Flight of the Wounded Falcon
It was darkening by the time the retrieval team reached the glacial valley fort. The riders were drenched, but they’d avoided most of the dangerous runoff. At the fort obscured by tall pines they could change, eat, and sleep before the next leg of the journey down to Edge. Province 8. Whatever.
The guards at the fort were surprised to see them arrive early, and that there were ten in the group instead of eight. But it wasn’t a problem. The fort was supplied to take care of the needs of fifty people, with room to sleep twenty-five at a time.
Young Pere and Amory found themselves in the narrow eating area of the fort, filling up on stew while the team discussed travel arrangements in the front reception room, and Dr. Snelling received a tour of the long narrow building that followed the contour of the large stand of pines and aspens that surrounded it.
The two tag-alongs ate in awkward silence for a few minutes, occasionally glancing at each other with polite smiles. No one had conversed while riding up the mountain to avoid exposing themselves to the rain, and now Young Pere felt uncomfortable sitting so close to a woman he didn’t know. Finally, he thought of something to say.
“I’m sorry to hear about your uncle.”
But she didn’t hear him, because at the same time she said, “You’re Perrin Shin’s grandson, aren’t you?”
They looked at each, confused, then chuckled.
“What did you say?” Amory asked.
“I’m sorry . . . I don’t remember now.”
“But you’re a Shin, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. Call me . . . Pere.”
“That’s right,” she nodded with a smile. “Young Pere. I was sorry to hear about your grandfather. Rather sudden, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was,” Pere mumbled.
“I saw him a few times when he came down to our tower station,” she recalled. “I was only a girl when they were building the one next to our home, and I’d go out and watch. He was quite unforgettable, wasn’t he?” she said, a little dreamily.
Pere didn’t know how to respond to that. She had the same faraway look in her eyes Mrs. Yordin had when she talked about his grandfather.
“I’m a little surprised they’re letting you go,” Amory said. “Would seem rather dangerous, I’d think, to let the world know the Shins still exist.”
“Why do you say that?” he asked cagily.
“Because your grandmother would.”
Pere sneered slightly. “My grandmother?”
“Yes. She was my world history teacher. Told us all about the ‘demise of the Shins’.”
Pere scoffed. “She’s everyone’s world history teacher. And she didn’t tell you everything. I know. I had to take her class as well.”
Amory smirked. “So why are they letting you go?”
Pere hesitated to remember his story, which he hadn’t yet rehearsed enough. “As part of my training to become a doctor.”
Amory sat back and smiled demurely. “No it’s not. You’re lying.”
“I am not!”
She rolled her eyes. “Salemites are terrible liars. You’re going to have to do much better than that.”
“Why do you think I’m lying?”
“Because you hesitated to respond, your eyes darted when you spoke, and your shoulder twitched. You’re giving yourself away. You have to control your eyes, your body, and especially your breathing. Don’t twitch, don’t back down, and don’t blink. Here, watch me.”
She leaned in close to Pere and her sparkling green eyes held his brown ones.
“But first I have to admit something, although I can’t believe I’m saying this because I just barely met you. Looking into your eyes is having a startling effect on me,” she said in a sultry tone, “and there’s nothing I want more than to slide my hands all over your chest to find out just how firm you really are.”
Pere knew he wasn’t breathing and he didn’t know how to start again. But he did know enough not to let his eyes bulge as he stared at her in shock.
Amory leaned back and smiled. “You believed me there for a moment, didn’t you?” She tossed her blond hair as if forgetting it was tied back in a damp ponytail.
He remembered not to inhale again and gave her his well-practice half smile back. “Of course not,” he said staring back into her eyes.
Amory smiled. “Much better. Good eye control. But your shoulder twitched again. You’ll need to work on that if you want to pass yourself off as whatever you’re planning to do down there.”
Pere swallowed hard. “You won’t expose me?” he whispered.
“As long as you don’t expose me,” she whispered back.
Pere smiled, still feeling a bit shaken by her closeness. “That was quite a line there.”
She chuckled. “That’s how I started. Sweet talking my husband,” she said with agitation. “If I could say those things to him without flinching, I knew I could say anything to anyone. He was such a simpleton. He believed me, every time.”
“How did he . . . pass away?” Pere asked carefully.
Amory scoffed. “He’s not dead. He wouldn’t know how to die. All he knows is how to put wheat in the ground, take wheat out, then do it again and again. Nothing is duller than being married to a wheat farmer. Can you understand dull, Pere?”
“Oh, yeah. I understand dull.”
