Into the Stone Land (9 page)

“Your accent. You speak my words. Are you a speaker by trade?”

“Sit before you collapse.” Not waiting for a response, the man pushed Tall into a chair. He shook his head. “A speaker? Ha! I see the old one has barely prepared you.”

“Old one?” Tall removed his pack. It settled to the floor with a heavy thunk. He glanced around. The house was small but clean. Other than the table and a few chairs there wasn't much furniture. There was a kitchen, a fireplace. A stairs led up to what Tall assumed must be a loft.

The man sighed. “Your smoot, boy.”

“Not a boy,” Tall said, “A man. I've just journeyed from the place lost and deep. Bonded with my life's mates and gone beyond.”

“Bonded way too many if you ask me,” the man said plainly. “It's unexpected. Never seen the likes of you. No, I haven't, and you're late. Many moons late.”

Tall could almost hear the smoot groaning as this truth spilled out like the lamp light into the dark night. But he wanted the man to like him and didn't know why. Perhaps it was because the man reminded him of his father, whom he missed.

“Not your father, Ray,” the man said. “Pay attention now. You were to arrive moons ago.”

“Oh,” Tall said with a sigh. The word slipped out before he could stop himself. The man thought he was Ray. He collected himself. “This is Wav'erh'n, Third Village?”

“It is,” the man said. “But you're not Ray, are you? So who are you?”

“I'd have thought you'd have known who I was.”

The man leaned across the table, wagging an accusing finger. “I'd be careful. Might be you're in something and might be—” The man stopped mid-sentence, pushed himself back from the table as if stung.

“I'm Tall, son of Dent the woodcrafter. Third Village, Nahterh'n,” Tall said quickly, afraid of what would happen next.

“Haven't been in Nahterh'n in an age.” The man shifted around the table, twisted Tall around as if trying to get a closer look. His mouth fell open as he looked down.

“They're gone again, aren't they?” Tall said. He didn't need to look down, he knew. His feet were gone, disappeared into the other place. He put his hands in his face and moaned just as Tag'Erh jumped up and pinned him to the table with his front paws. The man now knew the things the smoot seemed to not want anyone else to know. Tall would have cried, but the man started rifling through his pack, and this irritated him. “Take whatever you want. Not like I've a use for it if you're going to kill me now.”

“Ha!” the man said. He turned Tall's pack upside down and dumped its contents onto the floor. Tall squirmed in his seat. Tag'Erh held him firmer. The man asked, “Where is it?”

Tall struggled to turn his head so he could look at the man. “Where's what?”

Angry, the man kicked the pack goods across the floor. “You've all the signs of the addiction. Where is it?”

“Signs? Addiction?”

The man turned on Tall. His eyes were wild, full of longing. “The seeds, the seeds. I smell them on you, but I don't see them.”

Tall did his best to look confused. “I need help.”

“Can't fool me. I know. They're here. Somewhere.”

“I need help,” Tall repeated.

The man suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing. He collected himself. At the snap of his fingers, Tag'Erh backed down. “Forgive me. Should be able to, but can't always. Sometimes still it takes me. Like it will take you.”

Relief was so sweet a nervous laugh escaped Tall's lips. He was about to speak a thank you. There was a flash in the man's eyes. Then the man almost begged, “Check your pockets. Not a one. Sure?”

Tall tried to flee. Tag'Erh moved to stop him, but he was already stopping himself. He had run from the smoot because he was afraid. He was afraid now but not in the same way or for the same reasons. “Help me.” It was a final plea. “I was told to seek this village, and you expected me. Are we allies or foes?”

“Want me for an ally? Suppose you'll be telling me that you'll free me once you've the knowhow. Ha!” The man snorted. “Need to learn to pick and choose better. For all you know I'm in league with the wizard and it's he who's tethered me here.”

Tall swallowed hard. “Are you in league with the wizard?”

Thwack! The man slammed his open hand into the table. “Wouldn't need to say it, if I was. Would I?”

