Американские боги
Shewouldhavescreamedifshecould;butthenthedustyfloorboardscameuptomeethersofastandsohardthat,hadshebeenbreathing,theywouldhaveknockedthebreathfromherbody.
Timerushedoverherandintoher,swirlinglikeadust-devil.Athousandmemoriesbegantoplayatonce:shewaswetandstinkingonthefloorofthefarmhouse;andshewaslostinadepartmentstoretheweekbeforeChristmasandherfatherwasnowheretobeseen;andnowshewassittinginthebaratChi-Chi’s,orderingastrawberrydaiquiriandcheckingoutherblinddate,thebig,graveman-child,andwonderinghowhekissed;andshewasinthecaras,sickeningly,itrolledandjolted,andRobbiewasscreamingatheruntilthemetalpostfinallystoppedthecar,butnotitscontents,frommoving…
Thewateroftime,whichcomesfromthespringoffate,Urd’sWell,isnotthewateroflife.Notquite.Itfeedstherootsoftheworldtree,though.Andthereisnootherwaterlikeit.
WhenLaurawokeintheemptyfarmhouseroom,shewasshivering,andherbreathactuallysteamedinthemorningair.Therewasascrapeonthebackofherhand,andawetsmearonthescrape,thered-orangeoffreshblood.
Andsheknewwhereshehadtogo.Shehaddrunkfromthewateroftime,whichcomesfromthespringoffate.Shecouldseethemountaininhermind.Shelickedthebloodfromthebackofherhand,marvelingatthefilmofsaliva,andshebegantowalk.