Safety Assured Leaving East of Medicetti

“Amazing!” Perrin said once the sun broke through the clouds, a little after sunrise.

  “Listen, Deck,” Peto said to his brother-in-law with childlike innocence, “Father’s trying to play ‘My eye can spy.’ I bet he can see something big and rocky.”

  Perrin chuckled as Clark negotiated a large stone. “No, what I mean is, even if we had dared to venture this far up the mountain, I can’t imagine how we would’ve navigated the rock.”

  The boulders on either side of the narrow trail stood as high as the horses, and lay on top of each other in piles, as if the mountain range had once been more majestic but allowed some of its height to tumble down to where the weather was milder. Shem had led them into the maze which rose several hundred paces up the mountain side. In the trail between the boulders they were concealed nearly completely. Perrin stood up once in the stirrups, his head just higher than the rock, and reported that he could barely see Edge.

  “Shem, how do we get around this?” he called up to the lead horse.

  Narrower trails branched off into the rock, but Shem didn’t follow any of them. He turned around in his saddle and grinned. “We don’t go around the boulders—we go through!”

  “How?” asked an astonished Deck.

  “You’ll see. In the meantime, enjoy the views.”

  “Of what?” Peto groused. “First views of black, now views of house-sized boulders. Scenic, Shem, very scenic.”

  But Mahrree shook her head in amazement. Or mazement, perhaps. From her home she had seen this swath of rock which ran above the tree line along the base of the mountain range, but rarely thought much of it. Yet today she understood what an ant must experience trying to pick its way through a rocky river bed.

  As if to compensate for their suspenseful forest travel, the ride was mercifully dull. The horses had been hidden far to the west, so they plodded east again into a bright sun which dried both cloaks and beasts. While grateful for the light and warmth, Mahrree learned that the odor of wet horses was worse than the sulfur pits. It didn’t help that drifts of steam rose from Clark and headed straight up her nose.

  Despite it all, Mahrree felt herself falling in and out of sleep as Perrin guided Clark. But it was impossible to rest. Each time her eyelids drooped, she thought she heard a newborn crying in the distance.

  Her head snapped up for good when she heard Shem call out, “Here’s the path. We’re still west of where we left Jaytsy, so they’ll catch up to us in a while. It took our ancestors a full season of exploration to find a route horses could travel. But when we found it, we didn’t need to move any rock or excavate any dirt. Miraculously, the Creator had already made a way to escape. We just had to find it.”

  Peto, behind Shem, muttered, “Yes, this is very convenient.”

  Shem twisted to consider Peto, then, without a word, turned back in his saddle, prodded his horse up into the boulders, and disappeared.

  Peto looked back at his parents in alarm as his horse automatically followed Shem’s. Deck went next, and finally Mahrree and Perrin made the left turn into another narrow route.

  It was if the boulders, each several hands higher than the horses’ heads, had been deliberately placed to allow passage for the width of a horse and rider. The path rose steeply through the rock, turning and twisting at intervals with alternate routes branching off to ends they couldn’t see. Only a crack of sky was visible above the narrows.

  “Even if we had ever chased someone up here,” Perrin whispered in Mahrree’s ear—it seemed inappropriate to speak any louder—“we would have lost them after the first few paces. We could wander in here for days and never find the route up and out.”

  After several more turns, the constricted path opened into a surprisingly large cavern, big enough to hold forty horses, and the temperature was cool and comfortable. Off the main cavern were several smaller chambers, all dimly lit by sunlight which slipped through the cracks. One chamber held wrapped bundles of supplies. Another looked like a makeshift stable. Still another had hanging from the rock several net litters like Jaytsy’s.

  Shem slid off his horse and spread open his arms. “Welcome to the First Resting Station!”

  His four followers just sat on their horses, stunned at the view that had suddenly opened up to them.

  “Where exactly are we?” Perrin asked.

  “About halfway up the rock line,” Shem told them proudly. “It’s impossible to see any of this from Edge. I’ve tried, many times, even with your scope. Now, by my estimation we have a few minutes before Jaytsy arrives. Then we’ll eat, nap, and continue on our journey after the sun’s dried everything up. Any objections?”

