There Comes A Prophet (12 page)

They divided the load between them. The heaviest items, the hatchet, water skins and dried meat went into Nathaniel's pack. He was stronger after all and for once had won the debate.

At last they were set to go, with nothing left but to wait for Thomas, who'd insisted on seeing them off. The two lingered, taking turns touching the Not Tree, realizing they were about to do more than leave Little Pond. They were about to leave their youth.

There was a crashing in the woods. Thomas stumbled into the clearing, grinning foolishly and breathing out steam. He lugged a pack as big as theirs, but since he was the smallest, it appeared larger. He apologized between breaths.

"Sorry. Haven't got used to this thing. It caught on a branch."

Orah and Nathaniel spoke as one. "What are you doing, Thomas?"

He forced a look of surprise. "You didn't think I'd let you go without me."

Orah collected herself first. "You have no idea what this is about."

"I know you're going on a trip. I know you're bringing lots of supplies. And I know it's something the vicars won't like. It's perfect."

"This isn't a game, Thomas. It's too risky. You can't come."

"I won't let you abandon me. I'll follow and you can't stop me."

"For the last time," she said. "Go home."

Orah turned to Nathaniel for support, but he could only think how desolate Thomas had been at festival, and how the spirit had returned to him now.

Orah read his thoughts. "Don't you dare, Nathaniel."

"You're coming. How's that different?"

She straightened and lifted her chin. "I was with you in Temple City."

"He's been there too and suffered more than either of us."

"There's no way I'll agree to this. If you follow, Thomas, I'll make your life miserable."

Thomas smiled. "I've been made miserable by the vicars. You can't hold a candle to them."

She snorted, then hoisted her pack and signaled Nathaniel to do the same. As she turned to go, Thomas blocked her way. The grin was gone.

"You can't deny me."

"Why not?" she howled.

Thomas's lip began to tremble. "I thought I'd never see you again. I knew you wouldn't give in as I did. You'd never tell. But I gave them both your names. I'm ashamed, and helping you is the only way I can make up for it. Besides, when the two of you go missing, they'll come take me for the second teaching. I won't be left behind."

Nathaniel gave Orah time, knowing her, knowing how she'd decide. At last her arms went limp, and she nodded.

Nathaniel slapped Thomas on the back and sealed the agreement.

"Pact of the Ponds."

Orah opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he reminded her of the rule.

"No debate after the pact's been declared."

Thomas squeezed between them to form a circle, covered his heart with his right hand and thrust his left into the center. Nathaniel did the same, gripping Thomas's wrist and then waiting for Orah.

She gave in, sealing the pact, but insisted on the last word.

"So be it, against my judgment. We're now three seekers. And may the light protect us."

The Seekers

"The beginning of wisdom is found in doubting; by doubting we come to the question, and by seeking we may come upon the truth."

Pierre Abelard

Flight

Orah maintained a furious pace, leaving Thomas lagging behind. She kept to trails they'd explored as children, winding paths most adults had forgotten. When she finally stopped, Thomas took a full minute to catch up. He staggered forward and collapsed on a log, apologizing between breaths.

"I'll do better, Orah, I promise. How much farther do we have to go?"

Why did he have to come?

She had no choice but to help Nathaniel. How could she leave him to bear the risk alone? But now she had to watch out for Thomas as well.

"We let you join us," she said. "Isn't that enough?"

Nathaniel set down his pack between them. "It's a reasonable question, Orah. Time to tell where we're going."

She heaved a sigh. They'd always expected her to have answers. They believed she was the leader. But it was only an act, perfected when they were little. And now she'd been drawn into this reckless venture, so counter to her nature. She was a weaver, and weavers took no risks. The flax never failed, and the people always needed cloth. Nathaniel was the brave one, charging into Temple City. On her own, she'd never take such a chance.

With the sole of her boot, she brushed away leaves and smoothed the dirt into a circle, then found a stick to draw with. Her friends huddled behind.