“I’m sure you do. You’ve been stuck in Salem like me. It’s not like I didn’t try to love him or try to see him as something more,” Amory said, rather flippantly. “But after twelve years you begin to realize that’s as good as it’s going to get, and that’s depressing. I’ve been wanting to get away from him for a while, and told him I wanted a termination of our marriage. He could go anywhere, do anything. He could even have the girls. He was the one who wanted them in the first place. But,” she sighed and picked at her stew, “I was too convincing earlier in our marriage. He was sure I adored him and that if I talked to Rector Anth and Guide Zenos enough, I’d remember how much.” Amory shuddered. “It was just too much. The stupid man couldn’t get it through his fat head that I wanted out! Even when I threw the kettle at him, he just stood there and let it hit him in the eye.”
“So you are part of that fighting couple Shem left to see?” Pere guessed. “I wanted to thank you for that. He’s my uncle, in case you didn’t know. He never would’ve let me leave, but you were a sufficient diversion.”
She raised an eyebrow. “That’s right. I forgot he’s your uncle. No wonder you were in such a hurry to get the team moving before he returned.”
“Yeah, I’m the one who told them to leave early because of the storm. Great timing, huh?”
“And for that I should thank you. I was planning to spend the night hiding in the barn until morning. Instead, I’m already out of Salem. But I’m telling you, Pere, you’re a terrible liar. Your guilt is all over your face. But there are ways to improve that. You need to think differently.”
“How?”
Amory glanced around the narrow room. Her eyes rested on the mug and she held it up. “Water, right?”
“Yes.”
“Is it always water? When it freezes, we no longer call it water. We call it ice. It’s changed. Is it still water?”
Pere narrowed his eyes at it. “It’s a form of water.”
“That’s right. Still water, in a way. Its form has changed. Now what about when it’s boiled away or evaporates?”
“When it’s steam?”
“Yes, is that still water?” she prodded.
“I’m not sure. You can’t even see it anymore, unless it hits something cold. Then it turns back to water”
“But what about outside on a hot day?” Amory said. “I put a bucket of water outside for the dog, and a few hours later it’s gone. You can’t see anything.”
“Well, sort of,” Pere said. “Enough evaporates and it eventually becomes clouds.”
Amory held up a finger. “So are clouds considered water?”
Pere thought for a moment. “Not really, I s
uppose. They hold water. They are water, in a way.”
“But you wouldn’t look up into the sky and say, ‘What interesting water formations,’ now would you?”
Pere smiled. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“Pere, you remember that axiom they had us practice with handwriting when we were young? ‘Nothing is more beautiful than truth’?”
Pere’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering where she was going with this. “Yes,” he said slowly.
“Now think about this, who’s to say what is beautiful, and what is true? I mean, my second daughter is a repulsive thing, but still people croon and say, ‘Oh, what a beautiful child!’ Something can be oozing out of her nose, her hair’s impossible to brush, and she has a lazy eye. Still my husband’s grandmother will say, ‘How adorable!’”
Already Pere could tell he wasn’t dealing with the most loving mother in Salem. “There was a baby in our congregation a few seasons ago. Really quite an unpleasant looking thing, but you’re right—everyone said how beautiful he was. I don’t know how that mother kissed his face.”
Amory scoffed. “I produced three of those. The oldest is so shy now she won’t even make a peep, and the youngest just whines and whines. And my middle girl? Hideous, as you’ve heard.”
Pere didn’t know whether to chuckle or silently weep for those girls.
“Beauty is subjective, Pere,” Amory plowed on, already forgetting the daughters she’d left behind. “For some, nothing’s more beautiful than a cow, while someone else thinks nothing’s more beautiful than a flower. Different people, different definitions.”
Pere nodded. “I think I get what you mean.”
“So if beauty is subjective, isn’t truth as well? Isn’t truth what each of us decides is real and meaningful for ourselves?”
Pere thought about that. “But The Writings say there is only one truth.”
“Who wrote The Writings, Pere?”
“The guides.”
“And who are the guides?”
“Men chosen by the Creator.”
“And are men ever mistaken? Do they ever not quite get the truth exactly right?”
He hesitated. “Well, sure. But not when they are acting as the guides.”
“And how do you know when your uncle is acting as the guide?” Amory pressed. “Has he ever made a wrong decision or told you something that didn’t work out right?”
Pere sighed and remembered when the guide asked him to fast for his grandfather to ask for another miracle. None came.
“I can see by your face that he has,” Amory said quietly. “You need to work on that. Pere, truth changes its form, just like water. One moment it’s ice, an hour later it’s a cloud. It’s still there, but in different forms, with different names and different ways of showing itself.