  Peto perked up. “Did you say eat?”

  “Yes he did!” Asrar said from an unnoticed corner. “Potatoes, the first berries of the season, ham, and biscuits made fresh last night. If you would like to join me in the eating room?” She smiled as she gestured to a large flat rock set for a meal.

  Mahrree felt like crying for joy. She slid off of Clark and then just felt like crying, stuck in a permanently hunched position.

  “Oh Asrar, could you bring some of that, ow, ow, over here? My legs can’t remember how to move without a horse under them.”

  Peto chuckled at his mother, until he slid off his horse. “Ow, ow, ow, ow!” and he slumped to the floor. “Now I’m conveniently disabled. Couldn’t run away if I tried,” he murmured.

  Perrin shook his head. “Boy, I tried to get you to ride at the fort, but you always said, ‘No, I’m not going to be a soldier’.” He dismounted, stretched easily and with great emphasis, then scooped his son under his arms and dragged him to the rock table. “Never laugh at your mother,” he said, dropping Peto on the dirt floor.

  Peto looked up at him and fluttered his eyes. “Whatever you order, sir.” He whimpered at the platters, full and waiting.

  Perrin sauntered over to Mahrree who wore her best pathetic expression. “But you, my poor darling wife . . .” Perrin scooped her up tenderly and carried her to the rock table. He sat her on a makeshift stone chair, and immediately she realized that was a mistake.

  “We have something to rub on your backside to help,” Asrar said as she saw Mahrree’s discomfort. “And I am sure there’s enough for Peto, too.”

  Deck remained on his horse, focused on the entrance to the cavern. “Shem? Maybe I could just go out and look . . .”

  “You’ll never find your way out or back,” Shem told him, “But I promise you, she’s safe. I feel it.”

  “I know,” Deck said quietly. “I feel it too. I just hate her not knowing that we’re safe. Why isn’t she here yet?”

  “The horses take it slow and easy with the expecting mothers,” Shem said. Seeing that wasn’t enough for Deck, he offered, “Come eat, and then the two of us can do a little scouting for her.”

  “She’s all right, Deck,” Mahrree told him. “I’m sure of it.”

  Deck sent another fleeting look down the shadowy paths before reluctantly dismounting.

  Throughout breakfast, which they agreed tasted better than anything anywhere, Deck kept his eye on the narrows. He was the first to hear a faint sound of a horse snorting and leaped to his feet, breaking into a run across the cavern. At the entrance he waited to see which path would produce his wife.

  Finally a large black draft horse emerged, with Jothan in the lead. He smiled at Deck and said, “She is well.”

  The swinging litter came through next, with Jaytsy. The midwife’s horse soon appeared and they stopped in the cavern.

  Mahrree did her best to stand up, and waddled even more ridiculously than her daughter. “Jaytsy!” she called, but Deck spun around to shush her. “She’s asleep?” Mahrree whispered loudly. Not that an expecting mother didn’t deserve a good sleep, but it didn’t seem fair.

  “She dozed off soon after we left you,” Barb said, dismounting. “The poor thing was so exhausted.”

  “She was exhausted!?” Peto said from the ground near the ta
ble. He wasn’t about to leap for his feet for anything except more biscuits.

  Jothan dismounted, made a quick assessment of his sleeping charge, then strode over to Asrar who handed him a plate of breakfast. But he set it down and hugged her instead.

  Mahrree felt a stab of guilt that she’d forgotten there was another husband and wife deeply worried about each other all night.

  Jaytsy stretched in her litter and sighed, her eyes still shut. “That was the most pleasant night I’ve had in a season.” She opened her eyes. “What a cozy little place here. Hi, Deck!” she said breezily.

  Deck’s mouth fell open. He glanced back at an equally surprised Mahrree, then to his wife again, not knowing how to react.

  “Is there anything to eat?” she asked. “I’m a bit hungry. I guess traveling all that way works up an appetite. Mother, you look terrible! Have you even seen your hair?”

  Mahrree stared at her, astonished.

  Jaytsy attempted to untangle herself from the net, and Deck helped her out so that he could catch her in a hug. “That’s all you have to say? ‘I’m hungry’? ‘Do you need a brush?’”

