The Wolf Tree

by John Claude Bemis

  “Yes,” Jolie said. “The rougarou have helped Conker restore the hammer.”

  “Then Conker can destroy the Machine,” Redfeather said. “We can stop it at last. I’m glad we found you again, Ray. You have Marisol to thank. She found your tracks, and we followed you.”

  Marisol dropped her gaze. “Javidos found them. He’s the one to thank.”

  “I think you’re becoming a Rambler,” Redfeather said.

  Marisol smiled, her eyes falling briefly on Jolie and then turning to Ray. “What do we do now?”

  Ray looked down where the last of the gunfire sounded from the retreating agents. The Hoarhound was following the steamcoach, but the rougarou were no longer pursuing. Ray turned, thinking of a plan.

  “We have to act quickly,” Ray said. “The Bowlers will keep hunting for Sally, and she’s on foot. They will catch her with that steamcoach.”

  “She is not on foot,” Jolie said. “She has a guardian. A rougarou. He is protecting her, and if she is riding on him, they will not be easy to catch.”

  “With that Hoarhound, they might still catch her. We have to reach her first.”

  Redfeather took Atsila’s reins and led her over. “There’s that Bowler’s horse over there. Can you ride it?”

  Ray nodded.

  “What about Hethy?” Jolie asked. “We must get her back to my waters. They will heal her.”

  Ray put her in Redfeather’s arms. “Take her to Conker. Tell him to give her the siren water. I fear it’s too late, but there’s nothing else to do.”

  “What do we do then?” Redfeather asked.

  “Go with Conker. Go to Chicago. We’ll meet you there after we’ve found Sally.”

  Marisol clutched Ray in an embrace and then hugged Jolie before climbing onto Atsila’s back.

  Redfeather lifted Hethy up to Marisol and then nodded to Ray and Jolie as he climbed into the saddle in front of Marisol. “Be safe, my friends,” he called.

  “You too,” Ray said.

  They watched as Marisol and Redfeather rode out into the darkness.

  25

  EAST AND WEST

  THE FAINT LIGHT OF PREDAWN HUNG OVER THE SKY. Conker sat next to Si, wiping at her temple with a wet rag. Si stirred and opened her eyes.

  She smiled painfully up at him. “You’re here? You’re really here?”

  “You think it was a dream?”

  “I wasn’t sure…. Most of what’s happened seemed a nightmare. My hand!”

  She lifted her hand. It was wrapped thickly in bandages and throbbed so terribly that tears sprang to her eyes. “How … how is it?”

  “It’s wounded. Awful bad, Si. But I gave you some waters from a siren well. They’ll heal you.”

  Si winced sickly. “What about the—”

  “I don’t know about the tattoo. All that matters is that you’re okay.”

  Si pulled her hand against her stomach and rolled over on her side, crying softly. Conker ran his large hand softly over and over against her hair.

  “Where’s Buck?” she whispered after a time.

  “He took him.”

  “The Hammer?”

  “He took it also.”

  She sat up, her eyes ferocious. “We’ll find Stacker Lee. We’ll save Buck and get the Hammer back too.”

  Conker nodded. “Yes. We will.” He did not want to tell her yet about Stacker’s strange parting words. Si was tired. She needed to rest.

  “Conker,” Si said.

  “Yes.”

  “I think I’ve done something terrible.”

  “You need to rest, Si. Don’t trouble your—”

  “Listen! I tried to tell you when Stacker had me. There was a prophecy. About me. This seer who knows Mother Salagi told me that I would come to a crossroads. I would have to make a choice. One way was doom. Not just for me or for you but for all mankind. And the other way, there was something good. She said the choice would require a great sacrifice.”

  She cringed, but Conker could not tell if it was her hand or what she was about to say that pained her.

  “When Stacker used me to get the Nine Pound Hammer. That was my crossroads. I wasn’t supposed to let you give it to him. I was supposed to sacrifice myself, so you could have the Hammer.”

  Conker put his hand to her cheek. “No, Si. That ain’t it.”

  “It was, Conker! I’ve brought danger to us all.”

  “But it weren’t your choice. It was mine. I gave Stacker the Nine Pound Hammer, not you.”

  “But what about the prophecy?”

  “I don’t give much thought to such matters. But if it’s true, that weren’t your crossroads. You ain’t got there. Not yet.”

  Si looked at him for a long time, and something like acceptance came over her face. She took his hand and pulled it close to her as she closed her eyes.

  Dawn was breaking when Conker saw the rougarou return. So few! Only seven survived, and three of them carried the bodies of men and women, rougarou returned to their true form—if only now in death.

  Conker was glad to see Mangoron was still alive. The rougarou limped over to him.

  “Who is the girl?”

  “An old friend.”

  “She is injured?”

