sk.thetalisman-第104部分

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r　the　site　of　that　photograph。　Far　off　rose　a　familiar…looking　mountain。　Down　the　little　knoll　the　fields　of　grain　rolled　away　in　all　directions；　waving　in　smooth；　wide　patterns。　Richard　Sloat　moved　hesitantly　beside　Jack；　rubbing　his　forehead。　The　silvery　bands　of　metal；　out　of　key　with　the　rest　of　the　landscape；　stretched　inexorably　west。
　　'The　shed　is　in　back；　my　Lord；'　Anders　said　softly；　and　almost　shyly　turned　away　toward　the　side　of　The　Depot。　Jack　took　another　glance　at　the　far…off　mountain。　Now　it　looked　less　like　the　mountain　in　Speedy's　photograph…newer…a　western；　not　an　eastern；　mountain。
　　'What's　with　that　Lord　Jason　business？'　Richard　whispered　right　into　his　ear。　'He　thinks　he　knows　you。'
　　'It's　hard　to　explain；'　Jack　said。
　　Richard　tugged　at　his　bandanna；　then　clamped　a　hand　on　Jack's　biceps。　The　old　Kansas　City　Clutch。　'What　happened　to　the　school；　Jack？　What　happened　to　the　dogs？　Where　are　we？'
　　'Just　e　along；'　Jack　said。　'You're　probably　still　dreaming。'
　　'Yes；'　Richard　said　in　the　tone　of　purest　relief。　'Yes；　that's　it；　isn't　it？　I'm　still　asleep。　You　told　me　all　that　crazy　stuff　about　the　Territories；　and　now　I'm　dreaming　about　it。'
　　'Yeah；'　Jack　said；　and　set　off　after　Anders。　The　old　man　was　holding　up　the　enormous　candle　like　a　torch　and　drifting　down　the　rear　side　of　the　knoll　toward　another；　slightly　larger；　octagonal　wooden　building。　The　two　boys　followed　him　through　the　tall　yellow　grass。　Light　spilled　from　another　of　the　transparent　globes；　revealing　that　this　second　building　was　open　at　opposite　ends；　as　if　two　matching　faces　of　the　octagon　had　been　neatly　sliced　away。　The　silvery　train　tracks　ran　through　these　open　ends。　Anders　reached　the　large　shed　and　turned　around　to　wait　for　the　boys。　With　the　flaring；　sputtering；　upheld　candle；　his　long　beard　and　odd　clothes；　Anders　resembled　a　creature　from　legend　or　faery；　a　sorcerer　or　wizard。
　　'It　sits　here；　as　it　has　since　it　came；　and　may　the　demons　drive　it　hence。'　Anders　scowled　at　the　boys；　and　all　his　wrinkles　deepened。　'Invention　of　hell。　A　foul　thing；　d'ye　ken。'　He　looked　over　his　shoulder　when　the　boys　were　before　him。　Jack　saw　that　Anders　did　not　even　like　being　in　the　shed　with　the　train。　'Half　its　cargo　is　aboard；　and　it；　too；　stinks　of　hell。'　
　　Jack　stepped　into　the　open　end　of　the　shed；　forcing　Anders　to　follow　him。　Richard　stumbled　after；　rubbing　his　eyes。　The　little　train　sat　pointing　west　on　the　tracks…an　odd…looking　engine；　a　boxcar；　a　flatcar　covered　with　a　straining　tarp。　From　this　last　car　came　the　smell　Anders　so　disliked。　It　was　a　wrong　smell；　not　of　the　Territories；　both　metallic　and　greasy。
　　Richard　immediately　went　to　one　of　the　interior　angles　of　the　shed；　sat　down　on　the　floor　with　his　back　to　the　wall；　and　closed　his　eyes。
　　'D'ye　ken　its　workings；　my　Lord？'　Anders　asked　in　a　low　voice。
　　Jack　shook　his　head　and　walked　up　along　the　tracks　to　the　head　of　the　train。　Yes；　there　were　Anders's　'demons。'　They　were　box　batteries；　just　as　Jack　had　supposed。　Sixteen　of　them；　in　two　rows　strung　together　in　a　metal　container　supported　by　the　cab's　first　four　wheels。　The　entire　front　part　of　the　train　looked　like　a　more　sophisticated　version　of　a　deliveryboy's　bicycle…cart…but　where　the　bicycle　itself　should　have　been　was　a　little　cab　which　reminded　Jack　of　something　else　。　。　。　something　he　could　not　immediately　identify。
