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ace to protect it from splinters。 The martel de fer was withdrawn。 There was another brief pause； almost long enough for Jack to think about running again。 Then the spiked fist tore through again。 It twisted first one way and then the other； widening the hole； then withdrew。 A second later the hammer slammed through the middle of a reed…bed and a large chunk of the right…hand door fell to the carpet。
Jack could now see the hulking armored figure in the shadows of the Heron Bar。 The armor was not the same as that worn by the figure confronting Jason in the black castle； that one wore a helmet which was nearly cylindrical； with a red plume。 This one wore a helmet that looked like the polished head of a steel bird。 Horns rose from either side； sprouting from the helmet at roughly ear level。 Jack saw a breastplate； a kilt of plate…mail； a hemming of chain…mail below that。 The hammer was the same in both worlds； and in both worlds the knight…Twinners dropped them at the same instant； as if in contempt…who would need a battle…hammer to deal with such a puny opponent as this？
Run！ Jack； run！
That's right； the hotel whispered。 Run！ That's what fushing feeves are supposed to do！ Run！ RUN！
But he would not run。 He might die； but he would not run…because that sly； whispering voice was right。 Running was exactly what fushing feeves did。
But I'm no thief； Jack thought grimly。 That thing may kill me； but I won't run。 Because I'm no thief。
'I won't run！' Jack shouted at the blank； polished…steel bird…face。 'I'm no thief！ Do you hear me？ I've e for what's mine and I'M NO THIEF！'
A groaning scream came from the breathing…holes at the bottom of the bird…helmet。 The knight raised its spiked fists and brought them down； one on the sagging left door； one on the sagging right。 The pastoral marsh…world painted there was destroyed。 The hinges snapped 。 。 。 and as the doors fell toward him； Jack actually saw the one painted heron who remained go flying away like a bird in a Walt Disney cartoon； its eyes bright and terrified。
The suit of armor came toward him like a killer robot； its feet rising and then crashing down。 It was more than seven feet tall； and when it came through the door the horns rising from its helmet tore a set of ragged slashes into the upper jamb。 They looked like quotation marks。
Run！ a yammering voice in his mind screamed。
Run； you feef； the hotel whispered。
No； Jack answered。 He stared up at the advancing knight； and his hand wrapped itself tightly around the guitar…pick in his pocket。 The spike…studded gauntlets came up toward the visor of its bird…helmet。 They raised it。 Jack gaped。
The inside of the helmet was empty。
Then those studded hands were reaching for Jack。
8
The spike…studded hands came up and grasped either side of the cylindrical helmet。 They lifted it slowly off； disclosing the livid； haggard face of a man who looked at least three hundred years old。 One side of this ancient's head had been bashed in。 Splinters of bone like broken eggshell poked out through the skin； and the wound was caked with some black goop which Jason supposed was decayed brains。 It was not breathing； but the red…rimmed eyes which regarded Jason were sparkling and hellishly avid。 It grinned； and Jason saw the needle…sharp teeth with which this horror would rip him to pieces。
It clanked unsteadily forward 。 。 。 but that wasn't the only sound。
He looked to his left； toward the main hall。
（lobby）
of the castle
（hotel）
and saw a second knight； this one wearing the shallow； bowl…shaped head…guard known as the Great Helm。 Behind it were a third 。 。 。 and a fourth。 They came slowly down the corridor； moving suits of ancient armor which now housed vampires of some sort。
Then the hands seized him by the shoulders。 The blunt spikes on the gloves slid into his shoulders and arms。 Warm blood flowed and the livid； wrinkled face drew into a horrid hungry grin。 The cubitieres at the elbows screeched and wailed as the dead knight drew the boy toward itself。
9
Jack howled with the pain…the short blunt…tipped spikes on its hands were in him； in him； and he understood once and for all that this was real； and in another moment this thing was going to kill him。
He was yanked toward the yawning； empty blackness inside that helmet…
But was it really empty？
Jack caught a blurred； faded impression of a double red glow in the darkness 。 。 。 something like eyes。 And as the armored hands drew him up and up； he felt freezing cold； as if all the winters that ever were had somehow bined； had somehow bee one winter 。 。 。 and that river of frigid air was now pouring out of that empty helmet。
It's really going to kill me and my mother will die； Richard will die； Sloat will win； going to kill me； going to
（tear me apart rip me open with its teeth）
freeze me solid…
JACK！ Speedy's voice cried。
（JASON！ Parkus's voice cried。）
The pick； boy！ Use the pick！ Before it's too late！ FOR JA…SON'S SAKE USE THE PICK BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE！
Jack's hand closed around it。 It was as hot as the coin had been； and the numbing cold was replaced with a sudden sense of brain…busting triumph。 He brought it out of his pocket； crying out in pain as his punctured muscles flexed against the spikes driven into him； but not losing that sense of triumph…that lovely sensation of Territories heat； that clear feeling of rainbow。
The pick； for it was a pick again； was in his fingers； a strong and heavy triangle of ivory； filigreed and inlaid with strange designs…and in that moment Jack
（and Jason）
saw those designs e together in a face…the face of Laura DeLoessian。
（the face of Lily Cavanaugh Sawyer。）
10
'In her name； you filthy； aborted thing！' they shouted together…but it was one shout only： the shout of that single nature； Jack/Jason。 'Get you off the skin of this world！ In the name of the Queen and in the name of her son； get you off the skin of this world！'
