On the Island: Ceremony and Escape

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The sound of thunder rumbles through the air, heralding an approaching storm--

--no, wait.

That's not thunder; that's the beating of drums.

It's a beautiful clear day on the island, just perfect for a ceremony and celebration, as the tribe prepares to send their chief to the gods.

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The tribe's shouts falter and die down, gradually, as the ship pulls away with their chief. The feast is ready, the pyre is waiting -- but he never so much as looks back.

Well, crap, seems to be the general mood.

Which is about when the dog's constant barking penetrates, and -- one by one -- the crowd turns to look at him.

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The dog looks back.

There's a very large group of people. All staring at him.

And they don't much look like the jailors and seamen and British officials he's used to, either. Nor smell like them.

And they're still all staring.

The dog whines, backing up a step to paw uncertainly at the sand. Another moment, and then he whirls, dashing away down the beach.

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The natives -- particularly the shaman, and those warriors who have been honored enough to learn some of his secret teachings -- trade looks.



There are signs that distinguish a god trapped in mortal form. Some of them are obvious even to the untutored, and some aren't. But they all come down to this: a god is too big, too powerful, too other to fit inside a mortal body. The human (or animal) mind can't contain it, not wholly. There are signs.

Madmen are often possessed by gods, the shaman knows. It's one of the clearest signs there is.

Animals acting like no normal animal has ever acted. That's another sign.

And no normal dog carries a great iron ring in his mouth, as if the metal were food to him. He did let it drop to the sand when he started barking, yes, and it's still lying there while the dog scampers away down the beach, but all the same they half-noticed him carrying the thing earlier. That's as sure a sign as the old chief's babbling and swaying and irrationality and his magical metal teeth. A god inside a dog isn't as powerful as one inside a resourceful madman, usually, but... well, the resourceful madman is gone, and the god he carries inside is gone with him. But maybe he left this one to take his place. That's the only logical reason for the coincidence of this dog turning up just as the chief flees.



"Pe-la-la!" the shaman screams, gesturing at the dog. Yelling, the tribe gives chase.