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  “Of course.”

  “You swear it?”

  “There’s no way to prove it.”

  “But if ? If, Monique.”

  “Yes!” He was unnerving her. “I said I would. Unlike some people, I don’t lie out of habit.”

  He ignored the jab, and she regretted her insinuation.

  A smile twisted his mouth. “Okay. here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to go to sleep and get some information that I couldn’t possibly know, and then I’m going to wake up and give it to you.”

  His eyes were bright, but the brilliance of his plan escaped her. “That’s absurd.”

  “That’s the point. You think it’s absurd because you don’t believe me. Which is why when I wake up and tell you something I can’t know, you’ll believe me! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”

  He really believed that he could enter this dream world of his, discover real information from the histories, and return to tell her about it. He really was mad.

  On the other hand, if he was sleeping, she could . . .

  “Okay. Fair enough. Go to sleep then.”

  “See? It makes sense, doesn’t it? What kind of information should I look for?”

  “What?”

  “What could I bring back that would persuade you?”

  She thought about it. Preposterous. “The number of nucleotide base pairs that deal specifically with HIV in my vaccine,” she said.

  “The number of nucleotide base pairs. Okay. Give me something else, in case I can’t get that. The histories may not have recorded something that specific.”

  She couldn’t hold back some amusement at his enthusiasm. It was like negotiating with one of the children right out of Narnia. “My father’s birth date. They would have the year of his birth, right? Do you know what it is?”

  “No, I don’t .And I can come back with more than just his birth date if you want.” He picked up the gun and walked to the window yet again.

  “What do you keep looking at?”

  “There’s a white car that’s been parked down the street for the last few hours. Just checking. It’s getting dark.”

  He spun back. “Okay. How do we do this? I’ll sleep on the bed.”

  “How long will this take?”

  “Half an hour. You wake me up half an hour after I fall asleep. That’s all I need. There’s no correlation between time here and time there.”

  He walked to the bed and sat down, pulled off the cover, and ripped the sheet off.

  “What are you doing?”

  He tore the sheet in two. “I can’t just let you wander around while I’m sleeping. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to tie you up.”

  She stood up. “Don’t you dare!”

  “What do you mean, don’t you dare? I’m the one with the gun here, and you’re my prisoner, in case you forgot. I tie you up, and if you yell for help, I wake up and shoot off your pinkie toes.”

  He was impossible. “You’re going to leave me sitting here while you fall asleep? How do I wake you up if I’m tied up?”

  He grabbed one of the pillows and tossed it over by the air conditioner. “You throw this pillow at me. Move over to the air conditioner.”

  “You’re going to tie me to the air conditioner?”

  “Looks pretty solid to me. The anchor rod will hold you. You have a better idea?”

  “And how will I throw the pillow if my hands are tied?”

  He thought about that. “Good point. Okay, I’ll tie you so that you can reach the bed with your foot. You kick the bed until I wake up. You don’t yell.”

  She stared at him. Then the air conditioner.

  “Didn’t think so. Hurry up. The sooner I fall asleep, the sooner we can get this over with.” He waved the gun. “Move.”

  It took him five minutes to rip up the sheet halves and form a short tether. He made her lie down on her back to measure the distance to the bed. Satisfied that she could reach it, he bound her hands behind her back. Not just her hands, but her fingers, so that she couldn’t move them to untie anything. And her feet, so she couldn’t stand.

  He worked over her quickly, unconcerned that his sweaty torso was smudging her silk blouse. The whole thing was desperately absurd. But he clearly didn’t think so. He was scurrying around like a rat on a mission.

  When he’d finished, he stood back, admired his handiwork, carried the gun to the bed, and plopped down on his back, spread-eagle.

  He closed his eyes.

  “I can’t believe this stupidity,” she mumbled.

  “Quiet. I’m trying to sleep here. Do I need to gag you?” He sat up, pulled off his boots.

  Her teeth! She might be able to tear the cloth cords with her teeth.

