11

He trudged back to Del and half-fell, half-sat on the grass beside him. Del was wiping the blood away from his face with his sleeve. They had hit him in the face before deciding to kick him to death.

'How do you feel?' he asked.

Del's eyes swam up. The lids fluttered.

'Did they break anything?'

'I hurt all over.' Red froth appeared on Del's lips. He looked dully at Thorn's body; at Snail's, facedown, closer to the house. Thorn was muttering something.

'What did they do to you?' Del said. 'Did they beat you up too?'

'Sort of,' Tom said.

The sky shook: after the thunder, an ice-blue fountain shimmered in the air…

'They're coming back!' Del shrieked.

'No,' Tom said. 'We're through with them.'

'Oh.' Del closed his eyes and put his head down on the grass.

'Can you move?'

'I want to go home.'

'Who doesn't?'

The lights in the forest flicked on; the house blazed. Tom could see the red smears on the window wall. Then he heard a car starting, heard the tires whisper on the drive. Could Collins have given up so easily?

Thorn's breath rattled and chugged in his throat. Tom turned to him in horror. 'Ah,' Thorn said, and died. No white bird lifted from his chest, but Tom knew that he had seen his life go.

'Car… ' Del said. 'He left, Tom. He left! We can go - we can get out.'

'I don't think so. You see all those lights? The show changed theaters, that's all.'

'Oh, my God,' Del said. He was looking at Tom's hands. 'How did you…?'

'I was lucky,' Tom said. He looked up at the house. 'He's still there, Del. I think we really just started.'

'But we can't fight him.' Del shrank back into himself.

'We'll do whatever we have to.' It was not a strong statement, and Tom did not feel strong - he felt emptied of his resources, capable of doing nothing more than lying on the lawn and waiting in despair for Collins to produce his special effects.

Suddenly the sky was filled with fireworks, layer after layer of explosions in the night air. They would not have to wait long for the rest of it.