One Realm Beyond (Realm Walkers)

by Donita K. Paul

  “Bother!”

  An alarm registered in Cantor’s brain. He didn’t like people or dragons to disappear.

  “Bridger, can’t you locate her with the connection you have as siblings?”

  “I’ve tried, but she’s always been pretty clever at shielding herself when she wants to do something she shouldn’t.”

  Cantor turned to Bixby. “How about you? You two had the thought-reading connection down even before we got to the vilta.”

  She shook her head and finished chewing before speaking. “No, she’s out of range or something.”

  “Use one of your tiaras. Surely you have one to help you locate people.”

  Bixby huffed as she pulled out her tiara hamper. “Why are you so upset? She’s probably gone shopping. We’ve all been pushed until we’re ready to snap. And she’s done all this memorizing and stamina building before. It really isn’t fair that they’re making her do it all again.”

  Bridger stopped eating to comment. “Dukmee told me they want her to be a part of the team. If she didn’t go through the program with us, we wouldn’t have the shared experiences in exactly the same way. Besides . . .”

  The brother’s grin reminded Cantor of the expressions he’d seen on human siblings’ faces. Ornery and smug. “Go on. Besides . . . ?”

  “Training is supposed to make you humble. My sister could use a dose of humility.” Once the words were out, he looked embarrassed to have spoken them. He hurried to explain. “Well, you have to understand. I’m proud of her. She’s amazing. But sometimes she knows just how fabulous she is, and it shows.”

  Bixby placed a crown on her head.

  Cantor wondered how much it weighed. The massive headdress combined filigreed gold, plush red velvet, emeralds, rubies, and diamonds. Only Bixby could wear the monstrosity and not look absurd.

  By all rights, she should. He’d known ten-year-olds taller than she was. And since he’d carried her all the way down the running hill, he knew she didn’t weigh as much as a feather pillow. And her hair? Well, maybe her bushy blonde explosion of hair actually helped offset the size of the crown.

  His mind came back to the missing Totobee-Rodolow. “Well?”

  Bixby scowled at him. “Wait a minute. I just put it on. And be quiet.”

  She closed her eyes and looked beautifully serene. He was about to quiz her when she frowned.

  “What is it?” he asked at the same time Bridger demanded, “What’s wrong?”

  Her eyes flew open, and she glared with her lips pressed together in an angry line. “Would you take it easy? Let me concentrate.”

  She returned to her closed-eyed, meditative look. Cantor had to remind Bridger twice not to speak. The dragon would open his mouth and Cantor would pinch his arm, along with shaking his head and putting a finger to his lips.

  At last, Bixby opened her eyes. “Nothing.”

  Cantor pushed his plate away. “I think we should take this seriously. Let’s go to the markets.”

  Bixby’s eyes glowed. “All of them?”

  Cantor laughed in spite of his concern. “Yes.” As he stood, he slapped Bridger on the back. “You’ll have to fly us, Bridge.”

  Bixby stood and looked around the room. The servants were now having their dinner at tables lined up against the wall right outside the kitchen door. Everywhere she went, Bixby had always had an easy camaraderie with the household servants. These men and women had snobbery down to an art. She didn’t trust them to not snitch on her and her friends should they do anything unusual. “Don’t we have to get permission?”

  Bridger cast an eye at the servants as well. “I’m not sure we’d get it.”

  “Dukmee isn’t in here.” Cantor stilled. The tension from his two companions climbed his spine in a series of warning shivers. “Act natural. We don’t want to draw attention to our departure. Let’s just head for our rooms, and when we get to the dormitory wing of the vilta, we’ll slip outside.”

  Before they left, Cantor got a jacket. Flying at night was cold business. Bridger tried to leave Jesha in their room, but the cat slipped out the door every time they attempted to shut her inside.

  “I guess she’s coming,” said Cantor after the third try.

  “You’re a nuisance, cat.” Bridger gestured. “Come on.”

  They got away without any interference from the staff. Oddly, no one seemed to care whether they went to study or swim or run away completely. That by itself made Cantor suspicious.