Jason brought the guitar…pick down into the white； scrawny face of the old vampire…thing in the suit of armor； at the same instant he sideslipped without blinking into Jack and saw the pick whistle down into a freezing black emptiness。 There was another moment as Jason when he saw the vampire…thing's red eyes bulge outward in disbelief as the tip of the pick plunged into the center of its deeply wrinkled forehead。 A moment later the eyes themselves； already filming over； exploded； and a black； steaming inchor ran over his hand and wrist。 It was full of tiny biting worms。
11
Jack was flung against the wall。 He hit his head。 In spite of that and of the deep； throbbing pain in his shoulders and upper arms； he held on to the pick。
The suit of armor was rattling like a scarecrow made out of tin cans。 Jack had time to see it was swelling somehow； and he threw a hand up to shield his eyes。
The suit of armor self…destructed。 It did not spray shrapnel everywhere； but simply fell apart…Jack thought if he had seen it in a movie instead of as he saw it now； huddled in a lower hallway of this stinking hotel with blood trickling into his armpits； he would have laughed。 The polished…steel helmet； so like the face of a bird； fell onto the floor with a muf…fled thump。 The curved gorget； meant to keep the knight's enemy from running a blade or a spear…point through the knight's throat； fell directly inside it with a jingle of tightly meshed rings of mail。 The cuirasses fell like curved steel bookends。 The greaves split apart。 Metal rained down on the mouldy carpet for two seconds； and then there was only a pile of something that looked like scrap…heap leftovers。
Jack pushed himself up the wall； staring with wide eyes as if he expected the suit of armor to suddenly fly back together。 In fact； he really did expect something like that。 But when nothing happened he turned left； toward the lobby 。 。 。 and saw three more suits of armor moving slowly toward him。 One held a cheesy； mould…caked banner； and on it was a symbol Jack recognized： he had seen it fluttering from guidons held by Morgan of Orris's soldiers as they escorted Morgan's black diligence down the Outpost Road and toward Queen Laura's pavillion。 Morgan's sign…but these were not Morgan's creatures； he understood dimly； they carried his banner as a kind of morbid joke on this frightened interloper who presumed to steal away their only reason for being。
'No more；' Jack whispered hoarsely。 The pick trembled between his fingers。 Something had happened to it； it had been damaged somehow when he used it to destroy the suit of armor which had e from the Heron Bar。 The ivory； formerly the color of fresh cream； had yellowed noticeably。 Fine cracks now crisscrossed it。
The suits of armor clanked steadily toward him。 One slowly drew a long sword which ended in a cruel…looking double point。
'No more；' Jack moaned。 'Oh God please； no more； I'm tired； I can't； please； no more； no more…'
Travellin Jack； ole Travellin Jack…
'Speedy； I can't！' he screamed。 Tears cut through the dirt on his face。 The suits of armor approached with all the inevitability of steel auto parts on an assembly line。 He heard an Arctic wind whistling inside their cold black spaces。
…you be here in California to bring her back。
'Please； Speedy； no more！'
Reaching for him…black…metal robot…faces； rusty greaves； mail splotched and smeared with moss and mould。
Got to do your best； Travellin Jack； Speedy whispered； exhausted； and then he was gone and Jack was left to stand or fall on his own。
CHAPTER 42
Jack and the Talisman
1
You made a mistake…a ghostly voice in Jack Sawyer's head spoke up as he stood outside the Heron Bar and watched these other suits of armor bear down on him。 In his mind an eye opened wide and he saw an angry man…a man who was really not much more than an overgrown boy…striding up a Western street toward the camera； buckling on first one gun…belt and then another； so that they crisscrossed his belly。 You made a mistake…you shoulda killed both of the Ellis brothers！
2
Of all his mother's movies； the one Jack had always liked the best was Last Train to Hangtown； made in 1960 and released in 1961。 It had been a Warner Brothers picture； and the major parts…as in many of the lower…budget pictures Warners made during that period…were filled by actors from the half…dozen Warner Brothers TV series which were in constant production。 Jack Kelly from the Maverick show had been in Last Train （the Suave Gambler）； and Andrew Duggan from Bour…bon Street Beat （the Evil Cattle…Baron）。 Clint Walker； who played a character called Cheyenne Bodie on TV； starred as Rafe Ellis （the Retired Sheriff Who Must Strap on His Guns One Last Time）。 Inger Stevens had been originally slated to play the part of the Dance Hall Girl with Willing Arms and a Heart of Gold； but Miss Stevens had e down with a bad case of bronchitis and Lily Cavanaugh had stepped into the part。 It was of a sort she could have done petently in a a。 Once； when his parents thought he was asleep and were talking in the living room downstairs； Jack overheard his mother say something striking as he padded barefoot to the bathroom to get a glass of water 。 。 。 it was striking enough； at any rate； so that Jack never forgot it。 'All the women I played knew how to fuck； but not one of them knew how to fart；' she told Phil。
Will Hutchins； who starred in another Warner Brothers program （this one was called Sugarfoot）； had also been in the film。 Last Train to Hangtown was Jack's favorite chiefly because of the character Hutchins played。 It was this character…Andy Ellis； by name…who came to his tired； tottering； overtaxed mind now as he watched the suits of armor marching down the dark hallway toward him。
Andy Ellis had been the Cowardly Kid Brother Who Gets Mad in the Last Reel。 After skulking and cowering through the entire movie； he had gone out to face Duggan's evil minions after the Chief Minion （played by sinister； stubbly； wall…eyed Jack Elam； who played Chief Minions in all sorts of Warner epics； both theatrical and televisional） had shot his brother Rafe in