Things to do in Marn when you're Wanted

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas rolled her shoulders back one at a time as she walked. She hadn't had time to properly eat, much less relax and stretch a bit after spending the night in an unfamiliar bed. She lifted a hand to press at a sore spot between her shoulder blades and looked back at Chris thoughtfully. She might have been looking at the home she was leaving.

"I wonder where Kenny spen' the night . . . dunno 'f he slept," she said to Chrishton. She was avoiding the subject of money and transportation. If she didn't talk about it, maybe it wouldn't be an issue. She was walking away from the home quickly enough to indicate she wasn't sticking around to mess with their stocks on her way out.

The sun was undeniably up at this point, still acute to the horizon, but no longer shifting around behind the taller buildings and trees. Some mists had gotten wind that change was afoot; they hung in the air now, diffusing the sun's pale light into something both blinding and cold. Dorcas squinted in the direction of the obscured horizon and inhaled some of the mist, chilling her lungs.

She held that breath like a lungful of smoke so as to fully absorb the drug, the coldness. The cold air steeled her confidence, and she let it out with a sigh. "I'm going to be important," she said in that exhale. She didn't look at Chrishton when she said it, but maybe she intended for him to hear it, because she paused and looked back at him, dry-faced. She waited for him to catch up next to her.

Without further explanataion of what she meant by that, she continued on in silence. Her lips wiggled a little as she walked, as if she were talking to herself and not allowing the words out. Chris's words about Keltaris were few and cryptic, the better to bounce around in the adolescent's imagination in this silence. Gruff as she tried to act, she was still young, and thus retained an irresponsible capacity for hope.

She didn't know if the cat was leading them in the right direction, but Chris wasn't objecting, and whatever direction they headed, physics decreed they'd find themselves outside the city at some point, at least. Those facts were enough for Dorcas to continue along, heavy-footed and confident. When she looked at Chrishton again, she didn't say anything, but the youth showed in her eyes, and clearly said without words "I'm leaving it to you."

[Chrishton Radu]

"Ferget 'bout Kenny. 'E'll be fine 'n it's 'bout time ya start thinkin' 'bout yerself. Got a long road ahead, Dor."

It felt good to get outside once they did. The air, cold and damp as it was, was clean and fresh. Blowing south off the mountains, the usual ripeness of the city was floating harmlessly down the Ofriyu Mar, bothering animals instead of people.

Chrishton shook out his hair and ran fingers through it several more times. It wasn't going to get dry in the present conditions. An orange spirit caught up to him while he was busy doing that and flew a few circles around him. Chrishton didn't even acknowledge the thing's presence until, in an obvious vie for attention, it started circling Dorcas' head, at which point he responded with a warning look.

The spirit took heed of the warning, only to go after her cat. Quick, ethereal, and harmless as it was, the spirit started playing games with the cat, trying to get as much of a rise out of the animal as it could. It flew circles around it, feigning an attack now and then and then shooting off laughing.

"I'm going to be important," Dorcas said.

"Yer just as important as anyone else" was his response.

When she looked at him, he reached over and put a hand on her shoulder, slowing their pace behind the cat.

"I'll get 'em then, but I dun want ya riskin' nothin' while I do." He pointed a finger to the north-east, where Main Street could be seen in the distance, leading out of the city. "Head that way, 'n wait fer me at the edge o' the city. I kinna go walkin' along Main anyway, or they'll arrest me."

He started branching off from their path, ready to walk south, but hesitated to make sure she understood and was going to follow his directions.

"Alright? I'll explain after," he added.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas's cat perhaps responded to the spirit's harassment. His head jerked sharply upward as the wisp caught up to him. He kept trotting, and let out a series of dry, chirping sort of noises. To anyone viewing their party he would look as if he were simply sniffing at the air with more vigor than Chrishton, but to Chrishton, who could see the orange spirit, the cat would appear to be dotting the tail end of the ethereal thing with his nose, once for each revolution around his fuzzy head. Whether it was the former or the latter behavior that registered in Dorcas's perception was unclear, because she gave no reaction at all.