“I told the scouts that I have no husband,” she continued. “In my mind, I don’t. That’s my form of the truth. I don’t need Guide Zenos’s permission to terminate my marriage. He can have his own truth, but he has no right to impose his truth upon me. Your thinking and reasoning have been controlled by Salem since the day you were born. But I’m telling you, it doesn’t have to be that way. You can see whatever truth you wish. And when you understand that, you’ll have no more problems telling anyone anything.”
Pere tried to follow all of that, and his mind got caught up in water and ugly babies and cows.
“I never lie, Pere,” Amory said firmly. “I only tell my view of the truth.”
He smiled, as coyly as she had earlier. “You say you never lie, yet a few minutes ago you looked me in the eyes and told me what an effect they had on you.”
“There are many levels of truth, Pere,” she said with a flirtatious grin. “Just like there are many shades of blue. I’ll leave it up to you to imagine just how much blue I really meant.”
Pere looked down at the table in embarrassment. He was used to being the one in control of the swoon.
“How old are you anyway, Pere?”
“Eighteen.”
Amory groaned. “That’s too bad. I thought you were a lot older than that. You look older.”
“That’s good to know,” Pere said, looking up. “How old are you?”
Amory sighed. “Thirty-four, last season. On my birthday I decided I didn’t want to spend the next thirty-four years stuck in the same life. I’m still relatively young, still rather attractive—”
Pere didn’t mean to cough in surprise at her humble evaluation of herself, but he did.
Amory smiled slyly at him. “Oh good. Thank you.” Her green eyes sparkled. “I still have time to find something better for myself.”
“You think it’s in the world?”
“Don’t you?”
Pere shrugged.
“What are you going for anyway?” she asked.
Pere hesitated. “I’m not really sure I want to confide that much in you.”
To his surprise she shrugged. “That’s all right. I’m not telling you everything either.”
“So there’s no aunt you need to visit?”
She scoffed as if that were obvious. “What’s your final destination, Pere?”
He raised one eyebrow at her.
She smiled in understanding. “So, do you have a plan for getting away from the scouts once we reach Edge?”
“Perhaps,” Pere answered. “Do you?”
“Not completely. I don’t really know anything about the world except what I learned from your grandmother, and that was several years ago when I was at the university.”
“Do you . . . need some help?”
“I can help you in return, you know.”
“Help me how?”
Amory smiled in a way that unexpectedly stirred him. “We can discuss that later, once we’re safely in Edge.”
---
It was still dark outside when Pere gently shook Amory’s net litter. She was asleep, alone, in the forward office, and the guard was outside in front for the night.
Her eyes immediately popped open and she quietly slid out of the litter. She grabbed her pack and overcoat, and slipped out the side door, following Pere. He already had on his overcoat and pack, and they hurried to the stables.
Pere repositioned his pack. It was much heavier now, with food to last several days and a few handfuls of gold and silver slips taken from the supply room. He had wrapped them in Yordin’s lieutenant’s jacket to muffle their noise, and hoped it’d be enough. He didn’t know how much money it was, or how much they’d need.
“Can you ride bareback?” Pere whispered to Amory as they crept back to the end of the fort. “We’ll get out much faster if we don’t need to saddle up.”
“Yes, as long as the horses don’t run.”
“We’ll gallop to the end of the valley, but then the trail narrows so the horses will have to walk single file. You’re not afraid?”
Amory shook her head. “Look, the two moons are nearly full. The storm’s passed. We’ll be fine.”
“We just need to get past the guards posted at the end of the valley. Let me handle it.”
They slipped into the stable and a moment later came out with two horses.
“This is just too easy,” Pere muttered as he and Amory mounted. It had to be a sign. Now all he needed was the guards to be gullible one last time. They walked the horses away from the fort before spurring them into a fast gallop south to the end of the valley, about a quarter mile away. Pere knew where the guards would be hiding and slowed down at the mouth of the dark valley. The two bodies dropped out of their hidden platforms in the trees just as he imagined they would.
“Where are you going so early in the morning?” one of them asked, jogging up to Pere.
He glanced over to make sure Amory’s hood was up as planned. He could see nothing of her face.
“Sir, we’re in a great hurry. Dr. Snelling here is concerned about the rector’s health. We decided to get an early start.”
“A doctor? Great!” said the secon
d man. “I hope you have a moment. You see, I’ve had this pain right here—”
Pere shook his head. “I’m sorry, we really need to be going. Dr. Snelling has lost his voice riding up in the rain last night, and it’s too dark to properly see you anyway, sir. But we’ll be back in a couple of days. Dr. Snelling can certainly see you then.”
“But what if the pain is gone by then?”
Amory cleared her throat roughly, sounding convincingly male.
