CHAPTER 2 
CHAPTER 2 As Jason marched away from the river, the tall leafy trees prevented most of the milky moonlight from reaching the ground. Through the dimness, he pressed between dark bushes with fuzzy foliage, occasionally altering his direction when he encountered thorny brambles and tangled thickets. The farther he waded through the vegetation, the more overgrown the forest floor became. Repeatedly he was corralled by spiny barricades.
He paused several times, crouching beside shrubs or behind trees, listening and watching for enemies. No matter how long he waited, or how intently he strained his senses, he detected no sign of pursuers. Nor did he hear giants stomping around up ahead.
Jason inhaled the scent of little bell-shaped flowers, drooping from a slender stalk. The smell was familiar. He was back in Lyrian, crouched in the darkness, foliage obscuring the moon. Despite the danger, or perhaps in part because of it, his situation felt natural. He could do this. As long as he remembered some of the precautions he had learned from Ferrin and Jasher, alone in the woods he should be very hard to find.
After some time spent gradually climbing away from the river along a clumsily improvised route, Jason blundered onto a narrow footpath. He tried to use the moon to keep his bearings. As his hunger grew, he stopped a few times to get trail mix from his backpack.
Not long after daybreak, with his inner thighs raw from rubbing against wet denim all night, Jason reached a clearing where the footpath vanished into the deep grass of a meadow. Following the perimeter of the meadow, Jason hopped a narrow stream, disturbing a lynx. The sinuous wildcat hissed and bristled, tufted ears quivering, making Jason recoil in surprise. Crouching, he grasped a stone, but the creature sped away, low across the ground, to disappear in the brush.
Not far beyond his encounter with the lynx, Jason found a meager trail running to the northeast. He knelt down behind a thorny bush, just beyond the edge of the meadow, and gazed back across the clearing. After waiting patiently, he saw the lynx slink away into the trees, but otherwise viewed nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe he really had slipped away from the river unnoticed.
Jason pawed through his backpack for a protein bar, which he ate while walking. The sun moved toward its zenith as Jason advanced along the faint trail. Despite his exhaustion, he wanted to keep moving, at least until nightfall. He hoped to leave behind the forest and the threat of giants as soon as possible.
Some time after the sun passed its apex, Jason spotted a bubble-fruit tree not far off the path. Feeling like a veteran adventurer, he climbed the narrow trunk and plucked three pieces of the fruit. Back near the path, he sat with legs folded, enjoying the break and the bitter juiciness of the transparent bulbs. The taste, the surrounding trees, the solitude—it all seemed familiar to Jason and helped him feel firmly back in Lyrian.
While he sat, Jason removed the hand from his backpack, still wrapped in the plastic sack. Ferrin had taught Jason to recognize bubblefruit trees. Might the displacer suspect he had returned to Lyrian? Could he somehow sense his hand more near? Would it be foolish for Jason to contact him? Ferrin had claimed that he was currently on the run from Maldor, which could mean the displacer and Jason were now on the same side.
When Jason had first made contact, after Ferrin speedily mastered the sign language alphabet, the displacer had offered only terse, vague replies. Then one day Ferrin had related that his participation in Jason’s escape from Felrook had been discovered, and his messages became more elaborate. Still, because of past deceptions, Jason felt uncertain whether he could believe the information.
Supposedly, after Jason departed from Lyrian, Ferrin had gone undercover to a prison camp to discover how the inmates kept killing guards without leaving a trace of evidence. According to Ferrin, before his work there was complete, a scarlet rider had arrived with a message summoning him back to Felrook.
Ferrin had acted happy to comply, but quietly slipped away in the night, escaping into the western wilderness, eventually making his way to the port city of Weych. He later confirmed that as he had suspected, Maldor had discovered his involvement in Jason’s escape. Ferrin had remained in hiding ever since.
Throughout their conversations, Jason never hid his wish to return to Lyrian, and Ferrin had pledged his aid should Jason ever succeed. But Jason had deep misgivings about relying on Ferrin. Everything the displacer had asserted could have been fabricated to gain his trust. For the present, confiding in Ferrin would be irresponsible.