When Chris came up and put his hand on her shoulder, she started. She eyed him reproachfully as he gave her some easily questionable instructions. He started to leave her. In her overconfident high, Dorcas brushed off the idea that she might be abandoned--the seed had been planted, and she was going to Keltaris.

She followed her cat's path and nodded at Chris as the distance between them shortened. "There are different levels of importance," she added after him. Her tone verged just on the exasperation teenagers will take with adults. "Queens and mayors, like that."

Dorcas waved a wide, calloused palm and turned her head forward to walk on. Several paces along, she did look back to see if Chrishton had disappeared entirely, but he seemed to be walking steadily in the direction he'd indicated. He was honest as far as she could watch him, at least, and that would have to be enough.

Shortly, Dorcas and her cat intersected Main Street. The cat had abandoned his erratic behavior and was trotting alongside his master with purpose again. He stopped when she did.

She responded to her cat's glance with a point in the northeast direction. He dotted the air beneath her extended finger with his nose. Cat and master set off walking, she in swing-legged strides, and he at a quick clip to keep up. She folded her arms over her chest as she walked. This wasn't unfamiliar territory to her--Main Street was the site of errands for many maids, and she didn't appear at all out of place. The road in this direction, though, would soon be unknown land. Dorcas hadn't left the city gates since she'd arrived.

The sight of the misty, unfamiliar distance filled the girl with enough excitement to quicken her step just a bit. She passed storefronts that sold common goods; the only unusual aspect of her jaunt out this morning was that she wasn't stopping at a single store or even pausing to eye the sundries. Nobody watched her long enough, though, to notice this fact. She would be at the gates in a few minutes.

[Chrishton Radu]

The fox spirit attempting to taunt Dorcas' cat was amused the first few times the cat made the strange sound, but quickly lost interest when it was unable to get any more of a rise out of the animal. It stopped its corkscrews around the cat at this point, hovered there for a second, and was promptly chased off by another spirit that appeared from nowhere to chase it away.

Chrishton, ignoring the exchange, strode confidently away from Dorcas in a straight line until he knew he was well out of sight of the girl. Once gone, he rounded a corner and studied the street he ended up on carefully, looking up one way and then down the other. As conspicuous as he was, people felt inclined not to bother a man of his stature. They just kept on walking, averting their gazes when he met them. The street being as empty as it was meant that nobody would be able to help them if this crazy man decided to start a fight.

"Alright, 'elp m'out 'ere," he asked the spirits, although he could see none around. On cue, one appeared and took a seat on his shoulder. Though he couldn't feel it sitting there, it was impossible to ignore, and although it was translucent, looking through it was difficult.

"Huh?" Said the spirit.

"'Elp m'find a fuckin'orse." Chrishton slurred the answer in a way that was particularly hard to understand. The spirit could just fine, but a woman walking down the other side of the street saw only a madman babbling to himself.

For Chrishton to be directly asking for assistance was rare, but the fact that stealing a horse was such a trivial matter improved his odds of getting the assistance greatly. He found that the spirits were much more keen to help when it didn't matter.

"What kind of horse?" It asked.

"Fuckin 'ell..."

"A white horse? A black one? A brown one?"

"How 'bout I buy it with th'fox pelt I'm 'bout ta get..."

"You don't have the money to buy a fox pelt around here, stupid."

"C'mon. Dun make m'look..."

"Well, there's plenty of them around to choose from, but they're all on the other side of town. Except for the one over there." The fox nosed in the direction of a larger house which had an attachment that was indeed large enough to house a horse or two. Many of the city dwellers didn't have their own horses, but those with money or a job that required one did.

"Right, good 'nuff." Chrishton replied, and walked over to the shed. The door was locked, but that was no problem, for when he touched the handle it unlocked itself. The ease of this ability helped Chrishton to look less like he was breaking into a place, and more like he belonged there. A passing man looked on curiously, but thought little of what he saw.

Inside the structure was not only a white horse, idly chewing hay from a pile left before it, but a small, two wheeled wooden cart.