  Barb chuckled. “Yes, Jaytsy, there’s breakfast.”

  Deck gently shook Jaytsy’s shoulders. “I was so worried about you! With the storm and Thorne’s men and—”

  “Wait,” Jaytsy said, stepping out of his embrace. “Storm? And what men?”

  “You didn’t know about the storm? How could you not know about the storm?” Deck nearly shouted, but he shook that off. “Thorne didn’t even know we were up here.” His eyes became steely as he added, “He was planning to visit us today, but for what reason . . . well, I’ve chosen not to think about it.”

  “Wait a minute. You spoke to Lemuel?” Jaytsy paled.

  “No,” Deck said. “That was what he was yelling at us.”

  “What?” Jaytsy was more befuddled than her husband. “He was yelling at you, but you didn’t speak to him?”

  Deck squinted. “We didn’t see him until the end.”

  “So why would he be yelling at you? This makes no sense!”

  Peto sighed in exasperation from the stone where he was inhaling another plate of potatoes. “You two are ridiculous. Jayts, he was yelling at us when he was killing Shem.”

  Jaytsy’s eyes widened. “NO! Uncle Shem!”

  “Is right here, right here!” Shem rushed to her side. “Honestly, you two,” he said as Jaytsy embraced him, “your marriage will be better if you learn to communicate more clearly.”

  “Said the man who never married,” announced Perrin. “Jaytsy, come sit and eat, and we can explain everything. Or at least try.”

  Barb grinned at the plate Asrar handed her. “You always manage to create the most amazing meals in the middle of the rocks. I didn’t inherit that trait, unfortunately.”

  Asrar, who first had made sure that Jaytsy had more food than three expecting women could eat, blushed a deeper brown at the compliment before she took her own breakfast.

  Peto frowned. “You’re related?”

  “Everyone is, Peto.” Barb sat down at a nearby rock table. “The first line of The Writings is, ‘We are all family.’ But I know what you mean, and yes—we share the same great-grandmother, on our mothers’ sides.”

  Peto squinted at her, then at Asrar.

  “Don’t let the colors fool you,” Barb told him. “Our great-grandmother was apparently a brown right in the middle of us, and a marvelous cook. But because I can’t even flip a pancake, I became a midwife instead. Babies don’t need frequent flipping.”

  Asrar chuckled and sat by her cousin and husband. “Thank you for bringing back Jothan today, Barb. I didn’t expect to see him until this evening. What happened to Kiren?”

  “Long story. But he’ll be back up by midday meal with the others, I assume. My sister will be quite put out if he gets into trouble.”

  Peto, listening in, said, “So is Kiren related as well?”

  “My nephew,” Barb said. “My usual medical assistant, but a wanna-be scout. He sneaks off whenever he can.”

  Peto turned back to his own table to mull that over, but soon he groaned quietly about his view.

  Deck was sitting by his wife who was gobbling biscuits as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks. But he didn’t notice the crumbs on her chin or the honey on her fingers. He just kept a hand on her belly and sighed.

  “It really is a miracle, isn’t it?” he said. “This night, what we experienced, what you didn’t experience?”

  Peto was growing nauseated, not from Asrar’s cooking, but from Deck fawning over his sister. How could a solid, logical man be so soppy? Sure, Peto was glad his sister was safe. But now Deck was wrapping her long braid around his hand and kissing it?

  It was getting to him. Everything was getting to him. His eyes burned with fatigue and frustration.

  “Oh please.” He slumped on the dirt floor near Shem’s rock chair. “I’ll tell you what a real miracle would have been: being plucked up by two giant fingers from our house and set down wherever we’re going. I would call that a miracle.”

  “Peto, that’s it!” Shem exclaimed. He pivoted on his rock and planted his hands on his knees. “What’s up? You’ve had this . . . this attitude ever since I found you all in the forest. Something’s up with you, Peto. Come on. Let’s get it all out.”

  Peto steeled himself. Something was up with him? That’s was the year’s understatement! Dragged all over the forest and then through the rock . . . he was still trying to categorize every detail his foggy brain could still suck in, just in case . . . just in case . . .