　　'The　demons　talk　to　the　upright　stick；'　Anders　said　from　behind　him。
　　Jack　hoisted　himself　up　into　the　little　cab。　The　'stick'　Anders　had　mentioned　was　a　gearshift　set　in　a　slot　with　three　notches。　Then　Jack　knew　what　the　little　cab　resembled。　The　whole　train　ran　on　the　same　principle　as　a　golf　cart。　Battery…powered；　it　had　only　three　gears：　forward；　neutral；　and　reverse。　It　was　the　only　sort　of　train　that　might　possibly　work　in　the　Territories；　and　Morgan　Sloat　must　have　had　it　specially　constructed　for　him。
　　'The　demons　in　the　boxes　spit　and　spark；　and　talk　to　the　stick；　and　the　stick　moves　the　train；　my　Lord。'　Anders　hovered　anxiously　beside　the　cab；　his　face　contorting　into　an　astonishing　display　of　wrinkles。
　　'You　were　going　to　leave　in　the　morning？'　Jack　asked　the　old　man。
　　'Aye。'
　　'But　the　train　is　ready　now？'
　　'Yes；　my　Lord。'
　　Jack　nodded；　and　jumped　down。　'What's　the　cargo？'
　　'Devil…things；'　Anders　said　grimly。　'For　the　bad　Wolfs。　To　take　to　the　black　hotel。'　
　　I'd　be　a　jump　ahead　of　Morgan　Sloat　if　I　left　now；　Jack　thought。　And　looked　uneasily　over　at　Richard；　who　had　managed　to　put　himself　asleep　again。　If　it　weren't　for　pig…headed；　hypochondriacal　Rational　Richard；　he　would　never　have　stumbled　onto　Sloat's　choo…choo；　and　Sloat　would　have　been　able　to　use　the　'devil…things'…weapons　of　some　kind；　surely…against　him　as　soon　as　he　got　near　the　black　hotel。　For　the　hotel　was　the　end　of　his　quest；　he　was　sure　of　that　now。　And　all　of　that　seemed　to　argue　that　Richard；　as　helpless　and　annoying　as　he　now　was；　was　going　to　be　more　important　to　his　quest　than　Jack　had　ever　imagined。　The　son　of　Sawyer　and　the　son　of　Sloat：　the　son　of　Prince　Philip　Sawtelle　and　the　son　of　Morgan　of　Orris。　For　an　instant　the　world　wheeled　above　Jack　and　he　snagged　a　second's　insight　that　Richard　might　just　be　essential　to　whatever　he　was　going　to　have　to　do　in　the　black　hotel。　Then　Richard　snuffled　and　let　his　mouth　drop　open；　and　the　feeling　of　momentary　prehension　slipped　away　from　Jack。
　　'Let's　have　a　look　at　those　devil…things；'　he　said。　He　whirled　around　and　marched　back　down　the　length　of　the　train；　along　the　way　noticing　for　the　first　time　that　the　floor　of　the　octagonal　shed　was　in　two　sections…most　of　it　was　one　round　circular　mass；　like　an　enormous　dinner　plate。　Then　there　was　a　break　in　the　wood；　and　what　was　beyond　the　perimeter　of　the　circle　extended　to　the　walls。　Jack　had　never　heard　of　a　roundhouse；　but　he　understood　the　concept：　the　circular　part　of　the　floor　could　turn　a　hundred　and　eighty　degrees。　Normally；　trains　or　coaches　came　in　from　the　east；　and　returned　in　the　same　direction。
　　The　tarpaulin　had　been　tied　down　over　the　cargo　with　thick　brown　cord　so　hairy　it　looked　like　steel　wool。　Jack　strained　to　lift　an　edge；　peered　under；　saw　only　blackness。　'Help　me；'　he　said；　turning　to　Anders。
　　The　old　man　stepped　forward；　frowning；　and　with　one　strong；　deft　motion　released　a　knot。　The　tarpaulin　loosened　and　sagged。　Now　when　Jack　lifted　its　edge；　he　saw　that　half　of　the　flatcar　held　a　row　of　wooden　boxes　stencilled　MACHINE　PARTS。　Guns；　he　thought：　Morgan　is　arming　his　rebel　Wolfs。　The　other　half　of　the　space　beneath　the　tarp　was　occupied　by　bulky　rectangular　packages　of　a　squashy…looking　substance　wrapped　in　layers　of　clear　plastic　sheeting。　Jack　had　no　idea　what　this　substance　might　be；　but　he　was　pretty　sure　it　wasn't　Wonder　Bread。　He　dropped　the　tarpaulin　and　stepped　back；　and　Anders　pulled　at　the　thick　rope　and　knotted　it　again。
