But there was suspicion even in wise old Stick’s voice as he said, “I don’t know—Gash-Eye was also the one to point out the Big-Brows with the green light in the first place, wasn’t she?”
“Because that’s her job. We make her do that.”
Gash-Eye tried to stir herself, to muster the will to tell Quarry not to bother about her. She felt like she was nearly able to, but was annoyed at the necessity—it would be so much easier if everyone would simply allow her to rest there till she died, or else kill her.
“Keep your mouth shut, girl,” warned Spear. “Or you’ll share in what she’s getting.”
Quarry’s voice trembled, but she spoke up anyway: “You know good and well she had nothing to do with those unkillables. You’ve always hated her, and you’re using the unkillables as an excuse to put her to death now!”
Spear walloped the girl’s head hard with his fist. She fell back, stunned. “I’ve got time to do you both,” said Spear, sounding satisfied with the prospect, as if it made up for the destruction of their band.
But as he was about to bring his fist clubbing down on the girl again, Gash-Eye thrust herself up from the rock floor and shoved him hard in the chest, sending him flying backward. Now that she was fully awake again, her strength was a match for Spear’s. She grabbed Quarry and tore off deeper into the cave, following the rocky slope downward, the girl in her arms. Already Spear was howling in outrage.
The cave opened out and grew bigger as one went deeper in and down. Gash-Eye stopped and held still. The mouth of the cave was so distant, this was near the limit of where she could see anything. But if she were nearly blind here, then the People would be completely so, giving her an advantage over Spear and the rest of them. And now that the room had opened out, there was more space for Gash-Eye and Quarry to hide, if the People did come groping after them. Gash-Eye held Quarry close, not wanting her to stray and get lost, keeping her hand clamped over the girl’s mouth even though she was sure Quarry was clever enough not to make noise.
“Big-Brow!” shrieked Spear. Terrible echoes bounced and rebounded through the cave. “You bitch! I’ll eat you and that little girl both!”
“Stop it, Spear!” scolded Stick. “Leave them! If they want to skulk in the dark, let them! If Gash-Eye comes back, we’ll kill her for having warned her fellow Big-Brows. But everyone knows Quarry’s right, there’s no way Gash-Eye is behind the unkillables, and merely warning off that band of Big-Brows is not cause enough to risk our lives hunting her. As for Quarry, I say she shall not be hurt.”
Stick’s admonition wasn’t enough to quiet Spear all at once. “I’ll kill her!” he raged. “I’ll cut open her belly and suck out her guts! You hear me, Gash-Eye? Come out and face me, you freak!”
Suddenly Gash-Eye became aware of something moving in the darkness. It was between her and Spear—she had dashed past it. She stared at the shape, squinting, until she was sure. Perhaps her rush past had awakened it. The People would not be able to see it.
That is, the People would not be able to see it, yet. It was shuffling their way, and would be upon them soon.
“I hear you, Spear,” she said. Her loud words reverberated through the cavern so that it was impossible to pinpoint where she was, though she could make out Spear cocking his head and trying to do just that. “Would you like to kill me before or after I tell you about the unkillable that I see in here with us?”
No one spoke.
“It’s headed your way,” she added.
Still, no one answered. In the stillness all could now hear the scraping of its soles against the rock floor.
Though it took her a moment to be certain, Gash-Eye saw that now, in fact, it was turning back down toward her and Quarry.
Spear answered: “You’re lying, Big-Brow. You’re trying to frighten us.”
“If that’s true you have nothing to fear, and can come after me with no worries that you’ll bump into something else.”
Spear didn’t move. From the People came keening and sobbing, and hushed warding chants. The unkillable turned again, and shuffled once more toward them.
“You led us here on purpose!” cried Spear.
“Stop being a fool, Spear!” said Stick. “Gash-Eye. We know you’re not in league with these things. That’s just Spear’s prattle. Tell us where it is, that we may defend ourselves.” There was bustling commotion. To the others, Stick said, “Where will you go, outside?! There are still a dozen of those things out there!” Again to Gash-Eye, Stick said, “Tell us where it is, Gash-Eye. Be our eyes. Fulfill your purpose, and all will be forgotten regarding your warning to your fellow Big-Brows, last night.”