Chrishton closed the door and thanked the spirit for his unusual helpfulness while he saddled and hitched up the horse and cart, he realized he needed money as well. In a few minutes the getaway vehicle was ready. All he needed to do for money was rob whoever lived in the big, fancy house attached.

Robbing the owner required proper stealth. This was also easily accomplished and the man, who was at home but sick in bed, never heard the white kitsune enter through his side door. More help from the spirits pointed Chrishton in the direction of a desk with a few dozen bishani within. Chrishton helped himself to those, along with a mostly blank accounting book and an empty mug he found on the desk. It was all he could carry. Not enough for the trip, but a start.

Back in the shed he shifted to a human again, tossed the book and mug into the cart, and started on down the road back to meet up with Dorcas. More people noticed him leaving than did when he came, but by the time they could do anything about it he was long gone, riding along on his new horse.

When he reached Dorcas with it, he had a broad, confident smile on his face.

[Dorcas Tansy]

Dorcas had stopped at a certain point in the road, near the edge of the city, where the cobblestones started to give way to the well-worn dirt road. This place wasn’t like the borders of the shanty town—there, the road was pitted and sooty; the cobblestones seemed to disintegrate into the jagged gravel and mud that marked the tent city. At the edge of the town, the cobblestones were wider and flatter, eroded gently so that they merely faded slowly into the sandy, smooth dirt of the wide road outside. There was no obvious point of transition, so Dorcas stopped just when she first noticed her boots were no longer squeaking along the stones, but scuffing against the earth.

The lines of her cheeks were vertical as she clenched her jaw and looked back over her shoulder. It was still somewhat chilly in the way of a morning that would give way to a warmer daytime. A traveller appeared on the road, gray in the misty air. His cart creaked along amiably behind his able horse.

In the slow sequence of seconds that was his approach, Dorcas began to make out the Cheshire grin. In Chrishton’s relatively dark face, obscured by so many unkempt whiskers, his smile was the only readily recognizable feature.

Dorcas’s mouth opened at the moment she realized this set-up was now theirs to use. “Alright,” she called out when he was close enough to reach at a reasonable decibel. “You want me to ride in the cart, is that it?” Her face screwed up a little as she got over her initial surprise and began to reconcile in her mind the fact that she and her travel partner were to share one horse and one cart between them. She didn’t seem terribly excited by the idea of riding in back, and started to walk forward on the road out of town; he would catch up to her in a few moments. As she walked, she watched his progress over her shoulder with a look that wasn’t quite a scowl, but dark enough to get her personality across.

[Chrishton Radu]

The burly man slowed the horse down beside Dorcas and continued to grin amusedly, both in childish pride of his own success and in an immature response to her discombobulation. His egg-white teeth glistened at her through his lengthy stubble.

He had figured she wouldn't be keen on riding along on a bumpy, wobbly, two wheeled wooden cart that was half the size of the average bed and ten times less comfortable. The stuff he'd tossed into it bounced around each time one of the wheels hit a stone in the road. Even the horse didn't much like having to pull the thing around, and wouldn't go very fast with it.

"Well I ain't goin back in there t'get ya another one." He said as he rolled past the last visible sign of cobblestones.

Four guardsmen were standing watch over the Western entrance of the city - two thin, lanky elves with longbows on their shoulders, and two humans that rivalled Chrishton in weight and scruff. Most were not paying close attention, but one of the elves who had his wits about was eyeballing the duo with growing suspicion. Chrishton was all hair and rags, and the picture of him that had been posted around the city was made a few days after his last shave. It was now a few weeks since then, and he looked different.

The elf nudged one of the humans beside him and said something. Both of the guardsmen proceeded to watch. Apparently, if someone was leaving the city, it was good riddance to them.

Chrishton had a feeling he was being watched, knew who was doing the watching and why, and knew better than to give them more clues or a reason to stop him. With a horse under him, their only way to stop him was the arrows.

He just kept on going at an easy pace, and eventually said, "Ya kin ride up 'ere with me, Dor. Better get used t'it. Gonna be a long trip, an' sittin in m'lap'll be th'least o'yer worries."

