Chapter 10

Djin adventurers do not use maps. They discover the way to all the places of the Forest by smell and by feel. They learn to recognize the shape of the land as one trail wends into a particular village, or the way a river skirts past an especially welcoming homestead. But with the job of both Way Finder and Chanter falling to him, and with the ominous presence of the Wagon now hanging above them as well, Abeni had little time to look around.

“We’re lost, aren’t we?”

It was late morning of the day after they’d left the Wagon crater. The two travelers were sitting at the side of a stream they had just forded, and Abeni was busying himself over a small fire. The Wagon stood on its runners at the crest of the river bank nearby.

“Abeni is not lost,” he said, as he raised one powerful arm to point off into the trees, without even turning his head from whatever he was doing among the embers of his fire. “The Anvil is there,” he said. “Two days’ journey from this place. No more.” But the tree cover was too thick for Tayna to confirm this.

They’d had glimpses of the Anvil, of course, and the Wagon had always seemed to be pointed straight at it when they had, but as far as she could tell, they didn’t always seem to be walking straight toward it. For some reason, Abeni was leading her along an almost drunken zig-zag path.

“So why are we wandering back and forth then?”

Abeni pulled two small bowls from the fire and set them on the ground to cool. At their first stop, he had surprised her by digging into a muddy bank with his hands and pulling out a sticky wad of clay, which he had then fashioned into bowls and baked in their camp fire. Later that day, he had paused their journey in mid-chant to collect roots and leaves and bark, which he had then placed into the Wagon’s tailbox with some obvious delight, but again he had answered all her questions with silence and a sly smile. But now she caught a faint scent on the air and her face brightened with delight.

“Boh-cho! You’re making boh-cho!” And before Abeni could even nod, Tayna snatched up one of the bowls and held it to her face with both hands, savoring the spicy aroma of the Djin traveler’s brew.

There had been some roasted beet-like things, on the first day, and the two of them had eaten their fill of the tough little roots, breaking the long fast that had been forced on them by the Cold Shoulder, and there had been a thin leafy soup before sleep that night. But as nutritious and healthy as their diet had become, this was more than just nutrition and eight essential vitamins. This was boh-cho! And boh-cho was… civilized. Boh-cho meant they were okay. Boh-cho meant they were going to make it.

Tayna took a sip from her mug, and all the good things of the world slipped back into place, radiating outward in soothing waves from wherever the rich flavor touched her tongue.

They were only half-way through their mugs when they heard something—or someone—crashing through the bushes beyond the Wagon.

“There’s somebody there,” Tayna said, setting her bowl down and standing up to peer into the Forest. “Friend or foe? What do you think?”

Abeni moved to stand beside her, placing one hand protectively on her shoulder. “Abeni does not know,” he said, drawing her back from whatever had made the sound. “It cannot be him. Not so quickly. But the Little Fish must wait here. Abeni will learn more.” Then he dropped into a crouch and sidled his way past the Wagon, vanishing from her sight.

A few minutes later, Tayna heard more thrashing of bushes. And then a voice. “Who’s there? I warn you, come no closer! I’m, uh, very sick. My brother… no, my entire family has died from it. I’ll bet I’m going to die of it myself, very soon now. You’d best move on.”

A Wasketchin. Then she heard Abeni. “What sickness?” But Tayna just rolled her eyes.

“He’s a horrible liar!” she called out. “There is no sickness. He just wants you to leave him alone.” By that time, Tayna had rounded the Wagon and could see Abeni’s large back, jutting up out of a clump of merlhora shrubs, just beyond a line of trees. When she got closer, she could see a slender Wasketchin man, cowering at the Djin’s feet.

“Greetings, cousin,” she said with a wave as she pushed her way into the shrubbery to join them. The man’s eyes were wide with fright, but he seemed to relax slightly when he saw her.

“Don’t mind my friend here,” Tayna said, soothingly. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just, uh, heard you moving through the trees and thought we’d come say hello. Maybe exchange news?”

