Daum remounted Bayby, saying, “I’m going to go check on the others, then ride back up to join Lizeth before we get out of this clear area.” He turned the horse, then paused for a moment, “Really, I should be out at the far point since I can sense possible threats a long way away. I can’t think of a good reason to give Lizeth for why I should be out there though. Can you?”
Anxious to try porting different shapes out of the chunk of wood, Daussie numbly shook her head and turned back to the front.
She was vaguely aware of her dad going back to visit those in the wagon, then trotting further back to talk briefly with Tarc. When he rode back toward the front, she put up a hand to halt him, then held out the two agate beads. She’d drilled perfect little holes through them. As he stared at them in astonishment, she bent over and picked up another chunk of wood. What other shapes can I port out of something? she wondered.
Daum said, “That’s amazing.” He held out the third agate bead and grinned, “You mind drilling a matching hole in this one?”
Chapter One
Wanting to catch up to the Norton caravan, they’d kept the wagon rolling until they barely had time for the animals to graze a bit and eat some grain before dark. Tarc found it frustrating to have to stop because their ghosts could have let them follow the road a few more hours in the dark.
Then Henry Roper had insisted they eat cold traveling food so a cook fire wouldn’t draw bandits to a lone wagon in the dark. Of course, Henry had no idea how much more dangerous it’d be for the bandits than it would’ve been for their little group.
The Hyllises didn’t want him to know either.
Kazy fell asleep early that night, giving the Hyllis family an opportunity to talk privately. The Ropers had set up a little tent. Lizeth and the Hyllises had unrolled their bedrolls side-by-side under the wagon, but Lizeth was taking the first watch so the Hyllises were alone under there. Once Kazy fell asleep, Eva quietly said, “Daussie, Daum showed me your agates. They’re amazing.”
“Agates?” Tarc asked.
“Yeah,” Daum said. He held out his hand, “Here.”
At such a short distance, Tarc’s ghost showed him Daum had something in his fingers even though the agate was cool. Tarc took it, expecting a stone, but instead he felt a perfect little sphere. “What’s this?” he asked, surprised.
Daum said, “I gave her a big chunk of agate that was lying in the road. She teleported these three perfect little spheres out of it. You can’t see them in the dark, but they’re very pretty.”
“So…” Tarc said thoughtfully, “you’re thinking there’s a market for them?”
“Yeah, I’ll bet Milton could make necklaces and bracelets out of them,” Daum said. “Especially, because Daussie’s learned she can use her talent to drill little holes through them.”
A frisson of excitement washed over Tarc, “Drill holes?!”
“I don’t really ‘drill’ a hole,” Daussie said. “Actually, the way I think of it is that I’m teleporting a tiny cylinder out of the ball. It leaves a hole through it from one side to the other. Mr. Milton should be able to use the holes to string the beads.”
“I thought you could only teleport little balls out of things?!” Tarc asked a little indignantly.
“Spheres were the only things I’d cut until dad asked me if I could cut little tunnels through the balls. It turns out cutting other shapes isn’t particularly hard, as long as the shape’s something I can visualize.”
“So, you could make little beads that were cylinders, or cubes, or something like that?”
“I guess, though I was thinking more about how I could hollow out wire to make hypodermic needles…”
A brief silence reigned as everyone pondered that possibility. Eva had only had a few needles left, all remnants from the time of the ancients. Those needles had been sharpened so many times over the years that they were quite short. And one of those had been lost when they fled the king’s palace.
Haltingly, Eva said, “Are you saying you think you could make more IV needles?”
“Um, yes,” Daussie said, sounding like she thought that’d been obvious from what she’d said before. “And I think I could sharpen them by cutting away a little bit of metal.”
“What?”
“When I was practicing today, in addition to teleporting out little balls or cylinders, I also figured out that I could cut out thin little discs. It takes me about a second to teleport out a ball about a centimeter (0.4 inches) in diameter. In about the same amount of time, I can cut out an incredibly thin little disk about one and a half centimeters in diameter. Actually, I’ve kind of stopped thinking of it as teleporting out a disk and started thinking of it as just making a cut that size. I made a disk-shaped cut like that, at a steep angle through a stick. Afterward, the stick felt sharp at the edge of the bevel. I think I could do the same thing with metal needles… You know, cut through the needle at a steep angle that’d leave a sharp point.”
Kazy said, “A one-centimeter sphere and a thin 1.41-centimeter disk would have the same surface area… What’s teleporting?”
A dead silence reigned as the rest of the Hyllises realized Kazy had awakened. After a few moments, Eva said cautiously, “Um, sorry Kazy. When did you wake up? I mean, what’s the first thing you remember hearing?”
Kazy replied, “I woke when Tarc was so excited. He said, ‘Drill holes?!’”
Daussie turned her head toward her mother and whispered, “Um… Kazy knows where the sun is.”
Kazy said, “I can hear you, Dauss, even when you whisper. Why wouldn’t I know where the sun is?”
Another silence stretched, this time so long Tarc felt embarrassed no one had responded to Kazy. On the other hand, he didn’t think it was his place to interject any comments.
Finally, Daum asked, “Kazy, are the Ropers still in their tent?”
“Yeah…” Kazy said, sounding frustrated, then going silent. As the silence drew out, Tarc got the impression that Kazy had just realized she wouldn’t have known where the Ropers were in the past. Finally, wonderingly, she said, “I didn’t use to know where the sun was at night… did I?”
Another silence stretched. Eventually, Daum said, “I doubt it. Most people have no idea.”
