Would she survive even that far? Jex would do what he could, but…But if she did, then what? At the sheep-fold she’d had time to recover, to come back into the here and now, to point the way they must go. This time, somehow, in that instant before the Watchers came, she would have to act, to tell or show Ribek what to do, where to go. It could only be him—Benayu would be facing the Watchers and Saranja wrestling with the panicking horses—and still she would need to endure, endure…
She tried to distract herself by studying the scene before her. What were all the wagons doing, trundling thunderously to and fro over the cobbles? Not difficult. At the far end of the street she could see masts and cranes, and the now familiar odor of oysters told her what most of the ones going in that direction bore, and what many of those coming back, only a little less thunderously and reekingly, had unloaded at the harbor. But a far greater variety of cargoes returned from there, in different carts, because you wouldn’t want your corn or your carpets or expensive luxuries impregnated with the basic Bardan odor, would you?
That man there now, bustling out of a door, dodging between the wagons, pausing anxiously to check through the file of papers he was carrying, as if searching for a document that should have been there and wasn’t, sighing with relief and hurrying in through another door—not difficult either. Or that grander gentleman stalking up from the harbor, listening haughtily to the expostulations of the seaman-like figure beside him, and followed by a porter wheeling a trolley with a brass-bound sea-chest on it…All so everyday and impossibly different, almost in another universe from the one she knew, the one that had the Watchers in it, and winged horses, and Jex, and the unimaginable terrors of the next few hours…
“At last!” said Saranja. “Look at him! He’s been spinning it out, enjoying himself! He drives me mad, sometimes!”
Maja looked, saw Ribek, sane, beautiful, everyday Ribek, coming out of the door opposite, and instantly felt better. Jex wasn’t the only one who could live in two universes, she thought.
A large man with blubbery lips was talking volubly to him as he held the door, and talked on as they wound their way between the wagons, though most of what he was saying must have been drowned by the wheel thunder. He approached them reaching forward for a hand to shake and starting to introduce himself before he was fully in earshot.
“…Adorno Dorno, Oyster Magister of Barda, at your service. And you three are also Freepeople of Larg, my friend Ribek tells me. Honored, honored indeed…”
Ribek managed to get the introductions in while the Magister was vigorously shaking their hands. If Sponge had known to hold up a paw he would no doubt have shaken that.
“And none of you has ever tasted an oyster! You have waited until you can start at the pinnacle of excellence. Wonderful! Wonderful! Perhaps as a preliminary—ahem—taster to your inspection of our oyster-beds you ought to have your first experience of this wonderful delicacy. You have come to the right man. It is part of my official duties to inspect and license the commercial outlets of Barda, and there are two on our way to the oyster-beds that I would especially recommend….”
Maja quailed. How could she get anything down her throat with the terror of the event so close upon them? And Ribek had said that oysters were slippery blobs that you ate not just raw, but alive!
“I…I’m not very hungry,” she blurted.
The Magister stared at her, pop-eyed with astonishment, as if he couldn’t imagine the circumstances in which somebody might not want to sample his oysters.
“I’m afraid we made the error of partaking of a substantial repast shortly before our arrival,” said Ribek in his Striclan voice. “We did not foresee our good fortune in encountering such a fountainhead of knowledge so immediately. Perhaps when we have had our fill of the oyster-beds we will be in a better frame to have our fill of the oysters.”
“Excellent! Excellent!” crowed the Magister, covering Ribek with saliva in his excitement. “I shall certainly enter that among the Remarks of Visitors that I publish in the Town Yearbook. Well then, shall we stable your horses and take my barge? Fortunately the tide is flowing toward the full. Or would you prefer to walk? In which case we could save time in stabling the horses and leave them at the gate. We have a strict rule against allowing animals in the oyster fields for fear of contaminating the purity of the waters. The same ruling also applies to those with magical powers, but for different reasons, of course.”
“Of course,” agreed Ribek. “What does everyone feel about that? Saranja?”
“Um…er…,” said Saranja. Maja sensed a brief pulse of magic from Benayu, and words seemed to come into Saranja’s mouth, unwilled. “Let’s walk,” she gabbled. “Benayu and I can stay with the horses.”
“It would perhaps be more stimulating to the appetite,” said Ribek, as if he’d noticed nothing remotely odd about the exchange.
“True, true,” said the Magister. “Well, if you’re ready to depart…”
He had a surprising turn of speed for so portly a figure. Even Ribek had to stride out to keep up with his vigorous waddle. Maja started to fall behind and broke into a trot to catch up, almost running headlong into one of the Magister’s sweeping gestures. Instantly she started to fall behind again, trotted, caught up…No, too tiring.
She halted and waited for the others and let Saranja lift her onto Levanter’s back. Benayu had had to come back into this world to greet the Magister and now took the chance to mount Pogo. Saranja seemed to be in a bad mood, probably cross about Benayu telling her in her head what to say just now. And perhaps it was also her way of dealing with the coming crisis. She was scared, and no wonder, and she was ashamed of being scared. It didn’t fit in with her idea of herself and that made her furious.
“Look at him!” she snarled suddenly. “Oozing charm at that appalling man as if he’s having a lovely time!”
“Ribek’s doing fine,” said Benayu absently. “He’s got him eating out of his hand.”
“Yes, of course he has. But he doesn’t need to enjoy it so much! And talking in that stupid voice! I think it’s grotesque!”
She strode on, seething. It was the Striclan voice, of course, that got her goat, Maja realized. She glanced at Benayu, hoping to share the joke, but he was deep in concentration again. Without warning a wave of apprehension washed over her. She felt utterly alone. Jex…
“I am here in the saddlebag, still in my living form. I will at least partially protect you until the last instant. There will not be three separate magical impulses for you to endure. They will be almost simultaneous, and then Benayu will convert you into your inert form. It would be as well to remind him.”
“All right…Benayu? Can I bother you? It isn’t important if you’re busy. Jex says I’ve got to remind you about changing me as soon as it’s over. He says he’ll look after me till the last minute. Something with eyes and ears, you said.”
“Not a problem. You won’t be able to move your eyes, so you’ll only see what’s straight in front of you.”
“That’ll be fine.”
He nudged Pogo closer, leaned over, plucked at her sleeve and effortlessly drew out a single dark green thread, which he coiled carelessly round his thumb.
“Listen,” he said. “I’d better tell you what’s going to happen. This business about the horses actually helps, because it’s the same as at the sheep-fold. You can’t do it if you’re screened, but if Saranja and I stay with the horses I can screen what I’m doing to them separately. I’ll get everything set, so I can do it in a flash, and I’ll keep in touch with you and Ribek in your heads. One of you just tell me when you’re ready. Count ten, and Saranja will take the hair off the feathers. That’ll activate it. We won’t be as close as we were last time, but you’ll still be able to feel the link between it and what we’re looking for, won’t you, Maja?”