Volume One: The Road Out
Chapter Three
Verse Eight: Exit, Pursued by Hound
"Did that work, do you think?" Marion asked Mrs Trilby, his neighbour from his old life and also apparently, a secret witch.
"I don't know dear, You've got the Bone Man watching them and to look closer would draw his attention back to you and back to me. I'm not the Storyteller, I'm just one of the witches. We don't have the power the main characters in the story have. We meddle and sting the enemy, we delay and obscure, we mentor the heroes. But the story doesn't give us enough power to actually change things, and any of us who do seek greater power, almost inevitably end up villains corrupted by the Locust King or one of the old ones; or else something goes horribly wrong."
"I don't understand what you mean. A witch sounds pretty powerful."
"It does, doesn't it? But look at the stories. We give warnings or omens, we provide weapons or charms or spells. We act as mentors and gatekeepers. The Lady of the Lake giving Arthur Excalibur or Obi-Won Kenobi giving Luke his lightsaber, that's the sort of thing the story set us up to do."
"I thought Arthur drew the sword from the stone?"
"It depends on the story dear. In some versions one happened, in other versions the other happened," Mrs. Trilby said, "In some versions, Arthur had two swords and both happened: a sword of war and a sword of peace. I have no idea what a sword of peace could be. Bizarre idea. But the point is, we're helpers and testers, tricksters and betrayers, but never on a grand scale. Since the fall of the story, we've worked to hinder the Locust King and his empire, little acts of disobedience and sabotage. Grand heroic quests are the purview of the young. If you survive long enough to grow old, you might end up a witch or a wizard when somebody replaces you as Dreamer. "
"Speaking of survival, how do I do that? What's next? The kids say that we need to meet the Witch Doctor. The problem is that I don't know who he is, let alone where he is. Is he a witch?"
"No dear." Mrs. Trilby paused and hummed a bit, as though considering how to word things, "He's exactly like you, a storyteller. Only further along in the story. Your friend is looking for him, but you boys don't know how to find him, so you'll need guides. There's the Bonelands and the Shadowlands. And he's not in the Shadowlands where you're walking right now so that's a problem. I can sense you and your friends on the witch road right now, little points of magnetic force under my iron pendulum. You'll need help. Witches or wizards to guide you. I can only do so much from here. You should find locals. Witches don't disappear, they adapt."
"Wait. What's the difference between a wizard and a witch? And what do you mean further along the story? So am I trapped in a different story then?" Marion asked.
"No dear, it's all the same story. But the story is very big. It's like a globe, you can't lay it flat to form a single accurate picture of the world. Every map distorts things a little. It's the same thing with the story dear. We must view it from different angles, from different points of view."
"Okay. Can I ask something really big then. We've been running none stop and people have been describing what's happening to us as a story. Why? What does that mean?"
"We tell stories dear. Humans do. We tell them to make sense of the world, and through these stories we anticipate the world and adapt to it and survive in it. My cats, and any other predators, see the future, or rather guess the future. And of course a guess is just a story about what we think shall happen. It's how we control our experience of the world. And when people get together, they tell bigger stories that explain how those people decide the world aught to be. And everyone who lives in that group, that tribe has to work within the story that the group agrees upon, whether they like it or not. If they really object, they either have to try to change the story or leave the group. The Locust King changed the story, but then he went and grew an empire across all the other stories. Nobody could leave his story, there was virtually nowhere that his story didn't dominate the landscape. We were all trapped in his story. And when we enter somebody's life, we enter their story and fill a role within that story. When we act in opposition to somebody's story, we become their enemy or their villain or their monster in the dark. And so everyone who told the old story was either corrupted, destroyed or transformed into a villain. The lucky few manage to escape the reach of the Locust King's story. When we step outside somebody's story, we confound them and become invisible. "
"So, the world will be transformed into something better if Harley and I help Maia and Fitzroy do their thing?"
"No dear, the world sustained by the old story will be freed. To steal a metaphor, it will be resurrected after dying at the hands of the empire. Oh my. Listen to my. I've gone and internalized my cover story. Now isn't that a thing?"
"How do I help Harley and the gang find the witches?"
"Well you're straddling the light and the shadow right now, you're almost certainly broadcasting, probably mumbling like an old prophet, I shouldn't wonder. So they might know already, but keep talking dear, that will up the odds. You should stop talking to me though. These calls aren't untraceable and the land your in is completely under the thrall of the Locust King, you're in his house and he has eyes everywhere. Good Luck dear, call me when you're able and try not to get killed too horribly."
