Part 20 (1/2)

”Wait!” Tommy cried. ”What was that?” He grabbed the bars, his heart pounding wildly. ”What's down here?”

The lizard-man looked back at him. ”Spirits of the dead. They're immaterial, and cannot hurt you.”

”Ghosts?” he demanded, aghast. ”You're leaving me down here with ghosts?”

”Fragments of ghosts,” the man corrected. ”Echoes of shattered lives, granted brief autonomy and the illusion of purpose. Some call them soul shards. Don't worry, few men can see them in any detail, and fewer still can make sense of their whispering. I don't expect they'll bother you much.” A faint, cold smile spread across his face. ”Surely not enough to disturb your sleep.”

He motioned to the other two men, who followed him out of the chamber. A few seconds after they rounded a natural turn that took them out of Tommy's line of sight, he heard the strange elevator sound again.

Then there was silence.

No, not silence.

Whispers.

...scared . . .

The disembodied voice was so soft it was almost inaudible. A shadow wisped across the front of Tommy's cell, then vanished.

...so scared . . .

Shaking, he slid down the bars of his cell to the concrete floor. The courage he'd been clinging to so desperately up to now was beginning to crumble. A handful of blue light bulbs in the ceiling was all that stood between him and a nervous breakdown.

Jesse, he swore, if you don't come find me soon, I'm gonna go crazy. Not gamer-crazy. The real thing.

A few of the soul shards began to circle around him. They seemed to find him interesting.

But the lights were still on. So things could be worse.

Right?

23.

VICTORIA FOREST.

VIRGINIA PRIME.

THERE WAS A PTERODACTYL sitting on my chest.

Not a big one. Parrot-sized. Its head was turned to one side, and its little black eye was staring at me. There was no mistaking the profile. A pterodactyl.

”Ah. You're awake.” A man's voice filtered into my awareness. I tried to turn my head toward him, but the motion hurt. Everything hurt.

”Here,” he said, to someone other than me. ”I saved one for you.”

A small fish came flying in my direction. The pterodactyl reached up and snapped it out of the air. One gulp later the fish was gone. The pterodactyl went back to staring at me.

”Brought over from a world where the great asteroid never hit. They were popular pets among the elites for a while. Then the aristos tired of them, like they tire of everything. Here.” He knelt down by my side. ”This will help.”

My chest burned like fire as he helped me to a sitting position. The pterodactyl squawked as it was dislodged, and fluttered off to take up a post on a nearby chair. My left leg, I saw, was swathed in thick bandages. It smelled of herbs. Every inch of my body was sore.

He lifted a cup to my lips.

”What is it?” I whispered hoa.r.s.ely.

”Chicken soup. A thousand worlds have yet to come up with anything better. Drink.”

I did so. Its heat soothed my throat, and my stomach soaked up the nourishment like a sponge. As I handed him back the cup I looked around, ready to face whatever my next trial was to be.

We were in a narrow cave, lit by flickering candles that were lined up in a neat row along a natural ledge at the far end. The chamber had been outfitted as a living s.p.a.ce, albeit a spartan one. The bed I was now sitting on had a rough-hewn frame, and next to it stood a matching table with a single chair. In a dark recess far from the candlelight I saw some rough wooden shelves with a collection of items arranged on them, but I couldn't make out any details. A curtain had been hung across the mouth of the cave, made from some coa.r.s.ely textured cloth. Burlap? There was no light bleeding through it from the outside.

”Where are the others?” I asked. The previous day's events were coming back to me now, along with bodily echoes of fear and exhaustion.

”Waiting outside. Very anxiously, I might add. Which is appropriate, given the condition you were in.”

I put my hand up to my stomach and felt a thick swath of bandages there. My leg was wrapped in linen, with some kind of coin strapped to it. I ached in some places and burned in others, but it was nothing compared to the pain I'd been in the day before. I felt . . . better.

”You're a costly guest,” the Green Man told me, as he saw my eye fall upon the coin. ”The fetters that I used to heal you were worth their weight in gold. Not the sort of thing I usually part with for strangers.”

”Was it necessary?” I asked.

He chuckled softly. ”My dear, you swam in sewage with an open wound across your stomach, not to mention a day spent walking, jumping, and climbing on an ankle which, while not broken, was sorely damaged. Had I a month to heal you, then no, I would not need a Gift to do it. But your friends said that you wouldn't be willing to wait that long-that in fact you would want to jump up to go raid a Shadow's citadel as soon as you were capable of moving again. So other means were required.”

”I didn't swim in sewage,” I muttered.

”But you are planning to raid a Shadow's citadel.”

I flushed a bit. ”Well . . . yeah. Sort of.”

”Then we should get you on your feet right away.” He motioned toward the niche with the shelves. ”There are some clean clothes over there. I regret that none are likely to fit you, but your own clothing is still damp, so choose whatever works the best. I'll let your friends know you're up and about.”

He started toward the burlap curtain, but before he could push it aside, I said, ”Have I . . . have I missed much?”

He looked back at me; the piercing blue eyes seemed to take my measure. ”Several hours of your companions bringing me up to date on American history, punctuated by complaints that I was not answering enough of their questions. The information had enough value to me that it paid for the use of my healing fetter, but nothing you should worry about missing.” He smiled slightly, indicating the coin that was on my leg.

”American history.” I blinked. ”From . . . my America? My world?”

There was a pause. The smile faded. A haunting sadness veiled his expression.

”It was my world once,” he said softly.

Then he pushed the burlap curtain aside-I saw that the world outside was dark, with a tiny fire in the distance-and left me alone in the chamber.