Tall blinked at the man, trying to decide.

The man answered for him. “I wouldn't. You'd be dead instead. Did your smoot teach you nothing?”

Tall tried to speak.

“Not meant for answering,” the man said. “Your problem is hastiness. If I'd've been hasty, I'd've left this place, and you'd've arrived to find nothing.

Not what happened, is it? Your smoot bade me to wait each time the moon was just so. I did, though in truth I grew weary of it. But finally it is, and as much as I dared hope for.”

Tall dared to hope too. He looked down at the place where his feet should be, but they were still gone.

The man twisted Tall around in the chair. “A matter of focus. Already done the impossible. What only one other before has ever done. And I am he.”

“Impossible.” It was a simple word. It escaped Tall's lips before he could stop it. But it was an important word.

“Possible,” the man said. “Very possible. Just as I know you know the smoot's secret, I know this.”

“The smoot has no secrets.”

The man clapped his hands, and Tag'Erh curled at his feet. “Oh but he does, doesn't he. You saw, couldn't help but see, as I saw too. Maybe though, you'll succeed where I failed. Tall, I'm Ehzrit. You must know of me.”

“The only…” Tall's voice trailed off. The only Ehzrit he knew of was long since dead.

“Not dead, undead,” Ehzrit said. “I crossed over, managed to cross back, but this is what I am now. Undying, you could think of it as well. Blessing, curse. You decide. I have.”

“Crossed over? You're an otherworlder?”

The man, Ehzrit, inched closer. He stretched out both hands, slammed Tall's head against the table top. A gash opened in Tall's forehead. Tall bled. Blood ran into his eyes. He tried to wipe it away, but to his horror couldn't do it fast enough.

Ehzrit pushed Tall's hands away, held them down even though Tall fought to free himself. “Let it bleed. A blooding gives focus. Focus is needed to return. Have to want to return though.”

“I don't want to go to that place.” A chill ran down Tall's spine. He stopped struggling. “Never that place.”

“Know enough to be afraid. That's good. Should be afraid. Should be very afraid.” The man got a faraway look in his eyes. “What that place'd do to a boy like you. Best not to think about.”

Tall swallowed hard. That place was the only thing he could think about now. Blood from his head pooled on the table. Pain made his eyes water, but he managed to stop the tears.

Ehzrit pounded a fist on the table. Blood splattered the walls. Tag'Erh lapped up the blood with his great, pink tongue. “You think me cruel,” Ehzrit said. “But this is a kindness. You'll know this for truth soon enough. The wizard, I expect, will teach you real cruelty. Maybe he has taught Ray the same already—if you aren't he, that is.”

“I'm not Ray,” Tall said firmly.

“So you've said. But your smoot bade me to wait for Ray.”

Tall stood abruptly. “So wait for Ray. I'm sure he'll be along.”

“Doubtful,” Ehzrit said. “In my day, an impudent boy like you would've been taken out to the square and shown his place in front of everyone. Does the arbor even bother to know the name of the likes of you, I wonder.”

“The tree knew Keene at the last, as the tree will know me,” Tall answered angrily.

“Not if you become like me. The tree will unknow you then.” Ehzrit sighed. “Tell me. Were there many 12-winter boys this year?”

“Well, there was Ephramme and Isaac, Ray, me, and Keene.”

“And?” Ehzrit said.

“Ephramme is learning the speaker's trade now, and Isaac's gone to Second Village to win a bride. He's unlikely to, though, and if you ever got a look at him you'd know why. Ray is gone and I've to find him. And Keene, well, he died to save me. He should be the one here with you now and not me.”

Tag'Erh looked up, straight at Tall. His eyes had a kind of fierceness to them. Ehzrit smirked. “Thank you for sharing that. It's interesting to hear about village life again. Look down.”

Tall did. He saw his feet, wiggled his toes in his boots to warm them. He started to say that he had done it without the scatter seed, but thought better of it.

