“We should reach Slopes in a little more than an hour,” Chera estimated.

  “They might be through with lunch. Sometimes they eat early,” Botan commented, knowing what his friend really meant.

  “Leftovers,” Chera mentioned hopefully and Botan nodded.

  Trudging up a long incline, they bounded over its crest and ran down the other side. Hopping over the stream at the bottom of the hill, they strode across a small meadow.

  Chera noted strawberries ripening in the meadow, next to those two boulders, but he didn’t want to stop and pick any now. He would get some on the way back home.

  The two young men passed quickly through the meadow. After they had gone, a breeze rustled in the grass. Then a peculiar grating noise occurred.

  One of the boulders began to move through the strawberries, crushing them underfoot. The other boulder stayed where it was until the first one had reached the stream. Then it moved too.

  When both massive rocks stood beside the stream, a long flat section detached from the first one’s side. The boulder tilted slightly and reached down towards a rock the size of an apple. The end of the stone arm did not divide into fingers, but a short segment of rock served as a thumb of sorts. The thumb and hand grasped the apple-sized rock and pushed it through a small hole that opened in the top part of the boulder. The hole closed and a grinding noise came out of it.

  The Stone Walkers did not eat anything else. They had noses, though the slight indentations were even less discernible than their eye slits. They could smell quite well, however, and they had caught a whiff of freshly cut rock, lots of freshly cut rock. The smell was a distant one, but that didn’t matter. They didn’t need sleep. Stone Walkers could travel night and day. They would get there.

  Purposefully the living boulders crossed the stream and walked in a straight line through the woods, crushing everything in their way.

  Five

  Tragedy

  The exploration group shouted the whole way down the mountainside as they ran toward Chera, Botan, and Flox. The three startled explorers were slapped on their backs and hustled up the mountain. Mindik slapped and hustled along with everyone else, feeling lightheaded with relief.

  “What’s going on?” Chera asked.

  “We’ll tell you—or rather, you’ll tell us, but we need to get away from the trees,” he said laughing immoderately.

  Chera stared at him.

  “Why?” he asked, but Mindik didn’t answer until they got nearer to the base camp.

  “We couldn’t spot a Stone Walker in time if we stayed close to the trees,” he finally explained, charging up the last few yards.

  His younger brother charged after him readily enough, but then he had to bend over, catching his breath. The old mountain might have eroded over the years, but there were still plenty of steep places, and Chera wasn’t one of the regular explorers who ran up and down them every day. He couldn’t talk until he had recovered from the fast climb.

  By then Mindik was practically jiggling in place.

  “I always thought your mind would crack. What on Tarth—” Chera began.

  “Did you research Stone Walkers?” interrupted Mindik quickly.

  “Of course, I did. That’s why I’m here, but—”

  “I found scratches on the sides of a cave opening,” Mindik interrupted again impatiently.

  Now his researcher had arrived, he wanted information. He didn’t want to explain things to Chera; he wanted Chera to explain things to him.

  “Scratches?” Chera repeated incredulously.

  “Yes, scratches!” Mindik exploded, tired of skeptical reactions to the scratches. He couldn’t explode at one of his explorers. It was necessary to stay patient with his team, but now his brother had arrived. What a relief! He could explode at his brother.

  “Deep fresh marks scratched into rock so hard our picks dull themselves on it in one day,” he shouted loudly.

  Mindik didn’t usually get worked up over things. Chera was the one who got excited and had to calm down. It seemed their roles had reversed this afternoon, and Chera didn’t understand why.

  “Calm down, Mindik,” he advised.

  His older brother took a deep breath of air. “Tell me about Stone Walkers. Tell me everything.”

  The noise level around them shrank instantly from a gentle buzz to absolute silence. Everyone leaned forward to listen.

  Shaking his head, Chera reached into a pocket for his notes. Mindik was a stickler over note taking. No one could remember everything they researched, he always said, especially not someone with half a brain. Chera usually lunged for him at that point in their conversation; however, he did take notes when doing research.