* * *
"We've been driving all day. And pretty much all of last night too. We need to sleep." Harley said, as the goblin bounced over rocks and slight ruts that Fitzroy swore up and down were roads. In the back, Marion mumbled in the driver's seat mostly unintelligibly.
"I can still feel the hound." Fitzroy said uncertainly, "I can't tell how close though. I can't see the hound, only the rippled on the witch road when it distorts things. Its not too close, but its still coming."
"Marion's talking about the witch road," Maia said from the back seat.
"What's he saying?" Harley asked without looking back, "I can't hear him from up here."
"He's talking about how we need to find witches to guide us on the witch road."
"I haven't heard anything about witches before this,' Harley answered, "Doesn't he mean the witch doctor guy?"
"He isn't saying witch doctor, he's just saying witches."
"More complications." Harley said, his voice neutral.
* * *
Marion looked at the farm, corn stalks were wreathed in bean shoots crawling upwards and he could see squash growing at the base of the stalks. the pale wendigo seemed undecided as to whether they should gorge themselves on the clearly not yet ripe crops or attempt to feast upon the couple wielding pitchfork and shovel to ward keep the wendigo away from the two children huddling against the wall of the cottage. Marion guessed that the family was part of the Locust King's empire from their clothes, which had a distinctly medieval peasant look, and that they would probably attack him as soon as he dispatched the wendigo. But still, the children were terrified and Marion couldn't stand by.
"I'm getting to be a regular superhero." He muttered to himself, calling the tomahawks into his hands. "I need a freaking cape and logo."
Marion reached out and felt the flow, flow he was starting to suspect related to the story and probably the plot. He felt the flow and connected with it, let it draw him up and guide him like wind. And then he was moving, running down the hill, a hurricane with twin tomahawks.
The family saw him coming, and he could see that they were unsure if he was there to help them or make things worse. The Wendigo did not see Marion until it was far to late.
* * *
The Bone Man stared at the knight who had initiated the ritual and shook his head, only once, then said, "Your failure has compromised the operation and has damaged my standing with the King. He is sending additional troops, Knights of Unity, not ours. And he is calling the Princeling home. To learn, he says. We have disappointed him. We cannot falter again. Failure cannot happen again."
"Of course not sir" the knight said, his words rushing out and tripping over themselves in their hurry.
"Then we are in agreement. I am pleased that you understand. Your replacement will be inspired by the lesson I hope. Now close your eyes and think of the empire."
As the Bone Man spoke, the face of the knight transformed from a tense smile to an open mouthed gape. He seemed to attempt to speak, but never managed to find the words. And finally, as the Bone Man stopped speaking, he simply nodded and closed his eyes.
The other knights turned to look away.
A scream of pain pierced the silence. And then the Bone Man spoke, "we are pure once more. Onwards."
* * *
The Wendigo lay dead, piled outside the fenced off garden and now attracting flies. The family Marion had saved, consisting of Ana Lee and her husband johnboy and their twin daughters Edie and Ellie, had not turned on Marion after the confrontation was over. Rather, they had invited him in and served him a meal of polenta, their last winter squash, refried beans and something that they claimed was beef but tasted like venison. Marion had not seen any cows outside. A small fenced enclosure held pigs. Another small coop housed chickens that had run free before the Wendigo found them. The handful of survivors now huddled in the coop in fear. But Marion had not seen any evidence of cows on the tiny homestead. He had seen a wooded area up the hill to the south.
Marion didn't ask why they would tell him that venison was beef. He could guess. They thanked him. And the girls, who were maybe five, asked him all sorts of questions that he deflected so as not to scare them. The cabin was a one room affair with a kitchen area and a sleeping area and not much else save for an alter in the west facing corner. Two corn husk dolls sat upon the altar, and initially, Marion had thought they were just toys.
Upon a second viewing, Marion noticed that the dolls were positioned as part of a diorama. The corn husk dolls were of male and female design. The woman was depicted with an enormous spider and spreading web behind her, all made of wood and corn husks and twine. The man was depicted with a huge corn husk serpent coiling around him. The serpent had heads at both ends of its body, depicted with the skulls of lizards.
Johnboy saw Marion staring and moved his large body to block Marion's view.
"I thought you guys served the Locust King? Aren't those..."