  Bridger enlarged himself so he could accommodate two riders comfortably. He also shape-shifted a double saddle with large handles to hold on to and slots in his sides to use as stirrups. When Bixby rode Totobee-Rodolow, she needed a girth strapped around the dragon.

  “Bridger,” she said, “you are a superior mor dragon.”

  “Tell that to the realm walker riding behind you.”

  “Oh, he knows.”

  Cantor ignored them. “Let’s go to the market farthest away, then work our way back.”

  Bixby agreed. “That would be Plainsmen Plaza. Totobee-Rodolow and I have some favorite vendors there. If she’s been there, it should be easy to find someone who’s seen her.”

  The nighttime atmosphere of the market sparkled and chimed much more than the quiet daytime business. Housekeepers and serious customers had gone home to bed. Cantor remembered festivals back home where friends and neighbors danced through town. This crowd had a brittle edge to it, as if the revelers partied to relieve frustration, not to celebrate life.

  In the evening air, the scent of fruits and flowers permeated the atmosphere. Each booth had strings of lanterns to light their wares. Bixby exclaimed over the dainty, more plentiful lights decorating some shops.

  “I want to learn how to make these.”

  “Later,” said Cantor, scowling at the people passing.

  In the background, a band played with lots of flutes, bells, and handheld harps dominating the music. And under all the forced gaiety, the current of anger drained the atmosphere of joy.

  Bridger had withdrawn in size and in manner. He stalked through the aisle, looking at everyone suspiciously. Bixby stopped to look at the merchandise.

  Cantor took her elbow and steered her away from a table filled with patterned cloth. “Bixby, ask the shopkeepers and vendors if they’ve seen Totobee-Rodolow.”

  “I’ve remembered to ask. So far, no one has seen her.” She bounced and pointed. “Look at those scarves.”

  “We aren’t here to shop. Come on.”

  “All right. I know. It’s just been a long time since we’ve been to market. If we were living at the Moor, I bet we’d get to walk around town more.”

  A hawker stopped his spiel to watch them. Cantor whispered, “Ask this man.” And guided Bixby to his stall.

  Bixby fingered the rows of braided material. Dozens of brilliant colors made up each cloth rope. She lifted her eyes to the surly man studying the group. “I think they’re gorgeous. How much for this one?” After paying for her new bit of pretty, she smiled. Her relaxed manner gave no indication of her concern. “I’m looking for my dragon friend, Totobee-Rodolow. Do you know her?”

  With his eyes narrowed, the man snarled, “No.”

  Cantor took a step forward, but Bixby seemed to take no notice of the man’s tone. “She’s absolutely stunning. You’d remember her if you saw her. She particularly likes to look at fabrics, jewelry, and gifts. She sends presents home to her family and friends.”

  “Listen, missy, if you’re finished looking at my wares, go away.” His anger was out of proportion to the circumstances, and alarmed Cantor.

  He and Bridger stepped up, taking protective stances beside Bixby.

  Cantor’s chin jutted out. “No need to be rude to the lady.”

  The vendor sneered. “You buying?”

  “Not from you.” Cantor guided Bixby away. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Bridger fell behind the two.

  Bixby took hold of Cantor’s arm and floa
ted next to him. He could tell she no longer took steps, and her head was closer to his shoulder than when she stood on the ground.

  “Don’t worry.” Her voice rang like the bells in the background music. “I really am a big girl, and I’ve traveled extensively. I can handle a gruff old man. I suppose he didn’t sell much today.”

  “With that kind of salesmanship, it’s a wonder he sells anything.”

  Bixby’s eyes twinkled. “His ropes are gorgeous.” She pointed up ahead. “There’s a row of vendors down that side street. We bought a lot of things there.”

  They rounded the corner, and Cantor could tell why this was a favorite part of the market. Fabrics, laces, and ladies’ apparel hung from every available spot.

  Cantor and Bridger stayed back as Bixby approached the first booth. “Hello, Seller Dakkon. Have you seen Totobee-Rodolow today?”

  The man, who had been wearing a smile, turned away and said, “Don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “My friend, Seller Dakkon. She’s a mor dragon. We shopped here often several months ago.”

  “Don’t remember her. Don’t remember you.”

