It didn’t seem possible for the skull to turn any farther without the spine cracking.
When the crack came, it seemed surprisingly quiet, almost insignificant.
The body jerked and relaxed, vacated, the spirit gone. There was a dark stain appearing at the crotch of Sprite’s pants, as her bowels and bladder emptied.
Krysty stood a frozen moment, then opened her hands and staggered away from the twitching corpse. She took three tottering steps and fell like a hewed log to the earth.
Ryan ran to her, kneeling at her side, seeing that the use of the Gaia power had, as always, exacted a dreadful toll. Krysty lay completely still, unconscious, her breath rapid and shallow, her heart pounding at twice its normal speed.
“You said to the death, Wolfe,” he said. “If she dies, as well, I swear on the grave of all my friends that I’ll take your bastard life.”
But the leader of the Children of the Rock wasn’t listening. He’d turned on his heel and walked away, his head drooping, toward his own hut.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Krysty was still deeply unconscious.
Mildred sat by her, chafing her wrists, dabbing a water-soaked rag on her white forehead. There had been no sign of life since Ryan had carried her into their cabin, placing her on the bed with an infinite gentleness.
And that was nearly four hours ago.
“Any change?” he asked.
Mildred shook her head. “Not really. Though her respiration’s better than it was, and the pulse is slowed some. But she’s still way out of it.”
Jak stood in the doorway, staring out over the settlement. Sister Sprite’s body had been dragged away by half a dozen of the sec men, her heels digging twin furrows in the soft earth.
“Nobody moving,” he said, terse as ever.
Doc was propped up on one elbow on his bed, sipping at a mug of hot water and honey, held for him by Mildred, who had left Krysty for a moment. He had managed to stop coughing for several minutes, but he still looked desperately frail. Krysty lay on the adjacent bed, her eyes tight shut.
Mildred had been seriously worried for the first few minutes, but now was much happier. She decided that it had been using the power of the Earth Mother that had stricken her friend, and that time and rest would probably see her recovered in a few days.
“If we have a few days,” had been Ryan’s response. “After all that’s gone down, I’d like us to be away from here as soon as possible.”
After the death of Sister Sprite, the ville had been quiet. A dog had started yapping, then they had heard the sound of a blow, and the animal had become silent.
“What do you reckon happens next, bro?” J.B. asked, standing next to Ryan, by Krysty’s bed.
“No idea. You?”
The Armorer pushed back the brim of his battered fedora and shook his head. “Bones might fall either side of the line. By their rules we all passed the testing.”
“Except you, me, Dean and Doc.”
“Baron’s coming,” Jak said, moving away from the doorway. “Alone.”
A shadow fell across the floor, and Brother Joshua Wolfe walked into the hut,
“Good afternoon, outlanders,” he said quietly. “How is Sister Wroth?”
“She’ll be real fine,” Mildred replied. “How are the Burrows boys?”
“Shaken. Got the wise woman to give them some sleeping herbs. Set the breaks. Should help. We have to do some talking about the rest of the testing.”
“Haven’t had enough?” Jak snapped. “Want everyone in ville chilled?”
Wolfe looked at him. Ryan noticed that the man was stroking the stump of his amputated arm. “Race isn’t over until the fat lady crosses the line, kid.”
“Don’t call kid.”
“Sure.”
Ryan sat on the side of the bed, hearing the springs creak under his weight. “What happens next? What do you want me, Dean and J.B. to do for our testing?”
Wolfe shrugged. “The boy’s not of age. He’s excused. I’ve seen enough of both of you, personally, to know that there’s no need for you to face any trial. You are two of the most dangerous men in all of Deathlands. There’s no need for you to be tested.”