The Nothing: A Book of the Between (5 page)

The city was nowhere to be seen. He and Kraal were alone in a grassy space enclosed by a high wall. At the center gleamed a small pond. Kraal forestalled any questions.

“You, little man, are going to have a bath.”

Jared stared dully at the pond. A bathtub would have been welcome, a place to lie down and soak away the dirt, to let the heat ease his muscles. Although he wasn’t sure what the effect of hot water would be on his leg, and he was pretty sure hot water wasn’t good for a fever. But neither was sudden immersion in a cold pond. In any case, he was too weak to swim.

Kraal lifted him down from the horse and then held him on his feet as his knees gave way.

“None too early,” the Giant said, letting Jared sink slowly down into the grass. “No, don’t lie down. Drink this.”

A flask appeared at his mouth. The first sip was bitter and he tried to turn away, but Kraal held his head in the iron grip of one hand and poured the bitter liquid down his throat with the other. Jared swallowed to keep from choking. A delicious coolness spread from his throat and stomach out into his limbs. His head cleared. Kraal released him and stepped back a little.

“That will hold for a few minutes. Now, clothes off.”

Jared shook his head. He was not going to strip. Enough of his dignity had been compromised already and he felt well enough to care again.

Kraal didn’t ask twice. He simply bent down and tore the front of Jared’s tunic, stripping it off of his body. As the big hands reached toward his breeches, he scooted backward in the grass.

“All right, all right. Give me a second.”

He tried to get to his feet, but the bad leg wouldn’t work and whatever miracle medicine he’d been given hadn’t restored his strength enough to let him overcome its dead weight. So, he wiggled out of the breeches by lifting first one hip and then the other. It felt almost good to get his healthy leg out of the itchy wool and into fresh air. The wounded leg was another story.

At sight of it, he gasped in dismay, choking on the overpowering stench emanating from the wound. His stomach heaved and he gagged. Flesh was literally rotting away from the bone. What was left of the skin on his lower leg was mottled green and black, with livid red streaks running up into the thigh. A blister the size of his hand swelled above the knee, filled to near bursting with a dark green fluid. The dull ivory gleam of bone made his head spin, but Kraal was dragging him to his feet.

“Don’t look,” the Giant said. “It will be better soon.”

It seemed that walking under his own steam, rather than being dragged or carried, was the last bit of humanity left to him, and he stumbled and staggered toward the pool, Kraal ever right beside him. When he reached the edge of the pond, he wished again that he’d stayed in Surmise. Maybe this pool was a cure for Giants, but he was pretty sure it would be the end of him.

The water was very deep but clear all the way to a bottom lined with flat, black stone. The sides were smooth and steep. Once in, there was no way out without help. He looked at Kraal and then at the water. It all came down to trust, and he wasn’t at all confident that the Giant would pull him out before he drowned.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the pond teemed with flat-bodied silver fish, all equipped with sharp little white teeth. They swam together in a tight school, darting this way, then that. They looked a lot like piranhas, in fact, and Jared took a cautious step away from the steep edge.

“In with you,” Kraal said. “You asked for the cure of the Giants. I can’t take you to the Queen rotting away like carrion.”

Jared had been managing to hold his nausea at bay, but the rotting leg and the circling fish were too much for him. Leaning forward, he vomited a thin, bitter stream into the pool. A flash of silver and the fish were on it, cleaning the water so fast, he only had time to blink before they were back to their regular pattern.

“Get in,” Kraal ordered.

Jared shook his head, mute, stumbling backward.

He met resistance. A big hand pressed against the flat of his back, shoving him forward and off balance. Arms windmilling madly, he fought the momentum that drove him toward the pool. And then his feet were no longer on earth, his flapping arms doing nothing to hold him back.

The icy water immobilized his limbs at first contact and made him gasp. He went under. Water filled his nose and burned in the back of his throat. Panic kicked his body into action and he churned his way back to the surface, gagging and spluttering. He wouldn’t be able to stay afloat long, not with the cold water already leaching the strength from his muscles. Vertical walls rose several feet above his head, smooth and slick with moisture.

“Get me out!” he shouted up at Kraal, but the Giant stood calmly watching and made no move to intervene. The fish closed in, swimming in tight circles, their slick sides brushing Jared’s skin, tails flicking. A tugging sensation on his leg drew his eyes down to see silver scales and flashes of sharp white teeth as they darted in and away, tearing off loose flesh and then retreating, only to be replaced by their fellows. Blood swirled into the water, red first, then pink.

“Kraal, please get me out of here. I’ll do anything you want, I swear...”

Blood increased the frenzy of the fish. Jared splashed and struggled, kicking at them with his good leg, shooing with his hands, but they were quicksilver and he could no more catch and hold them than he could hold the water. His flesh had begun to shiver and jerk with cold and terror, teeth chattering.

Kraal’s booming laughter came down to him from above. “Relax, little man. They are wound cleaners. They only eat the dead flesh. Your cock and balls are safe enough.”

It was true that they touched no other part of his flesh with their teeth. And what they did was painless. He felt the pressure, little tugs and pushes, but that was all. As he calmed and was able to pay more attention, he realized they were doing more than eating, circling the leg, over and over again, brushing against it with their bodies, almost like a purring cat looking for attention.

“You might have told me,” he was able to gasp after a moment. “That they wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You have so little trust. I told you they were for healing. If I had wanted to kill you, I could have found easier ways than carrying you all the way here. Looks like they’re done—let’s get you out of there before you freeze to death and their efforts are wasted.”

The Giant knelt at the pool’s edge and reached down a hand. Jared glanced at the fish. They swam around the outer edge of the pool in perfect synchrony, as if he no longer existed. Reaching up both hands, he clung to Kraal’s while the Giant lifted him effortlessly up onto dry land.