  “But — ”

  Cantor took her arm. “Come on. Let’s try another shop.”

  Bixby lowered her voice. “Why is he acting like that? What’s wrong?”

  Bridger poked his nose between them. “He’s lying. And he’s scared.”

  Bixby asked sharply, “Why?” Her companions shushed her.

  She insisted on asking at the next stall. The woman said she hadn’t seen Totobee-Rodolow and barely remembered what she looked like.

  As they stepped back into the stream of nighttime shoppers, Bridger snorted. “She doesn’t remember what my sister looks like? Another liar.”

  The next stop, the vendor loudly claimed he hadn’t ever sold Bixby merchandise and hadn’t seen any dragons all day. After looking around, he ducked his head toward Bixby and whispered. “Best go, miss. The crowd can get rambunctious. There’s lots of drinking and they get stirred up. I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”

  “Thank you, Seller Wren. I don’t think we’re going to learn anything tonight.”

  The man’s voice rose in volume. “That’s right, miss. Too many citizens come through these aisles for anyone to keep track of who was here and who wasn’t.”

  Again, Bridger expressed indignation. “Hasn’t seen a dragon all day? That’s a lie. There are always dragons in the market. We like the color and the frenzy of busy shoppers. It’s stimulating. On Effram, most of the dragons in our valley went to markets for entertainment.”

  Bixby sighed. Her shoulders drooped, and her smile had disappeared beneath anxious concern. “Should we go to the other markets?”

  Cantor put his hands on her waist, picked her up, and deposited her on Bridger’s back. “What do you think, Bridger? Should we look for Totobee-Rodolow in the other markets?”

  “No. Wait until we get to the side street and I’ll tell you what I think.”

  They walked in silence until they found a deserted street, wide and well lit by the moon.

  “Tell us your theory, Bridger,” said Cantor. “And I’ll tell you mine.”

  “I think my sister was here today. I think something happened that no one wants to talk about for fear the same thing will happen to them.”

  Bixby gasped. She leaned forward to give Bridger a hug around his thick, scaly neck.

  Cantor nodded. “That’s much the same as I was thinking. I wonder if everyone saw, or one person saw and spread the word to take care.”

  Bixby sat up but stroked the back of Bridger’s neck. “I want to go back to the vilta.”

  “I agree. Coming aboard, Bridger.” He vaulted up as the dragon stood and enlarged his body.

  Bridger flapped his wings as he often did to shake out the kinks before taking flight. “I suggest we find Dukmee when we return. Perhaps he can make inquiries.”

  Bixby shivered. “You don’t think that maybe she just went home?”

  Cantor put his arms around her for a reassuring hug. “No, people wouldn’t be afraid if that were the case. Those people were scared. Totobee-Rodolow is in trouble.”

  MEETING IN THE NIGHT

  Bridger winged over the city amidst trailing fogs behind thicker clouds. Like cumbersome mountains, the clouds piled up on the horizon and obscured the moon. The air chilled. The darkness deepened.

  The yellow lantern lights of the city gave way to outlines of dark trees, ponderous rolling waves of tilled farmlands, and black ribbons of roads. Everything wallowed in murky hues of nighttime gray. Bixby’s mood sank in the heavy atmosphere.

  Ahead of her, Jesha sat between Bridger’s ears like a sentinel. Behind her, Cantor provided a windbreak against the rush of the dragon’s wings, and he’d also wrapped his arms around her. Comfortable and secure physically, she wished her imagination would let go of dire scenes in which Totobee-Rodolow suffered and needed rescue.

  Bixby rested her head on Cantor’s chest, closed her eyes, and tried to dream of a happy ending to this day.

  The dragon’s voice rumbled under her seat. “That looks interesting.”

  “It does, indeed.” Cantor gave Bixby a little shake. “Wake up.”

  “I’m not asleep.” She sat up, then leaned to look where he pointed. Far below she saw a farmhouse with all the windows lit and a dozen carriages standing along the road and in the yard. Small fires appeared as glowing gems dotting the open areas between the house and the coaches.

  As she straightened, Cantor’s excitement passed through her. His mind hummed with anticipation. “Bridger, let’s go in for a closer look.”