To emphasize his point, encourage her to hop on, and to show her that there was enough room, he wheeled the horse about in front of her so that its right side faced her, and held out his hand in offering a lift.

"Better enjoy it afore the horsey gets too tired."

[Dorcas Tansy]

If only Dorcas were nearly as scruffy in appearance as Chris, their passing would be entirely unworthy of note. She was clean enough, and at least moderately groomed, although she had certainly not bathed anywhere near as recently as him. Still, she had a look of sustained comfort about her: her face had the fullness of one accustomed to eating regular, nourishing meals, and her clothes, while somewhat tattered, were newly washed. She and Chrishton did not exactly match, and on top of that, they didn't look like they might be relations. It was no wonder the elves were eyeing them like they were.

Dorcas gave the guards a long, blank stare over the horse's shoulder from where she stood. She put her hand on the horse and flexed her knuckles into a hilly ridge The horse didn't react to her touch one way or the other, which was indication enough, for her, of a docile temperament.

With the sudden realization that she was staring at the men, the girl snapped her gaze up to Chrishton and began to process his offer. She wrinkled her brow and lifted her hand half the distance to reach his. "I'm too big for that . . . I mean I'm too grown."

Unintentionally, Dorcas had helped along the impression that she and Chrishton were just another routine departure from the city--she appeared to be an annoyed adolescent daughter. With no further protest, and a sigh that ended abruptly in a grunt, Dorcas grasped Chris's hand a little too tightly and hefted herself up to sit with him on the horse. She seemed to know what she was doing, and sat astride. She played the part of, and perhaps she was once, the annoyed daughter and passenger of an equestrian.

Dorcas looked over her shoulder with an impatient look of warning for Chrishton, then leaned forward and allowed her cat, who had been wriggling on his haunches, to jump up and into her hands. She caught him in a practiced way.

"Arright," she said as she settled the cat before her, "let's get the fuck on, then." She pressed the heels of her boots against the horse's sides.

[Chrishton Radu]

"Dun be silly. 'e k'n 'andle it." Chrishton said about his new horse, which was a muscular beast in top working condition. It was the luck of the draw, or the fate of the gods, that the horse he found was so perfect for their purpose.

He helped her into her seat with ease. Dorcas might not have been the lightest girl, but Chrishton still had a good 40 lbs on her. To his surprise, she knew what she was doing, and sat sideways without requiring his directions. He half expected her to refuse because she'd never been on a horse before.

Unsure of what to make of the warning look she gave him - surely she didn't expect him to do anything inappropriate given their relationship - his response was a blank stare.

At her let's get the fuck on, then, he snapped the reigns of the horse at the same time as she squeezed its sides, and it started its slow, bumpy walk forward on heavily laden legs. The cart rolled along behind them looking far less comfortable.

"Well, at least ya've ridden a horse afore."

The northern trade route stretched into the distance before them; a straight line of dirt road painted over the low hills of the sooqui plane. Despite all the inhospitality of the desolate landscape, the region had its advantages that made travel easy. Even with the sun about to reach its peak in the cloudless sky, the air blew over them with a constant, cool breeze.

Up ahead, dancing over the horizon, a pair of black shapes of indeterminate size fought with eachother, doing loops and dives - the only animal life that could be seen in any direction but the city at their backs.

"I suppose now is where I tell ya th'shit yer supposed ta know 'bout me," he said while watching the two shapes at play.

[Dorcas Tansy]

They weren't moving quickly enough for the refreshing breeze to be much more than that: a cool ribbon of air. Because the wind didn't ruffle her hair satisfactorily, Dorcas lifted her hand to tug at the roots at her nape. Her hair was rather poorly kept, and her fingers quickly caught within tangles; the effect was less than lovely. Still, Dorcas was pleased. The breeze bit at her neck laid bare. She looked back at Chris again, and a crooked-toothed smile was there on her face. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and a sense of adventure. She realized, when she turned, how close her face was to his, and she leaned forward a bit self-consciously. The distance added wasn't so great, but enough to express that she didn't care to be breathing into his nostrils when she spoke to him.

