Free Armageddon's Children by Terry Brooks Page B

that was unfamiliar to Logan and must have been the language of his people. The chant rose and fell, filling the silence with its rolling cadences and sharp punctuation. Logan picked up his staff and held it in front of him, ready for anything. He had no idea what to expect. He worried that the sound of the chanting would bring things he would just as soon avoid.
    But nothing appeared, not even the feeders he had seen earlier. After a few anxious moments, he began to relax.
    Then tiny lights rose out of the earth, out of the grave itself, and danced on the air before him. The dance went on, the lights spinning and whirling and forming intricate patterns. The dance grew frenetic, and suddenly the lights flared a brilliant white, dropped to the earth like stones, and disappeared. The chanting stopped. Two Bears continued to sit without moving, his breathing quick and labored.
    Logan blinked to regain his sight, blinded by that final surge of light. When he could see again, Two Bears was looking over at him. “It is done. She has given us what we need.”
    He reached down, scooped a scattering of white sticks from the grave, and slipped them into his pocket before Logan could determine what they were. Then he rose and started away. Again, Logan followed obediently.
    They returned to the fire and the picnic table, where they seated themselves across from each other. The intensity of the fire had not diminished, even though neither of them had been there to feed it. Logan glanced around the clearing. Everything was as they had left it.
    “This is how you will find the child,” Two Bears said suddenly.
    He laid a piece of black cloth on the surface of the table, spreading it out and smoothing it over. When he had the wrinkles brushed out and the material squared, he reached into his pocket and removed the white sticks, holding them out for Logan to see.
    The white sticks were human bones.
    “The bones of Nest Freemark’s right hand,” O’olish Amaneh said softly. “Take them.”
    Logan decided not to ask the other how he had gotten the bones out of the coffin and the body of Nest Freemark. Some secrets you didn’t need to solve. Instead, he did as he was asked, accepting the bones and holding them cupped in the palm of his hand. He was surprised at how light and fragile they felt. He studied them a moment, then glanced questioningly at the big man.
    “Now cast them onto the cloth,” the other ordered.
    Logan hesitated, then scattered the bones over the cloth. For a moment, nothing happened. The bones lay in a jumble, their whiteness stark against the dark surface. Suddenly they began to jerk and twist, and then to slide across the cloth and link together at the joints to form fingers and a thumb.
    When they were still again, all five digits were stretched out in the same direction, pointing west.
    “That is where you will find the child, Logan,” Two Bears said softly. “Somewhere west. That is where you must go.”
    He gathered up the bones, wrapped them in the black cloth, and gave the bundle to Logan. “The bones will lead you to the child. Cast them as often as you need to. When you have found the child, give it the bones of its mother and it will know what to do from there.”
    Logan stuffed the cloth and the bones into his jacket. He wasn’t sure if he believed all this or not. He guessed he did. The world was a strange place now, and strange things were a regular part of it.
    “After I find the child and give it the bones, then what?” he pressed.
    “You are to go with it wherever you must. You are to protect it with your life.” The Sinnissippi’s eyes were strangely kind and reassuring. “You must remember what I said and believe. The child is humankind’s last hope. The child is humankind’s link to the future.”
    Logan stared at him a moment, then shook his head. “I’m only one man.”
    “When in the history of the human race has one man not been enough, Logan?”
    He shrugged.
    “You will