Pere nodded and turned to the guard again. “Please, time is of the essence. Dr. Snelling is eager to get down.”
“Of course, of course. I hope you feel better, Doctor.”
Amory cleared her throat again and nodded under her hood.
The guards stepped aside to allow the horses to pass. Not until they were a great distance down the narrow mountain trail did Amory finally push back her hood and chuckle.
Pere glanced back at her. The sky in the east was just beginning to brighten, and he could make out her features clearly. Even in the early morning light she was breathtaking.
“Doing all right, Doctor?”
Amory laughed lightly. “Will the First Resting Station be as easy?”
“Should be, since we’re not going into it. The trees are marked for an additional route on foot. I studied my father’s maps before we left. Some years ago he had the forests above Edge and Moorland marked like everything else. Once we hit the forest, we just need to find the correct route. We’ll have to abandon the horses then. It might be about a mile through the trees. You’re up to that, right?”
“Don’t I look like I’m in good physical condition?”
Pere let out a low whistle he hoped she didn’t hear. “Yep,” was all he answered as he turned back around.
---
The sun had just crested over the mountains. For the last five minutes Woodson and his scouts had been looking around the fort for their two missing members.
That’s when the four horses and riders came racing into the valley. While the animals were exhausted and frothy, three of the riders continued on in a gallop past the fort, while the fourth rider dismounted and jogged over to Woodson.
Woodson gestured to the three Clarks growing smaller in the distance. “What’s that all about?”
“They’re after Young Perrin Shin and Amory Riling.”
“Oh, no,” Woodson whispered, suddenly understanding. “They’re not here anymore, are they? That’s why we can’t find them.” He whistled loudly to get the attention of the other scouts and waved them back in. “Listen up!”
The rider, still trying to catch his breath, told the men between gasps, “Guide Zenos didn’t give permission for his nephew to join the team, nor for Mrs. Riling. She abandoned her family, and Young Perrin Shin may be headed to Sands.”
“Sands!” Woodson exclaimed. “What’s he going to do there?!”
“Unsure. It seems Mrs. Yordin has been meeting with him regularly. She’s not been cooperative yet.”
Woodson rubbed his temples. “The guide must be infuriated with me!”
“No, just with himself. Even Rector Shin was tricked by Young Pere. Guide Zenos just wants them brought back immediately.” He waved at the three riders nearly out of sight. “That’s what they’re trying to do. Could use your help, though. Don’t know how much longer their horses will last.”
“Of course,” Woodson sighed in frustration. He turned to the scouts who now joined him. “Go find the doctor! We need to leave now to catch our two runaways.”
Dr. Snelling came out of the fort and stretched with a broad grin on his face.
“What a fantastic place! Why, I could stare at this valley all morning—”
“Stare when we return. We’re leaving now!”
---
As soon as the sun came over the mountains, Pere and Amory clucked the horses into an uneasy trot down the narrow trail. The horses slipped and shifted nervously.
“Are you sure we need to hurry?” Amory called up to Pere as her horse lost his footing again. “We should be at least an hour ahead of them.”
“Yes, we need to hurry,” he answered. “As soon as they realize we’re missing, they’ll start looking for us. And if I know Uncle Shem, he’ll send a messenger to the fort telling them we’re supposed to return to Salem.”
“Well, he couldn’t send a messenger until first light—”
“Don’t be too sure. Shem was an expert at traveling in the dark as a younger scout. He could pick his way through any obstacle and find his way through anything in the blackest of nights. And he’s the one who’s been training the guards and scouts for the past twenty-five years. All of them can probably do what he could do.”
Pere was aware that his voice sounded a little admiring, and he tried to squash it.
“The retrieval team is probably already on its way. But Uncle Shem said he could do this route in four hours or less if the conditions were right. So far the trail on this side of the mountains is dry. The storm must have stopped at the glacier valley. At this rate we can make it to Edge before midday meal, but only if we hurry.”
“Sounds like you know what you’re doing. So I suppose you’re in charge, Pere,” Amory said.
“Yes, I am,” Pere whispered. Then added, “And I will be.”
Within two hours they reached an outcropping that overlooked Edge, just before the boulder field began. Pere stopped his horse and allowed Amory to catch up while he took in the village that lay below him.
“There it is,” Pere said, disappointed. “It’s not nearly as impressive as I imagined . . .”
Amory scoffed. “This isn’t the whole world, Pere. This is just one little piece of it. Imagine this multiplied by twenty, with Idumea in the middle. Idumea is four times the size of Salem. You’re looking at . . . ‘Norden’.”