  “Do you really think you’ll be able to fall asleep like this? I mean, I will be quiet, I promise, but isn’t this just a bit ridiculous?”

  “I think You’ve made yourself clear on that point. And actually I don’t know if I can fall asleep or not. But I’m about ready to drop from exhaustion as it is, so I think there’s a pretty good chance.”

  He plopped back down and closed his eyes.

  “Maybe I could sing you a lullaby,” Monique heard herself say. It was a surprising thing to say at a moment like this.

  He turned his head and looked at her, sitting against the wall under the air conditioner. “Do you sing?”

  She turned away and stared at the wall.

  Five minutes passed before she braved a glance his way. He lay exactly as she’d last seen, bare chest rising and falling steadily, arms to either side. Very well built. Dark hair. A beautiful creature.

  Totally mad.

  Was he asleep? “Thomas?” she whispered.

  He sat up, rolled out of bed, and picked up a fragment of sheet.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to gag you.”

  “I wasn’t talking!”

  “No, but you might try to bite your way out. I’m sorry, I really am. I can’t sleep unless I’m totally at ease, you understand, and I think a strong jaw might be able to tear this stuff.” He wrapped the strip around her mouth and tied it behind her head. She didn’t bother protesting.

  “Not that I think you have a strong jaw. I didn’t mean it like that. I actually like the sound of your voice.”

  He stood, crossed to the bed, and dropped onto his back once again.

  19

  Tom awoke with a start and jumped to his feet on the hill overlooking the village. He scrambled to the lip of the valley. Dusk. The people were already heading up the valley to the lake. The Gathering.

  Two thoughts. One, he should join them. If he ran, he could catch them. Two, he had to get to the black forest. Now.

  He’d dreamed how many times since waking in the black forest? Yet something had changed. For the first time, he’d awakened with a compulsion to treat this dream of Bangkok, this lucid fabrication in his mind, as real. It was no longer only a conscious choice that he was making, it was something in his heart. He really did have to treat the dreams as real. Both of them, in the event either or both were real.

  If Bangkok was real, then he needed Monique’s cooperation. The only way to get Monique’s cooperation was to prove himself by retrieving information. Information he hoped he could find in the black forest.

  Tom spun around and sprinted down the path that led to the Shataiki.

  He had to learn the truth. The Great Deception, the Raison Strain, Monique de Raison—he had to know why he was having these dreams. He’d survived the black forest once; he would survive it again.

  His feet slapped the earth as he jogged. The path soon faded, but he knew the direction. The river. It lay directly ahead. The slight glow from the trees lit the forest—even in the dead of night he would be able to find his way back.

  He slowed to a walk and caught his breath. Then he fell back into a jog. This time he wouldn’t actually enter the forest. He would call out. And if the bla
ck bats didn’t respond? Then he would see. Either way, he couldn’t return without some answers.

  What had Monique suggested he learn? The number of nucleotide base pairs in the HIV vaccine.

  The journey must have lasted an hour, but there was no way for Tom to know. When he finally broke into the clearing he recognized as the place he’d first been healed, he pulled up, panting hard. Just past the meadow lay a short stretch of forest, which ended at the river’s edge. He stepped out into the meadow and jogged forward. A snapshot of the hotel room in Bangkok flashed through his mind and he plodded on, across the meadow and through the forest toward the rushing river.

  The trees gave way to riverbank without warning. One second forest, the next only grass. And the river.

  The scene took his breath away. He leaped back into the safety of the trees and flattened himself against a massive red tree. He waited for a moment and then carefully peered out onto the bank of the green river. The bridge the Roush had called the Crossing glimmered fifty yards upriver, white in the rising moonlight. The river glowed, translucent and sparkling with the colored light cast by the trees. Beyond the river lay the outline of ragged black trees in the darkness.

