Martyr (The Martyr Trilogy) by N.P. Beckwith Page A

sight all the lesser trees of the forest bent in
reverent genuflexion.  I felt compelled to do the same, but a voice said,
"Come up." I began to climb the steepness before me, and found it
surprisingly effortless.  Gold-edged clouds drifted slowly over my head from
beyond the mountain, sailing through a lavender-hued sky.  As I drew at last
near the enormous tree that dominated this surreal landscape, I paused, as I
saw several armored figures approaching its trunk.
     
    As
I drew closer still, I saw that the men and their armor were fashioned of
carved wood, and the axes they carried were made of bark.  With these they
began to hack at the base of the tree.  The tree's trunk, I could see now, was
made of unpolished steel, and the arboreal implements quite naturally shattered
as they struck its impervious surface.  The men paused, looked at one another
in wonder, then they too splintered and flew apart as if struck by unseen bolts
of lightning.  The voice was the thunder: "Become!"  Startled, I woke
suddenly and sat up.  At once I thought I saw a shadow pass across the front of
my tent.  A moment later it was followed by a pair of feet.  Crawling to the
flap I pulled it cautiously aside and in the dim glow from the dying fire saw Maya,
followed closely by Doog, stalking through the camp in the direction of the
fallen chopper.  Doog carried armfuls of mechanical parts, Maya a large
toolbox.  I dressed hastily and followed them at a distance, stepping carefully
to avoid twigs that would betray my presence.
     
    They
moved through the camp with care, but more swiftly once they reached the
woods.  There was a moon in the sky, but it passed in and out of cloud cover,
so I struggled to keep their dark forms in sight without tailing close enough
to be heard.  Finally I decided it would be safer to let them slip out of view
and only follow the sounds of their passage.  I fell back, and when the
snapping of branches and crinkling of leaves was but a distant whisper, I
resumed my pursuit.  Whenever the sounds grew almost inaudible, I picked up the
pace momentarily.  I found it necessary to do this more and more frequently. 
How fast could they run with all that heavy equipment?  And this seemed a lot
farther on foot.  I was sweating as I raced faster and faster, now a bit
terrified of losing the sounds entirely and being lost in these woods, unable
to find my way either to the helicopter or back to camp.  Why had I come out
here after them again?  I ran on, panting heavily, then gasping, lungs aching. 
Then suddenly, unexpectedly, all sounds stopped.  I froze.  Had they reached
the clearing?  Had I lost them?  I waited a long couple of minutes, then heard
the sounds abruptly resume, far ahead and slightly to my left.  I dashed in
that direction and felt something solid knock me in the windpipe.  I went down,
flat on my back, gulping air.  I knew it hadn't been a tree branch.  I lifted
my head and looked up, straining to make out shapes in the darkness, expecting
to see the hulking form of Doog towering over me.  Instead my eyes met Maya's,
which looked back with a scolding expression.  "Why are you following us?"
she demanded.     
     
    "Why
are you being sneaky?" I asked.
     
    "We're
not being sneaky, we're being smart.  Magus' people will be looking for that
'copter.  If they find it before we get it running again they'll take it back,
and then he'll have air power too.  They don't sleep, so why should we?"
     
    I
felt quite foolish of a sudden.  "Makes sense.  Sorry about the following
and all.  I just wanted to know what was going on."
     
    "Mm-hm."
She turned to Doog, who had come back to examine Maya's handiwork.  "This
one's curious," she said, tipping her head in my general direction.  Doog
smiled and returned the nod, but said nothing.  "I once summoned a big cat
to kill a curious guy."
     
    "I
don't think that's how that saying goes," I said.
     
    "Saying?"
Maya replied, looking