Pere tipped his head. “Hmm. Probably right. That must be the fort,” he nodded at a large wooden expanse of buildings, walls, and banners. He could barely make out figures walking back and forth like mites.
“So what are you planning to do here?” Amory asked.
Pere looked at her askance. “Nothing.”
“Come on, tell me. You’re going to join the army, aren’t you?”
Pere didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, and didn’t back down. “Absolutely not,” he said.
Amory gave him a dazzling smile. “Excellent! So you are! Well that makes sense. What else would the grandson of Perrin Shin, who is bored in Salem, do otherwise? I can hardly wait to see you in uniform.”
Pere sighed. “You figured all of that out?”
Amory chuckled. “Not too hard, Pere. But I didn’t read it on your face, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a quick study. So what’s your plan?”
Pere smiled slyly. “You’ll just have to wait and see, like the rest of the world.”
She smiled coyly back. “Ooh, I’m intrigued! I love surprises!”
Pere felt a knot growing in his stomach as he looked at her. He pressed his lips together firmly and nodded. “Best be on our way. The access to the boulder field is some ways down there. That’s where we continue on foot.”
Amory winked at him. “Lead on, Colonel Shin!”
Pere raised an eyebrow at her.
She raised both of hers at him.
The knot in his belly tightened.
It took Pere a little while to find the correct access point to the boulder field. There were several blind entrances and when he finally found the right markings, he groaned in frustration.
“These are hard to decipher,” Amory said with a sarcastic laugh. “I’m so glad I’m with someone as smart as you. No wonder it took you half an hour to find it.”
Pere grumbled. “I wasn’t exactly expecting this,” he said running his hand over the precise etchings in the stone that said, “Foot Entrance” with a large arrow pointing to the correct opening. He shook his head again at the stupidity of it all. He half expected to see a container of swords nearby
that said, “Take one!”
“Then again,” he said, “it’s not like anyone from Edge is going in the opposite direction. This sign is only for Salemites. They couldn’t make it any easier, could they?”
They left the horses and entered into the interlinked caves created by the large crevices between the boulders. Less than half an hour later they were out, having followed more etched arrows along the stone leading them easily through the maze. They found themselves at the forest, and before them was a chasm that spewed out steaming water.
Amory knelt by it and cautiously touched some of the water on the edge that spilled into a little stream headed down the hill. “This is amazing! I read about these, but never imagined I would see one. Hot spring, right?”
Pere kneeled down next to it and tested the water with a finger. “Nearly boiling!” he exclaimed. He looked at it for a moment, then put his palm completely in the water and yanked it out again.
Amory blinked at him in surprise. “You already knew it was hot, so you put your hand in again?”
Pere hated it when people questioned his actions. “I just wanted to see exactly how hot it was, all right?!”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s stupid to get burned.”
“I’m not burned,” he said, shaking his hand and ignoring the burning sensation. “Come on. This is when the trip gets really interesting. Right there, see the slashes? Now those are what I’m looking for. Watch your step. The ground can be treacherous, so don’t stray.”
Amory stepped in behind Pere who started carefully through the thick trees. They hadn’t traveled too far when a strong smell reached their noses.
“Ew, what is that?” Amory scowled.
“I’m guessing that’s sulfur.” Pere sniffed the air. “My father said it smells like rotten eggs. It means there’s activity nearby. All the more reason to stick to the path.”
“What path?” Amory said, still scowling.
“This one,” he said, pointing to another directional slashing on the trees. “The angle at the top shows the direction we go, the number of slashes underneath tell us how many tens of paces before we need to look for another marked tree. Two slashes, twenty average paces, due south. Now, if you look from where we came,” he said as he turned around—
And stopped.
He scanned the thick forest behind him, panic rising slowly in his gut.
“What is it?” Amory asked.
Pere didn’t answer but continued to look at the trees, the panic now reaching his throat and choking it. Frantically, he rushed back to the tree with the bear-like slashes and noticed something he hadn’t before.
“What is it?” Amory asked again, more urgently.
“Uhh . . . there are no markings to get back,” he said. “When we mark the trees to the ancient temple site, we mark the backs of them on the way down, to help those who may need to return to the valley. But these backs aren’t marked. Wait a minute . . .”
He spun and raced up through the forest to the boulder field, sprinting until he reached the boulders.
And his heart fell.
There were no etchings on the rock saying, “This way to Salem.” All of the boulders, and the cracks between them, looked exactly the same.
“All right,” he told himself, “no problem. I’ll just mark them now. The foot path was right before the hot spring, which is . . . Where’s the hot spring?!”
Just that quickly, he was lost.
“Hot spring, hot spring, hot spring,” he muttered uselessly as he jogged up and down the boulder line, but there was no spring anywhere, as if the meadows had swallowed it up in the last ten minutes.