  The dragon responded to Cantor’s request, making a wide circle and a lower approach to the house from a different angle.

  Cantor counted while Bixby looked for distinguishing marks on the vehicles.

  “Eleven,” said Cantor.

  “No crests — I think they’ve been covered up. But every one of those carriages is expensive.”

  Cantor vibrated with excitement. “Let’s land and see what they’re up to.”

  Bixby caught his raging curiosity, but just for sanity’s sake, she thought she should voice an objection. “You don’t think we should check back with Dukmee first?”

  “He’d say we should investigate.”

  “He might want to report to the guild and let them send full-fledged realm walkers.”

  “Bixby, I’m betting the men meeting in the middle of the night, in the middle of a rural area, are none other than realm walker councilmen up to no good.”

  “In that case, we better skip the formalities.”

  “Right!” cheered Bridger, and he dove for the nearest clear field.

  A hill rose between the spot where they landed and the farmhouse. During their descent, Bixby had watched for any sign that they’d been seen. Some men, probably drivers and groomsmen, huddled together near the fires. Most seemed intent on the games they played, several slept, and two men watched the road. At the approach of the dragon, the horses skittered a bit, but not enough to alarm the men whose job it was to see to their welfare.

  When she and Cantor stood beside Bridger, she relayed what she’d seen. “I don’t think much of the councilmen’s servants. None of them seem concerned about their masters’ business being disrupted.”

  “That’s good for us,” said Bridger. “I propose that I sneak in and hear what they’re doing.”

  Cantor cocked an eyebrow. “Sneak in as what?”

  The dragon’s arms held Jesha. “A cat, of course.”

  Bixby approved, and she almost gave a hurrah when Cantor agreed.

  “Good idea,” he said. “But first, let’s get a clear picture of where everyone is from the crest of the hill.”

  They climbed the hill, then dropped to crawl the last few feet so they wouldn’t be silhouetted against the sky. It was dark enough to make the possibility slim, but they chose to be careful.

  Cantor pulled a spyglass
from his store of realm walker gear. “What do you have in your tiara hamper to help us learn what these men are up to?”

  “Listening, mind-probe, aura-reader, obscure, action control — ”

  “We don’t need the aura-reader. We assume these men are all bent toward evil. If Bridger’s going in, we don’t need listener or obscure. Mind-probe?”

  “Yes.”

  “I wouldn’t recognize any of the councilmen. Would you?”

  “No.”

  “Why don’t you see if you can get a list of names? And also who tends to stick together. We can use it to our advantage if there is more than one faction.”

  Bixby fitted a crown on her head. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to be lookout. I don’t want one of those men to spot us. I’ll also use that ear focusing you taught me the first day we met. Remember?”

  She grinned and nodded. “I thought you were pretty lame not to know how to tune in to a conversation.”

  She knew he wasn’t offended when she saw a flash of his white teeth in the dark.

  “I thought you were lame for wearing all those clothes.”

  “I’ve been lame once as a horse.” Bridger’s voice came from beside them. He sat with Jesha, two cats ready for an adventure.

  Cantor reached out and stroked Bridger’s head and shoulders. “You’re a beautiful cat, but I’m not sure about your color. Even without the moon, I can tell you’re greenish.”

  “Oh! I forgot.” The cat’s fur faded into a mottled, dark color.

  Bixby picked him up and gave him a quick cuddle.

  “Hey!” objected Cantor. “Leave the dragon some dignity.”

  Bridger purred and rubbed his head against Bixby’s chin. “I don’t mind.”

  Bixby stilled. Holding the cat close, she forced her question out. “Do you think these men had something to do with Totobee-Rodolow’s disappearance?”

  In her arms, the Bridger-cat bristled. Cantor’s white smile vanished in the dark. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Cantor watched Jesha follow Bridger down the hill. They crossed the yard among the carriages, horses, and men without raising an alarm. Obviously, two cats on a farm were not noteworthy. As bold as a rooster in his own henhouse, the two pranced up the front steps, strolled along the veranda, leapt in an open window, and vanished from Cantor’s sight.