He hadn’t shielded his thoughts carefully enough against their strong connection.
“Don’t worry, Cantor. I’m not going to be mushy. I tidily stored your act of callousness into a little mental box and refused to bring it out. Now that you’ve apologized, I can toss the box.”
They rode beside the river for a while, then crossed at a wide, shallow point Trout had described. The terrain on the far side was hilly and dotted with small clusters of trees.
A road of sorts cut through the foliage, leading away from the ford. Under the horses’ hooves, odd-shaped slabs of stone made a rough path. Chunks were missing. Dirt obscured some of the flat rocks. Grass and squatty shrubs forced their way up in the cracks.
As they approached the ruins, Cantor became uneasy. He sensed Bixby’s apprehension as well. When Dukmee and Neekoh stopped and dismounted, Cantor and Bixby followed suit without question.
Dukmee spoke quietly when he joined them. “We’ve got company.”
“Impossible!” exclaimed Neekoh in a voice too loud.
All three of his companions said, “Shhh!”
They all listened intently for a moment.
Bixby shook her head. “They didn’t hear us.” She looked at Neekoh. “There’s quite a few of them, and their activity is centered on the ruins.”
Neekoh whispered, “What are they doing?”
Dukmee patted Breez on her nose. “We’re going to find out. Neekoh, you stay with the horses. See if you can keep them from wandering off. We’ll sneak into the ruins and learn what our visitors are up to.”
Neekoh’s neck knob bobbed up and down. “You’re going to walk right in among them?”
Cantor nodded. “We’re trained for this sort of thing, Neekoh. Don’t worry, and keep your head down.”
The young man scrunched his head down and his shoulders up.
Bixby giggled. “It’s just an expression. It means don’t get caught.”
“Ah, I get it. I keep my head down behind something so they won’t see me.”
“That’s right.” Bixby had her hampers out and was looking through her different crowns.
Neekoh gasped. “You wear a crown?”
“All the time.”
His eyes darted to her hair.
She raked her fingers through the blonde tangle and pulled out a thin silver circlet adorned with tiny gold leaves.
Cantor suppressed a laugh. He imagined the young man was overwhelmed by all the things they revealed. No company for years, then suddenly a realm walker, a mage, a princess, and a dragon show up on his doorstep.
Neekoh’s eyes were twice as big as normal. “You’re a princess.”
“Well, yes, but these are utilitarian crowns.”
“Utila . . .?”
“Useful. They have attributes that help me as a realm walker.”
Neekoh collapsed to the ground, sitting with his legs crossed and astonishment on his face. “You’re a realm walker too! Bixby said so.”
Cantor took Neekoh’s arms and hauled him to his feet. “And Dukmee as well.”
The man’s muscles quaked under Cantor’s hands. “Neekoh, are you all right?”
“Just happy. Just happy. Nothing ever happens. For generations, nothing happens. Now. Everything! I am the Neekoh who gets to see it all. It could have been just nothing for me too. But no, I get to be here when you’re here.”
Cantor spoke calmly and quietly, hoping to settle Neekoh’s euphoria. “But if we don’t find Chomountain, the Neekoh destiny will not be fulfilled. Stay with the horses. Be quiet. Wait. Try to keep the horses here.”
“Yes, sir. I can do that.”
Cantor gently patted Neekoh’s thin arms before he let go. “Good. Good. You’ll do a good job.”
He looked up to see Bixby smirking. “What?”
“You’re being kind.”
“Stop it, Bix. We’ve got work to do.”
Dukmee had been standing, focused on what was farther down the shattered road. “There are thirty-three men at the ruins. Twenty-seven are laborers. Four are guards, providing a harsh incentive for the laborers to work. One is a realm walker. And one is from the Realm Walkers Guild. They have a portal open. I can’t tell to where from this distance. And they are looting the buildings. The councilman is under the mistaken impression that they have found the Library of Lyme.”
He faced Bixby and Cantor with raised eyebrows. “Shall we go take a look at what they are carting off?”