While Stick had been speaking, Gash-Eye had taken her hand from Quarry’s mouth and, too quiet for anyone else to hear, whispered, “Stay here. Stay silent. You will not be able to see me, but I will be able to see you, and I will return to fetch you. But you must be silent.”
Now, as Stick waited for her reply, as they all listened to the bare black feet scattering pebbles, Gash-Eye took a few careful steps, leaning over to pick up two stones about the size of skulls. She gripped them tightly in her palms and crept forward. Even for her the thing was hard to see—she could see it only as a blotch of darker shadow. It was moving so slowly. Gash-Eye wondered if that was because it was weak with hunger. If so, she wondered if it would speed up once it had food at hand.
The panicked refugees toward the front of the cave were getting noisier and noisier. It had not occurred to them that their commotion might be attracting the unkillable, not even to Stick, who shouted, “Gash-Eye, don’t let that thing drive us back outside to its fellows! Tell us where it is!” Even he was edging backward.
Their clamor disguised whatever slight sounds Gash-Eye might be making as she snuck up behind the creature. She held her arms outstretched, still gripping the stones, ignoring the strain in her muscles. She was unlikely to get more than one chance to kill this thing. From what she’d seen of the others of its kind, she might have no chance at all.
Now she was only two paces behind it, staring at the back of its head. The creature paused, as if it were listening, and Gash-Eye wondered if she’d made a sound. For an instant she imagined she saw, not the back of the thing’s head, but its face there in the shadows before her. Although moments ago she’d been ready to welcome death, now that she faced it in the form of this awful monster she was terrified. One last time she gauged the distance between them.
As hard as she could, she clapped the two stones together. Resistance jolted her arms as the creature’s skull came between the stones—she’d calculated well.
Gash-Eye struck hard enough to kill any creature she’d ever encountered before. But she was shocked to find that the head of this thing actually popped with a squirting sound—as if its skull had been weak and rotten. Chunks of wet brain and shards of bone splattered back into her face. Instinctively she sealed her lips, and, dropping the stones, rubbed her face clean on the backs of her forearms.
Meanwhile the unkillable thing dropped to its knees before her, then onto its belly. It continued to crawl forward till Gash-Eye set her feet on its calf and held it in place. Its arms tried weakly to twist around and take hold of her, but they couldn’t reach. Gash-Eye wasn’t very scared of the thing anymore. Now that its head was smashed like an old brown fruit, it had no more mouth to bite her with.
The People didn’t know whether to be hopeful at the crashing sound, or more terrified than ever. “Gash-Eye?” called Stick. “Gash-Eye, is that you? What was that noise?” In the darkness she could make out Spear, head still cocked, straining to pick up some clue of what was happening.
“I am here, Stick,” she said. Her voice, rougher and thicker than the People’s, reverberated eerily. “I am here, all you People, with you in the dark. The unkillable thing that would have murdered you lies defeated under my foot.”
Relief mixed with uncertainty could be heard in the People’s murmurings, and in Stick’s voice: “We thank you, Gash-Eye.... If it’s true that you’ve saved us from one of those things, all will be forgiven....”
“You took me for a purpose,” she continued, cutting him off; “you had a purpose for me, when you took me all those years ago. It was that I might see into the dark places. The dark places of the earth, when the sun goes down, and also the dark places of the universe. You could use me as a tool in your rites, to see into the future and into the other hidden places of the world.
“But now we are in the world you knew no longer. No more will you merely peer into the darkness. Now you will live here, in my realm, with me. There will be no more light and if you wish to see you must do it with my eyes.
“Leave this cave if you wish to face what awaits you there. I can see the outside as clearly as I saw that unkillable which was hidden from you all, and I say that if you go out there you will face the black and green non-death of your brethren. I see it: a scene of unkillable monsters, roving the forest, covering the hill like ants on a pile.” Hopefully no one would crawl forth and peek out the mouth of the cave, in case she was wrong. “We must move even deeper down into this cave if you want to be safe.”
She turned her back on her stunned captors and went to where she’d left Quarry. The girl was huddled and trembling, blind in the darkness. She whimpered when Gash-Eye touched her, then relaxed as she realized who it was. Gash-Eye gathered her up into her strong arms, picked her up and held her.
