"I don't think we're out of trouble yet," Harry said.
"You think they'll come after us?"
"I'm damn sure they will," he said quickly. "Bartho's probably making crosses for us right now."
The image of Lucien flashed into her head and a sob escaped her. She put her hand to her mouth, to stop another, but tears came anyway, pouring down.
"They're not going to get us," D'Amour said, "I won't let them."
"It's not that," Tesia said.
"What is it then?"
She shook her head. "Later," she said, and turning from him started on down the slope. The tears half-blinded her, and several times she stumbled, but she pushed her exhausted limbs to their limits, until she made the relative safety of the tree line. Even then she only slowed her pace a little, glancing back now and again to be certain she hadn't lost D'Amour.
At last, with both of them gasping so hard they could barely speak, the trees began to thin out, and a mingling of sounds came drifting up towards them. The rush of Unger's Creek was one. The murmuring roar of the crowd was another. And the thump and blare of the town band as it led the parade through the streets of Everville was a third. "It's not quite Mozart," Tesla thought to Raul. "Sorry." Her tenant didn't reply.
"Raul?" she said, this time aloud.
"Something wrong?" D'Amour wanted to know.
She hushed him with a look, and turned her attention inward again.
"Raul-?" she said. Again, there was no answer. Concerned now, she closed her eyes and went looking for him. Two or three times during her travels he had hidden from her in this fashion, out of anger or anxiety, and she'd been obliged to coax him out. She took her thoughts to the divide between his territory and hers, calling his name as she went. There was still no response.
A sickening suspicion rose up in her.
"Answer me, Raul," she said. She was again met with silence, so she crossed over into the space he occupied.
She knew the instant she did so that he'd gone. When she'd trespassed here on previous occasions his presence had been all-pervasive, even when she hadn't been able to make him speak to her. She'd felt his essence, as somet ing utterly unlike her, occupying a space which most people lived and died believing theirs and only theirs: Their minds. Now there was nothing. No challenge, no complaint, no wit, no sob.
"What's wrong?" D'Amour said, studying her face.
"Raul," she said. "He's gone."
She knew when it had happened. That moment of agony and temporary madness at the threshold had marked his departure, her mind convulsing as he was ripped out of it.
She opened her eyes. The world around her-the trees, the sky, D'Amour, the sound of creek and crowd and band EVERV"ILLE 377 were almost overwhelming after the emptiness where Raul had been.
"Are you sure?" D'Amour said.
"I'm sure."
"Where the hell did he go?"
She shook her head. "He warned me, when we were close to the shore. He said he was losing his grip. I thought he meant-"
"He was going crazy?"
"Yes." She growled at her own stupidity. "Christ! I let him go. How could I have let that happen?"
"Don't beat yourself up because you didn't think of everything. Only God thinks of everything."
"Don't get Christian on me," Tesla said, her voice thick. "That's the last fucking thing I want right now."
"We're going to need help from somewhere," D'Amour said, casting his eyes back up the mountain. "You know what they're doing up there, don't you?" "Waiting for the lad."
"Right.
"And Kissoon's head of the welcoming committee."
"You know about Kissoon?" D'Amour said, plainly surprised.
So was Tesla. "You know about him too?"
"I've been following him across the country for the last two months."
"How did you find out he was here?"
"A woman you know. Maria Nazareno."
"How'd you come to find her?"
11 e und me, the way she found you."
Tesla put her hand to her face, wiping away some of the sweat and dirt.
"She's dead, isn't she?" "I'm afraid she is. Kissoon traced her."
"We're a lethal pair, D'Amour. Everybody we touch-" She let the thought go unfinished. Simply turned from him and continued her descent through the trees.
"What are you going to do now?"
"Sit. Think."
"Mind if I come with you?"
"Have you got some last-minute maneuver up your sleeve?"
"No.
"Good. Because I'm sick of believing there's a damn ing we can do about any of ffiis."
"I didn't say that."
"No, but I did," Tesla said, marching on down the slope. "They're coming, D'Amour, whether we like it or not. The door's open and they're coming through it. I think it's about time we made our peace with that."
Harry was about to argue the point, but before he could find the words he remembered the conversation he'd had with Norma. The world could change, she'd said, but it can't end. And where was the harm in change?
was it so dandy the way it was?
He looked up through the swaying branches at the gleaming blue sky, while the music of the town band came to him on a balmy breeze, and he had his answer. "The world's just fine the way it is," he said, loud enough for Tesla to hear it. She didn't answer him. Just marched on down to the creek and waded over. "Just fine," he said to himself, asserting with that his inalienable right to defend it. "Just fine."
After her literal fashion, Phoebe had expected to find a door awaiting her at the end of her trek. It would more than likely be fancier than any door she'd seen, and she wasn't so nzffve as to expect a bell and a welcome mat, but to all intents and purposes it would be a door. She would stand before it, turn the handle, and with a majestic sigh it would open before her.
How wrong she'd been. Passing between worlds had been like having ether at the dentist's in the bad old days: her mind fighting to hold on to consciousness, and losing, losing, losing She didn't remember falling, but when she opened her eyes again she was face-down on snow-dusted rocks. She lifted herself up, her body chilled to the bone. There were drops of blood among the snowflakes, and more falling from her face. She put her hand up and cautiously touched her mouth and nose. It was the latter that was bleeding, but there was very little pain, so she assumed she hadn't broken it.
She dug for a handkerchief in the pocket of her dress (which she'd chosen for its skimpiness, in expectation of Joe seeing her in it; a decision she now regretted) and found a balled-up tissue to clamp to her nose. Only then did she start to take much notice of her surroundings.
Off to her right was the crack through which she'd come, the day on the other side brighter (and warmer) than the purplish gloom in which she found herself. Off to her left, partially surrounded in mist, was the sea, its dark waves almost viscous. And on the shore between, squatting in countless numbers, were birds that vaguely resembled cormorants. The largest perhaps two feet tall, their bodies mottled and almost waxen, their heads-some of which were decorated with crests of green feathers, others of which were completely bald-tiny. The closest of them were perhaps two yards from her, but none showed the slightest interest in her. She got to her feet, her teeth chattering with the cold, and cast a glance back the way she'd come. was it worth risking a return journey, just to find herself some more adequate clothing? Without something to cover her up she was going to be dead from the cold in a very short time.
She only contemplated this for a moment. Then she caught sight of one of the Blessedm'n's children on the other side, apparently staring in her direction, and the horror of all that she'd experienced to get here came flooding back. Better the cold than the crosses, she thought, and before the child could summon someone to come after her she retreated down the shore towards the water, the veil of mist between her and the doorway thickening with every step, until she could no longer see it; nor, she prayed, be seen.