The mare broke out in a sweat, drenching Lynn’s legs. Lynn clutched mane in both hands and shut her eyes. Her mind closed down too—almost, but there was still a crawlspace that knew what to do.

  “Keshua, help us,” she tried to shout, but the words came out in a croak.

  The darkest part of the thundercloud moved over them then. Lightning flashed everywhere, and the overlapping crescendos of thunder hurt Lynn’s ears. She made herself open her eyes—in time to see zigzagging light stab two of the big cats. Wow! Another lightning stab struck overhead, and Lynn heard a cat scream even through the thunder. Something fell off the rock slabs with a bumping noise.

  Aloof One and Lynn cowered in their rock tunnel, but they stared out with eyes that marveled. Everywhere they looked, crisscrossing spears of lightning were killing the cats. Whiskered mouths opened in snarls or screams that couldn’t be heard over the thunder, but the lightning stabbed relentlessly.

  A wind galloped by, and the storm rode it past Munta Hill. The thunder receded and the darkness lightened. When the sun elbowed its way from behind the last of the cloud, Aloof One picked her way out of the tunnel into a wet world. Lynn had to squint at the glistening rocks and sparkling green puddles of water.

  Thank you, thank you--but it wasn’t enough to think it. “Thank you, Great One! Thank you, Keshua,” Lynn stated loudly.

  Aloof One neighed, lifting her head high, and Lynn sang one of the songs of praise that she had learned from the Stallis. Her voice wobbled consistently, but she didn’t care. Her heart meant it.

  When they left the flat gray rocks and dead cats, they climbed through a few trees, stunted in their growth this far up the hill. The path didn’t slant as steeply anymore.

  Did that mean they were nearing the top of Munta Hill?

  Lynn leaned hopefully forward on Aloof One’s neck and strained her eyes; nevertheless, they curved around the hill several more minutes through more trees that resembled overgrown bonsai. Finally the path passed under a rocky overhang and there, a short slope away, Munta Hill ended.

  Medium-sized boulders covered the short slope, but the faithful path wiggled its way through them until it reached a jumble of bigger boulders at the top of the hill. Aloof One began to wind her way along the path, but Lynn didn’t pay any attention to that part of their trip.

  The girl was staring fixedly at the big boulders above her. They lay haphazardly on top of each other, ending in a massive rock that extended several feet over the other side of Munta Hill. As they got closer to the top, she could see that the other side of Munta Hill plunged down into a deep precipice. A wisp of cloud came into view, and the cloud was lower than they were.

  Lynn is not afraid of heights!

  Fortunately that particular statement was more accurate than some of the others. The comers of Lynn’s mouth jerked as if they were thinking about smiling, but the smile never came.

  “That top rock must be Shagger’s dreary rock, Aloof One.

  We’ve made it.”

  Aloof One grunted agreement, and Lynn added, “I’d better say the rhyme.”

  She needed to do the right thing from here on out. No more mess ups! No more mistakes!

  “When two brueggen stones are dropped

  “Over Shagger’s dreary rock,

  “Gefcla’s evil will be stopped.”

  Okay, that’s obvious enough. Lynn drew a deep breath and continued.

  “Obedient hands, don’t hesitate.

  “You have not grown sick and faint,

  “Though the terrors dominate.”

  She took another deep breath and then thought out loud. “The brueggen stones don’t make me feel sick and faint.

  The terrors have dominated and then some. I guess the thing for me to do now is obey without hesitating.”

  Aloof One gave another encouraging grunt and stopped at the bottom of the jumble of boulders. Lynn looked down at her hands. They clung to Aloof One’s mane as if determined to make a Lynn statement all their own.

  “Lynn-hands do NOT let go of mare-mane!” they said, and each fist coiled into a tight dot below its stiff-armed exclamation mark.

  Aloof One couldn’t go any further. She would have to climb the rest of the way by herself. No, not by herself, the Great One would go with her. He was her Father now too, as well as Keshua’s. The problem was she hadn’t had time to let the new relationship sink into her mind—much less her fingers.

