"Two of us will have to double up," said Clothahump, voicing the obvious as the
last of their baggage was seeured to the snake's lengthy back. "At least Pog
does not present a problem."
"Thank the Design!" agreed the bat, fluttering overhead and adjusting his body
and back pouches. "It going to be hard enough ta slow down ta keep up wid ya."
"Jon-Tom and Flor must have saddles to themselves," the wizard pointed out,
"they being simultaneously the largest and least experienced of us. Perhaps the
two of you... ?" He gestured at Talea and Mudge.
"Oh no." She shook her head negatively. "I'm not riding with him." Mudge looked
hurt.
"In that case," Clothahump bowed as best he could, considering his short legs
and weighty front, "you may join me."
"Fine."
"Cor, now, Talea me luv...."
"Get to your own saddle, you mange-mouthed mucker. D'you honestly think I'd let
you sit that close to me?"
"Talea sweets, you 'ave poor Mudge all wrong."
"Sure I do." She mounted the lead saddle, spoke down to Clothahump. "You can
ride behind me. I trust your hands, and we've a shell between us."
"I can assure you, my dear," said the wizard, sounding slightly offended, "that
I have no intentions in the slightest of..."
"Yeah, that's what they all say." She slipped both boots into her stirrups. "But
come on and get aboard."
Clothahump struggled with the high seat, puffing alarmingly. His short legs and
great weight rendered mounting all but impossible. Jon-Tom moved forward and got
his arms and shoulders beneath the considerable bulk. It was against
Clothahump's principles (not to mention his ego) to use magic to lift himself
into the saddle. With Jon-Tom pushing and Talea pulling he managed to make it
with a minimum of lost pride.
When they were all seated Talea tugged lightly back on the reins. Having slept
all night and morning as was the habit of its kind, the snake came awake slowly.
She let the reins hang loose and the snake started to move forward.
A laugh of surprise and delight came from the third saddle, where Flores
Quintera sat. She was clearly enjoying the new sensation provided by an
extraordinary means of locomotion. Looking back over her shoulder, she flashed a
dazzling smile at Jon-Tom.
"What a wonderful way to travel! Que magnifico! You can see everything without
having your behind battered." She faced forward again and placed both hands on
the pommel of the saddle.
"Giddy up!" Her heels kicked girlishly at the scaly sides. The snake did not
notice the minuscule tapping on its flanks, but paid attention only to the
steering tugs at its sensitive ears.
"Any particular route you'd like me to follow?" Talea inquired of her fellow
saddle-mate.
"The shortest one to the Tailaroam," replied Clothahump. "There we will hire
passage."
"What about building our own raft?"
"Impossible. Tacking upstream against the current would be difficult. At the
Duggakurra rapids it would become impossible. We must engage professionals with
the know-how and muscle to fight such obstacles. I think we should turn slightly
to the left here, my dear."
Talea pulled gently on the reins, and the snake obediently altered its slither.
"That'll take us a day longer, if I remember the land right. It's been a long
time since I've been as far south as the river. Too many nasty types hole out
there."
"I agree it may take us a little longer to reach our goal this way, but by doing
so we will pass a certain glade. It is ringed with very old oaks and is a place
of ancient power. I am going to risk a dangerous conjuration there. It is the
best place for it, and will be our last chance to learn the nature of the
special corruption the warmlands will have to face.
"To do this involves stretching my meager powers to the utmost, so I will
require all the magical support the web of Earthforce can supply me. The web is
anchored at Yul, at Koal-zin-a-Mee, at Rinamundoh, and at the Glade of Triane."
"I've never heard of the others."
"They lie far around the world and meet at the center of the earth. The affairs
of all sentient beings are interwoven in the web, each individual's destiny tied
to its own designated strand. I will stand on one of the four anchors of fate
and make the call that I must."
"Call? Who are you going to call?"
But Clothahump's thoughts seemed to have shifted. "The glade is close enough to
the river so that we may leave our riding snake before we reach it and walk the
rest of the way."
"Why not ride the snake all the way to the river?"
"You do not understand." She could feel his eyes on the back of her neck. "You
will not, until you see the result of what I am to attempt. Such as this," and
he tapped the riding snake's back with a foot, "is but a dumb creature whose
life might not survive even a near confrontation of the sort I have in mind. It
is as strong as it is stupid, and in a panic could be the undoing of all of us.
So we must leave it a day behind when we give it its freedom."
She shrugged. "Whatever you say. But my feet will argue with you." She urged the
snake to a faster pace.
Several days of pleasant travel passed as they journeyed southward. No predator
came near the massive snake, and at night they didn't even bother to set a
watch.
Flores Quintera was a pleasant companion, but what troubled Jon-Tom was not her
dissuasion of his hesitant attempts at intimacy so much as that the excitement
of the trip seemed to make her oblivious to anything else.
"It's everything I ever dreamed of when I was a little girl." She spoke to him
as they sat around the small cookfire. The flames danced in her night-eyes,
prompting thoughts of obsidian spewing from the hearts of volcanoes.
"When I was little I wished I was a boy, Jon-Tom," she told him fervently. "I
wanted to be an astronaut, to fly over the poles with Byrd, to sail the
unexplored South Pacific with Captain Cook. I wanted to be with the English at
Agincourt and with Pizzaro in Peru. Failing a change of gender, I imagined
myself Amelia Earhart or Joan of Arc."
"You can't change your sex," he told her sympathetically, "and you can't go back
in time, but you could have tried for the astronaut training."
She shook her head sadly. "It's not enough to have the ambition, Jon-Tom. You
have to have the wherewithal. Los cerebros. I've got the guts but not the
other." She looked up at him and smiled crookedly. "Then there is the other
thing, the unfortunate drawback, the crippling deformity that I've had to suffer
with all my life."
He stared at her in genuine puzzlement, unable to see the slightest hint of
imperfection.
"I don't follow you, Flor. You look great to me."
"That's the deformity, Jon-Tom, My lack of one. I'm cursed with beauty. Don't
misunderstand me now," she added quickly. "I'm not being facetious or boastful.
It's something I've just had to try and live with."
"We all have our handicaps," he said, not very sympathetically.
She rose, paced catlike behind the fire. Talea was stirring the other one
nearby. Mudge was humming some ribald ditty about the mouse from Cantatrouse who
ran around on her spouse, much to the gruff amusement of Pog. Clothahump was a
silent, brooding lump somewhere off in the darkness.
"You don't understand, do you? How could you imagine what it's like to be a
beautiful animal? Because that's how the world sees me, you know. I did the
cheerleader thing because I was asked to." She paused, stared across the flames
at him. "Do you know what my major is?"
"Theater Arts, right?"