Invigorated by the snack, Jason stuffed the plastic sack with the hand into his backpack and trotted along the trail. He estimated that back home it was the middle of the night. His summer had been lazy so far, with plenty of sleep, so he didn’t expect an all-nighter to give him too much trouble. Besides, with the sun up, it felt earlier.
After some time, Jason reduced his pace to a walk. The day was too hot. Despite the humidity, his jeans were almost dry.
The little path he followed bent westward, then southwest. Jason continued, hoping the path would turn back to the north. The vegetation seemed closer and pricklier than ever.
Just when Jason was preparing to double back, the path intersected a larger trail that cut straight to the north. He followed the northward track, surprised at how wide it was for a path out in the wild. He noticed several places where foliage appeared to have been roughly chopped away to keep it from crowding the trail.
At one particularly mangled bush, Jason paused. Who was tending the trail? The maintenance was deliberate and relatively recent. Could it be giants? Or perhaps some industrious hermit?
Jason studied his surroundings. Given the dense undergrowth, if he left the path, his progress would be slowed to a frustrating crawl. Examining the trail, he found no huge footprints, but spotted traces of animal tracks—deer, perhaps. He decided to hurry along the pathway but to remain attentive. If he heard anything suspicious, he could always duck into the undergrowth.
With the heightened caution of a trespasser, Jason proceeded along the trail. The sun descended toward the treetops. Several times he paused at strange noises, and once he dove from the trail to roll under a scratchy shrub.
Every disconcerting sound turned out to be a false alarm, so it came as quite a shock when the trail curved around a tall bush and he found himself confronted by a twelve-foot giant, clutching a spiked club.
The huge man stood on the edge of the path, face twisted into a fierce grimace. Jason froze, deeply startled, then relaxed. The giant was a rough-hewn statue.
As Jason was calming himself, a shrill voice cried, “State your business!”
The order had come from somewhere before him, but Jason could not see the speaker.
“Keep your hands visible. State your business immediately!”
Jason held his empty hands forward. He still could not identify the speaker. The voice seemed to originate from the looming statue. “I’m just passing through these woods on my way up the coast.”
“Dispose of your weapons.”
“I have no weapons.” Jason held out his arms and slowly turned.
A little man emerged from concealment within the bushes between the legs of the giant statue. He had curly auburn hair and was only slightly higher than Jason’s waist.
Approaching with a bowlegged waddle, the small man held his hands palms outward. His tone became less demanding. “I am unarmed as well. If you intend to harm me, please end the suspense and do it now.”
“I’m not going to do anything to you. All I want are directions, so I can get clear of these woods.”
The little man approached cautiously. His simple clothing was a faded green that blended with the forest vegetation. “Pardon my candor, but if you plan to waylay me, I would prefer to have it done with.” He turned around. “There. My back is turned and my eyes are closed. I detest anticipation. If you harbor unwholesome intentions, please have the decency to accost me while I am braced for the worst.”
“You can open your eyes,” Jason assured him. “I’m not here to bother anyone.”
The little man cast a sly glance at Jason over his shoulder. “Well, your honor has saved your life.”
Three other little people, two men and a woman, emerged from hiding nearby. They were clad similarly to the first little man, but they all carried bows.
“You might be surprised how many strangers fail that test,” the little fellow said. “Who are you?”
“I’m Matt Davidson.” The lie came smoothly. There was little chance these dwarfs hidden in the woods were in league with Maldor, but since Jason was a wanted fugitive, it did no harm to take precautions.
“Greetings, Matt, son of David,” the little man said politely. “I am Peluthe, son of Rogon.” He gave a curt bow. “This is my brother, Saul; my wife, Retta; and my cousin, Ulrun.” The others nodded in turn. “Where do you hail from?”
“I’m a wanderer, but this region is new to me. I have spent a lot of time near Trensicourt.”
“Where are you going?” asked Retta.
“Don’t be so inquisitive,” chastised Peluthe.