  Lynn relaxed her fists, one at a time, and rubbed sweaty hands on Aloof One’s neck. Don’t hesitate. The words spoke themselves in her mind.

  She reached abruptly into her pocket to make sure she still had the brueggen stones and squelched a desire to laugh hysterically. Lynn does not laugh hysterically—but what if she’d arrived at Shagger’s rock only to find she’d lost the brueggen stones on the way!

  The two small rocks pushed reassuringly hard against her fingers, and Lynne slid off Aloof One’s back onto the first boulder.

  That was easy.

  The second boulder proved harder, of course. She had to grasp its edges with her hands, jump, brace her arms, and then scrambled up with her feet—much the same way that she usually mounted Aloof One. She had scrambled up two boulders and was halfway up the third when a voice from above surprised her so much that she almost fell.

  “Congratulations, Lynn!”

  Lynn glanced up quickly. On the surface of Shagger’s rock sat a very handsome, broad-shouldered man. He put his hands on his knees and smiled down at Lynn.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  Don’t hesitate.

  With an effort, Lynn kept climbing.

  His eyes twinkled as he responded. “Don’t you know me? I’ve watched over you as you conquered every difficulty in your way. I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished, and you should be proud too.”

  The handsome man smiled at her again.

  Lynn didn’t respond. Her forehead wrinkled slightly. Something in what the man had said bothered her, but she didn’t understand what and she couldn’t think clearly. The words, don’t hesitate, repeated themselves over and over in her mind.

  “Can you make it up the boulders?” he asked. “Yes,” Lynn said shortly.

  Don’t hesitate.

  “Good. Then you will have finished what I wanted you to do. The Stallis are traveling toward Munta Hill to set up a new camp. They and the Muntas will sing your praises tonight!”

  Lynn didn’t answer. Panting, she pulled herself up another boulder. Two more to go.

  The man sprang to his feet and waited.

  “You’ve done well today, Lynn, very well indeed. Only a few more steps and you will have earned a good long rest and the praise of the whole Tarth world,” he said tenderly.

  Lynn grasped the edge of the next boulder and jumped, but as she scrambled her way up, a mental image of the Stalli camp cheering when they saw her swept into her mind. Chell’s adoring expression stood out from the others—like in my daydream on the desert. The image faded. Lynn was too tired to hold onto it.

  The phrase “a good long rest” promptly took its place. After all, she’d skipped last night’s sleep entirely and taken only a short nap in the middle of a grueling trip. Merely the mention of rest made Lynn notice how her legs ached from the long ride. Her eyelids felt like they’d gained five pounds apiece. How she’d love to sink into a clean bed and let those overweight lids close! She could almost feel a soft pillow coming up around her ears— no, stop it.

  Great One, who is this? Is it really Keshua? Why don’t things feel right?

  With the prayer came a pinprick of understanding. This man was praising Lynn as if she’d done everything that day completely by herself. She hadn’t! Surely, Keshua would realize that.

  The girl’s mouth tightened uneasily, but her shoulders shrugged. She hadn’t known Keshua long. What she did know was that she had a job to do. Don’t hesitate--the words popped back into Lynn’s mind, but they needed reinforcement.

  “When two brueggen stones are dropped

  “Over Shagger’s dreary rock,

  “Gefcla’s evil will be stopped.”

  As she said the familiar words, Lynn studied the side of the last boulder—Shagger’s rock, the biggest of the boulders by far.

  She’d have to jump higher than before to reach Shagger’s top edge, but the roughly uneven nature of the boulder ought to provide toeholds. Once she got a good grip on the top and toed herself far enough up to brace her arms, she should be able to scramble the rest of the way without much trouble.

  Her gaze traveled up the boulder to the man standing on top of it.

  He had stopped smiling when she quoted the first verse of the rhyme. The pupils of his eyes had widened and the wisdom of ages emanated from them.

  Lynn’s mouth fell open.

  In a deep voice, he said, “Yes, when you stand over Shagger’s rock and drop the brueggen stones into my hands, you will fulfill the rhyme. After today, Tarth will call this dreary rock blessed.”