  He looked around one more time and then reported his findings.

  “A Stone Walker is basically a big boulder, though it can walk, communicate with other Stone Walkers, and pick up the smaller rocks that form its basic food supply. Most of the time it moves slowly, but if its anger is aroused, it upgrades into an attack speed. If it touches an animal or a person, its victim stiffens into a hard, seemingly petrified body.”

  A number of gasps broke from the group.

  Chera glanced up from his notes, puzzled by such a strong reaction. Mindik and Pesom didn’t seem surprised, but the other explorers were either gaping with widely opened mouths or hugging themselves tightly with nervous arms. Several were doing both.

  “You’ve seen more than a few scratches, haven’t you?” he asked.

  “We found two dead animals in the woods. Their bodies had petrified,” Mindik said.

  Chera gawked at him. His attitude toward the situation underwent a rapid change, and he blinked toward the forest at the base of the mountain.

  “If we stay up here, a Stone Walker can’t surprise us, but what about at night?”

  Mindik assured him, “I set guards last night. No clouds were covering the sky, and the nightlights produced enough light for us to see. A moving boulder could hardly creep up on us.”

  “Did you say those scratches were fresh?” asked Chera and continued on without waiting for an answer. “Do you think the Stone Walker might return to its old cave?”Everyone there had already asked themselves the same question. A chorus of differing answers broke out, and Chera made up an opinion on the spot and began arguing it.

  Despite the gravity of the situation, Mindik watched him with amusement. His little brother could insert himself into any group instantly. Picking up the rest of Chera’s notes, he studied them.

  “The eyes, huh,” he muttered, glad to find anything vulnerable about the walking rocks.

  “Mindik,” a quiet voice said, and he turned to see Pesom’s intense face.

  “If the Stone Walker did go back into its cave, do you think we could close things up again? Trap it somehow?” the young woman asked.

  He stared at her. It was so simple.

  “Listen, everyone. Pesom has had an idea. If the Stone Walker does return, and I think it might—as I understand it, this is its home—we should let it go in and then close off the entrance.”

  “How?” asked several people.

  “Stage a rockslide,” Botan suggested and smirked.

  Mindik grinned at him, remembering the avalanche that had almost killed his friend on Rosehip Mountain. Botan had bragged about his avalanche ever since. He noticed Chera grinning too. However, Pesom, who had also been there when the thunderous rush of green snow covered their friend, was scowling.

  He spoke quickly before she could say anything. “We’ll have to stage a big one and we need to keep watch on the entrance to the Stone Walker’s cave.”

  They spent the rest of the afternoon organizing. As a result, Chera found himself hiding beyond a rock that evening, staring anxiously at a dark opening in the mountainside.

  He was supposed to watch the slope below it too, but it was hard somehow to turn away from that opening. Even when he did spend a few minutes inspecting the rest of his assigned area and found everything perfectly normal, he couldn’t relax. The last light of day made it look as if every rock on the mountain was walking towards him.

  Without warning all those rocks turned pink.

  The sun had set, and the beautiful pink that meant a Tarth sunset had covered the whole mountain. Chera shook his head at the irony of the day’s events. Was it only this morning he had anticipated seeing a sunset?

  Now he wished the pink glow would go away and quit distracting him. He wiggled into a more comfortable position, but he couldn’t see the forest there and crawled to the other side of his rock without making any noise. Mindik had told everyone to stay quiet. If a boulder walked up Slopes on its way home, it mustn’t hear anything that might keep it from going back inside the mountain.

  During the afternoon, Chera had helped construct a wooden wall on the steepest place possible above the cave entrance. The wall slanted down the slope and was kept from falling by strong ropes on its sides. He and the other explorers had made a start at gathering rocks and piling them together in a heap that leaned against the wall. When they cut the ropes, the wall would collapse and the piled rocks would cascade down the mountain, filling in the opening to the cave.