  “Yes. But she’s healing. I’m sorry for your losses, and sorry to tell you that Coer died.”

  “How? I saw none of the men leave the battlefield.”

  “It wasn’t them Bowlers.” Conker told him about Stacker Lee and how he took the Nine Pound Hammer.

  “This is dire news,” Mangoron said when Conker had finished. “The Great Tree depends on you as well as your father’s hammer. We—”

  But there were growls from over at the rest of the pack. Conker stood, ready to fight if the agents had returned. But it was not Bowlers. It was a young man and woman—both seemed to be Indian—on a horse. Renamex, injured as she was, snarled and led the others to surround the two.

  Si rose and grabbed Conker’s arm. “It’s Redfeather and Marisol.”

  “They are friends!” Conker shouted as he ran toward the pack. “Do not harm them. Let them approach.”

  Renamex ordered her pack back, her eyes cautiously following Conker and the two strangers.

  “Conker,” Marisol said, dismounting the horse. She embraced him. “I could hardly believe Jolie when she said you were alive. And Si, you’re here too?”

  Conker’s smile failed as he watched Redfeather slide off his horse with Hethy in his arms. “It can’t be,” Conker whispered. “The girl. Hethy. What happened?”

  “She is dying from the Darkness. She might still be saved. Jolie said there were waters.”

  “Bring her over here,” Conker said, running ahead of them to get the waterskins.

  As Redfeather laid Hethy on the ground by the campfire, Conker cupped a hand beneath her head and poured a thin trickle into Hethy’s mouth. He tilted her head up, staring at the black blood caked to her lips.

  Redfeather knelt over him. “A man came to Shuckstack, dying from this Darkness. Nel could do nothing to—”

  Hethy’s lips closed and she swallowed.

  “Give her more!” Si said.

  Conker put the skin to Hethy’s lips and spilt a little more of the siren waters into her mouth. As she swallowed, she frowned and opened her eyes a fraction.

  “Conker,” she whispered, giving a slight cough.

  “You’re all right, girl,” he said. “You’re going to be all right.”

  They huddled around Hethy, watching over her. Soon the ashen color began to fade from her skin, and as it did, Hethy’s wrenched face relaxed as she slept.

  Conker looked up at Redfeather, who was staring at the rougarou. “Where is Jolie? Why didn’t she come back with you?”

  “She left with Ray—” Redfeather began.

  “Ray!” Conker gasped. “Where is he?”

  “He and Jolie have left to find Sally.”

  Conker scowled with confusion. “Sally? Ray’s sister?”
<
br />   “She’s why Buck and I are out here,” Si said. “She ran away from Shuckstack with the rabbit’s foot and we were following her. Until Stacker captured us.”

  “Well, she still has the rabbit’s foot, at least,” Marisol said. “But the Bowlers are pursuing her. Their Hoarhound is drawn to the foot.”

  “They can’t …” Si frowned. “If the Bowlers get the rabbit’s foot, all is lost.”

  “Why?” Conker asked.

  “Mother Salagi discovered something about Li’l Bill. It’s why your father did not defeat the Gog. You need not only the Nine Pound Hammer but a spike as well. A spike only Li’l Bill can make. If he doesn’t make it, the Machine can’t be destroyed. Sally needs the rabbit’s foot to save her father.”

  “If they catch her before Ray does, then all will fail,” Conker said. “Catching Stacker and getting back the Hammer won’t matter then.”

  Redfeather looked curiously at him. Before Conker could explain to him who Stacker was, Renamex approached.

  “We are going to bury our dead.”

  Redfeather came anxiously toward the black rougarou. “Has the Wolf Tree been found? We’ve been seeking it, but I cannot see it.”

  Renamex studied Redfeather a moment. “Why have you sought the Great Tree?”

  “Water Spider, of the Western Cherokee, sent us. He met you before—”

  “Yes,” Renamex said, her canine mouth curling. “I remember Water Spider.”

  “He sent us to find out why the Wolf Tree has been lost. Have you found it? Is the pathway to the next world open?”

  “The Tree is dying. The Darkness must be stopped before we can discover what will heal it. But yes, the Great Tree has been found once more. Look, young one. Look behind you.”

  Redfeather turned, leaning his head back as the glowing tower took form before his eyes. Marisol stepped to his side and clutched his hand. “Water Spider,” Redfeather said. “He was right.”

  Marisol nodded and whispered, “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes. It is.” Redfeather squeezed her hand.

  With the morning sun warming the prairie, four holes were dug in the earth at the roots of the Wolf Tree. All but Conker gathered as the fallen rougarou were buried. He watched over Hethy. But Conker listened as Renamex and the pack sang in lonesome howling tones.

  Hethy opened her eyes and looked up at him. “What they saying?” she asked.

