Midworld by Alan Dean Foster Read Free Book Online

noises. The demons of the Upper Hell could surely come down to this place through the hole the larger demon has made. We will discuss this matter further, but I say, quietly.” Conversation and argument continued, but in whispers. “Now then, Born,” continued Reader, “what makes you so certain this blue thing below us is not a demon, but an object made like the axe?”
    “It has the look of it,” Born replied. “Notice how regular are its outlines and the way it throws back the light.”
    “Might not a demon do this as well? Does not the skin of the orbiole throw back the light? Are you certain, Born?”
    Born found himself looking away. “There is no way to be sure, shaman, save,” and he stared across at the older man, “to go down to it and see for oneself.”
    “But if it is a demon?” Drawn wondered loudly, “and it sleeps, and our pokings awaken it?” The hunter rose from his squatting position, holding his snuffler firmly. “No, friend Born. I respect your guessings and honor your skill, but I will not go with you. I have a mate and two children and I’m not ready to go knocking on the skull of a demon to see if anyone is home. No, not I.” He paused, thinking. “But, I will consider what the shaman and my brothers say.”
    “What say the hunters, then?” asked Reader.
    The other twin spoke. “Truly, it may be as Born says. Be it only a made thing, with no life in it, then it seems to me no threat to the Home. Or it may be, as Drawn says, a sleeping demon waiting only for some careless person to stumble blindly in and waken it. If we leave it alone it may sleep forever, or go peacefully on its way. Myself, I think it is a demon of a new kind, one injured in its fall from the Upper Hell. We must leave and not disturb it, but let it die in peace, lest it arise in anger and destroy us.”
    Tailing and Talltree rose together and offered further opinions. Sometimes one of the twins would begin a sentence and the other would finish it. They did this without looking at one another, which was not surprising, for in the forest does one branch of a tree have to consult with another before putting out leaves? Some thought the twins were more of the forest than of Man.
    “Whatever it is, shaman,” Talltree concluded, “it seems we have nothing to lose by leaving it undisturbed and everything to gain by returning Home quietly the way we came.”
    “Don’t you care about it at all?” Born asked openly. “Aren’t you at all curious? Do you not care if it is a benign demon?”
    “I’ve never heard of a helpful demon and I care only about surviving,” Drawn responded. The others listened attentively. After Born, Drawn was the most skillful hunter in the village. “As it lies”—he nodded toward the world-well—“it threatens us not, nor the Home. I do not see a close inspection improving that. I vote to return Home.”
    “I also … and I … and I …”
    The word passed around the little circle of persons in the trees, and it was all against Born. Always against Born, he thought, furious.
    “Go back, then,” he shouted disgustedly, moving from the circle to a higher branch. “I’ll go down alone.”
    The other hunters muttered. Reader and Drawn, the eldest among them, looked sympathetic, but they agreed that Born had not yet acquired caution to match his other abilities. The village would miss him if he failed to return. If he would go, then let him go, but do not match madness with him.
    So Born crouched alone on his higher limb and pouted while his companions made themselves ready. Their furcots fanning out around them, they started down the cubble toward the Home.
    Despite his feelings, he was half tempted to join them and try further talk. Only Losting’s barely veiled grin steeled him. Nothing would please that overripe pium fruit more than to see Born vanish forever, leaving him a clear path to Brightly Go. But Born would not vanish so conveniently. He would learn the truth of the