He reached out a cloud-sized arm and sank fingers into the slope above the riders, clawing at it. The soil was sodden and saturated by so much rain. It moved easily.
This game was fun! Too late, the one available demon sensed the opposing power. It rose like black smoke to give battle, and then paused with evil glee as it saw the ploy. The damage was already done, anyway.
The side of the hill slid away bodily. Green slope became a carpet of brown mud, slithering downward, ripping up bushes, tearing out rocks, picking up speed. The ground moved in waves. Unbearable sound filled the valley. A gale roared ahead of the landslide. Valda looked up and screamed. The demon fled back to aid her. On the far slope, long-horned cattle stampeded in terror.
The mud slide poured down the mountain, burying the river, burying the road, rushing partway up the opposite slope. In seconds, the heap rose like brown dough, filling the gorge, building a mountain, spreading out sideways along the trail. Boulders bounced free ahead of the advancing wall. The thunder was a palpable presence, paralyzing the mortals. They could do nothing but stare at the approaching cataclysm; and then the hurricane bowled them over, hurling them to the ground and rolling them — all except the big one, who leaned into the wind.
The mass steadied before it reached them, the muck bubbling and writhing like a giant slug as it settled in place, its deathly roar fading to a steady, comforting beat:
Fun! Fun! More! Farther up the glen were other wet slopes just waiting to roll down…
CHAPTER TWO
'Toby!
The first thing he noticed was Meg's face, all black with mire around two white, staring eyes: comical. That had been Meg shouting. Her cape and dress were thick with mud. Rory and Hamish were helping Father Lachlan to his feet, and every one of them was slathered in it, like human pigsties. Funny.
He was all right, just wet.
'Are you all right?' Meg repeated urgently.
'Yes, I think so…' He was mortal again… merely mortal, back in the cold and the wind. He had a waning sense of loss, of heady power lost. Clouds mantled the hills again, but he could still taste the savage joy he had felt when he clawed down a mountainside to destroy a foe.
The glen had fallen silent. A wall of glistening mud blocked it; the air reeked of wet soil. The river flowed no more.
Father Lachlan wiped his spectacles on the sleeve of his robe, and put them on again so he could peer at Toby over them.
'Was that your doing, my son?'
Toby looked down at his hand. There was no dirt under his nails, but he felt as if there should be. He could remember the strange sensation of digging his fingers into the hillside. He had soared with the eagles. He had looked
'Mine? How could I do that?'
'I suppose the rain could have set off the slide,' the acolyte muttered uncertainly, as if trying to convince himself.
'It was a very fortuitous rescue,' Rory remarked shakily. 'Is she dead?'
Toby faced four incredulous stares. They were not fools, none of them. They were all smarter than he was. They could not have seen what he had seen — Toby Strangerson grown to the size of a mountain. If they had seen that, they would be fleeing in all directions. But they must have noticed him behaving oddly, and if he tried to explain, they would flee from him now. He was possessed, demonized, uncanny. Leper!
'Dead? Valda? How should I know?' He did not think she was dead. The demons had been trying to save her. Even if they had succeeded, though, she must be in disarray. No, she was not a threat now — but he dared not say so.
'So it was Valda?' Rory snapped.
Toby shrugged. 'Your eyes are as good as mine.'
'We had best get out of here!' Father Lachlan said. 'There may be more slides ready to fall.'
Not unless Toby arranged them. If Meg had not called him back when she did… He did not want to think about that.
'We'll have to turn back,' Rory said. 'The road's blocked. No reason not to now, is there?'
'Is the danger over?' Father Lachlan asked, still sounding shaky. He meant:
Toby said, 'We could get by. We can go on to Dumbarton.'
'In this weather?' Rory growled. 'There's no hurry anymore, is there? Demons, but I'd like to get out of this rain! I have friends here. I can lead us to a warm, dry house and some civilized comfort. I didn't dare go there as long as I thought there was a hexer after us. If we're safe now, then that's where we ought to go before we all freeze to death. We're not in a hurry, are we? Only Sassenachs to worry about now?'
He stared challengingly at Toby.
Toby looked at Meg. Her lips were white. She had done marvelously well. For two whole days, she had survived cold and wet and hunger and physical torment. To submit her to more days and nights of those would be deliberate cruelty. He had promised to look after her, and he must not gamble her life just to safeguard his own skin.
'All right!' he said. 'All
Rory smiled at having his suspicions confirmed, but it was a sickly imitation of his customary smirk. 'You brought down that slide?'
'My demon did.'
Still the panic did not come. They all exchanged glances, but they did not flee in terror, as they should.
'Beautiful!' The rebel laughed. 'Attaboy, Little Man! Oh, what we would have given to have had you at Parline Field, when the bowstrings broke in our fingers and our gunpowder turned to salt! Come on, then, all of you — I know where we can find dry beds tonight. Longdirk, you're a hexer after my own heart!'
He moved as if to go, expecting his followers to follow, but everyone just stood. He frowned and folded his arms.
Hamish chewed his lip. 'I don't think you're a hexer, Toby.' He did not look very certain, though.
'I do,' Toby said.
'Don't say that!' Meg screamed. 'Don't even joke about it!'
Father Lachlan was adjusting his spectacles, waiting patiently.
'They were all dead!' Toby said. 'Almost all! Dead already, I mean. The two men I killed earlier, and all the horses. And the other woman… she was breathing, but not… not thinking. Valda was laughing.' His voice was becoming shrill. He felt sick.
'The spirit saw no evil in you, my son. Tell me what happened.'
'What did you see?'
'Nothing. You just stood and stared.'
'That's all?'
The acolyte pulled his hood up as the rain began to grow heavier again. 'You did have a strange expression on your face.'
'A grin? A sort of idiot simper?'
'I suppose so.' He reached up to pat Toby's shoulder ineffectually. 'You can tell me later. What matters is that you have chased the evil away, at least for a while. The spirit said you might, remember?'
It had also said that his troubles would be just beginning.
'It was different this time, somehow. It's never quite the same twice. The demon must be learning how to
