Jed glanced round at Weeks. The man had gone the color of a urinal, and his eyes were swiveling up into his sockets. "Don't do this!" Jed ordered him. This order was no,, more obeyed than that he'd given Buddenbaum. The gu@ ' fell from Weeks's trembling fingers and he let out a aspjhat was as much pleasure as it was capitulation. Then he murmured. "Oh God, why didn't... why didn't anybody tell me?"
"Take no notice of him," Jed said to Cliff Campbell.
The man obeyed, but only because he had delusions of his own to deal with. "What's going on, Jed?" he murmured. "Where'd these women come from?"
"What women?" Jed said.
"They're all around us," Campbell babbled, turning as he spoke. "Don't you see them?"
Gilholly was about to shake his head when he let out a low moan. "Oh my Lord," he said.
"Are you ready?" D'Amour murmured to Tesla.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
Harry went back to watching Gilholly, who was fighting to keep a hold on his senses. "This isn't happening... " he murmured, glancing over at Campbell for support. He got none. His deputy had fallen to his knees and was laughing to himself like a crazy. In desperation, Jed pointed his gun at the forms drifting in front of him. "Stay out of my way!" he yelled at them. "I mean it! I'll use this if I have to."
"Let s go, arry sal, 'w i e 's istracted, and he and Tesla started away from the middle of the street.
9 he fell to his knees. "I never knew Jed saw their escape attempt.
"You! Stay-" He faltered in the middle of the order, as if he'd forgotten the words. "Oh Jesus," he said, his voice trembling now,
"Jesus, Jesus, Jesus... "
Then, finally, he too dropped to his knees.
In the middle of the street, Buddenbaum let out a howl of frustration.
Something was wrong here. One moment the crossroads had been melting beneath him, power flowing into its heart, the next the taste he'd had in his tongue had soured, and the dirt was hardening around his arm. He pulled it out. It was like extracting his hand from the bowels of something dead or dying. A shudder of revulsion coursed through him, and stinging tears sprang into his eyes.
"Owen-?"
The voice was Seth's of course. He was standing a yard or two away, looking fretful and afraid. "Has something gone wrong?" Buddenbaum nodded. "Do you know what?"
"Maybe this," Owen said, putting his hand up to his wounded head. "Maybe it simply distracted me-"
"Come away," Seth said.
Owen raised his wounded head and studied the air. "What do you see?" he said.
"The women, you mean?" Owen squinted. "I just see bright shapes. Are they women?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"Then it's some kind of conspiracy," he said. He reached up and grabbed hold of Seth's arm, pulling himself to his feet. "Somebody put them there to block the working."
"Who?"
"I don't know," Buddenbaum said. "Somebody who knows-" He halted, turning his gaze in Tesia's direction. "Bombeck," he murmured. Then shouted: "Bombeck!"
"What's his problem?" Harry said as Buddenbaum started towards them.
"He thinks I'm here to take the Art."
"Are you?"
Tesla shook her head. "I saw what it did to the Jaff," she said. "And he was ready for it. Or thought he was."
Buddenbaum was closing on them. Harry went for his gun, but Tesla said:
"That's not going to stop him. Let's just get the hell out of his way." She turned from Buddenbaum only to find that in the seconds she'd been looking back a little girl had stepped into their path and was studying them gravely. She was absurdly perfect: a petite blonde-ringleted five year old in a white dress, white socks, and white shoes. Her face was rose pink, her eyes huge and blue.
"Hello," she said, her voice sweet and cool. "You're Testa, aren't you?"
Tesla wasn't in any mood to be chatting to kids, however perfect they were. "You should go find your Mommy and Daddy," she said.
"I was watching," the child said.
"This isn't a good thing to watch, honey," D'Amour said. "Where are your Mom and Dad?"
"They're not here."
:,You're on your own?"
'No," she replied. "I've got Haheh with me, and Yie." She glanced back towards the ice cream parlor. There, sitting on the step, was a man with the face of a born comedianjug-eared, wall-eyed, rubber-mouthed-who had six cones of ice cream in his hands, and was licking from one to another with a look of great concentration. Beside him was another child, this a boy, who looked nearly moronic.
"Don't worry about me," the little girl said. "I'm fine." She studied Testa carefully. "Are you dying?" she said.
Testa looked at D'Amour. "This is not a conversation I want to have right now."
"But I do," Miss Perfection said. "It's important."
"Well, why don't you ask somebody else?"
"Because it's you we're interested in," the little girl replied gravely. She took a step towards Testa, Lifting her hand as she did so. "We saw your face, and we said: She knows about the story tree."
"About what?"
"The story tree," the child replied.
"What the fuck is she talking about?" Testa said to D'Amour. "Never mind," came another voice, this from behind them. Testa didn't need to look round to know it was Buddenbaum. His voice was curiously hollow, as though he were speaking from an empty chamber. "You should have kept out of my business, woman."
"I've no interest in your business," Tesla said. Then, suddenly inquisitive, she turned to him. "But just for the record: What is your business?"
Buddenbaum looked terrible, his face more bloody than not, his body trembling. "That's for me to know," he said.
At this, the little girl piped up. "You can tell her, Owen," she said. Buddenbaum looked past Testa at the child. "I've no wish to share our secrets with this woman," he said stiffly. "But we do," the child replied.
Testa studied Buddenbaum's face through the odd exchange, trying to decode its signs. Plainly, he knew the girl well; and equally plainly was somewhat nervous of her. Perhaps wary rather than nervous. Once again, Testa missed Raul's incisive grasp of such signals. Had he been with her she was certain he could have armed her with insights for whatever encounter lay ahead.
"You look sick," Buddenbaum said.
"You and me both," Testa replied.
"Ah, but I'll mend," Buddenbaum went on. "You, on the other hand, are not long for this world." He spoke lightly enough, but she couldn't miss the threat in the words. He was not simply prophesying death, he was promising it. "I suggest you start making your farewells while you can."
"Is this all part of it?" the little girl said. Testa glanced back at her. She was wearing a coy little smile. "Is it, Owen?"
"Yes," Buddenbaum said. "It's all part of it."
"Oh good, good." The child shifted her attention back to Tesla. "We'll see you later then," she said, stepping aside to let them pass.
"I don't think that's very likely," Testa said.
"Oh, but we will," the girl said, "for sure. We're very interested in you and the story tree."
Tesla heard Buddenbaum mutter something behind her. he didn't hear what, and she was in no state of mind or to make him repeat it. She simply returned the child's sweet smile and with Harry at her side left the crossroads, with the sound of the officers' bewildered worship floating after them on the summer breeze.
Though it was next to impossible that news of what had happened at the crossroads had already reached the ears of every man, woman, and child in Everville, the streets Tesla and Harry walked to get back to Phoebe's house were pretematurally quiet, as though people had read the trembling air, and judged silence the safest response. Despite the heat, doors were closed and windows shuttered. There were no children playing on the lawns or in the street; not even dogs were showing their twitching noses.