Greg Bear Songs of Earth 02 The Serpent Mage

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know. Ask yourself where you are." Tarax turned, and the door swung open. The
Sidhe reached out with his long fingers and ripped the door apart, letting it
drift in dusty shards to the floor. The wind ceased its whine.
"How?" Michael asked, frightened again.
Tarax faded, and then he was gone.
Michael trembled and stared at his hand. Already he could feel the memory of
this experience slipping away and the dreary grief returning. He looked upon
the house as a refuge, a place where he could grieve in comfort; it seemed
suited to him, since he had lost everything.
He bit his lip and wriggled his fingers. "Where am I?" he asked. He thought of
the floorplan and the
There was no piano in the house. This was not Waltiri's house, and Waltiri was
not his father.
brick patio and white wrought-iron table, which Kristine had never seen, much
less sat behind, and the figure in the flounced dress, Tristesse, that had
been somebody something else.
It was so simple. He reached his hand through the air not across but through
the intervening space
and tore aside the dream. Then he stepped through the descending ruins of
Clarkham's trap.
And stood (shadows slipping away from him)
In the middle
(dust on the floor, a single track of footprints)
Of the upstairs room in Clarkham's house.
Rare summer rain fell on the roof, a sound so simple and soothing that he
closed his eyes and listened for almost a minute before walking down the
stairs and out the front door.
He had not been trapped in Clarkham's house; that much he knew almost
immediately upon returning.
Clarkham had created a crude and simple world for him and held him there. The
house had not even been an integral part of it; where he had lived had seemed
a mix of the Waltiri house, Clarkham's, and even parts of the house next door
to Clarkham's.
Michael walked slowly up the walk to the Waltiri home, exhausted but inwardly
reveling, each breath he inhaled like an intoxicating liquor.
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Bear, Greg - Songs of Earth and Power Vol. 2 - The Serpent Mage
How long had he been away?
"Finally home!" Robert Dopso stared at him from his own porch.
"How long have I been gone?" Michael asked.
"Long enough, believe me. Just long enough for everything to go to hell. Your
folks have been by here several times, talking to Mother and me& "
"Kristine? Have you heard from Kristine Pendeers?"
Dopso frowned. "Nobody else& Your parents mentioned a somebody-or-other
Moffat. No women. I've got your newspapers here those that have been
delivered. The city's a shambles. Nothing's on time or reliable now."
"Why?"
"Haunts," Dopso said, shaking his head. "It's been at least a month since we
saw you last."
Michael unlocked the door and entered, hoping vaguely that Kristine might be
waiting, but the house was empty. Forearmed now, he probed deeply for signs of
Clarkham, physical or otherwise, but found no evidence of him.
Dopso came up to the open doorway with .an armful of newspapers. "Where should
I put these?" he asked. "And your mail, too. Not much of that."
Michael indicated the couch. Dopso deposited the pile and stood, wiping his
hands on his pants. "I've been thinking," he said, "that maybe it's time you
give Mother and me the full story. I've had time to sort a few things out
that fellow who shot himself and disappeared. We both decided that if anybody
knows what's going on, it must be you. We'd be very grateful if you'd let us
know."
"AH right," Michael said. "Let me catch up, and I'll come over this evening.
What time is it?"
Dopso checked his watch. "Five-thirty."
"Make it eight."
Dopso nodded, stood for a moment with his hands in his pants pockets, as if
waiting to say something more, then shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh." He stopped halfway down the sidewalk, raising his voice so Michael could
hear. "You might want to clean out your refrigerator. The electricity isn't on
all the time now."
Chapter Twenty
Contents - Prev / Next
Michael read the papers voraciously; there had been no news at all in
Clarkham's dream-trap, of course.
What he read both horrified and exhilarated him.
The Sidhe were reappearing all over the world, in the hundreds of thousands,
if not millions. Apparently, large migrations from the Realm had resumed just
days after the performance. He thumbed through the papers, tearing pages in
his haste. England, of course and Ireland and Scotland : appearances by
the hundreds. Whole sections of Ireland were now closed off by impenetrable
and immaterial barriers, erected by the Sidhe; there was no way of knowing
what kind of Sidhe. The editorials and reports he barely glanced at; they
were, of course, not informed, and their guesses were ludicrous, if very
twentieth century:
aliens from space, high-technology terrorist actions.
They had no idea what was happening.
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Bear, Greg - Songs of Earth and Power Vol. 2 - The Serpent Mage
In other areas India, China, the Soviet Union news reports had stopped,
and all travel had been banned. There were hints of enormous disruptions and
even battles.
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