  His spirits dropped to the bottom of his sore bottom. There was no way he could find his way back to Edge now. It was obvious their entire journey was designed to confuse and disorient them. Yes, well done Shem and Salem-Guarder people. I’m imprisoned here with everyone else, and headed to who knows where. And my parents sit there thinking that all is great and wonderful, along with my dopey brother-in-law and my clueless sister. This is a better trap than any incarceration cell, and Shem has the nerve to wonder what’s up?

  Peto was sure some of his acrimony was revealed in his eyes, and Shem recoiled under his stare.

  “All right,” he said slowly. “I think I see what’s going on here. Tell me, Peto: do you trust me?”

  Oh, he could answer that. Most definitely he could answer that!

  “Of course not! Why should I? I mean, I’ve known you my whole life—” Peto was fully aware that his startled parents were trying to slip in a word, but he ignored them, “—and yesterday I learned that you’ve always led a double life. Since then I’ve found myself questioning everything you ever did, everything you ever said. Something’s up? Something’s been up with you, for seventeen years!”

  “Peto!” Mahrree exclaimed, and Perrin cleared his throat in warning, while Deck and Jaytsy reeled at Peto’s forwardness.

  Shem just held Peto’s gaze.

  Barb let out a low whistle and glanced over at the Hifadhis.

  Asrar coughed politely. “I think we can afford young Mr. Shin his skepticism. After all, the many weeks we usually spend teaching about our ways was condensed into a couple of hours, and Peto heard it only second-hand from his parents.”

  As reluctant as Peto was to trust these people, he nodded once at Asrar for her recognition that all of this had been a bit much to take.

  “For all we know,” Peto railed onward, “this is the whole of Salem, right in front of us!”

  “But there were hundreds in the forest—” Mahrree began.

  “We saw only a dozen, Mother! They’ve been telling you all kinds of things, but without any evidence!”

  Perrin jumped in with, “The slash on Jothan’s hand, Peto. I caused that years ago when I was attacked—”

  “Or so you think. He could have got that scar from anything, and conveniently let you believe whatever you needed to in order to follow them into this . . . this trap!”

  There! He??
?d said it!

  Now what would they do to him for revealing their secrets? It didn’t matter. He’d stay brave and strong, in the face of their denial.

  Everyone stared at him, stunned into silence.

  “You’re right, Asrar,” Shem eventually said. “In his eyes, we haven’t done anything to earn his trust.”

  “That’s right, you haven’t!” Peto said. “Still won’t even tell us where we’re going? Or how far?”

  “Peto,” Perrin cut in, “they have their reasons—”

  “Oh, I’m sure they do!” he wailed. “I’ve heard that a few times already. ‘We have our reasons. And they’re good!’ Do we even know why they want us in Salem?”

  “Why—How—Peto,” Mahrree spluttered, “after all they’ve done for us, how can you—”

  “Demand answers?” All of his frustration from the long day and even longer night gushed out. “Why shouldn’t I? I mean, why do they want us? Maybe they need more laborers. Ever think of that? Or maybe they’re using us like Clark!”

  Perrin scowled. “Like Clark?”

  “I heard Shem in the forest!” Peto was unstoppable, ideas and fears flowing out of him like one of the rancid pools they passed in the night. “He said to take Clark to Salem because they needed fresh blood in the herds. All of these people are related,” he gestured madly to the Hifadhis and Barb, who looked more amused than alarmed. “Maybe they need new human breeding stock!”

  Barb burst out laughing at that, and the Hifadhis gently chuckled.

  Peto twitched in annoyance as Shem tried not to snort. “Oh, Peto. You have no idea, just no idea at all. Actually, you have lots of ideas, and all of them insane. You’re overly tired, I understand—”

  “Oh, no you don’t!” Peto insisted, trying to stifle a yawn. “It’s you who don’t understand—”

  Barb, who was still laughing, wiped a tear from her eyes. “You’re right, Shem. He’s hilarious! Except right now he doesn’t mean to be, I’m sure. Sorry that I’m laughing but . . . really, Peto? We’re taking your family as breeding stock? Your mother can’t have more children, your sister is already expecting, your father and brother-in-law have been spoken for, so the only one who we would be taking to Salem for breeding stock would be you. Trust me, Peto,” she looked him up and down critically, “we’re not that desperate!”