Her hand dropped from her nape to her cat's scruff. She held his neck firmly, and his purrs were audible. Things were silent between her and Chris for a while. Her weight shifted purposefully, and there was a noticeable hesitation before she started talking to her cat in deliberate tones, but with meaningless content. "Widgie pleased, then? We like the hossy when 'e goes below a gallop, dun' we now?" Dorcas dug her fingertips into the cat's fur, and he purred all the more loudly.

Chris spoke, and she turned her head, startled. She saw how far behind them the city was. Now she couldn't locate any particular landmarks; all was an undifferentiated mass of civilization. In contrast, ahead were plains, and only the smudge of dark movement above the horizon indicated any sort of animate life. Dorcas was squinting at the fighting beasts in the distance, and didn't process what her companion had said until several seconds after.

"Huh . . .?" She looked at him with her mouth slightly agape, her crooked teeth hovering above her slack lower lip. Her expression slowly solidified into her practiced sarcasm. "Oh, kinda full o' yerself, huh? Well, g'head with the biography then . . ." As was becoming the usual case between them, she didn't sound entirely insincere.

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton had no problem with their proximity, even though it bordered on the intimate - especially with the rhythmic bouncing provided by the beast beneath them. The baby-talk she gave to her cat earned her a roll of his eyes, although it was done when she couldn't see because her head was turned. It was more for the benefit of the spirits, who saw it and snickered in agreement.

Even if he never stated it outright, or gave any signs of it whatsoever, Chrishton liked her cat. It was a clever animal, well behaved, and possessing of some ability to sense his spirit companions when most animals could not. He suspected there was more to that cat than Dorcas realized, but it was not a question he would ask.

Asking questions often revealed more about the person asking them than the answers themselves. This was a concept that he had learned the hard way, and one that he adhered to without realizing.

He was also in no hurry to explain his life story to Dorcas, even though he liked her and trusted her. Revealing his true nature to people was not a matter of trust, it was a matter of tactics. Tactics were a matter of religion. She didn't know it, but revealing his secrets to her was an act of intimacy he took more seriously than the physical sort.

It was with this mindset that he began to explain. The weight his tone of voice carried was not like anything she'd heard come out of him. He was not only serious, he was passionate. The right words didn't come easily.

"I know that... where yer from is different from 'ere. An' I know yer not a stupid girl. I wouldn'ave ya with me if y'were." Skirting around issues was another thing Chrishton did not normally do, and yet he was. "But there're things - forces at play - that y'dun know 'bout."

He had to frame things under the assumption that she knew about magic because he knew no other way. Everyone knew about magic. Marn's whole religious and political structure revolved around it. "Magic is one o'those forces, but thats only the surface. People know magic an' stay just people... But there's things made o'magic that ain't people. I dun mean elves or faeries. They see things like people, 'cause they're just people with magic... But there's things pullin' the strings that ain't people. Call 'em gods, or call 'em whate'er ya want. Most people worship 'em without e'er seein' em, an' without e'er understandin' the game they're playin'."

He stopped to try and gauge just how confused or lost she was after what he was saying. Of course she would be confused, but it didn't matter. She would understand in time.

"'Bout twenty years ago I was confronted by one o' these gods," he said, recanting things from his own understanding that Inari's spirits or avatars were extensions of himself. "'E gave me a choice. Work fer 'im, or go on workin' fer m'self like I already was."

A bit of a grin lifted up the corners of his lips as he catered to a hidden audience and inside humour. "I'd a prolly said no, but 'e bribed me into agreein'... Ya with me?"

[Dorcas Tansy]

It was the timbre of Chris's voice that caught Dorcas's attention when he began what she might otherwise have expected to be a dull monologue. She paused in mid-scratch of her cat's neck to turn and look at his face when he started. She accepted his introductory praise with calm, unblinking eyes. While his recognition of her mettle and her exotic origins was appreciated, a girl like Dorcas wasn't about to bow and blush like a lady about it. And she wasn't going to miss what it was he was so serious about all of the sudden.