"Here's Little Pond." She made a mark on the ground. "Three days east is what we've been calling Temple City, the place so recently host to us all. From what the old prisoner told Nathaniel, the Temple has set up a grid, north to south and east to west, with other Temple Cities each responsible for everyone within a three days' walk. From that we can conclude they're located, here, here and here."

She scratched in the letters "TC" to the east, north and south of the first Temple City, and paused to be sure they were following.

"The shopkeeper in Great Pond told me his wife travels to Adamsville twice a year to visit family. He said it's a five-day walk as the crow flies but takes six because you have to loop around to the south of the Ponds. We know there are five ponds following a crescent to the southeast."

She sketched in the ponds, starting at Little Pond and continuing southeastward.

"I asked if Adamsville was so far from Temple City they never see a vicar. He said no, they see a vicar more frequently, because he comes from a different place just a day away. So Adamsville must be to the southeast and about a day northwest of the lower Temple City. That places it here."

She carved an 'x' and checked to see if they were impressed. They were.

"One last thing. The main roads follow the grid." She drew connecting lines between the Temple Cities. "I think it's best we avoid them."

Thomas contemplated his tired feet and wiggled his toes. "Are you sure we have to? It'll make the trip harder."

Sure? She wasn't sure of anything. Since the day the grand vicar had called her name, her life had spun out of control. And now she was racing through the woods toward light knows where. They'd always expected her to have answers, but never before had the answers mattered so much.

"I'm not sure of anything, Thomas. I only said I thought it was for the best."

She glanced from one to the other. Now that they were away from Little Pond, she was beginning to realize how rash this undertaking might be. There'd be a number of decisions to make on this journey with no clear answers. She had only the slightest hint of the power of the Temple. Next to it, they might turn out to be fools instead of seekers.

Please think kindly of me, Nathaniel, and on this journey, forgive me the mistakes I'll surely make.

"Orah's right," Nathaniel said, as if he'd read her mind. "We'll avoid the main roads. We can follow a route to the southeast, using the sun for direction and cut through the woods when necessary."

Orah nodded in gratitude, then erased the drawing with her boot, making certain to leave no trace.

***

For the first couple of days, Orah found well-marked trails, but by the start of the third day, they were forced into the woods. She tried following gullies formed by rainfall, but they often led her astray and she had to double back. Afraid of wandering too far off course, she had them scrambling over downed trees and through thick brush. By nightfall, they'd spent much of the day travelling in the wrong direction.

They camped at the closest thing they could find to a clearing. When she awoke the next morning, she was stiff from the uneven ground and sore with scratches from the prior day's trek. Moreover, when she shared her ailments, she discovered the others had slept fitfully as well. The gravity of their undertaking was sinking in, and an overcast sky offered no consolation.

If only they could keep a straight line, they'd eventually emerge from the woods. Sure enough, after a few more hours of thick brush, the vegetation thinned and she saw a break in the trees. It had to be a road.

But as they came within view, she heard voices-the gruff sound of men cursing and laughing. She signaled for them to drop to the ground and peered through the underbrush.

Deacons.

She stayed low, clawing dried leaves as she grasped for the soil beneath. With her head down, the smell of decay filled her nostrils. She hugged the earth until the clamor passed. Even when Nathaniel encouraged her-certain the deacons had gone-she remained frozen in place, trying to convince her heart to beat normally again.

Her first mistake-underestimating the Temple of Light.

"They're looking for us."

"But it's too soon," Nathaniel said. "We couldn't possibly be expected back yet."

"We were fools, Nathaniel. They never trusted us. They sent people to watch Little Pond. Had we lingered a day longer, we'd have been caught in flight."

Thomas sat on the ground, clutching his legs and rocking back and forth. Nathaniel rose to one knee and surveyed the road, then turned to Orah.

"You were right to keep us off the main roads. From now on, we avoid all roads in daylight. From now on we think about everything differently."

Orah stood and brushed herself off. "There may be others. We need to keep moving. Once we're three days from the near Temple City, I think we'll be safe. The next city won't know about us yet. Even the vicars can't send word that far, that fast."