  Lynn’s mouth clamped shut.

  “Obedient hands, don’t hesitate,” she whispered as she jumped once more.

  What does he think I am, stupid?

  Nevertheless, Lynn fumbled as her feet found toeholds, her arms braced, and she finished scrambling upwards. Evidently the terrors hadn’t ended yet. She straightened to a standing position on top of the rock she’d traveled toward for almost twenty-four hours. The man smiled at her and held out his hand, but she walked past him onto the projection that hung over the edge of Munta Hill.

  “Powers of darkness, fill and lift me,” she heard him chant behind her.

  His deep voice sounded more pleasant than ever, but the words themselves were a dead giveaway.

  Lynn’s eyes burned with tears that wanted out. Lynn does not cry, she thought automatically, but her eyes ignored the familiar statement and let tears wet her cheeks. Weakling, she jeered and then made herself stop. Jeering at herself was another mistake.

  “Obedient hands, don’t—“ she began to repeat, but her body shuddered violently, interrupting her.

  The man was floating in the air. As he passed Lynn, she saw that his face was unveiled. Its features were still handsome, but his eyes burned with cruelty and his mouth contorted in hatred. He went into the space beyond the rock projection. Hanging effortlessly above the precipice, he waited for Lynn.

  Somehow she kept walking. It’s Gefcla! her mind wanted to shriek, but the stubborn words don’t hesitate, don’t hesitate pushed the shriek away.

  Lynn gritted her teeth and kept going. She came to the edge of the projection, put a hand in her pocket, and pulled out the two small rocks. They glittered blue-green in the late afternoon light.

  Gefcla leaned forward, cupped his hands, and leered at her. “I’ll take those,” he ordered.

  Lynn held the brueggen stones over Shagger’s rock and dropped them, right into Gefcla’s waiting hands.

  If only she could have thrown the rocks to one side—but the rhyme said drop, so Lynn dropped. She could have howled with misery as she spread her fingers apart, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do that would stay obedient to the rhyme.

  Eagerly Gefcla caught the stones, but when they dropped into the palms of his hands, he gasped with pain and jerked both hands back. The brueggen stones had burned his skin. Down the turquoise rocks fell, down into the far distance, until they disappeared from sight.

  Unfortunately, Gefcla stayed very much there. White with pain and fury, his body grew larger as he said words that no longer sounded the least bit pleasant. He swelled and grew to the size of a Root Forest tree. Then he bent over Lynn, reaching for her with blistered hands, and she screamed.

  A whizzing sound accompanied her scream.

  At the same time, a voice from somewhere behind her shouted, “This is your arrow, Keshua. I give it to you!”

  The arrow flashed in front of Lynn’s wide eyes and buried itself in Gefcla’s heart.

  The gigantic man had started to laugh when he first heard the whizzing sound, but the laughter cut off as he clutched at his breast. His body shrank to its normal size, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he fell, following the brueggen stones out of sight.

  Gefcla was dead.

  Twelve

  Keshua

  Late in the afternoon, Gefcla’s army of Root Forest men arrived at the Stalli campground—what was left of it. Only two of the larger tents remained, and one of them leaned crazily to the left, half of its poles taken down and half left in place.

  The army came to an abrupt halt at the sight and gave their leaders hard glances under beetling brows. Was this why they’d marched for hours under the bright desert sun? Tempers that had simmered all day came close to boiling over.

  “The Stallis have done this to us?” Dogor shrieked, Gefcla’s anger filling him with the knowledge of what to say. “They shot us with arrows and burned our tents. Now, like timidogs, they run away instead of facing us. Why? It is because they fear our fury!”

  Dogor and Barken screamed together, lifting mighty fists toward the sky and shaking them. The Root Forest men began to seethe as the infectious anger entered them.

  “Kill them!” someone shouted.

  “Smash their heads!” another bellowed.

  The hastily departing raiders had left tracks on the red sand, too many for the wind to obliterate in such a short time. As one, Gefcla’s army raged toward them.

  Without warning arrows whistled through the air, and fifty Root men fell, pierced by them.