With his next words, he seemed to negate that praise: he said there were things at play she didn't understand. At that, Chrishton had just made it entirely clear that he hadn't played much of a presence in his son's adolescence, or else he'd have acquired a bit more tact in handling teenagers. A slight scowl darkened Dorcas's previously open countenance. Teenagers from any place do not accept graciously the suggestion that they don't understand some thing or another.

While he almost lost her with that, Dorcas didn't turn away. She was a smart girl after all, and as a smart girl, she found something intriguing about having her concept of religion confronted. Magic was indeed a subject one couldn't avoid in Marn, but everyone at least seemed settled on the subject of a deity; this had been just one of the many forces in the city that had kept Dorcas, for the past month or two, living in uneasy comfort with her situation. It wasn't comfort, though--it was stagnation. The air outside the city seemed fresher.

When he tried to gauge her understanding, he would find her face steely, defensive against his suggestion of her naivety, but bright with the simultaneous effort to understand.

"Ya with me?" he asked, and she cracked a brief smile.

Dorcas took her time answering. She rolled her shoulders back and settled a little bit closer to Chrishton, as her spot was becoming uncomfortable. She may just as well scoot forward in the future when her rear end required another positional reprieve. From her new position, she cocked her head a little to regard him askance. "I s'pose the invisible magician bribed you with somethin' worthwhile . . .? Seems to be you're aboat to tell me as much . . ." She lowered her gaze for just a moment, smiled, and turned her face back to look at the road ahead.

The cat sat up in Dorcas's lap and looked back at Chris now. He licked the end of his nose while looking squarely at this man, and his tongue lingered out of his mouth more a moment beyond the expected flicker.

[Chrishton Radu]

No, Chrishton was certainly no father. He was fine with children - even liked them better than most adults - as long as he wasn't raising them. Not to mention that teenagers were an entirely different game with a set of rules that would make a wizard cry.

The two figures over the horizon took their battle out of sight, gradually fading away behind the rolling terrain. Chrishton took his eyes off of them only long enough to check out Dorcas' expression for a fraction of a second. She didn't look like she thought he was crazy or stupid or full of shit. Most people didn't react well to finding out a friend is a closet religious fanatic, but she appeared to be giving him the benefit of the doubt. It made explaining easier.

"Th'invisible magician's a god o' deceit and mischief called Inari. He didn'a talk ta me directly, ne'er does, but 'e sends messengers in th'form o' fox spirits."

The belief that Inari was, himself, some kind of fox-god, was common. Chrishton knew better than to make assumptions like that. The same people who thought he, or it, was itself a fox, also thought that it was nothing more than a harvest god whose purpose was to dabble in their rice related agricultural affairs. Obviously this was not entirely true. Chrishton didn't even like rice, and never heard the spirits mention it.

Dorcas' cat was staring at him, which prompted him to look back at the animal. There was definitely something strange about it. Chrishton offered it a wink, and kept talking.

"'E gave me plenty - not all stuff I kin explain. Most o' what 'e did fer me ain't stuff I'm about ta talk about. What ya gotta know is that I ain't entirely human anymore."

[Dorcas Tansy]

There was simply no way for Dorcas to suspend what it was she knew to be true. There were laws of physics that played an importance in her consciousness beyond the texts she'd studied in school. It didn't take a careful study of Newton's Laws to have an implicit awareness of what to expect in the world around oneself. There was room in Dorcas's logical mind for another formula or theorem, but the boundaries in place were not going to stretch to accommodate something entirely foreign. Thankfully, her upbringing had at least offered her a loophole that allowed her to begin to accept some of what she saw in this land so foreign to her.

There was a vague spot in Dorcas's mind allotted to the comprehension of mythology. There were hardly any rules already in place here, and the boundaries were imposed by her own culture, something against which she was likely to rebel sooner or later. Therefore, if Dorcas allowed herself to take Chrishton's personal history as something more of a folktale, she could file it discretely in her brain and not trouble herself with the trouble of impossibility. "So you mean you're something like a changeling?" she asked as she half-turned back to see him. Her voice was lighter than usual, sort of younger. She was falling back on the fairy stories she knew.