  “I don’t know the words,” he replied. “But I expect she’s blessing the dead.”

  She shifted and tried to sit up, but Conker said, “Rest, girl.”

  Hethy lay back. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  “The rougarou will care for you. You have more healing to do, but I reckon whatever ill hold that Darkness had over you is passing.”

  “Are you leaving?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you coming back?”

  Conker saw Mangoron trotting toward them. “I don’t know. I don’t know what will happen to us. But you are safe here. Go on. Rest.”

  She gave him a faint smile and closed her eyes again.

  Mangoron lay down by Hethy. Conker nodded to him as he rose and left to join his friends.

  After bidding their farewells, the other rougarou set out to bury the dead Bowlers on the battlefield, along with Stacker’s men, Hardy and Alston. Conker, Si, Redfeather, and Marisol began packing food and their meager supplies to depart.

  “What are we going to do about Nel?” Redfeather asked Marisol.

  “What about Nel?” Si asked.

  “The Gog has not been killed. And he’s learned that Nel is at Shuckstack.”

  “That’s the danger!” Si said, terror welling in her expression. “The seer warned that something was seeking him. Grevol! How can Nel alone ever protect the children against him?”

  “Then let’s waste no more time,” Conker said. He put Jolie’s shell knife in his belt and threw the remaining waterskin from the siren well over his shoulder.

  “There’s a town about forty or fifty miles to the east of here,” Si said. “Stacker kept his distance from it, but I remember seeing it. Redfeather, you and Marisol ride there as fast as you can. Find a telegraph office. Send a wire to Missus Maynard. She’ll get it delivered to Nel. Conker and I will meet you.”

  Redfeather was already untying Atsila’s reins. He leaped to her back, and Marisol swung on behind him.

  “We’ll see you there in a few days,” Redfeather called.

  “Ride,” Conker said.

  Redfeather cast one final glance back at the Wolf Tree. Then Atsila’s hooves kicked up loose clods of earth as she sped across the prairie.

  Conker looked down at Si. She held her hand gingerly to her stomach, but her face showed no pain. She was so courageous, Conker thought. And they were together again. He did not know what the seer had meant about Si’s crossroads, but he hoped he would be with her when she reached them. He hoped never to leave her side again.

  Si cocked an eyebrow. “I’d say we should ask one of the rougarou to carry us, but you’re far too big.”

  Conker smiled. “I can walk fast. Can you keep up?”

  “Have I ever not?” she asked. “You ready?”

  “Whenever you are.”

  “Let’s go.”

  The sun blazed over the rustling prairie in a brilliant blue and cloudless sky. The middle of the enormous country—where the Wolf Tree stood dying—was nearly empty. But small bands of travelers, hunters and hunted, were radiating east and west.

  Four began their journey eastward, following Stacker Lee toward the grim and dirty industrial city of Chicago. A city where a multitude was descending to see the spectacle and promise of a better future that was the Columbian Exposition.

  Westward, on the back of Sokal’s horse, Ray and Jolie pursued Sally. The evergreen-crested Black Hills hung in the distance, and beyond, hundreds and hundreds of miles still, rose the great Rocky Mountains. Between Ray and his sister, the steamcoach spat its tendril of black smoke and rattled over the land. In the back—battered but having lost none of its menace—was the Hoarhound.

  And its hungry clockwork innards felt the draw of the rabbit’s foot.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JOHN CLAUDE BEMIS grew up in rural eastern North Carolina, where he loved reading the Jack tales and African American trickster stories, as well as fantasy and science fiction classics. A songwriter and musician in an Americana roots band, John found inspiration for the Clockwork Dark trilogy in old-time country and blues music and the Southern folklore at its heart.

  Drawing on the legend of John Henry’s struggle against the steam drill, John began exploring how Southern folklore could be turned into epic fantasy. This passion grew into his first novel, The Nine Pound Hammer, a story set in a mythical nineteenth-century America full of hoodoo conjurers and cowboys, battling trains and steamboat pirates.

  John is a former elementary school teacher and lives with his family in Hillsborough, North Carolina. Visit John’s Web site at www.johnclaudebemis.com.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2010 by John Claude Bemis

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Random House and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Bemis, John Claude.

  The Wolf Tree / John Claude Bemis. — 1st ed.

  p. cm. — (Clockwork dark; bk. 2)

  Summary: Ray Cobb and the rest of the R
amblers must cross into the Gloaming and destroy the Gog’s Machine, which has started to spread a darkness over the land.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-89311-7

  [1. Orphans—Fiction. 2. Brothers and sisters—Fiction.

  3. Characters in literature—Fiction. 4. Fantasy.] I. Title.

  PZ7.B4237Wol 2010

  [Fic]—dc22

  2009018950

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

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