Eagerness to outwit the enemy coursed through Cantor’s veins. He and Bixby would slip in and out without causing a stir. Dukmee would probably stand close by and do his spying with his mental powers.
“Where’d she go?” asked Neekoh. His head swiveled as he tried to look everywhere.
“Bixby’s right here,” said Dukmee. He pointed, and Neekoh sighed his relief.
“I thought she’d gone.”
“She has on an obscuring crown. It helps her blend into her surroundings and confuses the minds of anyone around.”
“What about you?” Neekoh’s eyes took in Cantor’s huge form from the top of his head to his boat-sized boots. “Surely you’ll be seen.”
“I’ll tell you about it when we get back.”
The three finally got away from Neekoh and his questions. They crept up the hill and hid in a thickly wooded area. Within the confines of the forest, a strange and breathtaking plant grew. Each vine reached from the decayed vegetation on the floor to the lowest limbs of the tree and climbed out of sight into the canopy. The rope-like tendrils supported flowers the size of Cantor’s hand and in a variety of brilliant colors that had Bixby starry-eyed.
She touched one of the blooms tenderly. “I shall embroider this flowering vine on a piece of clothing. I wonder what it’s called.”
Dukmee pushed aside a curtain of foliage to pass through. “We’ll ask Trout when we return. I think we best hurry. I believe they are almost done with today’s work.”
When they reached the edge of the woods, they saw the trees had encroached upon the boundaries of the crumbling edifices. Bixby stepped right out of the forest and into one of the smaller buildings.
Cantor slipped around the side and stealthily made his way to a large structure. By hiding in the dark space between, he could watch the laborers come and go as they carried objects to the portal.
He spotted a large, shambling giant of a man and plucked him out of the line. With little effort and no noise, he simultaneously pinched the man’s nose and a nerve at the base of his skull. He then supported the man’s weight as he laid him on the ground. Taking his long tunic and headscarf, Cantor soon looked enough like the laborers to take a place in the procession. He matched the tired men’s shuffle and posture, resting his chin on his chest and allowing his shoulders to slump.
A guard stood at the door to the building they would enter. Hopefully, the guard had been on duty all day and was not as sharp as he would have been in the morning. Cantor passed the man without arousing even a second glance. Once inside, he stepped out of the line and crouched behind a broken half wall to wait for an opportunity to advance to another room, out of the path of laborers.
Moving swiftly and without a sound, Cantor darted to an open area to the side. In this tiny alcove, he found treasure. Books had been gathered from the shelves and piled on a table by one wall. A dirty cloth next to the tomes indicated an effort had been made to clear away some of the dust. Pulling out a hamper, he quickly filled it with the lot, then tucked the hamper away and started for the door.
Footsteps from the corridor interrupted his departure. He saw an open gap in the outside wall. At one time, the partially squared hole must have been a window. The sill crumbled at his touch, but he swung out just before two men entered the room. His position was not a good one. Anyone walking the shabby streets would see him, and shards of rock littered the ground beneath his feet. If he moved, the crunch would alert those inside to his presence. He stayed still.
An oath broke the s
ilence from within. “They’ve already taken this collection. I don’t remember authorizing the removal. Could it be one of the muscle-headed oafs took the initiative?”
Another voice sounded ill at ease. “I didn’t direct them here. It must have been one of the other guards. Do you know what time this happened?”
“No, and it doesn’t matter. I’m sick of this dusty place. We can go as soon as they empty the room they’re working on now.”
“Do you want them fed and watered before we return?”
“No, waste of time. What made you ask such a thing?”
“You mentioned dusty. They haven’t had a break all day. I’m sorry I mentioned it, Mr. Councilman. Just mindful that the jailer will want them returned in the same condition as they went out. He’ll charge more if he can’t work them tomorrow.”
The other man sputtered a bit. “Well, all right then. I don’t want the money to come out of my pocket. Water them. Dole out a portion of food and find some shade. Ten minutes out of the sun. Keep watch. If we don’t take the same number back as we brought, that will cost me even more dearly.” He paused as if thinking. “No, it won’t. It will cost you.”
