwhelmed by all the thoughts in his head. What could he tell her? That he agreed his mother was dangerous-that he was beginning to be really frightened of her, not just in the old ways, but in entirely new ones? After all, Lucinda and her brother were leaving: it was Colin who would be stuck on the farm with all these people who already hated him. What if his mother found out what he had been thinking, these disloyal thoughts? What if she found out he had been talking to the Jenkins children about her?
On the other hand, what if he said nothing and next time something really bad happened…?
But before he could speak again, a shout rolled across the open spaces beyond the driveway. “Hey! Hey, Luce!”
It was Tyler Jenkins, jogging toward them, shirt untucked, baseball cap sideways, looking like the perfect model of a stupid American middle-schooler. Colin felt his insides twist with disappointment and resentment.
As he reached the porch Lucinda said, “Hi, Tyler.” Did Colin fancy he heard a little disappointment in her voice, too? If so, that almost made the intrusion worthwhile. “Hang on a second-I’m just talking to
… ”
At first, Tyler didn’t even look at him. “You should have seen it, Luce-it was totally epic! One of the hoop snakes got out, then Zaza got spooked and she got into Haneb’s hair, and he was screaming and jumping around trying to get her out… ” He slowed then stopped, staring at Colin. “What’s your problem, Needle? Can’t I talk to my own sister?”
Colin swallowed an angry reply. “Go on, Jenkins, say what you want to say. Nobody’s stopping you.”
“Really? You’re sure acting like you wish you could. Was I interrupting something?”
“None of your business.” He heard the sound of his own voice, cold and angry, and at that moment it was just how he wanted to sound.
“Tyler!” said Lucinda. “We were just talking. Don’t be a jerk.”
“What?” Her brother turned toward her, face red. “Why is it my fault? He’s the one sitting there looking like he wants to punch me
… ”
Colin stood up so abruptly the rocking chair’s skids squeaked on the porch boards. “Forget it! Just forget it! Enjoy yourself, you two. Really a pity you’ll be leaving tomorrow-it breaks my heart to think of it.”
And without even listening to what Lucinda Jenkins was saying-because what kind of fool had he been to think she would ever understand anyway?-Colin turned and banged through the door into the house. He almost knocked down little Pema as he stormed through the entry hall, heading for the stairs and the security of his own room, but the thought of apologizing to her never even crossed his mind.
Chapter 43
Saving Grace
“Are you still mad at me? Come on, I didn’t even do anything this time!”
That was mostly true-after all the fights her brother had picked with Colin Needle he hadn’t really been too bad this time-but Lucinda was frustrated at how close Colin had been to opening up to her.
“Don’t you get it? He was telling me that we were right about everything, stupid!” She bent to pick up Colin’s lemonade glass, abandoned on the porch.
“So? We were!”
“We could have had him on our side!”
Tyler made a disgusted face. “Like anyone would want him on their side!”
“Forget it. You’re impossible.” She carried the glasses into the house. The door to the Snake Parlor was closed, which probably meant Gideon was having a nap. He was supposed to be getting better. Lucinda hoped they’d get a chance to see him before they left.
As she rinsed the glasses in the kitchen she tried to figure out why Tyler crashing into the middle of the conversation like a runaway truck upset her so much. It wasn’t just because she and Tyler were going to leave tomorrow and things seemed even more confused than they had last year. It hadn’t even been because for a moment it had seemed like they had a chance to make Colin Needle an ally, although that would certainly make things a lot easier-Lucinda had a feeling the fight for Ordinary Farm was going to get really, really nasty before long. No, it was something else.
Colin had seemed almost… nice. That was what bothered her. He had been lost and confused and scared and looking for help and he had turned to Lucinda. She had seen something in him she had never seen before, the Colin that was separate from his crazy, scary mother, the Colin that was more than just a strange, nerdy kid who dressed badly and had been raised in a crazy place without any other kids around. For a moment she had thought she was seeing the real Colin… then Tyler had stomped in and the moment was lost-maybe forever…
Azinza swept into the kitchen with a tray full of crockery. “Gideon is feeling better and he’s going to talk to us!” she announced with great satisfaction. Pema and Sarah came in just behind her and the wide room was suddenly full of noise and movement.
“What? Who?” Lucinda realized she had been standing over the sink for several minutes, lost in thought.
“Gideon, girl! Caesar is giving him a bath and dressing him!”
Azinza put the tray down so hurriedly that the cups and bowls rattled. “Which means he will also be told your brother’s secret! A happy day! I will bring some flowers for his room.”
“Just a few!” said Sarah. “The parlor will be full of people. I don’t want anyone to knock over the good vases.” But the cook was clearly excited too. All the women had been helping take care of Grace up in Lucinda’s room and all of them were agog to see what would happen when Gideon and his long-lost wife were reunited.
“Whoa.” Lucinda felt a sudden pang of worry. For some reason, she just couldn’t imagine that Ragnar and Mrs. Needle would both stand quietly by without telling Gideon what had been going on during his illness. Ragnar would tell the truth, of course, but Mrs. Needle would have to lie, and then things would get very, very difficult…
“I have to go talk to my brother,” she said abruptly and headed for the door, leaving Sarah, Pema, and Azinza to look at each other in surprise.
It was a slightly weird scene upstairs, in what had been Lucinda’s room until the night of the storm: Grace was sitting on the bed with Ooola kneeling behind her, brushing Grace’s thin white hair. (The Ice Age girl, after a lifetime of bear-grease and tangles, had taken to clean hair and brushes with joy and would sit for hours happily tending the hair of the other women. Lucinda had been amused at how many times Ooola had asked Tyler to let her brush his hair as well, and how adamantly her brother had always refused.)
Tyler was pacing back and forth in the middle of the room like the producer of a Broadway show just before opening night. “What is it?” he asked. “Is Gideon up yet?”