A gigantic towel descended around his shoulders, falling all the way to his feet like a robe.

“Hand towel for a Giant,” Kraal said with his grating laugh. “How does the leg feel?”

Jared tested it, surprised to find it felt more or less normal. A little loss of sensation. No pain. He looked down with some trepidation, expecting to find the flesh stripped to the bone. What he saw made him bend down to look more closely.

All of the sloughing dead flesh was gone. He could see far too much bone for comfort, but healthy muscle was also visible. Wherever he lacked intact and healthy flesh or skin, a clear, thick layer of what looked like gel filled the empty space. When he touched it, the surface was firm but flexible.

His gaze flicked back to the pool and the circling fish. “Where do they come from?”

“One of the Dreamworlds. Nystan, the great hunter, was once badly burned while battling a dragon. Seeing a pond, he threw himself into the water, hoping it would soothe his burning. When the fish surrounded him, his heart filled with fear and dread that his glorious life of conquest would be ended in such an ignominious way. He discovered the same thing you have. When he returned to the kingdom with the tale, his burns coated with invisible skin, those wiser led a party to catch and transplant the fish here for our use.”

“It’s incredible,” Jared said. He walked a few steps, testing the leg. If he concentrated, he could walk with very little limp, although the absence of muscle was apparent. He wouldn’t be running races or anything, but this was infinitely better than an amputation, and covered by a pair of pants, the deformity would be unnoticeable.

A giddy rush of emotion washed through him as the specter of deformity and pity faded. He’d conjured up a vision of himself sitting in the parking lot outside the local Walmart with a hand-lettered sign, begging for handouts. But when he managed to get back to his own place, surely he could go back to the life Vivian and Zee had dragged him away from.

Then he caught sight of Kraal’s face and his hopeful thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind. He had no way back, and he now owed a debt to a Giant. He had no doubt that Kraal could snap his back like a matchstick, one-handed and without breaking a sweat, if he tried to break faith.

Fear filled belly and throat with acid, and he had to swallow twice before he found his voice. “Now what?” he asked.

“Now we find you clothes and shelter. And then we take you to the Queen.”

V
IVIAN
STAGGERED
, slowing her pace a little to try to catch her breath, nearly impossible despite the shirt tied over nose and mouth to keep out the sand. Her face and arms, exposed to the scouring sand, felt like they’d been flayed. Poe, clasped tightly in her arms, was no longer moving and she worried the sand had been too much for him.

Callyn’s broad back, her only landmark, faded out of sight and Vivian pushed herself to walk faster. Zee walked somewhere beside her, moving in and out of her peripheral vision, depending on the vagaries of the wind. She hoped the little dragon was still following, but she couldn’t see him at all. As long as they all held together and kept moving in one direction, there was hope of walking out of this part of the Between.

A lot of ifs. She tried not to think about the possibility that Callyn was leading them about in circles. Heart thudding with fear of losing him, Vivian looked around for Zee. He was there, just behind her left shoulder, head bent, face shielded to the eyes by the flimsy barrier of a shirt. She cringed at the thought of what this sandblasting would do to the unhealed gash on his arm, the scars on his face. Nothing to be done now, though. Not until they were safe.

If there was any safety to be had. Horrible to die here, like this, lost and at the mercy of the wind. As if some malign fate had just been waiting for that thought, the wind shifted direction. Braced against its force and then struck from the other side, she toppled, hitting the ground. Poe slipped from her grasp and she lost him. The wind rolled her a time or two before backing off. She lay where it dropped her, holding the T-shirt over her mouth and nose and trying to catch her breath while looking around for the others.

Scrabbling near her for Poe, she thought she touched feathers, but the next instant, there was only dust. The only thing she could see was the brown air.

“Zee!” She tried to scream, but choked on the dust caked in her throat. When she tried again, she couldn’t hear her own voice over the shrieking of the wind.

Down here on the ground, the dust was even thicker. Her breath caught in her throat. When she tried to get up, her legs wouldn’t support her and the wind shoved her down flat on her belly. Wild voices moaned and wailed all around her, wordless, like spirits of the damned.

Again she groped around for Poe, stretching her arms as far as they could reach, dragging herself forward on her elbows. The fingers of her right hand brushed something soft. Straining until it felt like her shoulder would separate from its socket, she managed to get a handful of feathers. With all of her remaining strength, she pulled against the resistance, felt it give and come closer. The wind fought her but she clenched her teeth and tugged again. And again, until she had the little penguin safely snugged against her breast.

He wasn’t moving. His feathers felt like grit and dust. She couldn’t see, and her strength was failing. Forcing herself to focus, she reached out with her mind for a door. As dangerous as the Dreamworlds were just now, if she stayed here she was going to die. If she could make it through a door, there was at least a chance of survival.

It was hard to concentrate. Every breath was a struggle requiring her attention. But she thought she felt the tug of a dream door not far off. Clutching Poe with one arm, she tried to scramble upright. And again she failed, the blood draining from her head and leaving her dizzy and half unconscious.

When she could move again, she stayed flat on the ground, crawling until her legs refused even that and she found herself inching forward, wormlike. Even with the shirt tied around her face, down low like this, there seemed more dirt than air. Only her will kept her moving, until even that was no longer enough.

She drifted in and out of awareness. And then came completely clear, just long enough to realize that she wasn’t moving anymore. Just lying there with her cheek pillowed in the dirt, head turned away from the wind. This position allowed for her to get some air, and she gulped it in. Deep breaths set her coughing, though, her body turning itself half inside out to get rid of irritants in her air passages.