“You keep asking questions,” she complained.
“That’s my duty. I’m in charge.”
“Then you can cook your own supper.”
“I’m headed for Ithilum,” Jason said.
His answer defused the argument. Peluthe returned his attention to Jason. “Have you not heard these woods are infested by giants?”
“Another question,” Retta huffed in a low tone.
“In charge,” Peluthe growled back.
“I’ve heard stories,” Jason said. “Any truth to them?”
Saul and Ulrun shared a chuckle.
“Come with us,” Peluthe said, “and judge for yourself.”
The little people led the way along the path, past the tall statue. As they progressed, the trail showed evidence of increasing amounts of grooming. Before long, the foliage along the sides was pruned as neatly as hedgerows. The group passed another large, menacing statue, and then a third.
“Who’s the stranger?” came a cry from up in a tree.
“Matt, son of David,” Peluthe answered. “We have found him trustworthy.”
“Where are you escorting him?” challenged the faceless voice.
“To the village.”
“Is that prudent?”
“He is in my care.”
“Very well.”
A few more paces, and the path emerged into a tremendous clearing occupied by a village. Little people like those who found Jason roamed the streets, but the houses were enormous. The doors rose at least twelve feet high, the windows were huge, and the roofs towered above the ground. The sinking sun cast long shadows.
Jason halted where the forest path became a gravel road. “It looks like giants live here.”
Saul and Ulrun laughed.
Peluthe glared at them. “Once they must have. But not now, or else we all would have been spitted and devoured. We are a small race, an experiment by some long-forgotten, misguided wizard. We’re ill equipped to defend ourselves against larger folk such as yourself. When we discovered that the forest was abandoned, we inhabited this empty village.”
Jason grinned. “And did nothing to discourage the rumors about giants.”
Retta winked. “You catch on quick.”
“So what now?” Jason wondered.
Peluthe shrugged. “Enjoy our hospitality for the evening, sleep with a roof over your head, and tomorrow we will speed you on your way.”
“Thank you.”
Jason drew a lot of attention as he strolled into the village. One little woman shrieked. Peluthe and the others repeatedly explained that “Matt” was their guest. They led Jason to a massive two-story house. Three big steps led up to the bulky door. The little people boosted themselves up each stair, and Jason had to take very large steps.
The little folk entered using a small door built into the oversized one. Jason crouched low to get through. Inside, beneath the lofty ceiling, mingled a bizarre combination of oversized and undersized furnishings. Two little women and one tiny old man appeared busy preparing a meal.
“We have a visitor,” Peluthe announced.
“My goodness,” exclaimed one of the women. “Is he safe?”
“Quite safe,” assured Peluthe. “He is Matt, son of David. This is my sister, Deloa; Saul’s wife, Laila; and my codger, Jep.”
Those mentioned smiled and nodded in turn.
“Pleased to meet you,” Jason said.
Peluthe patted Retta on the shoulder. “If you must make added preparations to accommodate our guest, be quick about it. My stomach is impatient today.”
Retta rolled her eyes. “Stop trying to show off in front of our company. I’m either your wife or your slave. You decide.”
“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Jason said.
“Nonsense,” Peluthe said. “Retta is happiest when complaining.”
“Must be why I keep you around,” she replied.
“He’s gargantuan,” the old man griped. “He’ll eat us all.”
“Behave, codger,” Peluthe scolded.
The old man toddled toward Jason. “We’ll have to butcher a herd of deer just to feed this behemoth.” He tapped Jason with a gnarled cane.
“Be kind, Jep,” Deloa said, moving between the old man and Jason. She smiled up at Jason with wide eyes.
“Don’t you start getting ideas about kissing giants,” the old man hollered, using the cane to pat Deloa on the rump. “We don’t have a ladder tall enough.”
Peluthe, Saul, and Ulrun burst out laughing. Jason covered a smirk. Deloa looked scandalized.
The small front door opened, and two little men entered. “Evening, Peluthe,” one of them said, rubbing his palms together.
