"Well. Since you put it that way." Faking bravery, I headed upstream.

They would have herded me. Best accept the inevitable. Less humiliation.

The wind was bitter around the barren, but when I crossed the boundary it was like stepping into summer. No wind at all, though the old tree was tinkling. And heat like a furnace.

The moon had risen enough to flood the barren with light now argent. I approached the tree. My gaze fixed on that hand and forearm, still protruding, still gripping a root, still, it seemed, betraying the occasional feeble twitch. The root had grown, though, and seemed to be enveloping the hand, as a tree used for a line post will envelope a wire tacked to it. I stopped five feet from the tree.

"Come closer," it said. In plain voice. In conversational tone and volume.

I said, "Yipe!" and looked for the exits.

About two skillion menhirs surrounded the barren. So much for running away.

"Stand still, ephemeral."

My feet froze to the ground. Ephemeral, eh?

"You asked help. You demanded help. You whined and pleaded and begged for help. Stand still and accept it. Come closer."

"Make up your mind." I took two steps. Another would have me climbing him.

"I have considered. This thing you ephemera fear, in the ground so far from here, would be a peril to my creatures if it rose. I sense no significant strength in those who resist it. Therefore…"

I hated to interrupt, but I just had to scream. You see, something had me by the ankle. It was squeezing so hard I felt the bones grinding. Crushing. Sorry about that, old-timer.

The universe turned blue. I rolled in a hurricane of anger. Lightning roared in Father Tree's branches. Thunder rolled across the desert. I yelled some more.

Bolts of blue hammered around me, crisping me almost as much as my tormentor. But, at last, the hand turned me loose.

I tried to run away.

One step and down I went. I kept on, crawling, while Father Tree apologized and tried to call me back.

Like Hell. I would crawl through the menhirs if I had to…

My mind filled with a waking dream. Father Tree delivering a message direct. Then the earth got quiet, except for the wish as menhirs vanished.

Big hoopla from the direction of the Hole. A whole gang charged out to find the cause of the uproar. Silent reached me first. "One-Eye," I said. "I need One-Eye." He is the only one beside me with medical training. And contrary though he is, I could count on him to take medical instructions.

One-Eye showed up in a moment, along with twenty others. The watch had reacted quickly. "Ankle," I told him. "Maybe crushed. Somebody get some light up here. And a damned shovel."

"A shovel? Are you off your gourd?" One-Eye demanded.

"Just get it. And do something for the pain."

Elmo materialized, still buckling buckles. "What happened, Croaker?"