axes? Instead of trying to persuade the spirit of the strong tight fire to fight harder? How powerful do you think we are?”
Veela was desperate. She was nearly crying. “Need help. Need help.”
“Then ask for it from the powerful spirit of the strong tight fire. Ask for it from your magic man in his little nut. My son and I are not even medicine men. If we try to fight these things with only our stones and our arms, we’ll die.”
“But I want to fight them, Father,” said the Jaw.
Chert was drawn up short for a speechless moment. Never before had the Jaw called him “Father” like that. Of course he knew it was an attempt to soften him and make him more amenable to Veela’s pleas. Understanding the ploy didn’t make it entirely ineffective. Nevertheless, Chert said to the Jaw, “I tell you that if we fight those things in that way we will be killed, or else become like them. I’m sorry, my son. But the truth is a stone that cannot be broken.”
“Need help,” Veela kept repeating. She actually was crying now. At first Chert thought something was wrong with her; then he realized she was trying to hold back her tears, which struck him as an odd thing to do. “Need help. Or whole world no-die will be. Whole world no-die.”
“We should agree,” insisted the Jaw. “Even if we don’t end up destroying all the undead, at least we might learn more about the strong tight fire. That may prove valuable, yes?”
Very well—they could agree, and maybe glean some knowledge from this monster, who might be nothing but a very strange woman, after all. Anyway, Chert could tell he wasn’t going to be able to pry the Jaw away just yet. It was not only the lust for vengeance that held him, Chert sensed, but another kind of lust, too. Well, if it did turn out this Veela was simply a woman, they would be able to take her with them by force, no matter how desperately she wanted to stay near this cursed ground and commit suicide by throwing rocks at those undead. Best to wait, though, till they had been better able to gauge her powers.
Veela was greatly relieved when they told her they’d stay with her and lend their strength to the fight against the undead, so much so that Chert wondered if she had an exaggerated notion of their prowess. Privately, she herself felt that the benefit they brought was mainly psychological. It felt good to have any allies in this impossible fight, in this alien time. And hopefully she really would be able to learn something of value from them.
In fact, it was not long before exactly that happened, although she was not to appreciate the significance of the datum for quite some time.
***
I t was while they were tramping along again through the forest, before nightfall. The woman followed Chert and the Jaw. She hadn’t wanted to move at all, but Chert had insisted that they put some distance between them and the site of the no-die attack. Chert wondered if she had any idea where she was at all—she just seemed so stupid.
They passed a patch of purple-capped Mushrooms of the Inner Eye, and the Jaw pointed them out to Chert. “I want to eat one,” he said.
“We don’t have time,” said Chert.
“The journey is never long, for those who are left behind.” (Time passed differently when one traveled through the underworld, and the voyager could sometimes feel that many days had gone by.) “And I want to see if my mother is there below.”
Chert tried to keep his shoulders from sagging. “Why?” he asked. “What good will that do?”
“I just want to see if she’s there.”
“Whether you see her or not, it won’t mean anything. You aren’t a shaman. You don’t know how to ask the spirits which visions are true and which are not. And there’s no shaman here for us to tell what we saw.”
“I want to see.”
Veela watched the scene with obvious incomprehension. She began moving toward the patch of Mushrooms of the Inner Eye.
Chert thought she was going to try to eat
Veela was desperate. She was nearly crying. “Need help. Need help.”
“Then ask for it from the powerful spirit of the strong tight fire. Ask for it from your magic man in his little nut. My son and I are not even medicine men. If we try to fight these things with only our stones and our arms, we’ll die.”
“But I want to fight them, Father,” said the Jaw.
Chert was drawn up short for a speechless moment. Never before had the Jaw called him “Father” like that. Of course he knew it was an attempt to soften him and make him more amenable to Veela’s pleas. Understanding the ploy didn’t make it entirely ineffective. Nevertheless, Chert said to the Jaw, “I tell you that if we fight those things in that way we will be killed, or else become like them. I’m sorry, my son. But the truth is a stone that cannot be broken.”
“Need help,” Veela kept repeating. She actually was crying now. At first Chert thought something was wrong with her; then he realized she was trying to hold back her tears, which struck him as an odd thing to do. “Need help. Or whole world no-die will be. Whole world no-die.”
“We should agree,” insisted the Jaw. “Even if we don’t end up destroying all the undead, at least we might learn more about the strong tight fire. That may prove valuable, yes?”
Very well—they could agree, and maybe glean some knowledge from this monster, who might be nothing but a very strange woman, after all. Anyway, Chert could tell he wasn’t going to be able to pry the Jaw away just yet. It was not only the lust for vengeance that held him, Chert sensed, but another kind of lust, too. Well, if it did turn out this Veela was simply a woman, they would be able to take her with them by force, no matter how desperately she wanted to stay near this cursed ground and commit suicide by throwing rocks at those undead. Best to wait, though, till they had been better able to gauge her powers.
Veela was greatly relieved when they told her they’d stay with her and lend their strength to the fight against the undead, so much so that Chert wondered if she had an exaggerated notion of their prowess. Privately, she herself felt that the benefit they brought was mainly psychological. It felt good to have any allies in this impossible fight, in this alien time. And hopefully she really would be able to learn something of value from them.
In fact, it was not long before exactly that happened, although she was not to appreciate the significance of the datum for quite some time.
***
I t was while they were tramping along again through the forest, before nightfall. The woman followed Chert and the Jaw. She hadn’t wanted to move at all, but Chert had insisted that they put some distance between them and the site of the no-die attack. Chert wondered if she had any idea where she was at all—she just seemed so stupid.
They passed a patch of purple-capped Mushrooms of the Inner Eye, and the Jaw pointed them out to Chert. “I want to eat one,” he said.
“We don’t have time,” said Chert.
“The journey is never long, for those who are left behind.” (Time passed differently when one traveled through the underworld, and the voyager could sometimes feel that many days had gone by.) “And I want to see if my mother is there below.”
Chert tried to keep his shoulders from sagging. “Why?” he asked. “What good will that do?”
“I just want to see if she’s there.”
“Whether you see her or not, it won’t mean anything. You aren’t a shaman. You don’t know how to ask the spirits which visions are true and which are not. And there’s no shaman here for us to tell what we saw.”
“I want to see.”
Veela watched the scene with obvious incomprehension. She began moving toward the patch of Mushrooms of the Inner Eye.
Chert thought she was going to try to eat
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