Thomas released his knees as if trying to let the blood flow back into his arms. "Are you sure this time, Orah?"

"No, Thomas. I said I think we'll be safe." She looked at him with resignation. "We've left 'sure' behind."

***

They arrived in Adamsville on the seventh day, covered with the dust of the road. As they passed through the outskirts, Orah felt more vagabond than seeker, with everyone she passed staring at her. But once the clay road turned to the gravel of the merchant district, everything changed. People seemed more accustomed to strangers and scurried about, lost in their own affairs.

While not as grand as Temple City, the town was several times the size of Great Pond. Where Great Pond had one road with a few stores and an inn, Adamsville was crisscrossed with streets teeming with commerce. Most of the buildings were two stories high - unheard of in the Ponds - with a storefront below and a residence above. And there was one other difference. All buildings in the Ponds were made of wood. Those of Adamsville were constructed of brick. To Orah, everything seemed tall and exceedingly solid.

Suddenly, she heard a new sound-boots crunching on the stony surface. Nathaniel swung his arm like a gate to stop her. From around a corner, she saw four deacons parading abreast. Their black uniforms were spotless, and the stars on their chests flashed in the sunlight. They paused at a post between buildings. The tallest unfurled a scroll and held it taut to the post, while a second nailed it down. Then they reformed and marched off.

Once they were gone, the three reemerged. Nathaniel wanted to head in the opposite direction, but Orah insisted on reading the posting. The paper bore the block lettering of the Temple. On the top, in bold, it said "Temple Bulletin." The first section listed minor infractions committed by the locals, urging them to trim their hair, dress properly and eat only sanctioned foods. But it was the second part that raised bumps on her skin.

Her lips moved silently as she read. When she finished, she signaled the others to follow as she ducked between buildings.

The worry on her face spread to Thomas. "What did it say?"

"There's a list of people they're searching for... with descriptions."

"And we're on it?"

"No, it's only vagrants and people traveling without permits. I told you word can't be sent that fast. Adamsville is controlled by a different Temple City."

"I'd feel better if you were more certain of that."

Orah whirled on him. "It's not my fault you're here."

Nathaniel wrapped an arm around each of them and lowered his head so he could whisper.

"But we are here, Orah, and it's time to tell where we're going. We shouldn't be lingering in the open. Where do we find the next keeper?"

At least she knew this answer. "But isn't it obvious?"

"Not to me. There are no mountains here."

"They're not mountains, Nathaniel. They're spindles. The symbol of the three spindles is the sign of a yarn store. Our second keeper, if he exists, is a spinner."

She watched Nathaniel reassess the symbol in his mind. When he was convinced, he stepped out from their hiding place.

"In that case, let's find this spinner and get off the streets."

The Spinner

Round the corner, above the doorway of a two-story brick building, Nathaniel spotted it: a brass symbol that matched the image on the scroll. But now so near, he was plagued by doubts. What if the chain had been broken? What if the keep itself was an illusion?

He waited, searching for answers in the building. White curtains and a flower box marked the upper floor as lodging. The store was on the ground level, with a window large enough to display an impressive pyramid of yarn. Through the glass, he could make out a shopkeeper stacking spindles behind the counter.

Orah stared in as well. "What if he's not the owner? We should be certain before we blurt out the pass phrase."

"Does he look he look like an owner?"

She shifted sideways to avoid the glare and peered inside.

"Too proud to be a laborer, too old to be an apprentice. But I can't be sure."

"You've dealt with spinners. Maybe if you went inside and pretended to bargain."

She considered a moment and nodded. After patting the dust from her clothing and checking her hair in the reflection of the window, she marched into the shop with Nathaniel and Thomas trailing behind.

The storekeeper was older than he appeared through the window. He moved with difficulty, using an unusual walking stick with a mallard's head carved into its handle. As he shuffled about with his back to them, placing spindles on shelves, Nathaniel noted his left leg hardly bent at the knee.