The stranger did not seem mollified at all by her explanation, but when Abeni did not immediately attack, he at least paused in his efforts to scramble away.

“Who are you?” he asked, with a trembling voice. “What do you want? I have nothing of value.” Then he coughed very unconvincingly into his hand. “And I told you, I’m very sick.”

Tayna smiled. “Cousin, where I come from, even the preschoolers are better actors. You need a lot more practice. But really, we aren’t going to hurt you. What are you afraid of?”

The man looked back and forth between Tayna and Abeni, as though trying to decide whether she was lying or just stupid. “You mean, you haven’t heard? There’s a war on! The Horde is everywhere! They’re rounding people up and taking them back to the Throat to roast them and eat them whole!” When they just looked at him blankly, he waved his arms wildly.

“Have you not heard? The King has told everyone to flee! We’re to seek shelter atop the Spine. It’s our only hope!” Then he looked nervously past them, as though expecting a Gnome to leap out of Tayna’s kirfa and throttle them all with his bare hands. Tayna and Abeni both turned to see what he was looking at, but when they turned back, the man was racing away through the trees. “Get yourselves to safety!” he called back over his shoulder.

And then he was gone.

“Well,” Tayna said, as she gazed at the spot where the man had vanished. “That was weird.”

“Truly,” Abeni agreed, but he stared for a long time into the deeper dark of the Forest before he finally turned back to Tayna.

“Abeni thinks perhaps things have changed for the Wasketchin people since the Little Fish left them.”

“You think?” she asked, as they left the shrubs and went back to their fire.

At that point, they still had no idea how right Abeni was.

 
***
 

Twice more they encountered refugees. One, a group of frightened children hiding in some bushes, and then shortly after that, they came upon a pair of old women helping each other through the trees. The women confirmed that yes, Malkior had sent word to abandon the dehns and villages. There was just no way to defend so many people spread so thinly. The King and Queen were moving the Court to the Spinetop and urged everyone to join them there. With one end protected by a narrow stairway up a sheer cliff, and the other end in Djin territory, they hoped it would be enough to hold the Gnomes at bay.

And that was where the women were heading. They knew they would never be able to climb the Zalmin Stair that guarded the southern end, so they were making for the north end. While the path that led to the Djin Plateau was uphill, it was not treacherous, and they were sure they would arrive in good time.

When they parted, Tayna was relieved that the children had asked if they could go with the old women instead. Even though he was a Djin, and not a Gnome, the kids were now scared of all strangers, and kept cringing from Abeni with undisguised suspicion. The two old ladies were not much pleased at the thought of caring for young folk, but at least they’d have some help with the more difficult terrain ahead. The last Tayna saw of them was a pair of hunched old backs hobbling off into the trees, waving their walking sticks in the air and shouting for the kids to slow down.

“Djin Forest?” Tayna asked, after the ladies had disappeared.

“The Plateau of the Anvil,” Abeni replied. “A raised land, higher than the Wasketchin lands, but still richly forested.” He waved his arms around, gesturing at the trees around them.

“What, you mean we’re already there?”

“Indeed,” Abeni said, with a laugh. “Does the Little Fish not see how much taller and more colorful the trees have become?”

Now that they had reached the Plateau, they were essentially in the foothills of the Anvil, he explained, so the base of the trail they were looking for lay only a day’s journey further. Then they would begin to climb the Anvil itself.

It was late in the afternoon when the trees began to thin out and Tayna finally got to see the mountain itself, peering down at them between the treetops. At about the same time, the stream bank they’d been following veered aside, but Abeni continued straight ahead, angling over land toward the base of the mountain and the foot of their intended trail. Rather than continue as they had been though, he felt it was perhaps also time to reconfigure themselves into less conspicuous travelers—since they were now far more likely to encounter other Djin, who might widen an eye at his unconventional handling of the Wagon, floating high above the trees.

