“And do what?”
“Keep out of the way, while the war is on,” said Nancy. He flipped his turn signal, and took a left.
“Hide yourself, for a little time,” said Czernobog! “Then, when this is over, you will come back to me, and I will finish the whole thing.”
Shadow said, “Where are we taking the body?”
“Virginia. There’s a tree,” said Nancy.
“A world tree,” said Czernobog with gloomy satisfaction. “We had one ifl my part of the world. But ours grew under the world, not above it.”
“We put him at the foot of the tree,” said Nancy. “We leave him there. We let you go. We drive south. There’s a battle. Blood is shed. Many die. The world changes, a little.”
“You don’t want me at your battle? I’m pretty big. I’m good in a fight.”
Nancy turned his head to Shadow and smiled—the first real smile Shadow had seen on Mr. Nancy’s face since he had rescued Shadow from the Lumber County Jail. “Most of this battle will be fought in a place you cannot go, and you cannot touch.”
“In the hearts and the minds of the people” said Czernobog. “Like at the big roundabout.”
“Huh?”
“The carousel,” said Mr. Nancy.
“Oh,” said Shadow. “Backstage. I got it. Like the desert with the bones in.”
Mr. Nancy raised his head. “Every time I figure you don’t have enough sense to bring guts to a bear, you surprise me. Yeah, that’s where the real battle will happen. Everythin’ else will just be flash and thunder.”
“Tell me about the vigil,” said Shadow.
“Someone has to stay with the body. It’s a tradition. We’ll find somebody.”
“He wanted me to do it.”
“No,” said Czernobog. “It will kill you. Bad, bad, bad idea.”
“Yeah? It’ll kill me? To stay with his body?”
“It’s not what I’d want at my funeral,” said Mr. Nancy. “When I die, I just want them to plant me somewhere warm. And then when pretty women walk over my grave I would grab their ankles, like in that movie.”
“I never saw mat movie,” said Czernobog.
“Of course you did. It’s right at the end. It’s the high school movie. All the children goin’ to the prom.”
Czernobog shook his head.
Shadow said, “The film’s called Carrie, Mr. Czernobog. Okay, one of you tell me about the vigil.”
Nancy said, “You tell him. I’m drivin’.”
“I never heard of no film called Carrie. You tell him.”
Nancy said, “The person on the vigil—gets tied to the tree. Just like Wednesday was. And then they hang there for nine days and nine nights. No food, no water. All alone. At the end they cut the person down, and if they lived ... well, it could happen. And Wednesday will have had his vigil.”
Czernobog said, “Maybe Alviss will send us one of his people. A dwarf could survive it.”
“I’ll do it,” said Shadow.
“No,” said Mr. Nancy.
“Yes,” said Shadow.
The two old men were silent Then Nancy said, “Why?”
“Because it’s the kind of thing a living person would do,” said Shadow.
“You are crazy,” said Czernobog.
“Maybe. But I’m going to hold Wednesday’s vigil”
When they stopped for gas Czernobog announced he felt sick and wanted to ride in the front. Shadow didn’t mind moving to the back of the bus. He could stretch out more, and sleep.
They drove on in silence. Shadow felt that he’d made a decision; something big and strange.
“Hey. Czernobog,” said Mr. Nancy, afteB a wrote. “You check out the technical boy back at the motel? He was not happy. He’s been screwin’ with something that screwed him right back. That’s the biggest trouble with thf new kids—they figure they know every thin’, and you can’t teach them nothin’ but the hard way.”
“Good,” said Czernobog.
Shadow was stretched out full length on the seat in the back. He felt like two people, or more than two. There was part of him that felt gently exhilarated: he had done something. He had moved. It wouldn’t have mattered if he hadn’t wanted to live, but he did want to live, and that made all the difference. He hoped he would live through this, but he was willing to die, if mat was what it took to be alive. And, for a moment he thought that the whole thing was funny, just the funniest thing in the world; and he wondered if Laura would appreciate the joke.
There was another part of him—maybe it was Mike Ain-sel, he thought, vanished off into nothing at the press of a button in the Lakeside Police Department—who was still trying to figure it all out, trying to see the big picture..
“Hidden Indians,” he said out loud.
“What?” came Czernobog’s irritated croak from the front seat.