"The Knights of Purity knocked down all the old standing stones and burned all the old ancestor poles. The Knights of Unity made sure anyone who survived the war joined the empire, and the Knights of Purity made sure that anyone who don't join was never seen again. You serve the King in public or you get purified. What you do in private, you don't talk about." Johnboy said.
"Stories go into hiding. People are still telling the story, but the community isn't. I wonder what that means?" Marion mused out loud.
"It means you're thinking thoughts that are going to get you killed."
"I'm a dreamer, that's what I do." Marion answered, and watched both Johnboy and his wife stiffen.
"You need to go, now." Ana Lee said, standing and wringing her hands.
"You're afraid I'll put you at risk." Marion said.
"I'm afraid we've put you at risk. The empire, watches at best it can. If you are within the bounds of its story, it will see you. The altar is not their story, inside the four walls of our home, the empire is likely blind, but our farm outside belongs to the empire. It almost certainly knows you are here, and will have sensed what you are. You need to run."
"Will you be okay? If it knows who I am?"
"Only if it thinks we know as well. We will hide our altar, and do as we always do. Big players like the King and the Chieftains and the Prince strut about acting like they know more than they do. The rest of us survive by acting like we know less than we do. Now run."
Marion ran. He wasn't sure for how long, but it felt like an hour or more. Marion couldn't accurately gauge time in this world. He didn't look back until he reached wooded hill. When he looked back the farm was in flames and tiny figures in white were swarming across the burning farmstead.
* * *
The campfire sputtered as Maia slept curled in the front seat of the Cricket. Marion was still stuffed in the back of the Cricket and still muttering. Fitzroy and Harley sat by the campfire at yet another government camp grounds trying to look normal to the few other families camping. They had chosen the most isolated spot and were trying to rest as best they could. The camp site was spartan. They had a bucket, provided by the camp grounds, filled with water to put out the fire. The site had a fire pit, but no picnic table. They had one sleeping bag, no tent and no camp stove or cooler.
Harley was trying not to doze off, and hoping Fitzroy might finally be able to sleep when Marion's muttering rose back to an audible level.
"You're afraid I'll put you at risk." Marion said in a worried tone.
Maia climbed out of the Cricket, "Mr. Marion's talking again." She said as she walked over to Harley.
"I heard," Harley acknowledged, "It doesn't sound good either."
The campfire suddenly flared and began coalescing into a vaguely human form. Maia ducked under the Cricket as the flames rose. Harley stood up to face the fire.
"Somebody has left the phone off the hook." A voice in the flame said, "Inexperience, I imagine. That must be a problem for your side. Mortality is not an asset in a game played over such a long time. We remain and learn how best to win. You die of conflict or simple age and must relearn each time. How will you beat us?"
"Who's there?" Fitzroy asked looking up
"I am not here. But let us speak in any case. I have chased you. And thus far you have eluded me. But you cannot escape me. Every slip, every error and I draw closer."
The image in the flames came clear and the Bone Man stood looking at Harley and Fitzroy. The night seemed to deepen around the campfire and soon Harley could not see anything outside the, now white hot, glow of the fire. The howl of the hound sounded just outside the circle of light. Again the howl sounded, the same distance away but from a different angle.
"It's circling us." Fitzroy said, putting a hand to his head in obvious pain.
"I am keeping it at bay for you, not out of generosity, but to make an offer. You may accept my offer, and I shall draw you to me. Or, you may turn it down, and I will let the hound in."
"I doubt we'll like the offer." Harley said.
"Does that mean you refuse?"
"I didn't say that. We'll listen." Harley answered.
"My offer is simple. Step out of the story, and allow the hound to deal with the children. Do this and you will be allowed to go free, and we will even reward you. Power, wealth, success, your lives back and more. We can give you a purity of meaning to your life that you currently lack, a direction and a focus- a real mission and not this meandering flight to nothing."
Fitzroy looked apprehensively at Harley who had been listening quietly. Harley shook his head.
"I've listened to you, but I'm not interested in wealth or success at the cost of my honour and self-respect, and Marion would say the same if he were lucid."
The Bone Man closed his eyes and tilted his head skyward for a moment and then returned to staring at Harley, "Then consider the other part of the offer. Amnesty. Your life back. You won't die. You won't be arrested for kidnapping and murder of federal agents and the increasingly horrifying list of charges your world has laid upon your mortal shoulders."
Harley turned away from the Bone Man and from Fitzroy and clasped his hands behind his back. He looked down at the ground in silence.
Fitzroy watched silently. The Bone Man watched Fitzroy with an expression that Fitzroy could only classify as hunger.