“Out of here, you two,” Peluthe cried, hustling over to the door. “I realize everybody in town wants to dine with our visitor, but we don’t have enough as it is. Spread the word.”
Dejected, the two men retreated out the door. Peluthe locked it behind them.
Over at the immense fireplace, in front of a huge cauldron, Laila tended a pot on a small bed of coals and ash. “Find a seat,” she invited.
The little people gathered around a low table. Moving a chair out of the way, Jason sat on the floor, putting himself at about the proper height.
“Perhaps you would be more comfortable at the big table,” Peluthe suggested.
“I’m not that large,” Jason said. “Plus, I would miss all the conversation.”
Laila carried the pot over, and Deloa walked with her, spooning stew into the wooden bowls on the table. They served Jason first, then worked their way around. Retta collected tough, dark rolls into a pan and offered one to every guest. The little women served themselves last. Once they took a seat, everyone began to eat.
“This is good,” Jason said. The thick, meaty broth was loaded with chopped vegetables.
“It better be,” the codger griped. “Grew those carrots myself. Best in town. Which gives me an idea.” He turned to Peluthe. “What do you say we throw a harness on this great brute and let him plow my field?”
“That is enough, codger,” Peluthe admonished, then turned to Jason. “Forgive him.”
The codger was shaking silently with laughter.
“No problem,” Jason said, after swallowing another mouthful of stew.
Jason remained hungry after finishing his stew, but pretended to be fully satisfied when he complimented the meal.
“Why, thank you,” Retta replied. She glanced at Peluthe. “At least some people in the world still have manners.”
“Oh, yes, very fine work,” Peluthe mumbled.
From the westward windows, golden light streamed in: the final rays of the setting sun. “How far before I reach the northern coast of the peninsula?” Jason asked.
Peluthe squinted. “With those long legs, not more than two days. That about right, codger?”
The old man grunted. “If he fell over, his head would be halfway there.”
“Of course, I give you my word to keep your secret,” Jason said.
The little people shared sidelong glances.
“Secret?” Peluthe said.
“That the giants have abandoned these woods,” Jason clarified.
“Oh, yes, that secret.” Peluthe glanced up at the windows. “You know, we have another secret. A bigger one. Retta, close the shutters.”
Retta snatched up a pole and moved about the room, using it to secure the shutters. The last ones she closed covered the westward windows. “The sun is almost gone,” she said.
“Right,” Peluthe agreed. He winked at Jason. “Ready for a shocker?”
Each of the little people rose from his chair and collected a coarse, brown blanket from a folded pile beneath the huge table. Most of their knowing eyes remained on Jason as they began wrapping themselves in the blankets. Jason stood up and backed a few steps away, concerned by the peculiar change in attitude. He did not trust the new atmosphere in the room. Their bearings seemed suddenly menacing. Beneath the large blankets, the little people appeared to be disrobing.
As one, the little people dropped to their knees. They clenched their teeth and tightened their fists. A couple of them groaned.
“Are you all right?” Jason asked, growing distressed.
“Be right with you,” Peluthe gasped.
Their small bodies began to swell. As the expansion became more pronounced, they all commenced moaning and crying out. After a slow start, the growth came rapidly. A few staggered to their feet, now the height of regular people. Peluthe and Retta shot up taller than Jason. And the growth continued.
Hoping he was not too late, Jason shrugged on his backpack and dashed for the front door. The little door in the base of the larger one had been locked with a key. He slammed his shoulder against it, but the portal would not give. A large hand caught Jason by the shoulder, hurling him to the floor. Eight feet tall and still growing, Peluthe blocked access to the door. Grimacing and coughing, Peluthe doubled over as his body inflated more.
Panicked, Jason turned in a circle. There were no other doors. The windows were out of reach and shuttered. The stairs to the second floor were now guarded by Deloa and Saul, whose sweaty bodies continued to thicken and grow taller. Jason could now tell that the blankets were actually large tunics.
