"No. Not in your heart, Little Will. Shiner Pete is gone, and someday Reg will be gone. Now that you have to share Reg with all of the other bullhands, she might as well be gone now. You need someone, and you want your son. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just a damned shame the town voted you down."
"Shiner Pete needed someone, and I shut him out."
"He had me." Dot put her hand beneath Little Will's chin and lifted her head. Then, with the same hand, she wiped the tears from Little Will's face. "That's all in the past, now. You must think about the future."
"Dot, what should I do?"
"What do you want, child?"
Little Will collapsed against Dot's breast. "I want my son! I want Johnjay!" Her shoulders heaved as she freshened her cheeks with new tears. "Where is he, Dot? All the towns have blackballed him. He's been in the wild for almost a year. I don't know if he's even alive. I couldn't live if I found that he's dead." She looked up at Dot, the old woman's image blurred by her tears. "How can I get the town to change its vote."
"You can't. Little Will, no one can forgive what Johnjay did. Don't expect them to. But you can tell your son that you love him. Send your mind across the face of this planet, find him, and then tell him."
"What if he won't forgive me? I couldn't bear it, Dot. What if I can find him and he won't forgive me?"
"Still he must know. And you must tell him. Remember your father."
Little Will sat up and sniffed. "My father?"
"Bullhook fought with his dying breaths to be with you. To let you know that your father loved you. I was there and saw him. He didn't make it, but he tried." Dot held Little Will's chin, forcing the Master of the Miira Bullhands to look into her eyes. "And you hated him for dying—for leaving you. Didn't you?"
Little Will pulled away from the old woman's grasp, but continued to stare at her. She stood, wiped the tears from her face, then looked toward the kraal. Bigfoot was making her way up the hill for her turn at the bull. "For a while." She looked at the woman. "Am I so awful, Dot?"
"No." The old woman resumed plucking the weeds from her husband's grave. "You are not bad. Just human."
Little Will looked down at Great Dot, then turned and looked at the overgrown pile of rocks that covered the dead from Number Three. She walked to the grave, squatted down, then began pulling the weeds from it. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry."
Far west of Miira, No One stood on a highgrass-covered rise looking up at the tall trees that rose straight from the mud and water of the Great Muck Swamp. The high leaf cover darkened the swamp, making the air still and dank. Here and there a slender shaft of sunlight would break through briefly illuminating the dust, vapor, dancing waterwasps and punksquitoes before the wind at the top of the trees shifted the leaves, cutting off the beam.
He brought his gaze down and looked for sweetwater bubbles among the death-white bulb lillies floating close to the spongy rise upon which he stood. "Bah! The sweetwater comes up everywhere except at a convenient place." He looked back at the trail his steps had made through the highgrass. "I've come far enough, and spent enough time. I hope that woman has sense enough to stay at the camp."
He looked back at the water, grimaced, then put down the water jug, shucked his robe and kicked off his sandals. Picking up the jug again, he stepped off of the rise and sank up to his chest in the swamp's rot-smelling ooze, and half-paddled, half-walked his way through the bulb lillies to the nearest of the ripples marking the sweetwater. As he reached it, his skin was chilled by the sweetwater's lower temperature. He uncapped the water jug, lowered it into the water, and stood quietly waiting for it to fill.
"Magoo, magoo."
No One frowned at the sound of the deep-pitched words; then he heard more sounds—muck being sloshed, small trees and brush being broken and crushed. He glanced back at his robe, then turned in the direction of the sounds and lowered himself until the water covered his shoulders.
"Mm, borg borg, da magoo."
The sounds of sloshing and crashing grew louder; and No One sank further into the water until the surface was just beneath his nose. Between the distant trees, he could see movement. Whatever it was had to be enormous. By Momus, thought No One, it is one of the swamp monsters! Smaller trees were pushed aside, then a beam of sunlight illuminated the thing's massive head for a second. It was green and scaled, the mouth lined with many sharp-looking teeth.
"Dorry borry, bung bung, foo magoo."
No One caught a snootful as the creature swung its great tail around, then planted its fat behind into a sitting position. It had arms and hands, and the creature placed its hands upon its knees and looked around. "Stooba dooba, de da ma," Its tongue whipped out, bringing down probably several water-wasps. "—goo."
It reached down a hand, plucked a bulb lilly from the water, then popped the ball-shaped flower into its mouth, severed the plant's long stem and root, and tossed it aside. After eating several of the bulb lillies, the creature belched, then began gathering a number of the bulbs in the crook of its huge left arm.
"Mm borg borg, mm borg borg, da da magoo."
No One frowned as he realized the monster was singing. He frowned more deeply as the creature's harvesting operation caused its huge hand to begin plucking bulbs closer and closer to No One's head. No One was torn between diving and breaking for the highgrass; hence, he did nothing. The creature's hand reached out, the scaled fingers grabbed No One's head, then No One began kicking and shouting as he was pulled by his head from the water.
"Oz?"
The creature's eyes widened as its mouth fell open. The monster bellowed a scream, dropped No One, then threw up its arms and fled in a shower of scattered bulb lillies. By the time No One had surfaced, coughed the water from his lungs and cleared his eyes, the monster was gone. No One retrieved his water jug, shivered, and began making his way toward the highgrass.
Back at their camp that evening, Tarzaka cooked the cobit and watched No One's preoccupied stare into the fire's flames. The light from the fire made the shadows of the swamp trees dance as though they were alive. "You have been very quiet since you brought back the water."
"Yes." No One looked up at the fortune teller, then back at the flames. "I met one of the swamp monsters. I never thought they were real." He slowly shook his head. "Huge. As big as two bulls."
Tarzaka held her hand to her mouth. "What... what should we do?" She leaned forward. "Are you certain?"
"Hah! The thing picked me up by my head! A closer look I can do without."
"What should we do? How do we cross the swamp to the Arcadia-Miira Road?"
He clasped his hands together and shrugged. "We walk, as before." He again looked at the fortune teller. "A strange thing... I felt that it was not dangerous—at least not by intention. It sang."
"Sang? The monster?"
"It sang. At least it sang until it discovered that this bulb," he pointed at his head, "is attached to something more lively than a lilly stem." He shook his head. "I think the thing was more frightened of me than I was of it. I cannot imagine why something that large would ever be frightened."
"It is said that bulls can be frightened by small things: a noise, a gust of wind, the flash of a piece of paper."
No One nodded. "True. Still, the thing was so huge." He turned and looked over his shoulder at the shadows. Were great slitted eyes looking back? He looked back at the fortune teller. "My father used to tell me of the time he and my mother sent their minds into the swamp. My mother said she actually touched one of the creature's minds." He looked down at the fire.
"Well, what happened?"
"The monster fled. She had frightened it."
The fortune teller cocked her head to one side and frowned. "No One, do you have this power? Can you send your mind?"