"Your days of rebellion are all but finished boy. We always win." The Bone Man said to Fitzroy as Harley stood silently inspecting the earth in front of his feet.
Fitzroy shook his head, "You haven't caught us yet."
"Your nanny will see my logic. Surrender is better than the fangs of the Hound and the oblivion it offers."
"Oblivion doesn't scare me," Harley said, turning back around, "That's what I expect to great me when I die. Why should I fear what is, by definition, nothing? It takes a pretty big ego to fear non-existence."
"You may not fear death," The Bone Man said, crossing his arms, "But surely you fear the dying, as the hound tears your essence to pieces and destroys you little by little."
"We aren't agreeing to your offer." Harley said, shaking his head as the hound howled just outside the light, "I listened. I told you I would, I'm nice that way. But I didn't hear a reasonable offer. So no, I'm not accepting your offer."
"Then I guess I must let the hound in."
"I guess you will."
"You won't!" Maia yelled as she scrambled out from under the Cricket and grabbed the water bucket.
The Bone Man looked down at her in surprise as she flung the whole bucket onto the fire with a defiant hiss. Smoke billowed and the Bone Man began to fade from view. He smiled.
"You have no weapons that can hurt the hound. You cannot run from hound. This changes nothing. It will follow the smell of your fear wherever you run."
As the fire died, the outside light seemed to return, seeping back in like a cautious puppy afraid of being kicked. One corner remained dark, the light sucked from the area by the hound as it stood across the dying fire from Harley.
"Any ideas guys?" Harley asked.
"Run for the Cricket?" Maia said.
Harley looked back at the Cricket to see the cab and hood caked in glittering white frost.
"I don't think that's an option." He said.
"Have you noticed?" Fitzroy said, "They way people talk about the Hound?"
The hound growled.
"You mean that you can't run?" Harley asked.
"has anyone tried not running?" Fitzroy asked.
At this the hound stopped and cocked its head.
"I think that if they did, they eliminated themselves from the pool of people who are able to talk about the hound." Harley said.
"But everyone is telling us that this is a story. Because what if the person who didn't run was one of the main characters?"
"Main characters can die, Fitzroy. Every tells us that too. Why would you even try?" Harley said.
"Because then you'll have time to get me sister out of here." Fitzroy said and then he stepped over the cooling embers of the fire towards the hound.
The hound took cautious step back as the teenager marched forward, fists clenched and knees shaking. The hound howled again and Fitzroy's pace stuttered, but then he steadied himself and kept advancing. harley watched and Fitzroy seemed to have an aura around him, as though he were drawing up or emanating some sort of power. The hound howled again, and Harley though the howl sounded off, maybe a little desperate. Fitzroy closed on the hound's position and the hound looked around and then when it seemed convinced that Fitzroy wasn't stopping it began frantically backing up, front legs stumbling over back legs as the teenaged boy bore down on the now terrified creature of shadow and darkness.
"You can't eat me!" Fitzroy yelled, a little shrilly, "I'm not afraid of you!"
Harley wasn't sure he believed what he was hearing from Fitzroy, but the hound finally turned and scrambled away tail between it's legs. Harley shook his head.
Fitzroy turned and walked back towards the campsite, but Harley noted that he seemed winded and staggered a little bit as he walked.
"I guess I am one of the main characters." Fitzroy said as he walked up, "Because I just scared off the scariest thing I've ever seen."
"You did good." Harley said, watching the teen closely.
"I feel a little fried though, kind of used up." He staggered again, and harley stepped towards him, catching Fitzroy as he started to fall.
"Fitz!" Maia cried as Harley caught him.
"I think I need to rest a minute, because things are getting awfully heavy, Fitzroy said, his pupils dilating as he spoke, "Because the Witch Road is getting really heavy. I think I'm sinking into it."
"Fitz?" Maia asked, running up beside them.
"He's spaced out. Like Marion I think." Harley said.
"No! He can't!" Maia cried, dropping to her knees before saying quietly, "He figured out how to find the witch doctor guy and he could see the witch road thing and now two of us are zombie guys and, and I need my brother, and I'm scared."
Harley needed both hands to carry Fitzroy and so he heaved the catatonic teen over to the Cricket and buckled him into the back seat. he kept an eye out for the Hound, but it didn't reappear. Closing the door, he heard Marion still mumbling about witches.
Harley shook his head, "Fine. Let's go find ourselves a witch."
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