Jason rushed to the huge fireplace, dodged past the fading coals of the small cooking fire, and raced around the great cauldron. The stones at the rear of the fireplace were rough and fitted imperfectly, offering abundant handholds. A hasty glance over his shoulder revealed the former little people wracked by a final onslaught of painful expansion, completing their transformation into powerful giants. The codger stood up. Jason was no longer much higher than his waist.
With speed born from desperation, Jason scaled the soot-blackened stones, certain that a horrible death awaited if he missed a handhold and fell. After reaching the dark throat of the chimney, Jason climbed higher, unsure how far up the giants could reach.
“He’s getting away!” boomed a mighty voice.
“After him, you dunce,” called someone else.
The chimney narrowed as he scrambled higher. Jason did not believe the giants could follow him. He heard the cauldron being dragged out of the way.
“Prongs!” spat a voice directly below him. “He climbs like a lizard!”
“Grab him!”
Jason heard hands scuffing against stone not far below his feet.
“I can’t reach.”
“Well, climb, you oaf!”
“You want to try to squeeze up there?”
Jason reached a narrow ledge where there was a slight elbow in the chimney. He paused, panting, seated as if on a bench.
“Come on down, Matt,” suggested the husky voice of a woman—probably Retta—trying to sound sweet. “We mean you no harm.”
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Jason called.
“Blast!” the woman shouted. “Why were you so rough with him?”
“I thought we had the pest cornered.”
“Why didn’t somebody guard the fireplace?”
“Who knew he’d head up there?”
“He might get away.”
“No, he won’t.”
Jason heard the big front door open and shut. Not long after, he heard the roof creaking. He was trapped.
“Ho, Matt! This is Peluthe. You hear me?” The voice came from above.
“I hear you.”
Peluthe spoke calmly. “Why not end this silly game and climb down? You cannot possibly escape. We promise to kill you quickly. No prolonged suffering.”
“Think about it,” Jason said. “If you were in my position, would you come down?” He shifted on the ledge, legs dangling.
“If I were being reasonable, I just might. Even if you last in there until dawn, there are plenty of us to easily slay you. We have weapons.”
“You’re only big at night?” Jason verified.
“Now you know our real secret,” Peluthe answered. “You can understand why we can’t allow you to leave here alive.”
“Plus, we haven’t had fresh human in ages,” the codger called from below, his voice now deeper.
“I promise to keep your secret,” Jason tried. “Why not just let me go?”
“Deal,” Jep replied. “Come on down.”
“Fresh human is a rare delicacy,” Jep explained. “It’s nothing personal—you seem like a good enough lad. If you would rather not be eaten, a wise policy is to stay away from these woods, and especially from our village.”
Jason stared down the chimney in silence. He really was trapped. His demise was only a matter of time. At least he had sent Tark off with a message for Galloran, so his return to Lyrian wouldn’t be a total waste.
“Be reasonable,” Peluthe pleaded.
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Jason said, trying to keep the fear out of his voice, “but I’m going to make this as difficult as I can. You should be ashamed for inviting a guest into your home and then trying to eat him.”
“Suggestions?” Peluthe asked, no longer addressing Jason.
“Find a pole,” someone proposed.
“Smoke him out,” growled the codger.
“Saul!” Peluthe called. “Trade places with me. I’m coming down.”
A commotion of voices ensued, with some giving directions and others complaining. Jason heard the giants clomping about. A big pair of hands began piling wood into the fireplace.
“Find greenery,” Jep instructed. “It makes more smoke.”
Jason heard the front door open and close.
He examined the little ledge he was on. If he put his nose against the rear corner of the ledge facing the wall and breathed through his shirt, he might last for some time. But no matter what precautions he took, eventually he would asphyxiate. If they piled the wood high enough and it burned hot enough, he might even cook! Jason had known returning to Lyrian might get him killed, but deep down he had not believed it would happen. At least not so soon!
Down below, green boughs were heaped atop the growing pile of wood.
Jason patted his pockets, considering his options. He had money and jewels from Tark, but the giants would not likely accept a bribe when they could just kill him and rob his corpse. He had Ferrin’s hand, but there was no chance the displacer was near enough to offer direct assistance. Were these giants loyal to Maldor? If so, could he pretend to be a displacer by dropping the hand, maybe bluff that he was on an errand from Maldor? He doubted whether the giants would care.