  Peto fumed as everyone in the cavern howled in laughter, even his parents. He sank further on to the floor and rubbed his head, fatigued, irritated, and now slightly humiliated.

  “All right, all right,” Shem said, gesturing to quiet everyone down. “Peto, I’m sorry. And you’re absolutely right. Not about wanting you for labor, or as a stud for Salemite women—”

  Someone snorted, likely Deck.

  “—but you’re right in that you have no reason to trust me. I’ve deceived you,” Shem admitted. “And you have every right to wonder about everything I’ve ever said and done. So tell me this: do you trust your father?”

  Peto sighed. “Is this a trick question? A Salem deception?”

  “No tricks, no deceptions. Do you trust your father?”

  “Yes, when he’s thinking clear-headedly.”

  Perrin tilted his head. “And you think I’m not.”

  “Not recently, no,” Peto admitted.

  Barb definitely whistled at that, and Mahrree stared, stunned.

  Peto sent his mother a look that said, as kindly as possible, that she hadn’t been very clear-headed lately, either.

  Shem turned to Perrin. “My friend and brother—and I call you that, because not even a real brother could be closer to me—I have deceived you for seventeen years. That’s true.”

  Shem’s earnestness was unnerving, and Peto shifted uncomfortably. Stupid saddle sores.

  “But I never did anything that I didn’t think you wouldn’t approve of,” Shem said. “I deceived you to save lives, and to keep you from taking any innocent life. Do you still trust me?”

  Perrin didn’t hesitate. “Completely. I always knew that I could trust you with anything. My brother has never failed me.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered. “So,” he turned again to Peto. “If you trust your father, and he trusts me, it can be concluded that you can trust me.”

  “Oh no,” Peto moaned. “This is going to be a debate, isn’t it? Now that we’ve left the reach of Idumea, the debating begins—”

  “Peto.”

  Shem’s seriousness caused Peto to meet his eyes, and once again he was startled by a Shem Zenos he didn’t quite know.

  “You’re too old to be cynical anymore. Your sarcasm is chipping away at what you claim to believe. Soon you’ll have nothing left. Peto, people in Idumea believe the purpose of life is to indulge yourself until you die. But I promise you that the purpose of life is to pass the Test the Creator has set. You must believe me.”

  “I know all that. I’ve been taught about the Test,” he bobbed his head to his parents who watched him intently, “and I’ve even read The Writings on my own.”

  “But you don’t believe it,” said Shem flatly.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, Peto. You don’t really believe it. In here.” Shem placed his hand on Peto’s chest. The immense weight of it pressed him into the rock behind him.

  “If you really believed it, Peto, you would humbly accept what you experienced last night, and you wouldn’t be fighting the need to roll your eyes at me. I see that twitching, right there. Everything that’s come out of your mouth since I found you has been bitter and caustic, and you have no faith in me, nor maybe in anything. But I’m telling you, if you choose not to believe what you know deep down to be true, you’ll be as callous as everyone we left behind.”

  “I believe,” Peto defended quietly. “But I just didn’t see any miracles last night.”

  Shem removed his hand. “So what did you see?”

  “You and your friends there manipulating situations,” he said. “Saying the right things, making my family believe this was their only choice, and still you won’t tell us why. And we got lucky, you’ve got to admit it. Thorne got washed away by a stray storm.”

  Perrin cleared his throat again, but Shem held up a finger. “If I may, Perrin?”

  Turning back to Peto, Shem said, “Quite a list you’ve been working on there. Manipulation? Saying the right things? And luck? That’s not what I saw last night.”

  “What a surprise,” Peto said dully. “So what did you see?”

  “Miracles, Peto. More than you realize, obviously. And I’ll tell you why we took you last night, and why we’ve said all the right things. But are you willing to hear me out?”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Are you willing to listen? Are you willing to suspend your cynicism for ten minutes and really listen to my side of the story?”

  Peto scoffed. “Oh, I’ve been waiting to hear your side of the story!”

  Shem rubbed his hands on his trousers. “I’ve never seen you quite like this before.”