The men walked away.
Cantor took the long way around to get back to the laborer he’d waylaid. The men had been gathered for their allotment of food and water and the ten-minute rest. The guards stood around with eyes trained on their charges. Cantor dressed the man with the clothes he’d borrowed, then propped him in the shade in clear view of the portal.
He thought for a moment about whether or not it was safe to mindspeak to Bixby. Their bond had strengthened, which meant less leakage to an outside listener. The realm walker at the portal put out a very discordant vibration, meaning he would be a poor receptor. He decided it wasn’t much of a risk.
“Bixby?”
“I’m done.”
“Meet you where we left Dukmee.”
“Give me five minutes. I found something interesting.”
A flash of exasperation accompanied his realization of what she was packing. “Pencils? Bixby, you don’t have to bring them.”
“Yes, I do. You’ll see why.”
“Put them in your deepest hamper so they won’t bother me.”
All he heard was her giggle in his mind.
WHAT DO WE KNOW?
Dukmee silently welcomed Cantor and Bixby back, and together the three of them moved farther from the ruins, walking all the way to where Neekoh kept the horses.
Neekoh jumped to his feet. “The horses are still here. All I had to do was talk to them. When I stopped talking, they started walking, so I have told them everything I know about Chomountain.”
Cantor blinked. Had he heard correctly? “That couldn’t have taken long, Neekoh. You’ve never even seen Chomountain.”
“But my family tells the tales of Cho. It is part of our destiny to keep alive what is known. When each son takes his father’s place, they go back to the village and become the historian. Only I will have no successor. But I’ll still get to tell the stories. My story will be last. The story of your breaking the ward and taking Cho back to the outside world.”
“There are a few problems with that story, Neekoh.”
“What?” The young man looked befuddled.
Cantor looked to Bixby and Dukmee for help, but neither offered to join the conversation. Dukmee looked so preoccupied, Cantor believed he must be thinking of something totally unrelated. Bixby’s face shone with anticipation, also unrelated to Neekoh’s naïve rendering of their actions. She had something to show them, and the something had to do with those pencils she had stowed away.
Cantor heaved a sigh. He didn’t bother to muffle it. He wanted the other two to know he was frustrated. “Neekoh, it’s true we broke the ward, but that’s all we’ve done. We haven’t found Chomountain, and we haven’t rescued him. We will leave here soon whether we find him or not, because the Lymen invasion is imminent, and we must stop it.”
Neekoh opened his mouth, obviously to pour out his opinion, but stopped when Dukmee put a hand on his arm. “Peace. You’ve done well with the horses. We’ll ride back to Trout’s in a minute. Right now, we three have to exchange information.”
Dukmee pinched his upper lip, shuddered, and set his face in a mask of solemnity. “These men were here under the orders of Errd Tos.”
Bixby gasped, and Cantor moved a step closer to her. The high councilman had almost uncovered Bixby’s spying two years ago, before the bombing. He’d left her brain and body frazzled. Dukmee had managed to save her life and her mind.
“Why?” asked Cantor. “And how did they know the ward was broken? Is it just a coincidence that they came at this time?”
“Hardly a coincidence. The realm walker with them had been monitoring the ward-protected portal. He knew it had opened as soon as you took the book off the shelf.”
“Do you think they have Cho?” Neekoh’s hands came together in a loud clap, and he proceeded to wring them until Cantor thought he’d pull his fingers off.
“No, I don’t.” Dukmee peered at Neekoh through slitted eyelids. “You swing to extremes, young man. Stick to the happy side of your pendulum. Optimism carries people much farther than pessimism. The worst thing that could happen rarely does.”
Dukmee’s gaze took in all of their party. “It seems Errd Tos expects to find information about the vehicles that transport the Lymen warriors.”
Bixby stirred beside Cantor. “We already knew that, but did they truly find anything?”
