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CHAPTER 1
DEUCALION SELDOM SLEPT, but when he did, he dreahtened hihthened by a life of terror
During the afternoon, napping in his sieon opened his abdo ical table, Deucalion could only endure the procedure
After he had been sewn shut, he felt soh curious, exploring
Froer approaches Life changes with a letter"
He woke from the dream and knew that it had been prophetic He possessed no psychic power of a classic nature, but sometimes omens came in his sleep
IN THESE MOUNTAINS OF TIBET, a fiery sunset conjured a laciers and the snowfields A serrated blade of Himalayan peaks, with Everest at its hilt, cut the sky
Far from civilization, this vast panorama soothed Deucalion For several years, he had preferred to avoid people, except for Buddhist monks in this ept rooftop of the world
Although he had not killed for a long time, he still harbored the capacity for hoes, sought calm, and hoped to find true peace
Froazed at the sun-splashed ice pack, he considered, not for the first time, that these two elements, fire and ice, defined his life
At his side, an elderlyat the mountains--or beyond theh Deucalion had learned to speak several Tibetan dialects during his lengthy sojourn here,
he and the old lish, for it afforded them privacy
"I don’t miss much of that world The sea The sound of shore birds A few friends Cheez-Its"
"Cheeses? We have cheese here"
Deucalion smiled and pronounced the word more clearly than he’d done previously "Cheez-Its are cheddar-flavored crackers Here in this , purposeGod Yet often the hus of daily life, the small pleasures, seem to define existence for me I’ his wool robe closer about himself as wintry breezes bit, Nebo said, "To the contrary Never have I had one less shallow than you Just hearing about Cheez-Its, I ued"
A voluminous wool robe covered Deucalion’s scarred patchwork body, though even the harshest cold rarely bothered him
The mandala-shaped Rombuktowers, and graceful roofs--clung precariously to a barren , majestic, hidden from the world Waterfalls of steps spilled down the sides of the square towers, to the base of theaccess to interior courtyards
Brilliant yellohite, red, green, and blue prayer flags, representing the elements, flapped in the breeze Carefully written sutras adorned the flags, so that each time the fabric waved in the wind, a prayer was symbolically sent in the direction of Heaven
Despite Deucalion’s size and strange appearance, theand filtered it through his singular experience In ti his unique perspective
They didn’t knoho he was, but they understood intuitively that he was no nor ti Nebo waited beside hi in the clockless world of the monks, and after two hundred years of life, with perhaps more than that ahead of him, Deucalion often lived with no awareness of time
Prayer wheels clicked, stirred by breezes In a call to sunset prayer, oneon a shell truan to resonate through the cold stone
Deucalion stared down into the canyons full of purple twilight, east of the ht fall more than a thousand feet to the rocks
Out of that gloaer," he said "The surgeon in the dream spoke truth"
The old monk could not at first see the visitor
His eyes, the color of vinegar, seemed to have been faded by the unfiltered sun of extreates"
salaht crawled the iron-bound bea brick walls
Just inside the gates, standing in the open-air outer ward, the arded Deucalion with awe "Yeti," he whispered, which was the name that the Sherpas had coined for the abo him on plumes of frosted breath, Nebo said, "Is it custoe with a rude re once been pursued like a beast, having lived two hundred years as the ultiainst alloffense
"Were I a yeti," he said, speaking in the ht be as tall as this" He stood six feet six "I ht be muscled this solidly But I would be much hairier, don’t you think?"
"I… I suppose so"
‘A yeti never shaves" Leaning close, as if i a secret, Deucalion said, "Under all that hair, a yeti has very sensitive skin Pink, softquick to take a rash froer asked, "Then what are you?"
"Big Foot," Deucalion said in English, and Nebo laughed, but the er did not understand
Made nervous by thenot only because of the icy air, the young htly with a leather thong "Here Inside For you"
Deucalion curled one powerful finger around the leather thong, snapped it, and unfolded the goatskin wrapping to reveal an envelope inside, a wrinkled and stained letter long in transit
The return address was in New Orleans The name was that of an old and trusted friend, Ben Jonas
Still glancing surreptitiously and nervously at the ravaged half of Deucalion’s face, the er evidently decided that the company of a yeti would be preferable to a return trip in darkness through the bitter-cold ht?"
"Anyone who coates," Nebo assured hiive you Cheez-Its"
Froh the inner gate Two young monks with lanterns arrived as if in answer to a telepathic suuest quarters
In the candlelit reception hall, in an alcove that smelled of sandalwood and incense, Deucalion read the letter Ben’s handwritten words conveyed a e in neatly penned blue ink
With the letter ca from a newspaper, the New Orleans Times-Picayune The headline and the text raph that accohten hio ceased to fear anyers
"Bad news?" asked Nebo "Has someone died?"
"Worse Someone is still alive" Deucalion stared in disbelief at the photograph, which felt colder than ice "I must leave Rombuk"
This statement clearly saddened Nebo "I had taken comfort for some time that you would be the one to say the prayers at my death"
"You’re too full of piss to die anytiar Besides, I am perhaps the last one on Earth to whom God would listen"
"Or perhaps the first," said Nebo with an enigain in the world beyond these ift"
LIKE waxy STALAGMITES, yellow candles rose fro the walls were painted ns enclosed in a circle, representing the cos in a chair padded with thin red silk cushions, Deucalion stared at a ceiling of carved and painted lotus blosso over hi his face with the attention of a scholar deciphering intricate sutra scrolls