  Tom stared into the black forest and began to shiver. There was no way he could enter that blackness again. He imagined red beady eyes lying in wait just beyond the black barrier. Or above. He slowly raised his eyes to the treetops across the river, but there was only darkness. He listened to the sound of the night, trying to filter out the river.

  Was that a snicker?

  Then he saw a lone dark shadow flee from the upper branches. He quickly pulled back into the colored forest’s cover, his heart pounding in his ears. A Shataiki! But it had fled. Maybe it hadn’t seen him.

  He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He should leave this place. He should turn and run.

  But he didn’t . Couldn’t .

  He stood by the red tree for ten minutes, slowly gathering his courage. The river bubbled on, undisturbed. The forest stood black, unmoving beyond. Nothing changed. Slowly his fear gave way to resolve again.

  Tom stepped from the forest and stood on the bank, washed in moonlight. No bats. Just the bridge to his left, the river, and the dead trees beyond. He took a few more steps, angling for the bridge. Still nothing changed. The river still rushed on, the trees behind him still glowed in oblivion, and the blackness ahead remained pitch dark.

  Tom took a deep breath and walked quickly toward the bridge. He gripped the rail of the white structure, and for the first time it dawned on him that the wood of the bridge, unlike any wood he had seen outside the black forest, did not glow. It had been constructed by the Shataiki, then? He paused and looked again at the black trees looming taller now. He should call out from here. What he should yell, he didn’t know. Hello? Or maybe . . .

  A speck of red suddenly flickered in the corner of his right eye. Tom jerked his head toward the light. He saw them clearly now, the dancing red eyes just beyond the tree line across the river. He tightened his grip on the rail and caught his breath.

  Another flicker of red off to his left made him turn his head, and he saw a dozen Shataiki step out of the forest and stop, facing the river. And then, as Tom watched with terror, a thousand sets of red gleaming eyes materialized, emerging from their hiding places.

  Tom told himself to turn and run, but his feet felt rooted to the earth. He watched with dread as the Shataiki poured silently out of the forest, creating a line as far as he could see in either direction. The creatures squatted like sentinels along the tree line, gazing at him with blank red eyes set like jewels on either side of their long black snouts. And then the treetops began filling as well, as if a hundred thousand Shataiki had been called to witness a great spectacle, and the black trees were their bleachers.

  Tom’s legs began to shake. The pungent smell of sulfur filled his nostrils, and he checked his breathing. This whole thing was a terrible mistake. He had to get back to the colored forest.

  The wall of Shataiki directly ahead of him suddenly parted. Tom watched as a single Shataiki walked toward the bridge, dragging brilliant blue wings on the barren earth behind him. This one stood taller than a man, much larger than the rest. Its torso was gold and pulsed with tinges of red. Stunning. Beautiful. The night air filled with the clucks and clicks of a hundred thousand bats as the huge Shataiki slogged toward the crossing. It moved slowly. Very slowly, favoring its right leg.

  Tom watched without moving. The beast’s green eyes were set deep into its triangular face, fixed on Tom. Pupil-less, glowing saucers of green. Frightening and yet oddly comforting. Luring. Tom could hear the scraping of its talons along aged planks, the whisper of its huge wings, as it slowly ascended the bridge. The Shataiki made its way to the center and stopped.

  He raised one wing slightly and the throngs behind him fell silent.

  Somewhere in the back of Tom’s paralyzed mind, a voice began to reassure him that this Shataiki could certainly mean no harm. No creature so beautiful could harm him. He had come to talk. Why else would he have come out to the center of the bridge? According to the Roush, no Shataiki could cross the bridge.

  “Come.” The Shataiki sang as much as spoke. Hardly more than a whisper.

  The leader was telling him to come. And why should he give that suggestion any mind? He could speak from here just as easily as from up there.

  “Come,” the leader repeated.

  This time, the Shataiki opened his mouth. Tom saw its pink tongue. As long as he stayed on this side of the bridge and out of the creature’s reach, he would be safe. Right?