“All right, all right, all right,” he tried to calm himself. “Just head back down to the trees. They’re only trees. You can handle this. Just find Amory again . . . Where’s Amory?”
Suddenly he realized something: getting into the world was simple. Getting out was not.
Throwing caution to the wind, he bellowed, “Amory? Amory!”
In the distance he heard a faint call back. “Pere? Where did you go? Pere!”
He followed the voice, trying to watch his footing as well as watch for markings on the trees.
“Pere! PERE!” her shrieking eventually grew louder.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” he called. “I hear you. Keep your voice down!” and he finally broke through the underbrush to find her in the same place he left her. Or so he assumed.
She rushed over and threw her arms around him.
“All right, I’ll admit it. This forest is scary,” she whimpered into his neck. “You were gone only a few minutes, but that slick of mud there began to bubble! This place is so weird!”
Pere took a deep breath and tried to still his heart. It shouldn’t have been beating so quickly, and he realized part of the problem may have been that Amory wasn’t releasing him. She likely needed more comforting, he decided, based on her frantic panting now into his chest and judging by the fierceness of her embrace, as if he were the only man alive who could keep her safe. The proper thing to do in such a situation, he realized, was to help calm her down.
“It’s all right, it’s all right,” he repeated as he ran his hands over her back. “We can still see the markings going down. Right there on that tree. I’ll just slash the rest of trees as we pass them, so when we return we can make it at least this far back up.”
She pulled away from him a little and looked up into his face. “When are you planning to return?”
He was aware that his arms were still wrapped around her body. Her surprisingly firm and narrow body. “Not for some time. I just plan to keep all my options open.”
She looked down at his chest and, as if suddenly realizing she was still hugging him, abruptly stepped out of his arms.
“When are you planning to return?” Pere asked, feeling immensely embarrassed and unsure of what do with his hands now that they weren’t touching her anymore. Remembering what he needed to do, he reached for his pack and pulled out his knife.
She watched his every movement. “I haven’t decided yet. I’ve been so concerned about getting down that I hadn’t planned that far ahead. I’m not even sure if I want to return.”
“Really? What will you do in the world, then?”
She smiled demurely at him. “Tell me all your plans, and I’ll tell you all of mine.”
Pere eyed her. “Understood. Let’s get moving. This may take longer than I anticipated.”
Amory exhaled. “Twenty paces, due south? Let’s go.”
It was less than a mile through the forest, but even with its steady slope it took Pere and Amory a couple of hours to reach the end of it. His stopping to slash the backs of the trees was only one of the causes for their delay. The other was staring in surprise at the violence of the ground around them.
In one clearing, a hot fountain of water shot into the air at least thirty paces above them. Not too far beyond that they found enormous caverns spewing steam and emitting low growling noises that sounded as if the ground was alive and not entirely happy about it.
They skirted another barren clearing where all vegetation was withered, and the corpse of a deer lay rotting near a vent of some kind, as if whatever it was emitting poisoned the animal.
At each new wonder they stared in amazement and tried to remember the name of the natural event they were watching. Pere almost wished he’d paid closer attention in his world history course. He’d heard his father and grandparents discuss these phenomena multiple times as he grew up, but never paid attention, because why should he care about something he’d never see?
Now he carefully picked his way around, behind, and terrifyingly near some of those things his grandmother had tested him on last year.
They knew they were nearing the end of the forest because of a loud rhythmic sound they heard coming through the trees. At first Pere thought it might have been another belching cavern, but as they ne
ared the deep beating sound, it didn’t seem natural.
Pere and Amory cautiously approached the edge of the forest and stared in amazement at the most bizarre view they’d seen that day.
Before them was a vast field, the grasses trampled flat by the presence of several hundred people. Most of them looked to be about Pere’s age and they were . . . bouncing. That was the best way he could describe it. Bouncing to the rhythms that came from a slightly raised platform where five men—
He guessed they were men, but Pere wasn’t quite sure as he looked at their hair which was much longer than Shem’s or Puggah’s, so actually they could have been women, but their bodies didn’t look quite right—
Where five people beat out rhythms on enormous drums.
Pere felt the pounding in his gut and the urge to bounce along with the people trampling the grasses. He noticed that, strangely, no one seemed to be looking at anyone, but past each other. Yet somehow they were bouncing and gyrating into each other, and in such deliberate ways that he felt the need to look away, except that curiosity kept him staring at the scene.
No one in Salem would ever consider standing that close to someone they weren’t married to, and they certainly wouldn’t collide repeatedly into the body of someone else.
