Crispin_ At the Edge of the World - Avi [6]
God’s truth: I didn’t want to know such things. But the pain in his voice held me. “You need your sleep,” I said in haste.
“Yes,” he said. “I do.” And drifted off to what I hoped was only sleep.
I wanted to get help but hardly knew where to take my first step, much less which way to aim. In the end, unwilling to leave him, I stayed by his side.
Night came with lowering clouds enough to hide all stars. The only light was the smoldering cinders of our dwindling fire. I took it to be an augury of Bear’s life.
Heart full of pain, I went on my knees and prayed to my patron, Saint Giles, that he might help Bear. I pledged I’d do anything and everything if he blessed Bear with strength. Even so, in the heart of my being, my fear was growing that Bear was fated—it choked me just to give it name—to die.
With that fear came a greater fear: if Bear died I didn’t know what to do. Where could I go? What would I be?
Unable to answer, I felt that the freedom I’d so recently won was melting like a spent candle.
What followed was a long and doleful night. The forest creaked and groaned as if an encircling doom was laying siege to Bear. When I slept—which I did but fitfully—my frightful dreams were equal to my waking worries. I took the dreams as dismal warnings. Sure enough, by dawn’s first light, I could see that Bear had turned worse.
Though exhausted, I knew I should act quickly. Yet, despite new and desperate prayers, I had no notion what to do. I stirred up the fire, but beyond that I could only wait and watch my friend, my heart raw with naked helplessness.
But as I sat there, I began to realize that the forest had grown uncommon still—as if it held its breath. Gradually, I began to sense something amiss, as though something was slithering near.
I leaped up and searched about but saw nothing save the creeping shadows of the dawning forest. Even so, I was convinced a thing was there, a thing drawing nigh.
The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle. My heart pounded. I could hardly breathe. For I recalled a notion I’d heard: that when the Angel of Death slips in to snatch a soul, all sounds, all movements, cease.
Next moment I realized that there were eyes, eyes peering out of the woods, eyes gazing right at us, large eyes, dark and brown, fixed and staring. Nothing but eyes, detached from any corporal body, as if part of some advancing ghost.
Oh, blessed Lord who gives all life—I thought—it’s Death, Death himself who has come for Bear!
5
GRADUALLY, DIMLY, I perceived a figure hidden by the leaves. Even so, it was only eyes that held me with an unblinking gaze. Was what I saw of this world or another?
Greatly shocked, I turned toward the sleeping Bear, then shifted hastily back. Slowly, I realized it was a small person looking out at us. The next moment I grasped that it was a child—but whether a human or not, I was uncertain.
The face was obscured by grime and long, snarled brown hair. Impossible, too, to distinguish clothing, muted and rent as it was, as if part of the foliage.
I returned the stare, but the child did no more than remain still, eyes steady as stone upon us. The longer the gaze held, the greater grew my fright. I tried desperately to think what Bear would do.
“Be off with you!” I cried, raising an arm and taking a step forward.
When the child made no response, I asked, “Who are you?”
No answer.
Seeing a stout branch upon the ground, I snatched it up and held it like a club that I might defend myself and Bear—if it came to that.
The child remained in place.
Brandishing the stick as if to strike, I took another step. This time the child retreated, noiselessly, as if floating above the earth.
“Are you of this world?” I shouted. “In God’s name tell me who and what you are!”
Abruptly, the child turned and scampered off among the trees, and, for all that I could see, vanished.
My fears grew. If what I saw was human, and he went to tell others about us, matters could turn worse. But if what I saw was a spirit, what devilish harm might he bring down upon us?
I knelt by Bear’s side.