sk.thetalisman-第115部分

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　　'Jack？'　Richard　asked；　his　voice　a　whiny；　irrelevant　skirl　of　sound。
　　'Would　you　be　safe　yourself？'　Jack　asked。
　　Anders　twisted　his　big　white　head　sideways　and　squinted　up　at　Jack　as　if　he　had　just　asked　a　riddle。　He　looked　like　a　huge　puzzled　dog。
　　'I　mean；　I'll　be　about　as　safe　as　you　would　be　yourself。　That's　all　I　mean。'
　　'But　my　Lord　。　。　。'
　　'Jack？'　came　Richard's　querulous　voice　again。　'I　fell　asleep；　and　now　I　should　be　awake；　but　we're　still　in　this　weird　place；　so　I'm　still　dreaming　。　。　。　but　I　want　to　be　awake；　Jack；　I　don't　want　to　have　this　dream　anymore。　No。　I　don't　want　to。'
　　And　that's　why　you　busted　your　damn　glasses；　Jack　said　to　himself。　Aloud；　he　said；　'This　isn't　a　dream；　Richie…boy。　We're　about　to　hit　the　road。　We're　gonna　take　a　train　ride。'
　　'Huh？'　Richard　said；　rubbing　his　face　and　sitting　up。　If　Anders　resembled　a　big　white　dog　in　skirts；　Richard　looked　like　nothing　so　much　as　a　newly　awakened　baby。
　　'My　Lord　Jason；'　Anders　said。　Now　he　seemed　as　if　he　might　weep…with　relief；　Jack　thought。　'It　is　yer　will？　It　is　yer　will　to　drive　that　devil…machine　through　the　Blasted　Lands？'
　　'It　sure　is；'　Jack　said。
　　'Where　are　we？'　Richard　said。　'Are　you　sure　they're　not　following　us？'　
　　Jack　turned　toward　him。　Richard　was　sitting　up　on　the　undulating　yellow　floor；　blinking　stupidly；　terror　still　drifting　about　him　like　a　fog。　'Okay；'　he　said。　'I'll　answer　your　question。　We're　in　a　section　of　the　Territories　called　Ellis…Breaks…'
　　'My　head　hurts；'　Richard　said。　He　had　closed　his　eyes。
　　'And；'　Jack　went　on；　'we're　going　to　take　this　man's　train　all　the　way　through　the　Blasted　Lands　to　the　black　hotel；　or　as　close　to　it　as　we　can　get。　That's　it；　Richard。　Believe　it　or　not。　And　the　sooner　we　do　it；　the　sooner　we'll　get　away　from　whatever　just　might　be　trying　to　find　us。'
　　'Etheridge；'　Richard　whispered。　'Mr。　Dufrey。'　He　looked　around　the　mellow　interior　of　The　Depot　as　if　he　expected　all　their　pursuers　to　suddenly　pour　through　the　walls。　'It's　a　brain　tumor；　you　know；'　he　said　to　Jack　in　a　tone　of　perfect　reasonableness。　'That's　what　it　is…my　headache。'
　　'My　Lord　Jason；'　old　Anders　was　saying；　bowing　so　low　that　his　hair　settled　down　on　the　rippling　floorboards。　'How　good　ye　are；　O　High　One；　how　good　to　yer　lowliest　servant；　how　good　to　those　who　do　not　deserve　yer　blessed　presence　'　He　crawled　forward；　and　Jack　saw　with　horror　that　he　was　about　to　begin　that　moony　foot…kissing　all　over　again。
　　'Pretty　far　advanced；　too；　I'd　say；'　Richard　offered。
　　'Get　up；　please；　Anders；'　Jack　said；　stepping　back。　'Get　up；　e　on；　that's　enough。'　The　old　man　continued　to　crawl　forward；　babbling　with　his　relief　at　not　having　to　endure　the　Blasted　Lands。　'ARISE！'　Jack　bellowed。
　　Anders　looked　up；　his　forehead　wrinkled。　'Yes；　my　Lord。'　He　slowly　got　up。
　　'Bring　your　brain　tumor　over　here；　Richard；'　Jack　said　'We're　going　to　see　if　we　can　figure　out　how　to　drive　this　damn　train。'
　　　
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　　Anders　had　moved　over　behind　the　long；　rippling　counter；　and　was　rooting　in　a　drawer。　'I　believe　it　works　on　devils；　my　Lord；'　he　said。　'Strange　devils；　all　hurtled　down　together。　They　do　not　appear　to　live；　yet　they　do。　Aye。'　He　fetched　out　of　the　drawer　the　longest；　fattest　candle　that　Jack　had　ever　seen。　From　a　box　atop　the　counter　Anders　selected　a　foot…long；　narrow　softwood　strip；　then　lowered　one　of　its　ends　into　a　glowing　lamp。　The　strip　of　wood　ignited；　and　Anders　used　it　to　light　his　enormous　candle。　Then　he　waved　the　'match'　back　and　forth　until　the　flame　expired　in　a　curl　of　smoke。
　　'Devils？'　Jack　asked。
　　'Strange　square　things…I　believe　the　devils　are　contained　therein。　Sometimes　how　they　spit　and　spark！　I　shall　show　this　to　ye；　Lord　Jason。'　
　　Without　another　word　he　swept　toward　the　door；　the　warm　glow　of　the　candle　momentarily　erasing　the　wrinkles　from　his　face。　Jack　followed　him　outside　into　the　sweetness　and　amplitude　of　the　deep　Territories。　He　remembered　a　photograph　on　the　wall　of　Speedy　Parker's　office；　a　photograph　even　then　filled　with　an　inexplicable　power；　and　realized　that　he　was　actually　near　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　an