The Witches of Ne'arth (The Star Wizards Trilogy Book 2) (16 page)

“Why would someone build a bridge to a place there is no road?” Carrot asked.  “And see this dark bar that is parallel to the southern bank of the river, that runs the entire length of the river?  Mirian spoke of a Monstrous Hedge that prohibits entry into the Land of the Trolls.”

“Hold on.  A
monstrous
hedge?”

“Her choice of word.”

Carrot swiped the view north.  No roads, no villages.  Having grown up among farms, Carrot knew the look of arable land.  It was inconceivable that no one had placed such prime fields under cultivation. 

“Matt, you've mentioned that your satellite views of the Other Side have been altered to conceal what is over there.  Is it possible that the same has been done for the northwest of Britan?”

Matt inquired, and after conducting a photo analysis of archived telemetry, Ivan replied in Carrot's hearing, “Pixelation anomalies confirm an augmented reality overlay.”

“In other words – “ Matt began.

“It
is
the Land of the Trolls!” Carrot exclaimed.  “And the Pandora of Britan resides there!”

“Isn't that a
little
bit of a leap?  Also, assuming there is a land filled with hairy giants and that they want to stay hidden, wouldn't it be much better to go there in force, than just the three of you?  Krobart wants the airship, and he needs me to work on it, so I do have some influence with him.  If you wait, I might be able to persuade him to send an armed escort along with you.”

“Krobart will never consent to anything having to do with me,” she murmured with conviction. 

“How do you know that?”

“He regards me as a rival.  That is easy enough to tell.”

“Still, if we ask for an escort, the worst he can do is turn you down.”

“No, he can also attempt to stymie our plans by ordering me confined to base.  Also, Matt, is an armed escort really a good idea for approaching the people of a strange land?  What would you do if a small army came to the border of your land?  Would you not feel threatened?  No, Matt.  It is safer that it should be only the three of us.”

“At least, let's plan this thing.  I can give you another partition – “


No.”
  Immediately, she retracted her hand from his forehead.  “It is best that we leave as soon as possible, before anyone tries to stop us.”

Matt pleaded while Carrot only became more insistent – if only because she knew that his pleading was wearing her down and she would give in before much longer.  Finally, he sighed in resignation and they embraced and kissed in farewell.  She didn't want to leave his arms, and both of them started to breathe heavily, and Carrot did not know what they might have done if she had not known that a mutant with superior senses was listening and scenting a few paces away.

“I must go,” she said in a soft whisper.  With a peck as the final kiss, she departed the supply hut without looking back.  She said to Norian and Mirian, “Let's go.”

They returned to the Oksiden Road and headed west.  The sun beat on their back and ahead loomed a vista of mountain peaks already dusted with late-autumn snow.  Carrot recalled the first time she had seen the mountains of the west, when she had climbed a tree to view a fireball that had scratched a finger of smoke across the sky.

Father tells me that I have destiny
, she thought. 
Yet there are no signs and prophecies about me
.

As the morning wore on, Mirian chatted to give competition to the chirping of the birds.  She seemed to be winning.  Whereas the birds exhausted their conversation with mating calls and territorial claims, Mirian's topical range seemed randomly infinite.  Norian's contributions were largely limited to yes, no, and various grunts.  Carrot nibbled in silence, barely listening, trying to visualize the aerial map but seeing Matt's face instead. 

With the coming of afternoon, they chose a clearing by the road and settled for lunch.  As the combination of clear weather and steady exertion made them warm, they did not bother with a fire.  Carrot shared Layal's cold roast while Norian poured childwine.  Mirian was quiet while she ate.  However, she ate very fast.   

“Carrot!” Mirian said.  “Norian has explained to me, but I'm sure he got it wrong because what he said makes so little sense.  Are we truly seeking 'The Box That Everything Came In?'”

“It is the Box of myth and fable that we seek,” Carrot replied. 

Matt,
she thought
.  It seemed every time their relationship went to a new level, they were forced apart. 
It isn't fair!

“Then explain what I've wondered since I first heard the tale as a child.  How can all the plants and animals of the world have fit inside a chest one meter by half and half?”

“DNA,” Carrot replied.   

Well, it was
her
choice to rush on this journey.  It could have waited a couple more days.  They had been waiting all summer to act, a couple more days would have made no –  


Dee-enna
,” Norian supplemented. “You see, Mirian, the Box did not carry from Aereoth the plants and animals themselves.  Rather only their
dee-enna
, which are invisibly tiny snakes that – “

“Norian!”  Mirian sighed.  “I don't want to hear from you again about the tiny snakes.  I want the girlfriend of the Wizard to explain in the Wizard's own words.”

We need to get this silly quest over
, Carrot decided.  Then she and Matt would have time to work out their feelings toward one another . . . .

“Perhaps your questions can wait, Mirian,” Norian said.  “Carrot seems preoccupied.”

“Hmm, I wonder by what.  Norian, being led by a child is never wise, and we're being led by one who is lovesick.”

“She is quite practical in tactic and strategy.  You'll see.”

Matt, Matt, Matt . . . .
 

By late afternoon, they reached the turn north, abandoning the Oksiden Road for the dirt path seen on satellite telemetry.  There Carrot encountered a revelation that had been concealed from the Wizard's eye in the sky.  Beneath the dirt and weeds were fragments of pavement.   

“This path was once a true road,” Carrot said.

“Yes,” Mirian said.  “According to the very aged, the Kaden Road was once as well-built and well-traveled as the Oksiden Road.”

“It appears to have fallen into disrepair,” Carrot said.   