  That was the plan, but they needed to gather a lot more rocks to make sure it worked. Not every rock would fall into the cave; many, if not most, would continue down the mountainside. They had to gather enough rocks to make sure the opening got covered.

  Another day of work would make a big difference.

  R

  Lynn leaned on the sink and stared out her kitchen window. Bumble should have left for archery practice long before now; however, the afternoon was passing by and no young woman had stumbled down the porch stairs and headed off toward the rock quarry. Where was she?

  “If I have to go over there,” Lynn threatened under her breath, but just then her next door neighbor’s door opened.

  It was Bumble, and she certainly did stumble down the porch steps, but she had a water bucket in her hand.

  Don’t judge before you know the situation, Lynn cautioned herself as she snatched up her own water bucket. The bucket still held a gallon of water, but that didn’t stop Lynn; it hardly even slowed her down. Pulling out her largest pot, she dumped every drop into it. Then she marched out the door and over to the well.

  “Hello. Aren’t you going to the target?” she called cheerfully.

  When Bumble lifted her head, Lynn’s hands gripped the handle of her bucket unnecessarily hard. She leaned forward and scrutinized the girl’s face.

  “Your eyelids are swollen,” she stated in a tightly controlled tone of voice.

  “I know. They get this way sometimes,” Bumble mumbled.

  “What happened to practicing archery today?” Lynn asked, trying to relax her frowning mouth with limited success.

  “I’m late with my chores. I can’t go until I’ve finished them.”

  “Is this your last chore?” Lynn asked, motioning toward the bucket of water. Her mouth had relaxed with the question, and her lips were beginning to twitch.

  “Yes,” Bumble responded with a trace more life in her voice.

  Lynn’s smile broadened. “Okay then, you go straight to the quarry, and I’ll carry the bucket back to your cabin.”

  “They won’t like it,” Bumble said uncertainly.

  “I’ll talk to them,” insisted Lynn.

  Bumble shifted her eyes to one side.

  “I’ll be nice. The Plete will help me. Now scoot,” Lynn told her as she reached out for the girl’s bucket. Stumbling three times before she got to the path, Bumble disappeared into the woods. Only then did Lynn carry the water bucket up the steps of her neighbor’s cottage and knock on the door.

  “Bumble’s eyelids are swollen,” she said as soon as the door opened.

  Finken’s head cocked. “Are they now? Is that why she didn’t bring our water bucket back?”

  “No, I told her to go to the quarry and I would bring you the water,” Lynn told him.

  Finken’s lips puckered into their pecking mode.

  “She’s not your child,” he reminded her.

  She’s not your child either, Lynn wanted badly to say, but she restrained herself. She had promised Bumble she would be nice.

  “No, she’s not my child, but she is my neighbor. I wanted her to practice archery because she likes it and should be encouraged to do things she likes. Her swollen eyelids worry me though. Do you think she’s coming down with a cold?”

  “Probably. She sniffled some this morning,” Finken answered quickly.

  “I’ll give her extra tonic. My mother used to give it to me whenever I got sick. It’ll ward off the cold,” Faso chimed in, coming to stand beside her husband in the doorway.

  Lynn hesitated.

  “We’ll take care of Bumble. We don’t want her to catch a cold any more than you do,” Finken said.

  Lynn nodded. She turned silently and went down the porch steps, almost stepping on Sunshine who had laid down in a patch of warm sunlight on the bottom step. Sunshine started up with a complaining yowl, and Lynn apologized to her.

  “I’m sorry, Sunshine. I didn’t see you.”

  Bending down, she stroked the cat’s thick yellow hair, and Sunshine arched her back under Lynn’s touch.

  Faso laughed. “Oh, Sunshine’s fine. It’s a wonder I don’t step on her more. She’s always wherever she shouldn’t be.”

  “I know. Stupo is the same way,” Lynn responded without looking back.

