Boneland. Part 22

'The signals from Ethel were "nearly" here before the axe was made.'

'Oh, I like it,' said Meg. 'That's poetry. Not half it isn't.'

They came to a T-junction. On one side was a squat block of conglomerate sandstone in a gra.s.sy bank, a clunched ma.s.s of pebbles glancing the afternoon.

'What's this?' said Meg.

'The Goldenstone.'

'But it's grey. And packed with quartz. What's it doing here?'

'It's a merestone.'

'A mere stone? I think it's impressive. It's huge.'

'A boundary stone. About twelve tonnes. Come on. Boundaries aren't safe.'

'Why aren't they?'

'Because they're not. They occupy neither s.p.a.ce nor time. Boundaries can change apparent realities. They let things through. Come on. If we keep stopping we'll never get to where you want to see before it's too late. In the day, I mean.'

'Right. Shut up, Meg.'

The broad way took them to Stormy Point. Across the waste a hollow path led back into the trees. As they entered, Meg picked up loose pebbles that lay on the ground.

'They're pretty. Hey, this here is a bit of all right.'

They were at a ridge, and the ground dropped to the plain. It was a beech wood, and the trunks were twisted green flames above brown fallen leaves that let nothing grow. The sunlight was shafts between. The path dipped to a saddle and rose beyond.

'It's a cathedral,' said Meg.

'There are your rocks,' said Colin. 'Help yourself.' He kept back.

The rocks stood over the path. One was much taller than the others, a tapering wedge of sandstone. There was a shelf in front. Meg stepped onto it. She patted the stone. 'This is one brute of a bloke, and that's for sure. Come up.'

'I'm happy where I am.'

Meg continued to examine the rock. 'More pebbles,' she said. 'White quartz. Just like the Goldenstone.'

'Yes. It's possible it was fetched from near here.'

'Wow. Some job.'

'Quite simple, actually,' said Colin. 'Have you seen all that you want to see?'

'Wait your sweat,' said Meg. She took two of the pebbles that she had gathered on Stormy Point out of her pocket, and with one in each hand began to rub the quartz on the rock.

'Don't do that,' said Colin. 'Don't do it.'

'I'm trying to make that light,' said Meg.

'It's not dark enough,' said Colin. 'Stop.'

'But I like the sound.'

Colin jumped onto the shelf, his robes swelling.

'Stop! I said stop!' He grabbed Meg's wrists.

'Colin. Let go. Let go of me, please.' Her voice was calm.

'You mustn't! Stop it! Stop!'

'I said let go.'

Colin pulled her hands away from the sandstone. Meg moved her forearms in a twist against the joints of his thumbs, and Colin fell on the rock, covered by his robes. The bonnet rolled down the hill.

He pushed himself up. 'Ground strike! Side splas.h.!.+ a.s.sume the position!' He crouched, curled, his head at his knees, covered by his crossed arms, balancing himself on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet. 'Don't touch the ground with the hands!'

'You've got the drill OK, but aren't you shutting the stable door a bit late, chum?' said Meg. 'That nag bolted long ago.'

Colin whimpered.

'Didn't it?'

Colin put his hand to his collar and dragged it down. There was a line of thickened discoloured skin on his neck.

'Here. Look.'

'Good job it was raining when you were hit, Colin,' said Meg. 'The flashover may have saved your life.'

Colin moaned. 'This is the mark of the blame I bear in my neck. This is the sign of loss, of coveting and cowardice that caught me.' He pulled at the hood of green silk. 'This is the token of untruth that I've been snared in, and there's no getting out of it for me for the rest of my life.'

'Oh, give over,' said Meg. 'You p.i.s.s more than you drink. Come on. Up with you.'

She helped him to stand and get down from the shelf, and she sat with him on a bank of earth by the path.

'No wonder you don't come here, if that's what it does to you. You really are a proper drama queen, aren't you? I've said that to you before.'

'You don't know.'

'I can't if you don't let me in. This isn't the first time, Colin. What happened that day? Tell Aunty Meg.'

He cuddled up to her. 'I never come here. Never since. I didn't mean it.'

'I think you did,' said Meg. 'But mean what?'

'I didn't mean to do it.'

'Do what?'

'Nothing.'

'Have you got that stone in your pocket?'

'Yes. Always, now. How do I get into the mind of who made this?'

'Squeeze,' said Meg. 'Squeeze it. Shut your eyes. Squeeze hard.'

'Why?'

'Don't ask. Do.'

He put his hand into his pocket, and shut his eyes. Lights came in the dark from his lids. Lights from within the stone.

'Squeeze.'

'Flashback! Flashback!'

'Now, Colin. While it's there. Now. It's your chance. You may not have another. You're safe. I'm holding you. Go for it.'

'I can't. I did so much wrong.'

'You can. You've got to learn to forgive yourself. Whatever it is. No one else is blaming you. No one else cares. And you know I can't be doing with whining self-pity. Set it free.'

'Set it free?'

'Set it free.'

'Like the crow?'

'Set it free.'

He looked at the pebbles in the rock, and shut his eyes again.

'Silicon,' said Meg. 'Moonlight. You have the black stone. Black blacker than black. The Grail. The Question. "What is this thing? What does it mean? Whom does it serve?" Ask. Squeeze. Squeeze hard. Squeeze harder. As if carbon. Squeeze carbon. Squeeze carbon as far as it will. As far as carbon can.'

'But if it's not carbon ...'

'Faith.'

'How?'

'Belief, Colin.'

'I can't.'

'Reality. You can.'

'No.'

'Truth.'

'Yes.'

'What do you get?'

'Yes. Yes.'

'What do you get?'

'I get. I get. Get-diamond!'

'At last. At final, bleeding last. Colin, you've done it.'

'Diamond. Eternal.'

He lay against her. The Edge trembled with sobbing.

'They say. They say.'

'Yes.'

'They say.'

'Who say?'

'They say. They say. They say there are. Men. In the hill. Horses. A king. In the hill. Here. Asleep. Waiting. Waiting.'

'For what?'

'Waiting. Until it's Time.'

'I understand.'

'They mustn't wake. Ever. Not till it's Time.'

'I understand you, Colin.'

'But it is Time. It's Time now. I need. I need them now. I must wake them. They'll find her. They will.'

'Oh, you poor lad.'

'So I come. I come here. I hit the rock. The pebbles. I'm calling. "Wake up! It's Time! Find her! It's Time!" Then the lights. The lightning: blue, silver, blue silver. Lightning. All around. Thunder. "Wake up! You must find her!" Then. There's a cloud above. Not big. Right over me. It's starting to rain. Heavy. There's the man. The tall man. Thin. He's old. He's very old. He should be dead. But he's not. He can't. He's angry. He's looking at me. His eyes. He curses me. His eyes! He curses me with forgetting and remembering, dreaming and waking! No! Flashback! Dreams! Always dreams! Always him! He puts his fate on me! To guard! To dream! For all Time!'

'Wha-hey, you're in lumber now sure enough, Colin, my love. You're down in the collective now. Well down. You're on Tom Tiddler's ground, and there's no picking up gold and silver for you here. There is not. And do you wonder? They're the Sleepers. You don't mess with those guys. You don't mix it with them, my friend. Once they wake, it's curtains.'

'But are they real?'