All at once Pere was overwhelmed with feelings of shock, fear, anger . . . and fascination.
“Oh my,” Amory whispered next to him. “What is this?”
“I have no idea,” Pere whispered back.
“It certainly isn’t a Holy Day meeting, is it?”
Pere had completely forgotten that today was Holy Day. It felt like it was no day at all, just a piece of time taken out for him to witness.
He scanned the perimeter and saw tall posts to hold torches, lighting the area as the sun went down. A river ran nearby the field and Pere saw many more people lying on the banks of it. When he looked again he realized that what he thought were individuals were actually two people, rolling between the trees and kissing and—
Pere’s chin dropped.
Muggah never mentioned anything like this in his world history course.
“Oh my,” Amory whispered again.
Pere couldn’t even respond. They needed to find a way to introduce themselves into the society of Edge, but this . . . this was . . . oh, my.
“We can’t go there!” Amory said to Pere, gripping his arm.
He exhaled in relief.
“Not looking like this,” she said in disgust. She turned him to her and looked him up and down. “But I can fix it. Come with me,” and she began to pull him to an old shed that stood on the edge of the forest.
Pere was too stunned to speak, so he followed her into the small abandoned building and she shut the door behind them. The shed reeked of old urine and something else Pere didn’t know how to define, nor did he want to.
“This is better. We can analyze them without drawing attention to ourselves. Look at their clothes,” she said, peering out the small, broken window.
“I have been,” Pere breathed.
“They look a bit like ours, but after a bad storm. I think all those rips and holes are deliberate. Some are certainly well positioned, aren’t they?”
Pere tried not to look at the group of girls that swayed to the drums about twenty paces away. They wore more holes and tears than cloth, revealing much more flesh than he’d ever seen on someone older than a toddler.
Amory turned from the small window and evaluated Pere’s clothes. “Yes, I can fix this. Take off your shirt.”
Pere hesitated. “Why?”
“I’m going to make us look like them. Come on, take it off!”
He’d forgotten that scouts to the world usually brought along “worldly clothes,” as they called them. They needed to blend in with the villagers, but all he had in his pack was Yordin’s uniform, and he wasn’t ready to put that on yet. Not in front of Amory.
Reluctantly he unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to her. Immediately he felt exposed, especially as Amory took a deep breath and smiled at his broad, bare chest.
He folded his arms tightly in front of himself.
She took his shirt, struggled for a moment to rip off the collar, then gripped it with her teeth and tore it like a starving dog tossed a steak. Then she twisted the torn collar, and the cloth that came with it, into a short rope. Draping his shirt over her shoulder, she next released her tightly bound hair and let it cascade past her shoulders.
Pere stopped breathing again, unable to take his eyes off her long, blond waves.
She tied the rope around her head like many of the other young women wore their hair, then pulled some bits of hair here and there for a messier look.
No one would have believed she was a thirty-four-year-old farmer’s wife. Pere certainly had a hard time remembering that as he watched.
Amory peered out the window again, looked at Pere’s tattered shirt, and glanced at her own tunic. Without warning, she peeled it off over her head.
Pere gasped. His eyes grew large before he instinctively put his head down and covered his eyes with one hand.
“Oh Pere, do grow up. Look at those women out there. They’re wearing less than me right now. I still have my undergarment on—”
Pere heard another ripping sound that sent a wave of nausea through his belly.
“—which now looks better.”
He couldn’t help himself, and parted his fingers to steal a glance.
Amory had torn the lower portion off her undershirt to reveal her torso, which—he also couldn’t help but notice—was slender and curved. The upper half of her was still covered, barely, by thin white cotton.
Amory noticed his glance. “So, what do you think? Not bad?”
His heart pounded so loudly he was sure she could hear it.
“I wouldn’t know, Amory,” he mumbled.
She smirked. “I’m sure you wouldn’t. We have to create new names for ourselves. It’s the fashion now, I’ve heard, everyone renames themselves. I was thinking of something supernatural” she said, taking up her tunic and ripping it judiciously. “Maybe something like, Dancer from the Stars. I think that’s what they’re doing out there, dancing. Certainly not like our dances, is it?” She tore off strips of his shirt to tie onto hers, creating a chaotic top.
Pere grew light-headed as he watched her between his fingers, which ludicrously shielded him from nothing. She slipped on her abbreviated creation, and a thought flashed through his mind that he shouldn’t have been staring at her, but he dismissed it.
Amory now looked like one of the young women out there, so he dropped his hand from shielding his view.
She raised her eyebrows and smiled in a way that suggested all kinds of meanings, but Pere only understood a couple of them.
He felt a jab in his chest, just above his heart.
