In spite of her fear and disgust and complete disbelief, Ann could not help a twinge of pride that her blood was so special. So what do you want it for this time?
To create a hero, said Mordion, safe from the Reigners inside this field, who is human and not human, who can defeat the Reigners because they will not know about him until it is too late.
Ann thought about it or, to be truthful, let her head fill with a mixed hurry of feelings. Disbelief and fear mixed with a terrible sadness for Mordion, who thought he was trying the same useless thing for a third time; and horror, because Mordion just might be right; while underneath ran urgent, ordinary, homely feelings, telling her she really did have to be back for lunch. If I say yes, she said, you cant touch me and you have to let me go home safe straight afterwards.
Agreed. Mordion looked earnestly up at her. You agree?
Yes, all right, Ann said, and felt the most terrible coward saying it But what could she do, she asked herself, stuck up in a tree in a place where everything was mad, with Mordion prowling round its roots?
Mordion smiled at her again. Ann was lapped in the sweetness and friendliness of it and weakened in her already wobbly knees. But a small clinical piece of her said, he uses that smile. She watched him turn and stroll to the patch of blood, with his pleated robe swinging elegantly round him, and wondered how he thought he would create a hero. His knife was in his right hand. It caught the green woodland light as he made a swift, expert cut in the wrist of his other hand that was holding his staff. Blood ran freely, in the same unexpected quantity as Anns.
Hey! Ann said. Somehow she had not expected this.
Mordion did not seem to hear her. He was letting his blood trickle down his staff, round and among the strange carvings on it, guiding
the thick flow to drip off the wooden end and mingle with Anns blood on the path. He was certainly also working on the paratypical field. Ann had a sense of things pulsing, and twisting a little, just out of sight.
Mordion finished and stood back. Everything was still. Not a tree moved. No birds sang. Ann was not sure she breathed.
A strange welling and mounding began on the path, on either side of the patch of blood. Ann had seen water behave that way when someone had thrown a log in deep and the log was rising to the surface. She leant forward and watched, still barely breathing, moss and black earth, stones and yellow roots pouring up and aside to let something rise up from underneath. There was a glimpse of white, bone white, about four feet long, and a snarl of what looked like hair at one end. Ann bit her lip till it hurt. Next second, a bare body had risen, lying face downwards in a shallow furrow in the path. A fairly small body.
You must give him clothes, she said, while she waited for the body to grow.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mordion nod and move his staff. The body grew clothes, the same way as Mordion had done, in a blue-purple flush spreading over the dented white back and thickening into what looked like a tracksuit. The bare feet turned grey and became feet wearing old sneakers. The body squirmed, shifted, and propped itself up on its elbows, facing down the path away from both of them. It had longish draggly hair the same camel colour as Mordions.
Bump. Fell, the body remarked in a high clear voice.
Then, obviously assuming he had tripped and fallen in the path, the boy in the tracksuit picked himself up and trotted out of sight beyond the pink blossoming tree.
Mordion stood back and looked up at Ann. His face had dragged into lines. Making the boy had clearly tired him out. There, its done, he said wearily, and went to sit among the primroses again.
Arent you going to go after him? Ann asked.
Mordion shook his head.
Why not? said Ann.
I told you, Mordion said, very tired, that I learnt my lesson there. Its between him and the Reigners now, when he grows up. I shall not need to appear in it.
And how long before he grows up? Ann asked.
Mordion shrugged. Im not sure how time in this field relates to ordinary time. I suppose it will take a while.
And what happens if he goes out of the parathingummy field, Ann demanded, into real time?
Hell cease to exist, said Mordion, as if it were obvious.
Then however is he supposed to conquer these Reigners? You told me they live light years away, Ann said.
Hell have to fetch them here, said Mordion. He lay back on the bank, looking worn out.
Does he know that? Ann demanded.
Probably not, Mordion said.
Ann looked down at him, spread on the bank preparing to go to sleep, and lost her temper. Then you should go and tell him! You should look after him! Hes all alone in this wood, and hes quite small, and he doesnt even know hes not supposed to go out of it. He probably doesnt even know how to work the field to get food. You you calmly make him up, out of blood and and nothing, and you expect him to do your dirty work for you, and you dont even tell him the rules! You cant do that to a person!