Peluthe called to him again, this time from below. “Are you sure you refuse to come down? This won’t be pleasant.”
“Not to mention that the smoke will sully your flavor,” Jep added.
“We could provide a quick, clean death,” Peluthe offered. “Dignified and painless.”
Jason wondered if he should keep answering. His responses might only encourage them.
“Don’t bother playing possum,” Retta said. “We’re going to get you down one way or another, even if we have to climb up there in the morning.”
“I hope I taste like ashes,” Jason snapped.
“He’s a rather poor sport about all of this,” the codger grumbled.
“I’m going to light it up,” Peluthe announced. “I don’t mind my humans lightly toasted.”
Jason watched Peluthe bend forward over the logs. He was clacking some stones together to make sparks. Whatever Jason was going to try, it had to be quick.
“Use the coals from the other fire,” the codger said.
“They were swept aside,” Peluthe replied. “They’re not hot enough.” He kept clacking the stones.
“Let me do it,” Retta insisted.
“I have it.” Peluthe clacked for a few moments to no avail.
“I do this every day,” Retta sighed.
“I have it!” Peluthe snapped.
“I’m a servant of Maldor,” Jason called down. “I’m here on official business.”
“Little late to claim friendship with Maldor,” Peluthe replied disinterestedly. “You didn’t have any idea what we were when you met us.” He huffed with exasperation. “Fine, Retta, you light it.”
Jason decided he should send a final message to Ferrin. He took off his backpack and started rummaging around in it.
“Uh, Peluthe, Saul, we have a visitor,” warned a wary female. Perhaps Deloa.
Jason heard multiple gasps.
“Great demons from Beyond!” Peluthe exclaimed, moving away from the fireplace and out of view.
“Get out!” Jep cried urgently. “Don’t look at it!”
Jason heard the giants clomp across the floor and out the door. Silence followed. Was it a ruse to fool him into climbing down? A ploy to avoid having him taste too smoky?
“Come down from there, Saul!” Peluthe called from outside.
“Why?” The response came from near the top of the chimney.
“Don’t argue. Trust me.”
Jason heard the roof creaking, then nothing else. After waiting for a moment, he decided to leave the hand in his backpack, and zipped it back up. The zipper seemed unusually noisy.
If the giants had only pretended to leave, they would pounce on him as soon as he exited the chimney. If they truly had run off, Jason could only conclude that his situation had grown worse. What would frighten away a house full of giants? Deloa had mentioned a visitor. Could it possibly be somebody friendly? A good guy?
Biting his lower lip, Jason peered down the chimney. The fireplace remained vacant. He heard nothing.
“Hello?” Jason called softly. “Anyone there? Anyone who hates giants and likes people?”
The silence continued unbroken.
Time passed. Jason breathed the charred odor of the chimney. He became fidgety. Using his pocketknife, he scratched the sooty stones around him, seeing if he could remove the blackness. He couldn’t. Above him, visible through the mouth of the chimney, dusk began to fade into night.
Given the bickering he had heard until they left, Jason did not believe the giants were capable of such patience. Not only was the house silent, the whole village was quiet. Still, he waited. He had no desire to let impatience kill him.
As stars became visible through the mouth of the chimney above him, Jason’s little ledge grew very dark. He listened for clues as to what might have frightened the giants, but heard nothing unusual.
Gradually Jason became convinced that the giants were truly gone. He began to worry he might be wasting his only opportunity to escape. Turning around, Jason climbed quietly down the chimney, feeling for little outcrops with his toes, pausing occasionally to listen. There still was no sound.
Toward the bottom, as the chimney began to widen into the fireplace, Jason lost his grip and fell onto the stack of wood. The green branches on top cushioned the fall, although it felt like he’d twisted his ankle.
Rolling off the mound of firewood, Jason sat rubbing his ankle, staring at the dark room. A pallid gleam from the rising moon peeked through the shutters.