No, Young Pere! Get out, now!
He could picture his grandfather clearly, as if he stood in the small gap between him and Amory, like a faint fog. He almost heard the words as distinctly as he felt them.
Don’t look at her, Young Pere. No more.
Amory rearranged bits of her hair. “Wish I had a mirror. And why are you looking at me like that, Perrin?” she said with disdain. “You looked just like him then. Your grandfather?” She fussed with the cloth fringing her exposed torso, trying to expose more of it.
“What was that?” he mumbled.
She glanced up. “You did. You looked just like Colonel Shin—General Shin—right then. All stern and humorless.”
“He had a sense of humor,” Pere defended weakly.
“Sure he did,” she said dismissively. “I even heard him laugh once when I was watching them build the tower. Really quite unforgettable . . .” Her voice trailed off as if lost in a memory. “I saw him come in, you know. When they first arrived in Salem? I must have been about nine years old. Now that was a man!” Amory stared off into the distance.
Pere frowned. He’d neve
r heard someone describe his Puggah like he was a man.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, she kept going. “I remember the day he arrived. ‘The colonel’s here!’ That was the news. Oh, you should have seen him! I could tell every woman in the valley was staring at him. I think they all lined the road just to sigh. He was in his late forties I guess, and oh, was he impressive! I wished then his jacket wasn’t inside out. He was probably covered in ribbons and medals.”
Pere had no idea how to react to her description of his grandfather.
Young Pere, get out!
Amory looked at him. “You know, he must have appeared a great deal like you at your age. Just look at you. Ah, I have my chance, don’t I? How firm are you?” she reminded, and placed a long, sleek finger on his bare shoulder and slowly slid it across to his neck.
Pere froze in place.
“I was always intrigued by army officers. I was envious of Mrs. Shin, especially when she was telling us stories about what their life was like years ago. My mind would always wander to picturing him younger. I imagined Colonel Shin had huge, round shoulders, just like these.”
Pere swallowed hard as her hands ran across them, and then slid down to his chest which she patted.
“My, but you are solid,” she said, evaluating his chest and tipping her head.
It was too much. Pere couldn’t even swallow. He gathered up all his courage, and felt oddly that some of it was borrowed from the colonel.
“Amory, please stop,” Pere’s voice trembled.
“Not yet. I told you I could help you as well, once we got to Edge. You look like a man who could use some help right now.”
He barked a nervous laugh. “Uh, I’m not exactly sure what kind of help you think I need, but I’m pretty certain this isn’t . . .” He didn’t know how to finish, unable to think clearly. All he could do was stare into her dazzling eyes and feel her hands on his flesh.
Slowly, almost cruelly, she removed them.
“All right, Pere. I’ll let you think about it for a while. Let your mind consider ways I could help you. We used your expertise to get here, and I can thank you by sharing some of mine. There’s a reason why my dull, dense husband would never willingly let go of me.”
Get out, Young Pere!
“I have an idea,” she said, giving him that same smile with multiple meanings—meanings that he was beginning to discern. “We spend a few hours out there learning about life in the world,” she slid her hand up to his shoulder again, “then we come back here and compare notes. Maybe then you’ll have some idea of how I can thank you.”
Pere’s blood was coursing through his veins with an energy he’d never before encountered. Something that made him want to grab her and, and . . .
Her hand slid off his shoulder. “I think we’re almost ready,” Amory said, picking up his shirt. She tore it twice, lengthwise, down the front. “Your shirt, or what’s left of it, should blend in now. Besides, those women will want to see a little muscle.” She handed it to him reluctantly. “Put it on.”
Pere quickly did so, and felt another jab that reached his belly.
Get out, NOW.
“Just one more detail,” Amory said. “Take off your trousers—”
“No!” Pere said loudly, startling even himself. “They’re just fine, I’m sure!” He fumbled with the remaining buttons on his shirt without trying to look at her, but he noticed the shadows playing across her face as she considered him.
“Fine, Pere,” she said with that same smile that both disturbed and intrigued him. “We’ll be back here soon enough anyway. I can make modifications then, if necessary.”
One more time he heard the voice almost as distinctly as he felt it. It was a general’s command.
PERE, Get Out, NOW!
He made his decision.
I will get out, he said to the voice in his mind. I came all this way, and now I’m going to go learn about the world.
“Let’s go,” he said to Amory. Pere walked out the door and felt distinctly that something was left behind. The stabbing feeling, the voice in his mind, the presence of . . . yes, it was Puggah. It was all gone.
As he walked down the hill to the crowd he felt absolutely nothing at all. Finally, he was free.
Chapter 22--“Oh, are you new?”