  The raiders’ horses raced away, but the Root Forest men could see better in the subdued light of late afternoon, and they spotted their attackers this time. Roaring so loudly that the partially dismantled tent fell down behind them, they pursued their enemies. The huge men had walked all that day and the night before, but they could run as swiftly as a herd of horses when they wanted to, and Gefcla’s anger fueled their feet. They gained steadily on the mounts of the raiders.

  “Shoot one more time and then pull your knives,” Winnel yelled.

  The raiders shot their deadly arrows. Fifty more Root men fell, but the rest of the army ran over them in their fury. On Gefcla’s screaming army came.

  Faces taut, the raiders pulled their knives and watched the advancing hordes. One moment the big, gray-haired men ran and screamed. The next moment they stumbled and fell—every one of them.

  Most of the raiders rubbed their eyes in disbelief.

  Over half of the Root Forest men lay on their stomachs, lacking the energy to rise. They sobbed and clutched at the sand in front of them. Others sat up and gaped about, as if they’d forgotten why they were there. A few staggered to their feet, but they reeled and swayed from side to side, hands outstretched to keep their balance.

  Ble and Sho, who had quickly gathered a Munta group and led it out to join the Stalli raiders, knew immediately what had happened. With a shout of exaltation, Sho lifted his knife high above his head.

  “Gefcla is dead!”

  Mouths fell open as the impossible acted itself out in front of them.

  “Gefcla is dead and his followers are abandoned!” Ble yelled his agreement.

  The raiders lifted their knives in unison and shouted their joy. The pink brilliance of sunset shone on the bright blades and covered them, raiders and army alike.

  R

  Lynn peered down the side of the precipice where Gefcla’s dead body had fallen. She didn’t feel relieved; she felt deflated. Her body was tired, her mind was tired, and if there was any part of her that wasn’t tired, she was too tired to think what it might be.

  The pink of sunset lit the hilltop, but Lynn barely noticed it. “What happens now?” she asked, her words slurring together.

  “Persevere and you will see

  “Tarth kept free from tyranny.

  “He who lives eternally

  “Will go with you!”

  The words came from behind her, and Lynn almost fell as she spun around to see who had said them.

  A man stood on Shagger’s rock, smiling at her. He wasn’t handsome like Gefcla. Nothing in his physical features attracted Lynn to him, but she stared straight into his eyes and fell on her knees. Tears welled up in her own eyes, and she brushed furiously at them. Lynn does not ....

  “Go ahead and cry, Lynn,” the man interrupted her automatic response to tears. “Crying isn’t always wrong.”

  “I can’t see you,” she said through her tear screen.

  She wanted to see the man in front of her. She knew he was Keshua. Deep down inside of her, she knew it and she wanted to see him, but her stupid eyes kept filling up with tears!

  Hands grasped her arms, lifting her, and then she was pressed against Keshua’s shoulder, crying all the tears she’d never allowed out. Keshua put his arms around her and bent his head forward to rest upon hers. For the rest of her life, Lynn remembered that hug. She sobbed on and on, but she sobbed within the walls of a fortress, a fortress nobody could break into, ever.

  When she had finished the worst of her cry, Lynn stayed where she was, resting her head against Keshua’s shoulder and making hiccup sobs, until even they went away. Keshua patted her back and smoothed her hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered finally, remembering the things she’d done wrong, not only on the path to Shagger’s rock, but all her life. Her face flushed, and she pressed it into Keshua’s shoulder, wanting to hide. “Oh, Keshua, I’m sorry.”

  “You are forgiven!” Keshua told her joyfully, a light shining in his face that could have illuminated Tarth.

  From her position on his shoulder, she couldn’t see his face, but his voice was enough. She straightened up, smiling. “Will I go back to, uh, that other place?”

  “No, Lynn, you will live here,” he answered gently.

  Lynn thought that over. She wasn’t unhappy with the idea of living in Tarth; no, she wasn’t unhappy. But still....

  “I can’t remember things. Will I forget everything?” she asked hesitantly.