  Finken continued to stare out the door at his neighbor crossing the yard. Faso peered at him, at Lynn, and then at her husband again. Lynn normally walked much faster to be sure, but—

  Her husband’s eyes narrowed, and he paid no attention to the big yellow cat when she sauntered past them into the kitchen. It was time for Sunshine to eat. She announced that important fact with a demanding mew.

  “All right, all right, I’m getting it,” Faso muttered, grunting as she bent over for the cat dish.

  “I think Lynn’s close to calling in a healer,” Finken muttered, closing the door and walking over to the corner desk.

  “You do?” Faso responded, spooning leftover stew into the dish.

  Finken remained silent for a few minutes.

  “We’re close too,” he finally said.

  “We are?” asked Faso, not really paying attention.

  She put the filled dish on the floor, and Sunshine crouched above it, sniffing suspiciously as she always did. Faso straightened up with another grunt.

  “The drawer’s almost full,” her husband said.

  “It is?” she answered absently, and he snorted.

  “Listen when I talk to you. I’ve decided to leave Bumble here.”

  Finken had always enjoyed making plans for the future day when they would move to Munta Hill. Faso lowered herself to her rocking chair with relief. She really ought to lose weight.

  She was ready to talk now and suggested, “I don’t know. She might come in handy. What about the chores?”

  “We’ll have money enough for servants and whatever else we want,” Finken reminded her.

  “That’s true,” she agreed happily.

  Sunshine had finished her meal and jumped onto the kitchen counter. Faso watched her stalk across it. She always crossed the counter on the very edge of the sink, but she never fell in—she never even slipped. Hopping nimbly onto the windowsill, the big yellow cat picked up a paw and licked it over and over before rubbing it briskly on her face.

  “Give the girl extra tonic when she gets back,” Finken ordered.

  “I will. Tonic will ward off the cold Lynn’s so worried about.”

  Finken gave a little half-laugh.

  “If Lynn gets in my way one more time,” he began but didn’t finish the sentence.

  Sunshine paused in her face washing and stared into the kitchen sitting area. Faso’s mouth trembled.

  “Lynn’s pretty friendly. Has us over and everything,” she murmured.

  Her husband didn’t reply at first. He pursed his lips and then said in such a low tone Faso barely caught the words, “I’ll leave her alone if she leaves me alone.”

  R

  At the quarry, Bumble tried hard to focus. Carefully she lifted each arrow, aimed, lowered her bow slightly, and then shot. When the arrows were gone, she stared in amazement at the painted circles. All the long feathered shafts stuck out of the small yellow circle in the middle.

  “I’m getting better,” she whispered, looking around as if she wanted Chera to see. No tall blue-eyed young man materialized. Only the sounds of Chell and Loraf cutting stones on the other side of the quarry kept her company.

  “Maybe people will like me now. Maybe I’ll get stronger and make friends,” she said a little louder.

  Bumble walked to the target and pulled an arrow out of it almost quickly. Then she pulled out another, but by the time all the arrows were back in their quiver, she’d lost her lift of spirits. Her head drooped as she walked back to the storage shed.

  Consequently she bumped her forehead hard on the edge of the shed’s open door and dropped to the ground, trying not to cry. She had to stop crying so much. It made her eyelids swell. Lynn had noticed her swollen eyes, and if Lynn mentioned them to her aunt and uncle, they would scold her.

  The tears came anyway and she whispered, “I can’t help it. I want to die and go to the Great One. He loves me. Nobody else does.”

  A mental picture of Lynn’s warm blue eyes drifted into her mind and that helped. Bumble sat up straighter and gingerly touched her face. Her eyes felt sore again. They were probably swollen.

  She stared listlessly into the woods. Chera would come back. He had said he would, and Chera didn’t lie. Usually that thought helped too, but today it didn’t make any difference. He wasn’t here now. Several minutes passed before she realized she’d closed her eyes. Her head had sunk down onto her chest.

  With an effort she rose to her feet and put the bow and arrows into the shed. Then she started for home. She needed a nap before starting supper. Maybe, if she were lucky, she’d go to sleep and not wake up.