I went with him. He was right about not saying anything else. I could not have, even if there had been something to say. We walked, and I wanted to look back, but I was unable to do that either.
After a time, when we were higher and moving through heavier brush, passing among trees once more, I heard a sound like singing, from far away. I could not fully hear nor understand the words and I tried to listen with my mind.
. . . Trees and mountains, streams and plains, how can this thing be? I seemed to hear. Rend yourselves, hide yourselves, spill yourselves over, weep ...
I— I staggered. For a moment, I seemed to be lying 153
there, bleeding, my head in her lap. Then the song was lost to me, there among the trees.
We hurried on, through the faded remains of the night.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ROGER ZELAZNY is an expatriate Ohioan who now resides on a mountaintop in New Mexico with his wife, Judy; sons Devin and Trent; daughter, Shannon; assorted typewriters, oriental rugs, unanswered letters, and science fiction awards. The awards, which he keeps close on hand in his office— "Never can tell when you might need one in a hurry 5 * —consist of three Hugos, three Nebulas, a Balrog, and the mystical presence of the Prix Apollo. He has had 26 books published, and his works have been translated into 14 foreign languages, transcribed in Braille, and done as Talking Books. One of his novels was made into a movie, and another has been sold for the same purpose. He is currently working on a new novel. Available in a Signet edition is Roger Zelazny's fine novel, JACK OF SHADOWS.
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