“More than that,” Mirian replied.  “It was destroyed.  Broken by heavy stones dropped from high platforms mounted on carts.  You can see the results.  They were quite thorough.”

“Who were these 'they?'”

“Many of those who live along the road.  Some in our village helped, and no one stopped them.”

“Why would anyone destroy a perfectly good road?”

“All of us who live along the road have no reason to ask why.  We see that with each year, more and more people come from the east, some to trade and visit, many to stay and settle.  We know in time they will outnumber us, and attempt to take our lands from us.”

“That seems excessively fearful.”

“Does it?  Norian says that you are from the other side of the Dark Forest.  Who do the farms there belong to now?  A certain people from the east, I've heard.” 

Carrot decided to change the subject.  “You say that the road was called 'Kaden?'”

“Yes.  Have you heard the name?” 

“I have not.”  Still, Carrot had a feeling that she had, somehow. 

As was the intent of the road destroyers, foot traffic indeed fell off as they continued north.  The lack of traffic was likely enhanced by the weather, which worsened as afternoon came.  An overcast blanketed the sky, chilling the air, and the position of the sun became indefinite, though the diminished light told that evening was coming. 

As droplets started to fall, they spotted strands of smoke in the distance that proved from an inn.  Their funds were low but as the drizzle intensified, they voted to go inside and have dinner. 

Their cloaks dried by the fire and they ate from the buffet and seated at a corner table.  Norian and Carrot got into a conversation about catapults.  Norian became excited when Carrot told him about the rocketry that Archimedes had developed. 

They heard the heavy patter of raindrops upon the rafters and voted to stay until morning.  Norian went to speak with the innkeeper while Mirian silently poked at her food.

Then she announced, “He's no good with money, I'll rescue him before he negotiates our life savings.” 

Carrot was by herself.  Not for long.  A man sitting alone at another table nodded at her and raised his mug in toast.  She smiled back.  He came over and sat down.

“''Ulla,” he slurred.   

“Hello,” Carrot said, forcing a smile.

“Quite,
koooo-wite
. . . comely.”  He pointed a wobbling finger.  “You are.”

She held her breath from the reek of his.  “Well, thank you.”

Norian and Mirian returned.  Mirian asked Carrot, “Who's your little friend?”

Carrot instantly realized from Mirian's smirk that she had blundered.  This conviction was intensified as the man draped a hand across Carrot's shoulder, while sweeping his eyes over Mirian's form.

“I think you'd best leave,” Norian said stonily.  He touched his hilt. 

The man stared, then grumbled and staggered off. 

Mirian eyed Carrot. “I suppose you thought that when I said you were 'uptight,' I meant you should throw yourself at every man you meet.”

Carrot dropped her jaw.  No words came out.

“Mirian,” Norian said quietly. 

Mirian held her tongue and they went to lodging.

It was dry and clear in the morning.  They resumed their trek along the north road, with few obstacles other than puddles.  They were, however, big puddles, and in places the road was impassable without having to traipse through muck.  One did not appreciate a paved road, Carrot thought, until one had to do without it. 

Later in morning, Mirian's spirited conversation of the day before grew quiet, and her expression became somber.  Over a rise they glimpsed a village tucked within a copse of trees, and Norian's expression became as solemn as that of his wife.

“Is there something about that place?” Carrot asked.  “Do you sense danger?”

“More of a dread,” Norian replied.  “Mirian, do you want to stop?  I mean, of course you don't
want
, but – should we?”

Mirian murmured,  “I suppose we should.”

They diverted from the main trail and followed the winding, narrow path that led to the village.  As the travelers neared, people emerged from the huts.  They were all slender, light-haired, blue-eyed – and pointed-eared.

A middle-aged woman came forward, unsmiling.  Mirian stared at the ground. 

“So, you've returned,” the woman said.

“Hello, Mother,” Mirian replied.

“I see you've brought human friends.”

Children stared open-eyed and clutched their parents.  Their parents pushed them behind.

Mirian gestured.  “You know Norian.”

“Norian.”  The woman bowed, only slightly.

“Hinela,” Norian said, bowing deeply.

“This is Carrot.”  Mirian flopped an arm. 

Cold eyes set upon Carrot.  “What a strange name for a person.”

“She fought with me in the Battle of the Dark Forest,” Norian said. 

“We've no use for battles here.”  Hinela glanced at her daughter.  “I will speak to Mirian privately.”

All but pinching Mirian's arm, Hinela dragged her away.  They spoke so low that Carrot's hearing could pick only a few words.  The tone in Hinela's voice was clear enough.

“You bring them into our village . . . what would your father say . . . your sister has to do all the chores . . . disgrace to our family . . . no intention of settling down . . . you never visit, and now this . . . .”

Mirian's part of the conversation was to mutter, “Yes, Mother,” and “Mother, I – “ 

Norian whispered to Carrot,  “I didn't mention that you were the one who led us in the battle, for I didn't think she would believe me and that would only make matters worse.”

“I took no offense.”  Carrot didn't think that Hinela would have been impressed anyway.

A spiritually-dampened Mirian shuffled in return.  “She has offered hospitality.”

Norian replied, “We've no need of hours of silence and glares over food intentionally miscooked.”

“I agree, Norian, but what do I say?”

“Tell her that as your husband, I
insist
we must be on our way and have given you no choice.”

Mirian mouthed silently, “
Thank you
,” and went to 'reluctantly' inform her mother. 

They returned to the road and for several kilometers Mirian trudged in silence.  Eventually Norian's prodding revived her and she was as talkative as before. 

By mid-afternoon, the trail came to a fork.  Mirian stood before them, placed her arms akimbo and declared: 

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