“Who are you?” Moth asked again. He was less afraid now, but growing wildly curious. “Why were you watching us?”
“To help you,” said the man. A tall, lanky fellow, he stooped down to face them, his long, threadbare coat brushing the grass. “You need help, don’t you? You’re lost.”
“We’re not lost,” said Fiona hotly. “We know exactly where we’re going. We have—”
“A map,” Moth jumped in, hoping Fiona wouldn’t mention the star machine. “Besides, it’s not your business where we’re going. How’d you get here anyway?” Moth squinted for a better look him. “You’re a human, aren’t you?”
Once more the man laughed, an unsettling, mad giggle that made Moth cringe. “Oh, yes. As human as the day I stepped through the Reach! And proud of that I am, too. But we talk too much…” He scrunched his head on his shoulders and listened to the night. “We should go now.”
“Go? With you?” Fiona folded her arms. “We’re not going anywhere.”
For the first time the man seemed genuinely annoyed. “I know where you’re going,” he said in a dangerous whisper. “You’re looking for Merceron.”
“Who told you that?” said Moth. He slid toward his coat to protect the star machine, then saw Lady Esme already guarding it.
The man shook his head. “No names, no questions.”
“Moth, we only spoke to that mermaid,” said Fiona. “She must have told him.” She glared at the stranger. “Is that right? Did she tell you about us?”
“We’re running out of time,” said the man. His voice was almost pleading. “In a few more hours the sun will be up. Walking to the hills will take too long.” He hoisted a thumb over his shoulder. “I have a boat ready to go. I’ll row you there, but we have to leave now.”
“Why?” asked Moth. “What are you afraid of?”
The man’s face twisted under his wide hat, as if considering how best to answer. “No,” he said finally. “We can’t talk about it.”
“What do you mean, can’t?” said Fiona.
“Can’t! Can’t!” raved the man. “As in cannot! We can’t speak of any of this. I wouldn’t even be here if Serana hadn’t begged me. The more we talk the more time we give them to sniff us out.”
“Who are you talking about?” asked Moth. “Please, you’re not making any sense.”
“No, that’s it,” snapped the man. “Close your mouth and move your legs. Do it now or I’ll leave without you. I’m risking too much helping you.”
He turned his back and started walking toward the river. Moth and Fiona glanced at each other, stunned by what was happening. They were in danger, probably, but Moth had no idea what kind. Or maybe the man was just a lunatic.
“That mermaid told him to help us,” said Moth. “But why?”
“He’s leaving,” said Fiona. “Should we call him back?”
Moth couldn’t think straight. They hadn’t expected to see another human here, and it was still a long, exhausting walk to the hills. A boat ride would make that a lot easier. And if the man knew Merceron…
“Wait!” Moth called after him. “We’re coming!”
RAPHAEL’S RIVER
THE FIRST HINTS OF DAWN greeted Moth as his eyes fluttered open. He was in the little boat, and didn’t even remember falling asleep. Lady Esme clung to the prow like a figurehead. Near her, Fiona remained blissfully asleep. And there was the stranger in the middle of the boat, positioned between Moth at the bow and Fiona at the stern, rowing slowly and tirelessly toward the hills.
Moth lifted his head and rubbed his forehead. “How long have I been sleeping?” he asked groggily.
“Couple of hours,” the nameless man replied. “You and your friend must be dog tired. You both dropped off talking to each other.”
Moth glanced past him toward Fiona and Esme. Both seemed safe and content. Hadn’t he expected them to be? Moth wasn’t sure. He was grateful for the stranger’s help, but he still had no answers. Remembering the star machine, Moth groped in a panic for his coat. It was right where he’d left it, in the bottom of the boat.
“I told you,” said the man softly, careful not to wake the others. “I’m not a thief.” Then he grinned, adding, “Well, not anymore.”
He had taken off his hat and laid it in the boat, freeing his face of shadows, yet he remained a mystery. He’d simply taken them aboard and shoved off down the river, which wasn’t green anymore but a typical, boring shade of blue. There wasn’t anything magical about the man, either. No tail, no wings; just a man, thin and ragged, like the vagrants that sometimes got off the train in Calio. A wiry brown beard covered his chin and his hair hung limply down his forehead.
“Look there,” whispered the man, craning his neck toward the hills. They’d made good progress while Moth was sleeping. “Another hour or two,” he guessed.
“You’re sure we’ll find Merceron there?” asked Moth.
“Maybe. It don’t really matter. What you’ll find is the sunken forest. That’ll keep you hid.”
He was still talking in riddles. “So you don’t know where Merceron is?”
“Just rumors. That’s all anyone knows. Me, I never seen a dragon in my life. Don’t care to, either.”
Moth slumped. “Great. So what’s so important about this forest?”
The man went on rowing. “Let’s just get you there, all right? I told you—too many questions.”
Moth felt uneasy again. What did he mean, he wasn’t a thief anymore? “Why are you helping us? It makes no sense. Who are you? How’d you get here?”
“If I tell you,” the man whispered, “then you can’t tell another living soul about me. Do you hear? And don’t tell me about yourself either. That would be even worse.”
“I won’t,” said Moth. “I promise.”
“My name is Raphael Ciroyan,” said the man. “From Outer Berne.” His brow crinkled. “Feels good to say it. Been a long time. This boat—made it myself. Didn’t know the first thing about boat making when I got here. Learned it all on my own.”
From the look of the boat that was easy to believe. “Raphael… I never heard that name before.”
“It was my father’s name,” declared the man proudly. “He’s dead now. My mother too. I had a brother when I left the world, but never had much use for him anyway.”
“And you live here? Through the Reach, I mean? By yourself?”
“Not quite by myself,” said the man. A grin stretched across his face. “You know anything about mermaids, boy?”
Moth shook his head. “I didn’t even know they existed till yesterday.”
“And I bet you nearly lost your mind when you saw her, eh? That’s their magic, to turn our heads the way they do. They’re crazy about human men. Whenever one comes through the Reach they try and keep him for themselves. Beautiful creatures, but lonely. Forget what you’re thinking about mermen; there’s no such thing. Just maids. Makes them real hungry for companionship.”
Moth imagined what that was like, loving the idea of living with the mermaids. “So that’s why you came here? For the mermaids?”
“Nah. I didn’t even know they were here. I came across the Reach because I had to. Wasn’t anything left for me in the world. Had folks chasing after me, too. Law types.”
“Oh,” said Moth darkly. “So you are a thief.”
The accusation made Raphael bristle. “You ever been to Outer Berne?”
“No,” Moth admitted. “I’ve never been anywhere but Calio.”
“Calio? Calio’s as soft as the queen’s garters compared to Berne. Real hardscrabble there. Nothing but dead industries, hopelessness. Would you blame a man for stealing to feed himself? That’s all I did.” Raphael’s smile was roguish. “More than once, I admit.”