and the altered geography of Point Venuti was lit up as if the God of All Universes had bent forward to snap a picture. Jack saw the Agincourt, slumped and half-destroyed; he saw the collapsed Highlands that were now the Lowlands; he saw Richard on his back; he saw Speedy lying on his belly with his face turned to one side. Speedy was smiling.
Then Morgan Sloat was driven backward and enveloped in a field of fire from his own key - fire that had been absorbed inside the Talisman as the flashes of light from Sunlight Gardener's telescopic sight had been absorbed - and which was returned to him a thousandfold.
A hole opened between the worlds - a hole the size of the tunnel leading into Oatley - and Jack saw Sloat, his handsome brown suit burning, one skeletal, tallowy hand still clutching the key, driven through that hole. Sloat's eyes were boiling in their sockets, but they were wide . . . they were aware.
And as he passed, Jack saw him change - saw the cloak appear like the wings of a bat that has swooped through the flame of a torch, saw his burning boots, his burning hair. Saw the key become a thing like a miniature lightning-rod.
Saw . . . daylight!
8
It came back in a flood. Jack rolled away from it on the snowy beach, dazzled. In his ears - ears deep inside his head - he heard Morgan Sloat's dying scream as he was driven back through all the worlds that were, into oblivion.
'Jack?' Richard was sitting up woozily, holding his head. 'Jack, what happened? I think I fell down the stadium steps.'
Speedy was twitching in the snow, and now he did a sort of girl's pushup and looked toward Jack. His eyes were exhausted . . . but his face was clear of blemishes.
'Good job, Jack,' he said, and grinned. 'Good - ' He fell partway forward again, panting.
Rainbow, Jack thought woozily. He stood up and then fell down again. Freezing snow coated his face and then began to melt like tears. He pushed himself to his knees, then stood up again. The field of his vision was filled with spots . . . but he saw the enormous burned swatch in the snow where Morgan had stood. It tailed away like a teardrop.
'Rainbow!' Jack Sawyer shouted, and raised his hands to the sky, weeping and laughing. 'Rainbow! Rainbow!'
He went to the Talisman, and picked it up, still weeping.
He took it to Richard Sloat, who had been Rushton; to Speedy Parker, who was what he was.
He healed them.
Rainbow, rainbow, rainbow!
CHAPTER 46 Another Journey
1
He healed them, but he was never able to recall exactly how that had gone, or any of the specific details - for a while the Talisman had blazed and sung in his hands, and he had the vaguest possible memory of its fire's actually seeming to flow out over them until they glowed in a bath of light. That was all he could bring back.
At the end of it, the glorious light in the Talisman faded . . . faded . . . went out.
Jack, thinking of his mother, uttered a hoarse, wailing cry.
Speedy staggered over to him through the melting snow and put an arm around Jack's shoulders.
'It be back, Travellin Jack,' Speedy said. He smiled, but he looked twice as tired as Jack. Speedy had been healed . . . but he was still not well. This world is killing him, Jack thought dimly. At least, it's killing the part of him that's Speedy Parker. The Talisman healed him . . . but he is still dying.
'You did for it,' Speedy said, 'and you wanna believe that it's gonna do for you. Don't worry. Come on over here, Jack. Come on over to where your frien' be layin.'
Jack did. Richard was sleeping in the melting snow. That horrid loose flap of skin was gone, but there was a long white streak of scalp showing in his hair now - a streak of scalp from which no hair would ever grow.
'Take his han'.'
'Why? What for?'
'We're gonna flip.'
Jack looked at Speedy questioningly, but Speedy offered no explanation. He only nodded, as if to say Yes; you heard me right.
Well, Jack thought, I trusted him this far -
He reached down and took Richard's hand. Speedy held Jack's other hand.
With hardly a tug at all, the three of them went over.
2
It was as Jack had intuited - the figure standing beside him over here, on this black sand that was stitched everywhere by Morgan of Orris's dragging foot, looked hale and hearty and healthy.
Jack stared with awe - and some unease - at this stranger who looked a bit like Speedy Parker's younger brother.
'Speedy - Mr. Parkus, I mean - what are you - '
'You boys need rest,' Parkus said. 'You for sure, this other young squire even more. He came closer to dying than anyone will ever know but himself . . . and I don't think he's the type to do much admitting, even to himself.'
'Yeah,' Jack said. 'You got that right.'
'He'll rest better over here,' Parkus told Jack, and struck off up the beach, away from the castle, carrying Richard. Jack stumbled along as best he could, but gradually found himself falling behind. He was quickly out of breath, his legs rubbery. His head ached with reaction from the final battle - shock hangover, he supposed.
'Why . . . where . . .' That was all he could pant. He held the Talisman against his chest. It was dull now, its exterior sooty and opaque and uninteresting.
'Just up a little way,' Parkus said. 'You and your friend don't want to rest where he was, do you?'