Not only would the more traditional altitude be more seemly, he said, but it would also allow them to keep the secret of Tayna’s power a while longer. And since he knew these mountain trails like the tips of his own fingers, Abeni did not feel he would need her constant guidance either. This would allow Tayna to range ahead of him a little when they reached the trail. Not enough to get truly separated, but enough so that she would be able to scout obstructions or on-coming travelers and come back to warn him, long before he and the Wagon encountered them.

When they finally did emerge from the trees a little while later, they did so like a normal Warding party, returning to the Anvil with an empty Wagon after a long but stately journey. Well, except for the fact that Abeni Warded alone—a fact which both fascinated and alarmed the party of Gnomes waiting for them at the trail’s base.

“Who travels?” came the sentry Gnome’s challenge as he watched them approach. He was standing at alert with a sort of primitive spear held out in front of him. Three other Gnomes had all been loafing in varying postures of ease across the trail mouth, but they hurried now to join their leader, and soon had their own spears pointed at the two travelers.

Abeni allowed the Wagon to touch down on the trail. “Even a blind Gnome would know what he sees before him,” he said, once the Wagon’s weight had settled to the stones. “It is the Wagon of Tears upon the Homeward Trail. All others are in service to its need.” He emphasized the word “all.”

The guard made a quick gesture with his wrists—a familiar motion of respect that Tayna had seen others make in the Wagon’s presence before—but he did not move to clear the path. “Many pardons, Master Warder, but this is… not expected.” Then he leaned to one side, trying to peer past Abeni toward the tree line. “But where are your fellows?” he asked. “How have you come to be Warding the Wagon alone? Surely this little Ketch is no aid to a great Djin in this honorable duty?” He gestured contemptuously at Tayna. “Will the others be along shortly, then?”

Tayna didn’t like where this was going. Forget the insult to her. This guy appeared to be asking if Abeni could expect back-up to come charging out of the woods. Or was she just being paranoid? Either way, the Gnome party had them out-numbered and out-armed, and recent events had taught her to be less than trusting of Gnomes. She fought the urge to bend over and pick up some rocks. But there are rocks and then there are rocks. So, while the guards were muttering over the subtlety of their sergeant’s ploy, Tayna casually took two steps backward, until she felt the warmth of Abeni’s hand settle onto her shoulder, and she let out a sigh of relief.

The Gnomes noticed. “That’s a curious thing, that is,” said the leader to his cohorts. “A little Ketch sprat looking to a mighty Djin for protection. And him givin’ it too.” Then he turned back to Abeni. “You need to learn about the changes that’s been goin’ on around here, Master Djin. They isn’t fit for polite company, they ain’t,” he said, indicating Tayna with a twitch of his nose. “So we’ll just relieve you of the shame of it all, and take her off your hands now. A friendly turn from your friendly neighbors. ‘Sides, the new King’s got special orders about this ‘un, he does. Filthy she-Ketch found in the company of the Great Wagon. That’s what he said to be watchin’ for. She’ll be comin’ with us. But then you’ll be free to be on yer way. So be a good neighbor.”

The Gnomes all gripped their spears tightly and stepped forward, spreading themselves out wider in an attempt to flank their quarry.

“Go! In the Dragon’s Peace,” came the deep voice from just behind Tayna’s head, “and Abeni will not harm his little ‘neighbors.’ But go now, before Abeni decides to teach them better manners.” Then he began to chant again, and as the sound of dangerous waters rose around her, the Wagon rose with it some ten feet into the air and slid slowly forward, coming to a rest above the Gnome commander’s head.

To his credit, the Gnome only glanced up briefly before responding. “Now, now, Master Djin—Abeni—we both knows you can’t do no damage with that bloody great rock of yourn. ‘Touch not, save with the hands of grief.’ In’t that right? And as you can see”—he held out his gnarled Gnomish hands, still clamped tightly around his spear—“they’s not exactly grievin’. Not just yet.”

Tayna took a deep breath. Was that true? Had this Gnome jerk just called Abeni’s bluff?