She didn't seem put off by his revelation. She just seemed slightly and detachedly intrigued. He was, in her mind, telling a story, perhaps loosely autobiographical. Her cat stared at Chris and squinted his eyes very slowly until they just barely closed, and he purred loudly all the while.

[Chrishton Radu]

Chrishton's astute sidekick had once again admirably filled in the blanks on her own. Changeling was a word he almost never heard, but he knew what the implication was.

"Yeah, I guess that's what I'm sayin'. Somethin' like that. More like a werewolf, if yer familiar. I'm what they call a kitsune - half fox. Renowned on Pal Tahrenor fer bein' tricky lil' fucks. Most folks ain't ne'er seen one, or if they did, they didn'ave a clue what they were lookin' at. Mostly round 'ere cause most kitsune're from o'er east in Tian Xia.
"People got no clue... no fuckin' clue..." he chuckled.

His pronunciation of the eastern language was no better than his regular speech. His slurring did not lend itself well at all to it, although he knew plenty about the culture and many words in their tongue. Ironically, he was all but locked out of eastern society because there was no way he could fit in with the local human populace without drawing attention to himself.

He continued, "I'll show ya later if ya like, just try'n keep this shit secret. Can'na remember th'last time anyone saw proof but... I figure ya've earned it. Puttin' me up 'n all."


The horse continued to tough it out with both of them on its back until well after the the sun crested its apex and began casting long shadows along the dry, dusty ground. Marn was nearly out of sight by this time - little more than a gray-white speck on the horizon - and up ahead the edge of the Thar could be seen, consisting of rocky crags and a strip of vegetation not unlike that which grew between Marn and Shim along the banks of the Ofriyu Mar. The trees here were less healthy. With only slightly better soil and water collection granted by folds in the terrain, many of them were dead or dying. Still, it was a change from the desolate monotony of the rest of the sooqui plane, and would offer some shelter for the night.

Chrishton volunteered to remove himself from the horse before the creature would collapse. By the time they reached the edge of the Thar, the sun was setting and had everything bathed in an orange glow. There were a few animals about, birds and rabbits that ruffled out of their way as Chrishton, Dorcas, and the noisy horse and cart approached. They had not passed a single other person on the road from Marn.

He tied the horse up and offered to help Dorcas down. Following this he began looking for a place and some sticks for a fire. A chill in the air warned him it would be necessary. Oddly, he was not lazy or careless with what he was doing. He knew exactly how to get things done, found the best spot just out of line of sight of the road, and built the fire without accepting assistance from Dorcas. He used a flint kit he luckily still had with him to get it going, and then stood back to watch it grow. With a heavy sigh, he broke his hours long silence.

"Prolly shoulda stole some food."

[Dorcas Tansy]

Chrishton started peppering his mythical story with foreign words and giving little explanation to their meaning. Dorcas's attention strayed and she looked off towards the hazy horizon. Something Chris said startled her so that she became unnaturally still, even upon the rocking gait of the horse. She half-turned her head but thought better of saying anything. The words "Pal Tahrenor" had done this--the word was not the stuff of myth; she had filed this recently learned information as a vague notion of geography. The tenuous balance of myth and reality she held was shaken for a moment, and the only reasonable response seemed to be to hold very still for the moment to pass. Something about "showing her" what he was talking about received the same silent avoidance.


Throughout the day, the horizon grew sharper under the beating of the sun, and then hazy yet again as she disc drooped to the opposite horizon. The came upon a depressing excuse for a forested area, and Chris stopped.

Dorcas looked around at the gray trees, in the gray light. She ignored Chris's offered hand and helped herself down from the horse smoothly enough. As she patted her clothing down, she seemed to slowly become aware of how very without supplies she was. Her lower lip pressed up against her upper lip grimly. The distance from Marn had grown very great indeed without her hardly noticing.

His next words elicited only a surprised raise of the eyebrows from her. So they had no food.