Fade to Black (43 page)

"There must be something you can tell me."

Another silence passed, then the Old Man said, "I could tell you a lot of things. Old people can talk for hours. A long time ago I heard two people talking. I think they came from across a great ocean. One kept asking questions and the other one kept trying to answer. How many fish are there in the pond? one asked.

The other one didn't know. He tried to guess. What he didn't seem to understand was that there was no answer. Maybe there aren't any answers at all, except the ones you find for yourself."

"What about truth?"

The Old Man shrugged again. "Truth is one of those things. Everyone sees it their own way. You're a shaman. You should know that better than anyone. Ask twenty magicians the truth about magic. How many answers do you get?"

"At least twenty."

"I could tell you a lot of things, if I could remember, but what would it mean? What things mean to you is what counts. What are your answers? What do they say about you? Where do they lead you? What kind of shaman does that make you? Things like that. How do you like my answer so far?"

"I'm not sure."

"That's probably good. I'm an old man. I've had time to work things out. You're still pretty young. You should have questions. Things you're not sure about. I've made my peace with mother planet. You haven't. Maybe you haven't even started yet."

"I don't know what you mean."

The Old Man frowned. "Maybe you've been spending too much time in the city. I guess you haven't paid much attention. That's understandable. It can be hard to think in the city. What I mean is the planet's our mother. It's simple enough. You understand. You just haven't thought about it much. Everything comes from the Earth. Without her we're just so many unlikely ideas floating around in empty space. Without the Earth, we're all dead."

"Maybe I should attune myself with the Earth. With nature."

"You tell me. You're a shaman. You've attuned yourself with spell foci so you could do better magic.

What about nature? What about the Earth?"

"How do I do this?"

"You're a shaman. You tell me."

"Maybe I should go to the wilderness."

"If you think so. The wilderness is part of the Earth. I don't think anybody can argue that." The Old Man paused, then said, "Maybe I'm not being clear. All I'm saying is that maybe you know the city so well that you've forgotten something. Something important."

Bandit considered. "The city is part of nature, too."

"I don't think anybody can argue that."

"Is, that what you meant to tell me?"

"I guess that's part of it."

"What am I missing?"

"What good would it do to tell you what I think? I could be wrong. If I said the wrong thing, or if you took it wrong, you might waste a lot of time chasing after bad ideas. Why should I have that on my conscience? You're the one asking all the questions. You think you're missing something. What do you think you're missing?"

"It could be anything."

"You're right. If that's what you think. Maybe that's your answer. Me, I'm thinking of something specific. I'll give you a hint. You decide if it means anything."

"Okay."

"What's in the city?"

"People."

"What about them?"

Bandit frowned and exhaled heavily, and looked at his flute. The flute gave him his answer. It forced him to see it. "People are part of nature, too."

"I don't think anybody can argue that."

"Maybe I've been around so many people for so long I forgot about that. There's a lot of people in the city. It's easy to tune them out. Maybe I wanted to tune them out. Maybe I had to tune them out to concentrate on the magic. To learn. To grow."

"Maybe that's your answer."

"Maybe I should tune people in."

"It's an idea," the Old Man agreed. "The one thing I'm sure about is that people are part of the world just like every other living thing. I don't see how you can be in tune with nature without being in tune with people too. It's okay to go to the wilderness. Go wherever you want. Nature is everywhere. It infuses everything, surrounds everything. Just don't forget about people. You know what I mean. It's obvious."

Bandit nodded.

"If you want to know nature, you have to experience nature, not just the parts of the world you like.

You have to hear the cry of the hawk as it dives down to kill a mouse. You have to hear the roar of the tigress when one of her cubs comes up missing. You have to listen to the murmuring of the mountain stream, the hiss of the snake, the death-cry of the prairie dog, the croaking of the frog, the rustle of leaves, the whisper of the wind. You have to hear the voice of the Earth, no matter what form it takes.

Maybe every form it takes. And I guess you have to listen to people, too. They're part of the Earth."

Bandit nodded. "You're right."

"I'm an old man. I just listen to things you say and tell you my opinion, I could be all wrong. What you think is what matters."

"I think I must attune myself to people."

"Then that's your answer."

An answer, yes, but not the whole answer. Bandit thought about that a while, then said, "I wish I could have done more. I wish ... I wish I could have helped my friends."

"Your friends the runners."

Bandit nodded.

"Sometimes you don't know you've got friends till they're gone."

"I'm not sure what's happened to them."

A long silence passed, then the Old Man said, "Sometimes people get a bad hand. Sometimes the odds are too great. You did what you could. When the time came, you saved yourself. Probably that's all you could have done. Maybe that's all you should have done. The shaman's path can be hard to know. I guess you still have things to learn."

Bandit nodded.

"Maybe you just have to put this behind you."

"I feel ... regret. Maybe remorse."

The Old Man stretched out his arms and yawned. "Then you must be human. Every human being wishes that he or she could have done some things differently. It's like a law. Part of nature. Part of what you are. You try to learn from your mistakes. If you're smart, you'll do better next time."

Bandit nodded.

"I need some sleep."

"Will we talk again?"

"Sure. Just play that flute. I think you've been looking for it a long time. Maybe you didn't realize. Just play the song and I'll come. You know which song."

Bandit thought about that, then nodded.

"Just remember I sleep a lot. Old men get cranky when they miss their sleep. You understand."

"I guess."

"Remember this, too. The world wasn't built in a day. It took a long time to get this far and it still isn't finished. It never will be finished. When something's finished, it's dead. But even then, it isn't finished.

Nothing ever really is. Sometimes it just looks that way."

"Life is a journey. Not a series of destinations."

"There's your answer. See you later."

Bandit hesitated, gazing into the empty darkness at the rear of his lodge. Then he spoke softly, gently, saying, "Sleep well."