  “Nor I you,” Peto said coldly. “I guess we’re both seeing things we’ve never seen before.”

  “Peto, please!” Mahrree exclaimed, but Shem held up his hand.

  “No, Mahrree. It’s all right. I’ve got this.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Peto said, making sure his every word dripped all the contempt he could wring out.

  But Shem wasn’t about to be deterred. “I get it, Peto. You think I’ve done something horribly wrong here, and I also suspect you’re trying to find a way out of all of this. I’m guessing,” he continued, “that you’ve . . . been looking for a way to rescue your family from my rescue of your family. That you think I’ve twisted situations and words to get them all the way up here, where anything could happen to them and no one in Edge or Idumea would ever know.”

  Peto’s cheeks twitched from the effort to not make them move.

  “What?” exclaimed Mahrree.

  But Shem nodded once to Peto, who knew t
hat something on his face gave him away anyway. “Glad we got that out of the way. Maybe once you finish listening to me, you’ll see things differently.

  “I told you that I saw miracles,” Shem continued in a tone that made Peto’s skin want to break out in goose bumps. “The Creator’s hand was in every incident last night, but some people will always refuse to see it. Two giant fingers could have flicked Thorne off his horse like a fly off of pie, and Lemuel would still find a way to explain it away as some ‘coincidence.’ Do you know why we came to take you last night, and not some other night?”

  “No,” Peto said shortly. “Astonish me.”

  “Challenge accepted. Peto, we planned this escape the very night your mother made Mr. Kori realize he was mistaken that public speaking would be a good career move. When she tried three weeks ago to debate the Administrators’ assistant about Terryp’s land being poisoned, and then she declared to all of Edge that the findings were a lie, we knew she was going to be in trouble. Then when your father resigned from the army that night, instead of becoming High General Shin, we realized it was time to get all of you out. We chose yesterday’s date only because I would have returned from my leave in time to make sure the eastern route was clear. But I went to Idumea instead of home, in order to spy for you. Your father didn’t tell you what I learned there, because he wanted all of you to be calm.”

  “Why?” Mahrree asked, her voice no longer calm.

  “Because by now,” Shem said to her, “Administrator Genev is in Edge with three coaches.”

  Mahrree’s eyes grew big and Perrin squeezed her hand. “And why three?” she asked.

  “One for Perrin, one for you, and one for Peto.”

  Mahrree turned gray.

  Deck wrapped a supportive arm around Jaytsy, who had gone pale as she nibbled a berry.

  Peto felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Forgetting to doubt Shem’s account, he asked, “Why were they sending coaches for us?”

  “Because after two and a half weeks of arguing, the Administrators finally passed the Ideas and Association Law, wherein a person could be tried for sedition based not on any act or crime, but based solely upon their vocal and obvious disagreement with the Administrators. Peto, the law was designed specifically to punish her.” Shem pointed at Mahrree but kept his gaze on Peto.

  Mahrree withered. “Dear Creator!”

  “And him.” Shem pointed at Perrin who closed his eyes.

  “And you,” he pointed finally at Peto, who felt as if his finger were a long knife aimed at him. “Because you lived in their house during the past year, and were subject to the influence of their ideas: guilty of their ideas by association.”

  Something deep inside told Peto it was true, all of it. He had no other evidence besides the swelling in his gut, the heat in his chest, and the impression in his mind, but he felt it: he and his parents were in grave danger.

  Shem put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “The law went into effect last night at midnight. This morning at dawn, you and your parents would have been taken, each in your own coach, and each in chains, to Idumea for trial.” He ignored the quiet weeping of Mahrree. “You would have been found guilty, Peto, and most likely incarcerated at the garrison for the rest of your life, a place much nastier than this cozy cavern. Perrin may have been given the same punishment, we’re not sure. But your mother? Gadiman started a file on her years ago when you were just a baby, simply because she wrote a letter. It escalated from there. Genev and General Thorne want her dead.”

  Shem turned when he heard the gasp.

  “I’m sorry, Mahrree. I didn’t put that too delicately, did I?”

  Mahrree had buried her face in her husband’s chest, and Perrin wrapped his arms around her.

  If Peto weren’t already on the ground, he would have been. Stupid fourth plate of potatoes, making him feel sick.

