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datatime: 2022-12-03 20:22:36 Author:hAFLGtnS

Blue fire arched over Jack's shoulder, sizzling-it was like a deadly electric rainbow. It struck one of the cow-sheep caught in the reedy muck on the other side of the stream and the unfortunate beast simply exploded, as if it had swallowed dynamite. Blood flew in a needle-spray of droplets. Gobbets of flesh began to rain down around Jack.

And the small silver thing in his hand had turned to a small rod tipped with crawling blue fire.

'Boy'

And the small silver thing in his hand had turned to a small rod tipped with crawling blue fire.

Morgan Sloat's suede boots became dark leather knee-boots, their tops turned down, what might have been the hilt of a knife poking out of one.

The wet, sizzling zap of electricity again, seeming almost to part his hair. Again it struck the other bank, this time vaporizing one of Wolf's cattle. No, Jack saw, at least not utterly. The animal's legs were still there, mired in the mud like shake-poles. As he watched, they began to sag tiredly outward in four different directions.

And the small silver thing in his hand had turned to a small rod tipped with crawling blue fire.

Jack whirled clumsily around in the stream, barely avoiding another cow-sheep, this one floating on its side, dead in the water. He saw Wolf's head going down again, both hands waving. Jack fought his way toward those hands, still dodging the cattle as best he could. One of them bunted his hip hard and Jack went over, inhaling water. He got up again quick, coughing and choking, one hand feeling inside his jerkin for the bottle, afraid it might have washed away. It was still there.

'There you are, you little shithead' Morgan bellowed at him. His voice carried, but it had a muffled, dead quality as it came from the reality of that world into the reality of this one. It was like listening to a man shout inside a telephone booth. 'Now we'll see, won't we? Won't we?'

'Wolf' Jack screamed, but thunder exploded across the blue sky again, drowning him out.

The cry was low, gargling, full of water.

And the small silver thing in his hand had turned to a small rod tipped with crawling blue fire.

The parka wavered, disappeared for a moment, then came back as a cloak and hood.

He's found me, oh dear God, he's found me.

'There you are, you little shithead' Morgan bellowed at him. His voice carried, but it had a muffled, dead quality as it came from the reality of that world into the reality of this one. It was like listening to a man shout inside a telephone booth. 'Now we'll see, won't we? Won't we?'

Morgan Sloat's suede boots became dark leather knee-boots, their tops turned down, what might have been the hilt of a knife poking out of one.

It's a lightning-rod. Oh Jesus, it's a-

The wet, sizzling zap of electricity again, seeming almost to part his hair. Again it struck the other bank, this time vaporizing one of Wolf's cattle. No, Jack saw, at least not utterly. The animal's legs were still there, mired in the mud like shake-poles. As he watched, they began to sag tiredly outward in four different directions.

'Boy'

But the Queen's son died an infant, died, he-

The cry was low, gargling, full of water.

There was another clap of thunder, this one a huge oaken thud that rolled through the sky like an artillery shell.

It's a lightning-rod. Oh Jesus, it's a-

Morgan Sloat's suede boots became dark leather knee-boots, their tops turned down, what might have been the hilt of a knife poking out of one.

But he struggled on toward Wolf, pushing a dying, weakly convulsing cow-sheep out of his way to get there.

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