Read Online The Wolf Tree by John Claude Bemis - Free Book Online
Authors: John Claude Bemis
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sticking out his tongue to the edge of his narrow mustache.
Cleoma tried to take a deep breath, but she could only gasp with fear and confusion. How could a man have a clockwork heart? But she knew his words to be true. She knew it because she could not sense Stacker as alive, like she could the other men or the animals of the forest.
That Stacker was not lying frightened her most.
She had to get away. She had no other choice. She said quickly, “I cannot help you. I do not have any of the waters.” Then she released her song, piercing and shrill. A song that hadheld a herd of deer motionless when she hunted. A song that had charmed a dozen fishermen as she passed by their boat.
As Cleoma began to pull from his grasp, Stacker clinched her arm tighter. “That is really regrettable,” he said. “I want to be … I just want to remember what it’s like …”
He waved the razor swiftly across her throat. Cleoma had no time to cry out, no time to feel pain. She sank to the ground.
“… to be a man again.” Stacker looked down at Cleoma’s still face and folded the blade of the razor into its pearl handle and dropped it into his pocket.
5
ÉLODIE
T O HIDE THE HARSH GLARE OF THE FIRELIGHT , J OLIE buried the coals of the cook fire. They would remain hot under the earth until morning. The stars overhead were bright enough to cast a shadow, and she gazed up at them for a long time.
Her sister Cleoma had been traveling for many hours now. Jolie imagined following Cleoma, swimming free in the creek and following the waters back to her Terrebonne home, where she wanted desperately to return. Had the fever spread? Would Cleoma need help tending the sisters? How many lives could extra hands save? Maybe Cleoma had been right. What would she be able to do for Conker—if and when he finally awoke?
This gnawing sense of regret brought a sudden weariness, and Jolie retired to the well. She pushed back the plants anddropped into the deep, black waters. As her body drifted down, she closed her eyes and felt the spring soothe away her troubled thoughts. After a short time, sleep came over her. She sank to the bottom of the well.
A cold hand clamped around her ankle.
Jolie’s eyes sprang open. She screamed a fountain of bubbles and kicked, but another hand clutched her leg and pulled her down. Great balloons of air ascended from the dark below.
Conker!
Shaking off sleep and fear, Jolie ran her fingers down to Conker’s hands, following them over his arms until she had a grip around his shoulder. She kicked and clawed the rocks lining the well to bring him up. As they broke the surface, Conker gave a great cry.
“Conker! It is me,” she said, holding him afloat and reaching for the edge of the well. “Can you see it is Jolie? I have you.”
He choked and sputtered and bobbed back down. Pulling him by his massive arm, Jolie coaxed him to clutch the well’s rock lip.
“Can you pull yourself up?”
Conker did not answer.
Jolie rose from the water and broke back the stems of the overhanging plants hiding the well. In the dim starlight, she saw his eyes, wide and searching and full of fear.
“Take my hand. I will help you up.”
Conker did as she said. Jolie pulled with all her strength until the giant planted his feet on the rock and stood up fromthe well. His legs gave out as he rose, and he crashed down into the bracken.
“You are weak, Conker,” she said, kneeling by him. “You have been asleep a long time. Rest here before you get up.”
Conker was crouching on his hands and knees. His hair had grown thick and wooly during his long sleep. Jolie ran her fingers soothingly across his head. Conker began trembling and shaking. His skin was cold.
“I will build up the fire. Stay here. I will be back to help you in a moment.”
Jolie rushed to collect the wood and uncover the coals. In minutes, the fire was ablaze.
Conker was as she had left him, still planted on his knees and still shivering. “Can you
Cleoma tried to take a deep breath, but she could only gasp with fear and confusion. How could a man have a clockwork heart? But she knew his words to be true. She knew it because she could not sense Stacker as alive, like she could the other men or the animals of the forest.
That Stacker was not lying frightened her most.
She had to get away. She had no other choice. She said quickly, “I cannot help you. I do not have any of the waters.” Then she released her song, piercing and shrill. A song that hadheld a herd of deer motionless when she hunted. A song that had charmed a dozen fishermen as she passed by their boat.
As Cleoma began to pull from his grasp, Stacker clinched her arm tighter. “That is really regrettable,” he said. “I want to be … I just want to remember what it’s like …”
He waved the razor swiftly across her throat. Cleoma had no time to cry out, no time to feel pain. She sank to the ground.
“… to be a man again.” Stacker looked down at Cleoma’s still face and folded the blade of the razor into its pearl handle and dropped it into his pocket.
5
ÉLODIE
T O HIDE THE HARSH GLARE OF THE FIRELIGHT , J OLIE buried the coals of the cook fire. They would remain hot under the earth until morning. The stars overhead were bright enough to cast a shadow, and she gazed up at them for a long time.
Her sister Cleoma had been traveling for many hours now. Jolie imagined following Cleoma, swimming free in the creek and following the waters back to her Terrebonne home, where she wanted desperately to return. Had the fever spread? Would Cleoma need help tending the sisters? How many lives could extra hands save? Maybe Cleoma had been right. What would she be able to do for Conker—if and when he finally awoke?
This gnawing sense of regret brought a sudden weariness, and Jolie retired to the well. She pushed back the plants anddropped into the deep, black waters. As her body drifted down, she closed her eyes and felt the spring soothe away her troubled thoughts. After a short time, sleep came over her. She sank to the bottom of the well.
A cold hand clamped around her ankle.
Jolie’s eyes sprang open. She screamed a fountain of bubbles and kicked, but another hand clutched her leg and pulled her down. Great balloons of air ascended from the dark below.
Conker!
Shaking off sleep and fear, Jolie ran her fingers down to Conker’s hands, following them over his arms until she had a grip around his shoulder. She kicked and clawed the rocks lining the well to bring him up. As they broke the surface, Conker gave a great cry.
“Conker! It is me,” she said, holding him afloat and reaching for the edge of the well. “Can you see it is Jolie? I have you.”
He choked and sputtered and bobbed back down. Pulling him by his massive arm, Jolie coaxed him to clutch the well’s rock lip.
“Can you pull yourself up?”
Conker did not answer.
Jolie rose from the water and broke back the stems of the overhanging plants hiding the well. In the dim starlight, she saw his eyes, wide and searching and full of fear.
“Take my hand. I will help you up.”
Conker did as she said. Jolie pulled with all her strength until the giant planted his feet on the rock and stood up fromthe well. His legs gave out as he rose, and he crashed down into the bracken.
“You are weak, Conker,” she said, kneeling by him. “You have been asleep a long time. Rest here before you get up.”
Conker was crouching on his hands and knees. His hair had grown thick and wooly during his long sleep. Jolie ran her fingers soothingly across his head. Conker began trembling and shaking. His skin was cold.
“I will build up the fire. Stay here. I will be back to help you in a moment.”
Jolie rushed to collect the wood and uncover the coals. In minutes, the fire was ablaze.
Conker was as she had left him, still planted on his knees and still shivering. “Can you
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