　　'We're　going　tonight；'　Jack　said；　having　just　decided　this。
　　'But　my　Lord　Jason　。　。　。　the　Blasted　Lands　。　。　。　at　night　。　。　。　d'ye　ken…'
　　'I　ken；　all　right；'　Jack　said。　'I　ken　that　I'll　need　all　the　surprise　I　can　whip　up。　Morgan　and　that　man　the　Wolfs　call　He　of　the　Lashes　are　going　to　be　looking　for　me；　and　if　I　show　up　twelve　hours　before　anybody　is　expecting　this　train；　Richard　and　I　might　get　away　alive。'　
　　Anders　nodded　gloomily；　and　again　looked　like　an　oversize　dog　acmodating　itself　to　unhappy　knowledge。
　　Jack　looked　at　Richard　again…asleep；　sitting　up　with　his　mouth　open。　As　if　he　knew　what　was　in　Jack's　mind；　Anders；　too；　looked　toward　sleeping　Richard。　'Did　Morgan　of　Orris　have　a　son？'　Jack　asked。
　　'He　did；　my　Lord。　Morgan's　brief　marriage　had　issue…a　boy　child　named　Rushton。'
　　'And　what　became　of　Rushton？　As　if　I　couldn't　guess。'
　　'He　died；'　Anders　said　simply。　'Morgan　of　Orris　was　not　meant　to　be　a　father。'　
　　Jack　shuddered；　remembering　how　his　enemy　had　torn　his　way　through　the　air　and　nearly　killed　Wolf's　entire　herd。
　　'We're　going；'　he　said。　'Will　you　please　help　me　get　Richard　into　the　cab；　Anders？'
　　'My　Lord　。　。　。'　Anders　hung　his　head；　then　lifted　it　and　gave　Jack　a　look　of　almost　parental　concern。　'The　journey　will　require　at　least　two　days；　perhaps　three；　before　ye　reach　the　western　shore。　Have　ye　any　food？　Would　ye　share　my　evening　meal？'　
　　Jack　shook　his　head；　impatient　to　begin　this　last　leg　of　his　journey　to　the　Talisman；　but　then　his　stomach　abruptly　growled；　reminding　him　of　how　long　it　had　been　since　he　had　eaten　anything　but　the　Ring…Dings　and　stale　Famous　Amos　cookies　in　Albert　the　Blob's　room。　'Well；'　he　said；　'I　suppose　another　half　hour　won't　make　any　difference。　Thank　you；　Anders。　Help　me　get　Richard　up　on　his　feet；　will　you？'　And　maybe；　he　thought；　he　wasn't　so　eager　to　cross　the　Blasted　Lands　after　all。
　　The　two　of　them　jerked　Richard　to　his　feet。　Like　the　Dormouse；　he　opened　his　eyes；　smiled；　and　sagged　back　to　sleep　again。　'Food；'　Jack　said。　'Real　food。　You　up　for　that；　chum？'
　　'I　never　eat　in　dreams；'　Richard　answered　with　surreal　rationality。　He　yawned；　then　wiped　his　eyes。　He　gradually　had　found　his　feet；　and　no　longer　leaned　against　Anders　and　Jack。　'I　am　pretty　hungry；　though；　to　tell　you　the　truth。　I'm　having　a　long　dream；　aren't　I；　Jack？'　He　seemed　almost　proud　of　it。
　　'Yep；'　said　Jack。
　　'Say；　is　that　the　train　we're　going　to　take？　It　looks　like　a　cartoon。'
　　'Yep。'
　　'Can　you　drive　that　thing；　Jack？　It's　my　dream；　I　know；　but…'
　　'It's　about　as　hard　to　operate　as　my　old　electric　train　set；'　Jack　said。　'I　can　drive　it；　and　so　can　you。'
　　'I　don't　want　to；'　Richard　said；　and　that　cringing；　whining　tone　came　back　into　his　voice　again。　'I　don't　want　to　get　on　that　train　at　all。　I　want　to　go　back　to　my　room。'
　　'e　and　have　some　food　instead；'　Jack　said；　and　found　himself　leading　Richard　out　of　the　shed。　'Then　we're　on　our　way　to　California。'
　　
　　And　so　the　Territories　showed　one　of　its　best　faces　to　the　boys　immediately　before　they　entered　the　Blasted　Lands。　Anders　gave　them　thick　sweet　slices　of　bread　clearly　made　from　the　grain　growing　around　The　Depot；　kebabs　of　tender　sections　of　meat　and　plump　juicy　unfamiliar　vegetables；　a　spicy　pink　juice　that　Jack　for　some　reason　thought　of　as　papa