  Tom stepped cautiously onto the bridge. The Shataiki made no move, so Tom stepped up the Crossing toward the beast. He stopped five meters from the Shataiki and looked directly into his eyes. They glistened like giant emeralds in the moonlight. A chill ran down Tom’s spine. He had to be the one called Teeleh. But he wasn’t what Tom had expected.

  The creature let his shoulders droop and turned his head slightly. He retracted his talons and allowed a gentle smile to form on his snout.

  “Welcome, my friend. I had hoped you would come.” Now he spoke plainly, in a low voice without a hint of music. “I know this may all seem a little overpowering to you. But please, ignore them. They are imbeciles who have no mind.”

  “Who?” Tom said. But it came out like a grunt so he said it again. “Who?”

  “The sick, demented creatures behind me.” The beautiful bat withdrew a red fruit from behind his back and offered it to Tom. “Here, my friend, have a fruit.”

  Tom looked at the fruit, too terrified to move any closer to the beast, much less reach out to take something from it.

  “But of course. You are still frightened, aren’t you? Pity. It is one of our best.” The Shataiki raised the fruit to his lips without removing his eyes from Tom and bit deeply into its flesh. A stream of juice dribbled through his furry chin and spotted the planks at his feet. “Possibly our very best. Certainly the most powerful.” He smacked his lips. He lifted his chin to swallow the fruit and tucked the uneaten portion behind his back again.

  He withdrew a small pouch. “Are you thirsty?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Not thirsty. I understand. We’ll have plenty of time for eating and drinking later, won’t we?”

  Tom began to relax a little. “I didn’t come to eat or drink.” Was it possible Teeleh could be a friend to him? The creature certainly disapproved of the other black bats. “How did you know I was coming?”

  “I have powers you can’t imagine, my friend. To know you were coming was nothing. I have legions at my disposal. Do you think I don’t know who comes and who goes? I think you underestimate me.”

  “If you have such power, then why do you live in the black trees instead of in the colored forest?” Tom asked, looking past the beast at the throngs milling in the trees across the river.

  “The colored forest, you call it? And who in their right mind would want to live i
n the colored forest? You think their fruit can compare with my fruit? No. Is their water any sweeter than ours? Less. They are nothing but slaves.”

  Tom shifted on his feet. There was only one rule here. No matter what happened, he could never drink the water. As long as he followed that simple standard, he would be perfectly safe.

  “What is that in your pocket?” the bat suddenly demanded.

  Tom reached into his pocket and withdrew the small glowing carving that Johan had handed him in the village.

  Teeleh recoiled. “Throw it over the side. Throw it over!”

  Tom reacted without thought. He tossed the red lion over the edge of the bridge and gripped the rail to steady himself.

  Slowly Teeleh lowered his arm and stared at Tom with his wide, green eyes.

  “It is poison to us,” the beast said.

  “I didn’t know.”

  “Of course not. They have deceived you.”

  Tom let the statement go. “What do they call you?” he asked.

  “What does who call me?” the beast asked.

  “Them.” Tom nodded at the bats.

  The Shataiki raised his chin. “I am called Teeleh.”

  “Teeleh.” He’d expected nothing else. “You’re the leader of the Shataiki.”

  “Foolish minds may call what they do not know whatever they wish. But I am the ruler of a thousand legions of subjects in a land full of mystery and power. This they call the black forest.” The black bat swung a huge wing toward the forest behind him. “But I call it my kingdom. Which is why I’ve come to speak to you. To set your mind free. There are some things you should know.”

  Tom could hardly ignore the obvious fact that the creature wanted something from him. This show of power couldn’t be arbitrary. But he had no intention of giving them anything. He’d come for one purpose only, to gather some information about the histories.

  Despite his confusion over the true nature of this creature, Thomas couldn’t allow Teeleh to gain the upper hand.

  “And there are some things that you should know as well,” Tom said. “It’s forbidden for me to drink your water, and I have no intention of doing it. Please don’t waste your time.”