  “There is something to say about upholding the law and all that,” Shem seemed to think he should mention. “And I pledged as a soldier to uphold the decrees of the Administrators, but only to the benefit of the world as a whole. I didn’t think executing your mother would be good for everyone involved, so . . . we essentially took the law into our own hands.”

  Jaytsy sniffed, and Shem said to her, “You would have been spared. Thorne was trying to work something out. I’m not sure of his intentions for you, but I suspect Deck wasn’t part of it.”

  Jaytsy nodded sadly.

  Shem continued, “Jaytsy, when I heard you were feeling pains a couple of days ago, I began a fast asking that the Creator would stop the pains and allow you to come with us.”

  Peto heard that strange word and, despite everything, he had to ask, “What’s a fast?”

  Shem glanced back at him. “Going without food and water for a day and night to show the Creator one’s sincerity about a request.”

  “Oh,” was all he could say, feeling guilty about the fifth biscuit.

  “I knew we couldn’t leave you behind,” Shem said to Jaytsy, “not when Thorne could have access to you.”

  “And I prayed so hard to let the baby come!” Jaytsy said softly. “I couldn’t imagine why He wouldn’t give me what I wanted.”

  “And yet I knew it was not the right thing,” Deck said. “I guess I prayed against you, Jayts. Sorry.”

  Shem turned back to Peto, who was startled to find he was again the center of Shem’s lecture. “And so, for the first time in any official action since Captain Shin forced a terrified Lieutenant Karna to follow him, the army entered the forest in pursuit of a new organization of traitors.”

  Perrin kissed the top of Mahrree’s head. “And I suppose the chairman of that new organization is you!”

  Even Peto could tell his father’s timing was rotten.

  “Oh Perrin,” Mahrree wailed. “I had no idea! I know my mouth has got me into trouble before, but nothing like this! I am so sorry. Gadiman really had a file about me?”

  Perrin increased his wife-rocking. “Mahrree, Mahrree! Don’t fret and don’t worry about that file. Shem stole it and we buried it in Deck’s barn two nights ago.”

  Deck smiled slyly. “I knew you must have done more than just sit in the straw and talk. You misplaced my shovels.”

  Perrin shrugged his apology and said to his wife, “You did nothing wrong. You spoke the truth. Your mouth didn’t get us into trouble, Idumea did. In fact, it’s because of your mouth we’re finally going in the right direction, away from the world. You’ve done us a favor,” he decided.

  Mahrree nodded, but was clearly unconvinced.

  “Peto, there have been many miracles,” Shem said, because obviously there was still more to the lecture. “Had Jaytsy’s baby been born two days ago, she wouldn’t have been able to walk the many miles she did. And a newborn’s cries would have given away our position. Consider the cloud cover last night. Under two full moons you can sometimes see nearly half a mile into that forest. Last night you could see barely ten paces. We chose a night with just slivers of moons, but the Creator sent cloud cover to hide all light.”

  Peto was looking down at his hands, unable to face Shem, or the quality in his voice that made his chest burn.

  “Consider the marshes. Usually they’re low because the canals drain them. But because we had such a heavy snowpack this year, the marshes are deeper than usual. Twenty soldiers were caught when, in a normal year, their horses could have easily waded through.

  Jaytsy had pulled away from Deck’s shoulder and listened in fascination. “How many men did the captain send out?”

  “Nearly everyone, and even though he was down to about one-hundred-sixty, that still a lot,” Shem told her, and Jaytsy silently mouthed the number. He turned back to Peto. “Consider the fear of the men. Your father has trained them to ignore their fear. But on unfamiliar territory, with an angry commander they didn’t trust, they fell apart. I have no doubt that if your father were at the head of those men, they would have stood firm, found their courage, a
nd found their victims.”

  Perrin winced at the word.

  “Lastly, Peto, consider the storm—”

  Peto couldn’t meet Shem’s eyes for the pressure building in his own.

  “—Storms don’t move from west to east here. They go north to south in a westerly way. We prayed for its assistance, and it came with enough violence so that your father and I had to use none.”

  “That’s what I prayed for when you asked us to,” Perrin said quietly. “To escape without my family witnessing violence by my hand, or suffering violence by the hand of others.”