“This is true,” Abeni said, and Tayna felt her shoulders sag. But behind her, the sound of Abeni’s song shifted. The Wagon slid further forward, and then settled onto the stony path, just behind the Gnomes. Then the song changed again, and a flicker of movement caught her eye. A largish rock about the size of her head shot up from the side of the trail, behind the Gnome leader, arced up over his head, and then came crashing down. Tayna was sure it was about to cave him in from forehead to pelvis, and she squinted her eyes to block out most of the gory details. But it missed the Gnome’s head and dove neatly between his two hands, snapping his spear in the middle, and slammed into the trail between his feet. Immediately another rose from the path in front of him. Menacingly.

While the Gnomes all gawped about, puzzling over this new development, another rock rose from the trail, taking position in front of the Gnome on Tayna’s far left. And another for the guy on her right. Then a fourth arced up into the air and then slammed back down into the dirt at the feet of the last Gnome—the one who’d been edging around toward Abeni’s back and thought the big Djin hadn’t noticed. The sneaky Gnome gave out a squeak of fear and scrambled back to rejoin his comrades in a hurry. Tayna felt Abeni squeeze her shoulder in thanks. It was her power that was making all of this possible.

“Abeni does not wish to harm his neighbors,” Abeni said quietly, but despite the softness of his words, there was no mistaking the threat within them, nor his willingness to make good on it, should the Gnomes not take heed. “But he fears that they may perhaps bring injury to themselves if they are left to play with dangerous toys.” Once more he sang, and this time, all five spears and spear-halves darted as one into the center of the group, clattering to the ground like kindling. “Like a good neighbor, Abeni has now ensured that his new friends will not meet such accidental hurt.” Then his tone turned dark.

“But now they go. And quickly. For those neighbors who would play games upon the Anvil must learn to beware the falling of its hammers.” Then Abeni sang a few words, and all five stones lifted into the air, climbing up to hang above the heads of each of the five Gnomes, who looked from one to the other as they struggled to understand how they had so suddenly lost the advantage in this little ambush of theirs. But Abeni had lost all his patience and his angry roar woke them abruptly from their fugue. “Abeni said, ‘GO!’”

And like a shot, the Gnomes fled. As they ran past her, Tayna noticed that one of them was carrying something strapped below his pack. It was another of Sister Regalia’s urns.

Abeni watched them warily until they had disappeared into the trees. Then he blew out a tight breath, releasing some of the tension he had held during the encounter.

“Mabundi will not be pleased,” he said. “Gnome raiders upon the Anvil. Word must reach the King of all Djin at once.”

“Wha- Um, yeah. To arms! And all that kind of stuff.” But Tayna had a creeping feeling that they had missed the most important part. That urn… It was just too weird. Seeing it with Angiron was one thing, but seeing it here in Methilien with some random Gnome… Why would Angiron have given one to such a distant underling? There was something else going on here—something that nobody even suspected yet. And knowing Angiron, it was probably more bad news. But she couldn’t argue with her big travel buddy. He was right—they needed to find whoever was in charge around here and fill him in. Fast.

“Well, we better get moving, Oh Mighty Rock Hoverer. The path is clear now. Come on.”

But Abeni shook his head. “No. The need is great and time is little. Abeni must speak to Kijamon. Now.” Then his hand came back down firmly on her shoulder.

Tayna’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

The Djin Warder smiled at her confusion. “On this day, a whale and a fish must fly up a mountain,” he said.

“Wicked!” Tayna shouted, punching the air in excitement. “Don’t worry, big guy. You are so going to love this! Flying is only like, the most awesome thing ever.”

“Abeni does not fear to fly,” he said, as they walked up to the Wagon and clambered onto to its sturdy runners. His big face grinned down at her as he wrapped one arm around her shoulder, making firm contact with her magic. “It is ceasing to fly that Abeni fears.” And with that, he began to sing, and the Wagon shot once more into the sky.