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while I m out here, I ll keep my feelers open for any trouble. But I can t leave these folks vulnerable, and you don t want Jake to be here for what happens next. Just be careful. Page 110 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Lauren looked like she wanted to argue. But after starting to say something and then stopping herself in mid-breath, she just nodded. I ll see all of you when you re finished. When she was gone, Heyr turned to face them all, and he wasn t smiling anymore. Now it gets hard. Right now, you are old gods here, Heyr said. But you are not immortal. Immortality is a burden you have to pick up for yourself. I can tell you how to do it, but I can t do it for you. And I can t help you if it proves to be more than you can take. All I can tell you is that you can let go, go back to being what you are right now, and we can either change you back to what you were before, or you can run downworld far enough that the Night Watch won t look for you. Pete and Eric exchanged grim looks. Eric said, I hired temp coverage from Laurinburg for a couple of days. We can both do this right now so long as at least one of us is able to function by Tuesday. The others were nodding. Three-day weekend, Terry said. For me, it s now or not until much later. There isn t going to be a good time for me, Betty Kay said. I just put a message on the machine saying I was sick and referring everyone to Scott s. It ll cost the shop some business, but& I m not really here for the business anyway, fun though it is. We re ready, June Bug said. What do we have to do? The first time, it s easiest if you lie flat on the ground. Face up or face down doesn t matter. Naked is best, but so long as you have bare skin in contact with the ground you ll be able to find the world pulse. Your will is your word here now what you say will be, as if you were on any of your downworlds. He sighed. Come on outside. It s easier if I show you. Darlene said, It s& raining out there. Pete found Heyr s reaction to that genuinely funny. Heyr told her, First rule of immortality. Sometimes you get wet. Everyone else laughed, and after a moment even Darlene managed a little chuckle. They followed Heyr out to Lauren s backyard, with the thick centipede grass turned brown for the coming winter, with the soft faraway hissing of the tires of cars driving down wet streets far from where they stood, with the echo of the voices of kids unseen playing in the rain. It was cold out, and dreary. But not unbearable. Heyr sat on the wet grass. It doesn t matter where you lie down just find yourself a place where your fingers can push through the grass down to dirt. You want to have a clear contact with the ground. Pete dropped to the ground and sprawled on his back. Eric and George and Terry and June Bug did the same. Both Darlene and Betty Kay hesitated, looking at each other with shared expressions of distaste. And then Betty Kay sighed and sat down on the wet grass, and sighed again and lay down. After a moment, Darlene muttered Whatever, and followed suit. The hard, sharp blades of centipede grass dug into Pete s neck. He pressed his hands palm down on the lawn, burrowing the tips of his fingers down to dirt. Got it, he said. The others announced their readiness. Heyr said, Close your eyes and exhale until your lungs are as empty as you can make them, and when you inhale, don t just breathe in air. Breathe in the life of the world. Pull it up through your fingertips and the back of your head, through the backs of your legs, through your shoulders, through your loins. See yourself planted like a tree, with roots made of air very important that you see the roots made of air, or we re going to have to cut you loose and start over drinking in your nourishment from the planet and breathing out magic the way trees breathe out oxygen. Pete started forcing the air from his lungs. Heyr added, And don t panic when what comes in hurts. It hurts a lot but the pain won t kill you. Just let it come. How bad could it be? Really? With his lungs empty to the point of aching, Pete Page 111 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html closed his eyes and tried to feel roots of air digging into the ground, pulling in sustenance. The life of the planet, he thought. Green growing things, and animals in forests, and fish in the water. Good stuff. He pulled and the first sharp blades of pain slid beneath his skin. Don t block it, he told himself. Don t block it. Let it come. Birth and death. Treachery and betrayal. Poison poured into the air, into the water, into the ground. The movement of tanks and submarines and missiles and troops, war blood-red and angry as open wounds, cities torn and people slaughtered. Forests living and breathing, forests uprooted. Storms tearing across the surface of the planet, volcanoes heaving up the guts of the world in violent spasms, earthquakes ripping the planet and its people flesh from bone. Birth babies, human and not, all moving into the world, welcome or unwelcome but alive. Alive. The thin threads of life gave him something to hang on to, something to cling to. The massive outpouring of death was railroad spikes driven into his flesh, into his blood, into his soul until he wanted to scream or die. Pete gritted his teeth and the sweat poured from his face and the drizzling rain became cooling, soothing, but not enough not nearly enough while the clashing fury of the world in its turmoil, spasming in its death throes, screamed in his head. He was the murderer of a child, and he was the child; he was the rapist in the alley and the rapist s victim; he was every boy on his belly in the dirt with an M-16 in his hands, thinking of home and girl, and he was them when the mortars blew them apart. He was the penitent praying, Who am I that Thou art mindful of me? and the angry man praying, Let them suffer, the perverted bastards and when they ve suffered on Earth, let them burn in Hell forever. And he was the powerful liars in high places, scheming for profit and dealing the death of the world with contracts, and he was the trees falling and the wildlife burning in fires and he was burning and freezing to death, and the babble of six billion voices roared in his head with every voice different and every pain unique. He sobbed, writhed, choked on bile, arched against the in-rushing torture, fighting to break free from something that wrapped him like an airless cocoon and would not let him breathe or let him go. A thunderclap in his head shook him just a little just enough to wedge a familiar voice to the front of his overwhelmed mind. & wall, Pete. You have to build a wall. When you feel it, you can t let yourself feel it all. See a wall [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |