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Authors: Isobelle Carmody
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through to the bedroom with the gun. He returned empty-handed.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Prowler, I’d say,” he answered. “Might be the same man Mrs. Marren saw that caused her to go off the road. Gunshots scared the hell out of whoever it was, anyway.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a little fall of snow. “Come on, let’s go down to the kitchen. We could do with a hot drink.”
Rage followed, wondering if whatever had woken Billy had just been a human prowler. It seemed absurd to think anyone would brave such weather to poke around an old farmhouse. “Could it have been a wolf?” she ventured casually. “I heard one howling the other morning when I was waiting for Mrs. Marren.”
“There are a lot of weird stories around at the moment about wild animals,” her uncle said pensively. “Funny how people always shape their fears as animals. Truth is that humans are the most savage, stupid, and vicious animals in all the worlds.”
Rage stared at him. “You said worlds .”
He gave her a distracted look. “There are a hundred overlapping worlds in this one world, Rage. Countries that think differently and do things differently, all affecting one another and all trying to pretend the others don’t exist. All thinking their way is the right way. Sometimes I think it would be better if we were all caged off from one another like animals in a zoo.”
This was surprisingly close to the way the keepers had arranged Valley in the absence of the wizard. Remembering where that had led, Rage couldn’t help saying passionately, “You can’t cage things that are meant to be free. Even for their own good. And who would do the caging?”
Her uncle looked at her then, really looked at her, for maybe the first time. “You’re a bright lass, Rage,” he said softly. “But what is the answer, then? How to contain all that viciousness of humanity?”
It sounded as if he really thought that Rage might know the answer. But she could only shake her head and say helplessly, “Not everything is viciousness and hatred and cruelty.”
“I know it’s not, Rage, but what isn’t doesn’t have much of a chance against it.”
Rage said, “I think you have to try to do the right thing, even if it seems really small.” She hesitated. “Uncle Samuel, I know that Mam would begin to get well if she saw you. I think she wants that more than she wants anything in the world.”
Simple as that, the words that had been burning to be said for weeks and weeks came out. But Uncle Samuel didn’t seem to hear her. He stood up, draining off the rest of his drink, wiping down the bench, and putting the milk carton in the fridge in an unhurried way. As he left the room, he turned to remind Rage not to stay up too long. His eyes looked quite blank, as if he were sleepwalking.
Rage went back to her bedroom, Billy at her heels. The door stood ajar, so the warmth from the little heater had leaked away. Shutting the door behind her, she climbed into the icy sheets, shivering. She called softly to Billy and patted the bed. He looked askance at her, but he came and settled himself on the bed. Then Rage curled her body around his warm, reassuring bulk.
She did not expect to be able to sleep, but almost at once she began to drowse. She had the presence of mind, at the last moment, to picture Billy in his human form. But either she did not dream, or she did not recall it, for it seemed but a moment before her little alarm was trilling its summons into the early morning darkness.
Shivering and gritty eyed, Rage pushed Billy aside and clambered out of bed. It took a long, hot shower to bring her properly awake, by which time it was too late to have breakfast. Uncle Samuel was putting on his coat to go out and start the car up even as she let Billy out. Rage hastened to the kitchen to drink a glass of milk. She put a banana and a cereal bar into her pocket before pulling on her outside things and taking up her
“What happened?” she asked.
“Prowler, I’d say,” he answered. “Might be the same man Mrs. Marren saw that caused her to go off the road. Gunshots scared the hell out of whoever it was, anyway.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a little fall of snow. “Come on, let’s go down to the kitchen. We could do with a hot drink.”
Rage followed, wondering if whatever had woken Billy had just been a human prowler. It seemed absurd to think anyone would brave such weather to poke around an old farmhouse. “Could it have been a wolf?” she ventured casually. “I heard one howling the other morning when I was waiting for Mrs. Marren.”
“There are a lot of weird stories around at the moment about wild animals,” her uncle said pensively. “Funny how people always shape their fears as animals. Truth is that humans are the most savage, stupid, and vicious animals in all the worlds.”
Rage stared at him. “You said worlds .”
He gave her a distracted look. “There are a hundred overlapping worlds in this one world, Rage. Countries that think differently and do things differently, all affecting one another and all trying to pretend the others don’t exist. All thinking their way is the right way. Sometimes I think it would be better if we were all caged off from one another like animals in a zoo.”
This was surprisingly close to the way the keepers had arranged Valley in the absence of the wizard. Remembering where that had led, Rage couldn’t help saying passionately, “You can’t cage things that are meant to be free. Even for their own good. And who would do the caging?”
Her uncle looked at her then, really looked at her, for maybe the first time. “You’re a bright lass, Rage,” he said softly. “But what is the answer, then? How to contain all that viciousness of humanity?”
It sounded as if he really thought that Rage might know the answer. But she could only shake her head and say helplessly, “Not everything is viciousness and hatred and cruelty.”
“I know it’s not, Rage, but what isn’t doesn’t have much of a chance against it.”
Rage said, “I think you have to try to do the right thing, even if it seems really small.” She hesitated. “Uncle Samuel, I know that Mam would begin to get well if she saw you. I think she wants that more than she wants anything in the world.”
Simple as that, the words that had been burning to be said for weeks and weeks came out. But Uncle Samuel didn’t seem to hear her. He stood up, draining off the rest of his drink, wiping down the bench, and putting the milk carton in the fridge in an unhurried way. As he left the room, he turned to remind Rage not to stay up too long. His eyes looked quite blank, as if he were sleepwalking.
Rage went back to her bedroom, Billy at her heels. The door stood ajar, so the warmth from the little heater had leaked away. Shutting the door behind her, she climbed into the icy sheets, shivering. She called softly to Billy and patted the bed. He looked askance at her, but he came and settled himself on the bed. Then Rage curled her body around his warm, reassuring bulk.
She did not expect to be able to sleep, but almost at once she began to drowse. She had the presence of mind, at the last moment, to picture Billy in his human form. But either she did not dream, or she did not recall it, for it seemed but a moment before her little alarm was trilling its summons into the early morning darkness.
Shivering and gritty eyed, Rage pushed Billy aside and clambered out of bed. It took a long, hot shower to bring her properly awake, by which time it was too late to have breakfast. Uncle Samuel was putting on his coat to go out and start the car up even as she let Billy out. Rage hastened to the kitchen to drink a glass of milk. She put a banana and a cereal bar into her pocket before pulling on her outside things and taking up her
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