  “Think of the horses,” Shem continued. “What do horses do in a storm? Do they calmly stand in a line?”

  Peto shook his head, not trusting his voice.

  “And when lightning strikes?” Shem asked. “Do horses patiently wait, or do they whinny and buck and rear? You don’t have to answer that, because you may not know,” he added. “But I have never seen those horses so well-behaved. The Creator can cause all things, and He can calm all things. And lastly, consider that Jaytsy experienced none of the storm.”

  “It was behind us the entire way,” Jothan spoke up.

  Barb nodded. “Almost overtaking us, but it never did. Instead, it washed away our tracks. Just what we prayed for.”

  Shem turned to the Shins and Briters. “Deck, you prayed for that storm, right?”

  Deck look embarrassed. “I prayed to see Jaytsy again.”

  “Shem, didn’t you pray for the storm?” asked Perrin.

  Shem threw up his arms. “I was praying to know what was up with Peto! I could tell he was furious, but I didn’t know why.”

  Mahrree raised her hand. “Well, I prayed for the storm.”

  “Ah, there we go!” Shem said. “Thank your mother for that one.”

  Peto almost smiled. Almost. He hadn’t prayed at all.

  “There’s one thing more,” Perrin said, so quietly that Peto almost missed it. “About that storm, son. As we listened to Thorne bellow in the dark, I heard another voice.” He paused, and Peto looked up to see him genuinely unsure.

  But Shem nodded. “Go ahead. I think we all need to hear this.”

  Perrin cleared his throat. “It was a quiet and calm voice, but with enormous power, and it seemed to come from inside of me. It said that the storm was moving in and that there’d be a strike of lightning behind us to separate us from danger. I was told to line up the horses so they’d run in the correct direction. It was a simple solution, but it wasn’t mine. I was planning a scenario far more complex.”

  Peto noticed a level of emotion not normally associated with the former colonel.

  “That was the Creator I heard, wasn’t it, Shem?” Perrin asked.

  Shem smiled, a tear trickling down his cheek. “Not for the first time do I find myself envying you, Perrin.”

  Peto knew Shem was addressing him again, but he couldn’t focus on anything else except a crack in a rock, and that had gone runny.

  “Peto, in Salem no one will force you to believe anything. You can doubt all you want. But it’ll be very hard for you to deny or imagine away what you’re feeling right now. That tightness in your chest, those tears in your eyes—yes, I see them, no sense pretending they’re not there—are the Creator’s ways of smacking you upside the head. You can still choose to be cynical and see only coincidences. But I choose to see miracles. And I’d much rather live in a world full of miracles than in one filled with random chances.”

  Shem crouched next to him and placed his hand on Peto’s chest again, flooding him with heat. “Right there, you feel it. Don’t ever forget what the Creator has done for you—for you—today.”

  “I won’t,” was all Peto could whisper.

  “This wasn’t your plan, was it?” Shem said.

  Startled, Peto looked up at him.

  “You had another plan, and that’s what made you so frustrated. You couldn’t see it through. Knowing you, it was noble, intent on saving your parents and restoring everything as it was.”

  Peto’s chin wobbled.

  “You may have even been a hero,” Shem suggested, “which is the end goal of every teenage boy, I think. But Peto, it wasn’t the Creator’s plan. He wants something even more for you. And when you find out what it is, you’ll look back on this day with relief and gratitude. Do you believe me? Do you trust me?”

  The air was so thick with . . . well, Peto wasn’t entirely sure, but it was nearly palpable.

  And it was also Relf Shin, sitting again beside him.

  Later a remnant of cynicism in his brain would say, Oh, of course Grandfather waited until the last moment to show up.

  But Relf’s message was undeniable: You’re in the right place, son, going to the right place. And you’re traveling with all of us.

  The best Peto could manage was a whispered, “I’m trying to trust you.”

  “Trying is enough,” Shem whispered back.

  Eventually a quiet voice broke the reverent silence, and Jaytsy sounded apologetic as she asked, “Shem, exactly when did Thorne kill you? I think I missed that part.”

  Chapter 8--“Of knowing the world

  will never find you again.”