“What they found was a lot of material about Chomountain.”
“I have books I pilfered from one of the rooms.” Cantor patted his tunic where a hamper held what he’d gathered. “They looked to be about Cho. I didn’t take time to read the titles closely.”
Bixby bounced. Her light clothing glittered in the sunshine. “The room I looked into must have had works of art. I could see by the clean spots in the dust where statues had been. There were also places on the wall where pictures must have hung. I collected the pencils, quills, ink, and paper left behind. I thought Cantor could give us an idea of what these writing utensils had been used for.”
Cantor nodded to her. Yes, that would be useful, but the practice of his talent still gave him the willies. He likened it to dead people whispering in his ear, or some ghost moving his hand. It wasn’t that, Dukmee had assured him, but it did feel odd.
A loud cracking noise interrupted them.
They first looked at each other as if one of them would have an explanation. Cantor saw their puzzled expressions and focused his mind on hearing anything that would explain the explosive sound.
“There’s a commotion going on at the portal. People hurt, and the cracking noise was the portal shutting unexpectedly.”
Bixby stood with her head at a tilt, her face pensive as she listened. “The realm walker is on the other side.” She gasped. “He wasn’t the one holding it open. The council has a machine that serves the purpose of a realm walker. A machine!”
Disgust pulled at Dukmee’s face. “Yes, a mechanical device, something they’ve made instead of using the course of action given us by Primen. As you would expect, it hasn’t proven to be reliable. That’s why they had a realm walker with them. But he was unschooled and of no use when the portal started collapsing.”
“Shouldn’t we go help those who are injured?” She looked to Dukmee.
Cantor’s jaw clenched. Of course, Dukmee was the oldest and the most experienced, but no one had assigned him as the person to be in charge. It grated, after two years of being the one making the decisions. He consulted Bridger, true, but the ultimate choice was his.
He chastised himself. Arrogance helped no one, and if he had to step aside in order to work well with Dukmee and Bixby, then that’s what he had to do.
Dukmee didn’t answer Bixby’s question but stood collecting information. Cantor watched his thoughtful expression and knew exactly when the mage had left his mental assessment of
the situation at the portal. With eyes bright, Dukmee addressed his friends.
“The injuries are minor. One of the laborers seems to have enough training to patch the scrapes. The councilman believes the portal will reopen in a matter of minutes.” Dukmee chuckled. “He’s distraught, and I don’t think our aid would be anything but more disruption. And I do think it’s prudent to keep our presence a secret.”
“I want to see them,” said Neekoh. “Can I sneak close and watch them for a while?”
Cantor gave the hamper holding the books to Dukmee. “I’ll take Neekoh while you look at these. I hope there’s something useful in there.”
He smiled and gestured with his head to the ward guardian. “Come on.”
“We’ll be here when you get back.” Bixby’s wave was cut off by her eagerness to see the contents of the hamper. She and Dukmee sat on the ground with Cantor’s unpretentious sack between them.
Cantor took one last look, then hiked up the hill toward the ruins. “Stay close. I’m taking you to a rise in the land on the far side. We should be able to look straight at the portal area from there.”
Neekoh followed. His stealth impressed Cantor. When they reached the place where they could slither under some bushes and peer over the crest, Neekoh kept taking big breaths and holding them.
“Trying to settle your nerves?” Cantor whispered.
Neekoh nodded but said nothing.
“Look.” Cantor pointed. “The portal is just now opening.”
The area in front of the waiting men shimmered like heat waves on a desert. A dark color separated from the undulating center and looked like it solidified in a frame around the portal. The hue and formation didn’t look right to Cantor. He counted himself as an experienced realm walker, but his skin crawled at the sight.
Cantor could tell that Neekoh had never seen such a thing. “That doorjamb is not really there,” he explained. “You could pass your hand through it.”
The realm walker stepped through. Cantor took a good look, first trying to recognize him and then etching the man on his memory. He wanted to know who this man was. If he ran into him again, he’d be wary of any connection.