A chapter from Eddie’s perspective about their stay in AllPeopleTown and the disillusion of the main party has been omitted. T.T. and Carl remain at the town. Bruco, Angh and Maria egressed to the Advance Timeframe, or the early 21st Century.

After these warnings DeathSong’s demeanor darkened; he brooded, looked far off toward their destination and tested the air with flaring nostrils. He now commanded Eddie cruelly and made the man paddle hard. They were attempting to make the Three Islands before nightfall in order to have their last night camp on those secluded banks. However, Eddie had much trouble keeping pace and his hands began to bleed. DeathSong snarled in his chest when night fell before they saw the islands.

As the river bent gently towards summer-by-sunset again they saw lights in the night in the center of the river. Soon the trees of the largest island were looming above them and they sat silent listening and counting the fires. There were three fires placed close together on the winter side of the island. The man guided them to shore on the summer side and dragged the nose of the canoe onto the bank and then left them sitting in the dark. The moon was not yet above the horizon when he left.

Eddie and MoonBeaver are shaking with fear.

Mister Hicks then mounted his shoulder and clucked nervously, “”Ey boy, what is da matter wit yo crazy skinhead friend? He tryin’ ta ged us kilt er what?”

“Oh Mister Hicks, he is simply scouting. He will return before the moon rises.”

No sooner did he utter those words to his totem then the canoe moved, a shadow loomed close, and they were pushed out into the current. A paddle dipped ahead and then the back of the man’s bald head was slightly illuminated by the rising moon. His voice came in a liquid whisper, “Dere nineteen bucks in three real big canoes. Ya’ll keep silent. We canoein’ through da night. Eddie, jus use yer paddle ta steer. Keep us center stream.”

He had forgotten how grueling a canoe-journey could be. Just before daybreak and just before dusk of each day, DeathSong permitted them to beach and take care of their personal needs. They canoed all through the night and the day, with the warrior napping during the day as they coasted. He did not think that there was enough cover without leaves on the trees to camp close to the water without being seen. The canoe and supplies he judged too heavy for them to haul up onto high ground so he preferred to stay in the river.

They felt naked and exposed during the day, keeping to the swiftest current whether it took them near the bank or in the center of the stream. Eddie was suffering in silence; afraid to seem weak and afraid to be heard by enemies. Eddie only permitted himself one joke. “Hey Jay-Bone, if we see a canoe load of hyenas paddlin’ after our asses, please, shoot my ass first okay my man?”

DeathSong remained silent, focused on nothing but the river and the bank. Over the next three days and nights they passed five major rivers, two of which had camps at their mouths. The first camp they passed at night. The second camp they passed during the day. This camp was occupied by only two warriors and about ten families. There was but one small canoe, and the men did not launch it. The people ashore seemed silently hostile, neither making an attempt to parley or attack, just standing and watching them glide by.

He-Who-Makes-Rivers please deliver us safely to your greatest creation. We make this journey in your honor and do ask protection.

At the end of the fourth day they passed the mouth of another river just as its people were hauling up their canoes. These people were living on the summer side of the river and had many swift looking canoes. Four warriors pushed out into the river in one long well-shaped canoe and paddled hard to overtake them. Eddie was fading fast and, to their astonishment, DeathSong stopped paddling and motioned for the boys to crowd into the front of the canoe while he stood in the center. The man sounded like a soulless male version of the GPS ghosts that possess the thunderbeasts of Sunset, “Eddie, paddle fer da north bank. Don’ cut ‘cross da current, just edge us away from da village as we go downstream.”

The man then strung the heavy bow that Feather-Stone of Three-Rivers’-Town had made for him, a bow so powerful that only Bruco and DeathSong had been able to draw it. When the man strung this bow it sounded like a tree bending in the wind. He waited patiently as the young warriors closed in, with four paddles furiously dipping. When they were nearly within a bowshot the warriors let out a whoop and redoubled their efforts in the fading light. DeathSong knocked an arrow and slowly drew the bow, sounding like the creaking of a hammock on a Spanish canoe-house during a gale. He also drew a deep breath and relaxed, seemingly going to sleep. When he loosed the arrow it arced out and made a low squishing thud in the distance as it stuck in the forehead of the lead warrior.

Three-Rivers turned within, nursing a sadness as his infamous flesh-demon turned the canoe behind them into a floating grave as effortlessly and unfeeling as a busy woman would husk an ear of corn. The night was filled with yelps of surprise then groans of despair.

Yes my son, you are back upon the River of War. Look to your powers against the failure of your overmatched demon.

The Beginner be with you Father…