of the pursuers continued (had drawn a bit closer, in fact), but for the time being he ignored them, as well.
Grass, growing out of the tiled wall.
Overwhelming the wall.
He looked down and saw more grass, a brilliant green that was almost purple beneath the fluorescent lights, growing out of the floor. And bits of broken tile crumbling into shards and fragments like remains of the old people, the ancestors who had lived and built before the Beams began to break and the world began to move on.
He bent down. Reached into the grass. Brought up sharp shards of tile, yes, but also earth, the earth of
(the jungle)
some deep catacomb or tomb or perhaps-
There was a beetle crawling through the dirt he'd scooped up, a beetle with a red mark on its back like a bloody smile, and Jake cast it away with a cry of disgust. Mark of the King! Say true!
He came back to himself and realized that he was down on one knee, practicing at archaeology like the hero in some old movie while the hounds drew closer on his trail. And Oy was looking at him, eyes shining with anxiety.
"Ake! Ake-Ake!"
"Yeah," he said, heaving himself to his feet. "I'm coming.
But Oy... what is this place?"
Oy had no idea why he heard anxiety in his ka-dinh's voice; what he saw was the same as before and what he smelled was the same as before: her smell, the scent the boy had asked him to find and follow. And it was fresher now. He ran on along its bright brand.
FOUR
Jake stopped again five minutes later, shouting, "Oy! Wait up a minute!"
The stitch in his side was back, and it was deeper, but it still wasn't the stitch that had stopped him. Everythinghad changed.
Or was changing. And God help him, he thought he knew what it was changing into.
Above him the fluorescent lights still shone down, but the tile walls were shaggy with greenery. The air had become damp and humid, soaking his shirt and sticking it against his body. A beautiful orange butterfly of startling size flew past his wide eyes. Jake snatched at it but the butterfly eluded him easily.
Almost merrily, he thought.
The tiled corridor had become a jungle path. Ahead of them, it sloped up to a ragged hole in die overgrowth, probably some sort of forest clearing. Beyond it Jake could see great old trees growing in a mist, their trunks thick with moss, their branches looped with vines. He could see giant spreading ferns, and through the green lace of the leaves, a burning jungle sky. He knew he was under New York, must be under New York, but-
What sounded like a monkey chittered, so close by that Jake flinched and looked up, sure he would see it directly overhead, grinning down from behind a bank of lights. And then, freezing his blood, came the heavy roar of a lion. One that was most definitely not asleep.
He was on the verge of retreating, and at full speed, when he realized he could not; the low men (probably led by the one who'd told him the faddah was dinnah) were back that way.
And Oy was looking at him with bright-eyed impatience, clearly wanting to go on. Oy was no dummy, but he showed no signs of alarm, at least not concerning what was ahead.
For his own part, Oy still couldn't understand the boy's problem. He knew the boy was tired-he could smell that-but he also knew Ake was afraid. Why? There were unpleasant smells in this place, the smell of many men chief among them, but they did not strike Oy as immediately dangerous. And besides, her smell was here. Very fresh now. Almost new.
"Ake!" he yapped again.
Jake had his breath now. "All right," he said, looking around. "Okay. But slow."
"Lo," Oy said, but even Jake could detect the stunning lack of approval in the bumbler's response.
Jake moved only because he had no other options. He walked up the slope of the overgrown trail (in Oy's perception the way was perfecdy straight, and had been ever since leaving the stairs) toward the vine- and fern-fringed opening, toward lunatic chitter of the monkey and the testicle-freezing roar of the hunting lion. The song circled through his mind again and again
(in the village... in the jungle... hush my darling, don't stir my darling...)
and now he knew the name of it, even the name of the group
(that's the Tokens with "The Lion Sleeps Tonight, "gone from the charts but