asked.
“They might. Sure, they could. But there’s folks up north along the coast working for the Worm to swallow L.A. and leave their cities alone. The Buddhists up on Mt. Baldy are chanting all the time these days, but no one can figure out what they’re trying to do. Maybe they just don’t know. And the folks here aren’t working stop her. They’re just trying to keep the Worm from going any further inland than here. And guess who they’re drawing some of their power from? Guess!”
I sensed the air, the remnants of currents, and the patterns that lay on the currents, still in motion from recent workings. “These people are drawing some of their power from the magic users in L.A.”
“Not just them,” the Rag Man added.
“Huh,” I said. “No wonder the bears were laughing.”
“Power wielders working together,” Richard said. “That would be a miracle.”
I stared out over the city that was my home. The city I had chosen. I could, after all, just start driving. I’ve heard Colorado is really nice. But here, in this city, I was still in my family’s greater territory. Once I left California, if I staked out territory on some other pack’s mountain, I wasn’t going to be anonymous anymore. Also, my chances of survival might not be very high. Besides. I’d claimed territory here, in this city, and it’s not in my nature to give that up without a fight. Not without doing whatever it takes. Not, in fact, at all.
“So what do we do to save her?” I asked. “How do we beat the World Snake?”
The Rag Man shook his head. “That’s what they keep asking me. And I look and I look, and all I see is darkness. Deep, strange darkness.” He turned and looked at Richard. “Like I saw in you.”
“Look again,” Richard asked him earnestly. “Please. Not for the Worm,” he added, as the Rag Man shook his head. He stepped closer to the man and dropped his voice. “Look for the Eater of Souls.”
“Oh,” said the Rag Man. “That.”
“I must know if it is coming. I must know… if I am to be taken.”
He gave a side-long glance at me, and I had the answer to my question. This is why we were consulting the Rag Man. The city was on the verge of being annihilated, but what Richard wanted to know about was his own personal fate. The Eater of Souls must have done quite a number on Richard. Besides killing him, at least once.
“All right, yeah. I’ll do it.”
The Rag Man walked to the very edge of the hill and sat down. Richard sat down next to him. The cards said my fate was bound up with that of the city, and Richard’s was bound to me, so I followed them and sat down on the Rag Man’s other side, to learn what the Rag Man would discover.
A little ways down the hill, the green, watered, manicured grass of the RV park gave way to the brown of the California hillside, shaved down already for the fire season. The Rag Man sat with one knee up, plucked the seed heads of some dead grass blades, and gathered them in his hand. Richard and I watched as he reached into his pocket and added a pinch of the little paper squares from his lunch. He didn’t seem to be doing a working. He wasn’t raising any energy. I looked over at Richard, and he met my look briefly, meaning for me to be patient, wait, watch. Well. That’s one thing my kind can do, no problem.
The Rag Man felt in his various pockets and added another pinch of something small and green. Rosemary leaves, I knew at once from the smell. The Rag Man reached out to Richard with a smiling query, and Richard bent his head for the Rag Man to pluck a single short yellow hair. He turned the little concoction over and over in his hands, stirred it with his fingers, shook it in both hands, and then opened them.
The wind picked up a few of the papers and blew them away. Some of the rosemary dropped between his fingers. It took me a moment to realize the Rag Man had stiffened, and sat glassy eyed, staring into his hands.
“Oh,” he said, “oh
“They might. Sure, they could. But there’s folks up north along the coast working for the Worm to swallow L.A. and leave their cities alone. The Buddhists up on Mt. Baldy are chanting all the time these days, but no one can figure out what they’re trying to do. Maybe they just don’t know. And the folks here aren’t working stop her. They’re just trying to keep the Worm from going any further inland than here. And guess who they’re drawing some of their power from? Guess!”
I sensed the air, the remnants of currents, and the patterns that lay on the currents, still in motion from recent workings. “These people are drawing some of their power from the magic users in L.A.”
“Not just them,” the Rag Man added.
“Huh,” I said. “No wonder the bears were laughing.”
“Power wielders working together,” Richard said. “That would be a miracle.”
I stared out over the city that was my home. The city I had chosen. I could, after all, just start driving. I’ve heard Colorado is really nice. But here, in this city, I was still in my family’s greater territory. Once I left California, if I staked out territory on some other pack’s mountain, I wasn’t going to be anonymous anymore. Also, my chances of survival might not be very high. Besides. I’d claimed territory here, in this city, and it’s not in my nature to give that up without a fight. Not without doing whatever it takes. Not, in fact, at all.
“So what do we do to save her?” I asked. “How do we beat the World Snake?”
The Rag Man shook his head. “That’s what they keep asking me. And I look and I look, and all I see is darkness. Deep, strange darkness.” He turned and looked at Richard. “Like I saw in you.”
“Look again,” Richard asked him earnestly. “Please. Not for the Worm,” he added, as the Rag Man shook his head. He stepped closer to the man and dropped his voice. “Look for the Eater of Souls.”
“Oh,” said the Rag Man. “That.”
“I must know if it is coming. I must know… if I am to be taken.”
He gave a side-long glance at me, and I had the answer to my question. This is why we were consulting the Rag Man. The city was on the verge of being annihilated, but what Richard wanted to know about was his own personal fate. The Eater of Souls must have done quite a number on Richard. Besides killing him, at least once.
“All right, yeah. I’ll do it.”
The Rag Man walked to the very edge of the hill and sat down. Richard sat down next to him. The cards said my fate was bound up with that of the city, and Richard’s was bound to me, so I followed them and sat down on the Rag Man’s other side, to learn what the Rag Man would discover.
A little ways down the hill, the green, watered, manicured grass of the RV park gave way to the brown of the California hillside, shaved down already for the fire season. The Rag Man sat with one knee up, plucked the seed heads of some dead grass blades, and gathered them in his hand. Richard and I watched as he reached into his pocket and added a pinch of the little paper squares from his lunch. He didn’t seem to be doing a working. He wasn’t raising any energy. I looked over at Richard, and he met my look briefly, meaning for me to be patient, wait, watch. Well. That’s one thing my kind can do, no problem.
The Rag Man felt in his various pockets and added another pinch of something small and green. Rosemary leaves, I knew at once from the smell. The Rag Man reached out to Richard with a smiling query, and Richard bent his head for the Rag Man to pluck a single short yellow hair. He turned the little concoction over and over in his hands, stirred it with his fingers, shook it in both hands, and then opened them.
The wind picked up a few of the papers and blew them away. Some of the rosemary dropped between his fingers. It took me a moment to realize the Rag Man had stiffened, and sat glassy eyed, staring into his hands.
“Oh,” he said, “oh
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