Standing in the center of the room was a human shape.
Squinting, Jason studied the stationary form, feeling chills tingle down his back. It was the size of a typical man, but through the gloom, Jason could identify no details. The figure held perfectly still.
His ankle already hurt less, which suggested it was not broken or sprained. Jason arose. The dark figure did not move. All remained quiet.
The personage could not have missed his fall. “Hello?” Jason whispered. The mysterious figure offered no response.
Jason edged along the wall, away from the fireplace. Whoever stood in the center of the room remained unnaturally still—not shifting, not twitching, not moving its head, not even visibly breathing. Reaching the corner of the room, Jason moved along the next wall toward the door.
The big door had been left slightly ajar, and Jason pulled it open and then stepped out into the night. The village was still. No light shone from any windows. The gibbous moon was rising, large and white over the treetops.
Limping slightly, Jason descended the oversized steps to the wide street. In a window across the road, he met the gaze of a large pair of eyes. The eyes ducked out of sight.
Jason turned to look back at the house he had just left, only to see the shadowy figure standing silently outside the door. Gasping, Jason stumbled several steps backward.
Beneath the direct moonlight, Jason could now see that the figure was truly featureless. The being looked like a human shadow made three-dimensional. No moonlight reflected off its matte surface.
Jason stood frozen, staring. Was this what had followed Tark? Was this a torivor? If so, Jason understood why people compared the creatures to the form Death might take. The unnatural presence of the shadowy being filled Jason with dread.
“What do you want?” Jason asked, his voice cracking.
The silent figure remained motionless.
Glancing around, Jason glimpsed another face dropping out of sight behind a window. Whatever this thing was, the giants wanted nothing to do with it.
Jason swallowed dryly.
He started down the street toward the north side of town. Listening intently, he detected no evidence of anything following him, although his own steps crunched noisily against the gravel road. Whirling, Jason beheld the shadow being standing in the road, about ten paces behind. How could it move with such stealth?
Jason turned back around and walked quickly. When he looked back, the creature once again stood less than ten paces behind him. Was this some kind of game? Jason studied the ominous figure. It made no move, threatening or otherwise. Finally, he continued along the road, walking backward, keeping his eyes on the black figure and hoping it might hold still while he watched, since Jason had yet to see it move. The dark form began to walk, advancing with fluid grace. The shadowy entity made no sound.
Facing forward, Jason hurried out of town. The road became a groomed forest path, cutting through the woods to the north.
Repeatedly Jason glanced back, always to find the dark being standing ten paces behind. He remembered that Tark had mentioned lonely nights when the mysterious creature tracking him could have attacked. But Tark had never seen the creature clearly. He had caught only glimpses. This being did not seem interested in hiding.
Pausing, Jason stared at his pursuer. The dark apparition showed no sign of aggression. But given the reaction of the giants, he had to assume it could be plenty dangerous when it wanted.
After a couple of hours, Jason felt his lack of sleep weighing him down. Tonight was less warm than the previous evening, but with dry clothes, he didn’t feel too cold. Finding a grassy patch beside the road, Jason stretched out, wadding his jacket under his head. Would the creature kill him in his sleep?
He had a feeling it might be creeping up on him. Sitting up quickly, Jason found the figure still standing roughly ten paces away.
Lying back down, mind racing, he tried to calm his nerves. Either it would kill him, or it wouldn’t. Out here alone in the woods, there wasn’t much he could do about it either way.
Jason glanced at the creature. It remained the same distance away as before, still as a statue.
“What do you want?” Jason asked.
No answer.
“Are you the thing that followed Tark? You should keep following him. He’s the real mastermind. Shoo. Go hide.”
No response.
“Okay, how about you stand guard while I sleep. Keep the giants away. Sound good? All in favor, hold perfectly still. Fine, I guess we have a deal.”
Jason felt a little silly, like he was conversing with an inanimate object. Bundling his jacket into a makeshift pillow, he closed his eyes and eventually sank into an uncomfortable sleep.