“Is this true, Gash-Eye?” ventured Stick, fearfully. When she didn’t deign to answer, he said, “Must we really stay here always, and never see the sun?”
“For a while. I will tell you when we may safely leave.” If she could draw them away from the light and into the places where only she could see, then they would need her, and she would be safe and would be able to keep the girl safe too.
Quarry was weeping, almost soundlessly; Gash-Eye gently shushed and caressed her. Then she thought of something. Turning back toward Stick, she said, “And my name is not Gash-Eye. It’s Petal-Drift.”
T
hey didn’t travel very long before the monster, or the woman, insisted they rest. Chert wanted to put more distance between themselves and the catastrophe, but the monster, who’d managed to convey that her name was Veela, assured them it was safe. “No no-die,” she kept repeating. “No no-die, for far.” Well, Chert supposed, maybe she really did have some way of knowing.
She kept picking up objects and saying something, then holding the rock or stick or whatever it was expectantly toward Chert and the Jaw. It didn’t take long to figure out she wanted them to teach her the words for things, and they switched from Overhill to the People’s tongue. If they were going to teach her a language, it might as well be their own. Veela seemed confused at first, then exasperated when she realized they were teaching her a whole new tongue, instead of building on the one she’d already started. But there wasn’t much she could do about it.
It got even more confusing for her when they switched back to Overhill, wanting to question her without having to teach her a whole language first. “Give us the strong tight fire,” said the Jaw. “Give it to us, so we can go back and kill the no-dies.” Chert also was eager to learn the secret of the strong tight fire, albeit not so he could rush back to fight the undead.
Veela nodded enthusiastically, but what she said was, “Time, takes many. For try, try, try. Difficult.”
Fine. Chert and the Jaw could understand that it would take time to learn a strange new weapon. But that was all the more reason to start practicing, and they were frustrated at her refusal to produce it.
She managed to explain that she wanted to be able to talk to them better before training them for her people’s weapons. So they went back to repeating to her the words for things. She retained them surprisingly well, and soon was picking up words for actions and colors, too. Her sentences were still jumbles of the couple hundred words she’d learned, but the hunters could tell it wouldn’t be long before she was able to have a basic conversation. Even so, they didn’t want to wait to start learning. The Jaw, especially.
He said to her, “I want to kill the no-dies.” It was the thousandth time he’d said it.
She nodded enthusiastically. “Need the help,” she said. “Help we need, to kill the no-dies. No-die, all. Must needs kill all no-dies.”
The Jaw nodded. That was fine with him.
But Veela pressed the point, as if he’d not understood completely; “
All
,” she repeated.
They stayed at that resting spot all the next day. For some reason she wanted to stay in the area—when they tried to figure out exactly why, she either didn’t have the fluency or the desire to explain. Chert was suspicious and impatient and several times muttered to the Jaw that they should be on their way, with or without the pretty monster, but the Jaw refused and Chert didn’t want to try to physically pull him away.
She learned the language fast. Chert wondered if she had magical help. She had a small something, shaped like a nut pierced with tiny regular holes, with a shiny surface like impossibly smooth stone, almost like ice except that, like the protective sheet that had been over her face, which she’d raised, it didn’t melt. Perhaps it really was a nut, from some unimaginable tree. Or it could be something completely different. Chert was getting used to the idea that there were things in the world so completely beyond his understanding that he couldn’t even define the boundaries of his incomprehension.
Anyway, there was a tiny man living inside the nut. Sometimes Veela would hold it up to her mouth and speak through the holes to the little man inside it, and he would respond in his strange high-pitched buzzing voice. He sounded remarkably at ease and confident, considering that Veela had him trapped in a nut and was hundreds of times bigger than him. Perhaps the nut was of such strong material that he didn’t fear she’d be able to break into it.
And then again, maybe he had some mysterious value, despite his size. At times Veela listened to him closely and with great attention, and Chert remembered old Pine, from his boyhood, who’d had a withered arm and no teeth left, but who’d been kept alive because of his great wisdom and counsel. Perhaps the tiny man was like that.