“Pain and passion can both do the impossible.” Ehzrit drew a line with his finger across Tall's forehead, causing Tall to wince and groan, but no sooner had he done so than he realized the pain was gone. “Use them correctly and they'll never fail you. Remember, it takes heart.”

Tall touched a hand to his forehead, found the wound was gone.

“Wizard's magic?” Tall asked.

“Ha!” Ehzrit said. Daybreak. Ehzrit saw it in the window at the same time Tall did. “You've to leave now, before the dawn.”

“But you're supposed to help me,” Tall protested.

“I've already.” Madly, Ehzrit pushed Tall's gatherings back into his pack. Seeing this made Tall feel like he'd done or said something wrong. Of course, Ehzrit hadn't been exactly what he'd call hospitable, but he couldn't imagine why he must leave so suddenly. There was a man in his village, one of Ephramme's uncles, that everyone thought of as hasty and ill-mannered. He didn't much like other people, and others treated him much the same.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Tall said.

Ehzrit puckered his brow. Tag'Erh strutted in front of the door. There was a worn path where his claws had scraped the floor raw. “Your horse is close. Ride out of here, quickly. Take them others with you. Do it before the town awakens.”

Tall tried to say that he couldn't ride Lucky, but Ehzrit was already pushing him out the door and up onto Lucky's back. “Now get,” Ehzrit said, “This road leads to Adalayia. Find Ray. This one will help you.” He swatted Lucky's hindquarters and Lucky shot out of the village like a stone from a sling.

Chapter 9: The City

The dawning sun had only just become a full, fiery ball when Tall, on Lucky's back, reached the outskirts of the Outlander city. He knew at once this was Adalayia, not because he'd ever seen it with his own eyes, but because he'd drawn it from dream. In the dream, Ray was crossing the lake that surrounded the city in a floating container called a boat —or so the smoot had named it. An outlander girl of an age with Ray was in the boat as well, and beside them was a footed slither, a rare occurrence but a natural one. Most unnatural, though, were the flying things: a beast that was neither buzzer nor like any flyer he'd ever seen, and the floating fells. Fells were air mountains—or so the smoot said.

“A messenger! A messenger!” The cry went out from a tower. Ehzrit's words were like a haunting melody that he couldn't rid his mind of as he clung to Lucky's neck and mane for dear life. Terrified was a word for what he felt as the wind rushed by. Exhilarated, another.

Tall was crossing a bridge over the lake and into the city proper before he realized it. An outsider man in the street stepped aside and shouted, “Make way for the messenger!”

Tall gulped air, held on as Lucky's hooves skidded around on the cobbled stones. An outsider woman carrying a laden basket nearly dropped the basket into the street as she fled from the sight of him. A few of the large round gatherings spilled down the way. Lucky trampled them.

The street teed before a pair of stone towers. All Tall could do was gawk at them as Lucky broke right. Rather than run smack into a man in billowy white robes, Lucky skidded to a halt. Tall struck the street with a thud and rolled. His pack hit the street too, before flying off in the opposite direction.

The man, more anxious than annoyed, helped Tall to his feet. He returned Tall's pack. Then he bent his body forward from the waist, almost doubling over. “I am Nolhan, Messenger, forgive me.”

Tall started, stared. He looked where Nolhan's body was pointing, then from Nolhan to Lucky. Nolhan was clearly talking not to him, but to Lucky. Tall meant to apologize, but Nolhan reached out and pulled Tall down, forcing him to take a knee.

Tall reached out. Nolhan spat in his direction. If looks could kill, this man's would. “Lowborn.” It was a curse. “Don't ever touch. If you weren't with the messenger, I'd beat you myself. As it is, I'll have my servants do it.”

Lucky didn't seem to like this at all. He whinnied and reared.

Nolhan took Tall's arm in a viselike grip. “This one says to give you lodging, feed, and water. I'll do it but I don't have to like it.”