Gods of Earth Read Online Free PDF Page B

than he had ever traveled from Walking Man Lake. “No! I must get out here!”
    Chance got his feet under him and leapt to the right, aiming to jump feet-first into the river and strike out for shore.
    There was an explosion of water. It crested over the gunwale, and slapped him back into the boat. The Guardian stood in the river before him, the water heaving around his hips. The Guardian’s motion had been so fast, so violent, that Chance had not seen it, but the water had exploded to get out of the way. The Guardianhad one hand on the boat, steadying it, or it would surely have flipped over.
    The Guardian walked the boat to the shallows and then climbed in. Soaked, Chance pulled himself up again onto the boat’s front seat.
    The Guardian took up the oars and thrust at the water with quick strokes, driving Chance away from all that he loved and desired.

CHAPTER
    5
    “T he witch child loves you.”
    Sarah struggled to open her eyes. She felt her eyelids tremble, but they would not rise. It’s one of those dreams, she thought. One of those nightmares when you thrash and thrash, but in fact you aren’t moving at all, and you cannot wake.
    Slowly, a foul odor crept into her nose. If she could move, if she weren’t paralyzed, she would gag from the cloying stench. She tried again to raise her arms, to open her mouth, to lift her eyelids, but she could not, she could not.…
    “Awake,” the voice hissed.
    Her eyes snapped up. The pale, robed man stood before her—the man who had attacked them in the barn. The man who had killed John and Eve Kyrien. He dragged in a labored breath, and then looked this way and that before forcing his eyes back to Sarah. “Wake now. Stop dreaming of him.”
    “The witch boy,” Paul said, dreamily but with invective.
    Sarah lay on a hard, cold floor of packed earth. Paul lay beside her. She pushed herself backwards, in panic, and then scrabbled toher feet. To her surprise, her swords lay on the ground before her. She looked at them uncertainly.
    The pale unman showed no concern. “I am here to help you, to save you.”
    She snatched her swords from the dirt, then skipped backwards and held their points out toward the robed man. She glanced quickly around. They were in a dirty room, fifteen paces on a side. Below ground, it seemed, since light streamed in through broken windows near the ceiling that were partly choked with dandelions and other low weeds. Rust-colored grime lay thickly over the floor and over piles of shapeless trash. In the corners, spider webs sagged under years of heavy settled dust.
    It was probably an abandoned farmhouse in the old forest, Sarah thought. She might even know the house.
    “Stand back,” she said. Then to Paul, “Get up, Paul. We’re leaving.”
    “No,” Paul said, still staring off into space.
    The air shimmered. The pale yellow light that filtered into the room changed, seemed to thin and waver. The particles of dust that swirled in the low columns of the sun’s rays froze in place. The voice of the horrible cloaked man sounded in her head, though his lips barely moved.
    “I am Hexus. Chance is my brother. He needs help. Only I can help him. He carries illness.”
    This was ridiculous: where Chance was broad shouldered and erect, with a square face and dark hair and eyes, this tall and bleached man slouched awkwardly, and his small eyes were a dim red. His jaw was narrow and slight.
    But then, in the strange slow light, Sarah felt her will soothingly encumbered, as if pressed down under some soft weight. She could not recall what she had intended to do with the swords. The unman’s words reminded her of other things. He had said
illness
. Illness. She knew about illness.
    “Illness killed my mother,” Sarah whispered.
    “Yes, that’s right. Like the illness that killed your mother. That illness killed Paul’s parents.”
    And she saw it then. The memory flooded over her, shocking, because she had somehow forgotten it. How could she have