Softly, Kazy asked, “What’s teleporting?”
This time Eva answered. “Teleporting means moving something… without it passing through the intervening space.”
“What?”
“She focuses on something and makes it suddenly appear somewhere else.”
“And… Daussie can do that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I guess I have to wait till morning to see this, right?”
“Yeah. You wouldn’t be able to see anything in the dark.”
“But—”
“Lizeth’s coming this way,” Daum interrupted in a whisper. “Walk with Eva or me tomorrow and we’ll try to explain this stuff to you.” He shifted position, turning up on his side, “For now, let’s all try to get some rest.”
“But, I’ll never get back to sleep,” Kazy said plaintively.
No one responded. Tarc didn’t think he’d get back to sleep either.
***
Kazy felt exhausted when Eva woke her in the morning. Like many teenagers, she hated getting up in the morning, but this seemed worse. She was coming back from the bushes where she’d emptied her bladder before she remembered what’d kept her up so late.
Arriving back at the wagon she stared at her cousins. They were going about their morning chores in the usual fashion. As if nothing’s different! she thought. Then she realized that for them, nothing had changed. Well, I guess they’ve always known that Daussie could teleport things, but apparently Tarc just learned that she can do something new. Drill holes. Teleport shapes. What’s all that mean?
Kazy went directly to Daussie at the woodstove. She was cracking eggs into diced potatoes in the frying pan. Kazy said, “What was all that about you teleporting stuff?!”
“I’m making breakfast,” Daussie said, sounding indignant at being interrupted—though the crinkle at the corner of her eye suggested she was amused. “Besides, you’re supposed to ask Eva or Daum.”
“Come on! You’ve got to tell me something!”
“Hold out your fist.”
Surprised by this non sequitur, Kazy nonetheless held out her fist.
Seemingly ignoring Kazy, Daussie just kept stirring the eggs and potatoes.
Finally, in some frustration, Kazy said, “Well?!”
With a slight lift of her chin, Daussie said, “Open your hand.”
Puzzled, Kazy opened her hand. To her astonishment, it held a sticky, disgusting mess. Is that egg? she wondered. She turned to stare at Daussie, catching an amused look on her face. “You did that?!” she asked, partly irritated and partly amazed.
Daussie nodded. “Hand me the plates,” she said.
Wide-eyed, Kazy said, “I can’t. My hand’s disgusting.”
A barely visible grin on her face, Daussie shrugged, “Use your other hand.”
Kazy snickered but started passing plates, one at a time.
As everyone ate and speculated on when they’d catch up with the caravan, Kazy kept breaking out in giggles.
~~~
They had the wagon rolling before the sun broke completely free from the horizon. They were pushing hard, but everyone felt it’d be worth it to catch up to the caravan. Especially the Ropers. They really didn’t like being away from the safety of the large group and its guards.
As before, they started the day with Lizeth on far-point, Daum on near point and Tarc on rearguard. To give people breaks during the day, when they weren’t in forest, Henry sometimes substituted for Lizeth or Daum. To Kazy’s surprise, Daussie sometimes substituted for Tarc.
To get started quickly, they’d tossed their gear on top of the trailer they pulled behind the wagon. Henry was leading the mules. Eva and Mrs. Roper were walking beside the trailer, organizing the gear and passing it up to Kazy in the wagon. She scrambled around inside putting each item in its proper place.
When that was done, Eva and Mrs. Roper kept walking together, chatting amiably.
Kazy walked just behind them, fretfully wondering when she’d get a chance to ask Eva some questions.
***
Daum watched carefully as they approached the roadhouse Henry Roper’d told them to expect. In an effort to help Lizeth detect any threats Daum watched with his ghost as well as his eyes, casting his ghost out as far as he could—well beyond Lizeth.
Situated on a stream, the roadhouse represented an excellent opportunity to water the horses and mules and feed them some oats. As well, they hoped to buy a few supplies they were running low on. Especially fodder for the animals to help them keep going on these long days..
Henry said the caravan usually stopped there to water their animals and eat some lunch, but mentioned that the roadhouse had a mildly unsavory reputation. The caravan had felt safe there because of its numbers, but Henry wasn’t sure a solitary wagon would be—so he urged caution.
Daum thought Henry would have wanted to completely bypass the roadhouse except it was located by the only decent ford on the stream. Trying to go around would’ve required an extensive detour, so Henry simply warned everybody to be alert.
Daum’s ghost picked up some smaller-than-human heat sources on the other side of the building. He thought of perhaps pigs or dogs. Pigs wouldn’t be a problem, but if dogs came running around the building they’d agitate Lizeth’s flighty horse.
When the animals rose to their feet and started trotting around the building Daum thought Dogs. He urged his stolid horse, Brownie, forward. He wished he could warn Lizeth, but hoped Brownie’s stolid presence would help calm her fitful mount.
Daum had worried eyes on Lizeth, so he saw her head suddenly jerk to the side and her hand go forward to calm her horse. She leaned forward to speak to the big beast.
Just before the dogs came around the corner.
Does she have a ghost warning her as well? Daum wondered. He’d have sworn the dogs were silent before they burst around the corner and started barking. Maybe her hearing’s good enough to hear their claws skittering in the dirt?
Lizeth’s horse rose a little, but she quickly controlled it. Daum thought the way she’d started calming the beast before the dogs appeared must’ve helped.
Then he wondered, How’d she hear those dogs coming before the horse did?
Daum forgot about Lizeth’s strange ability as they got busy watering their animals and negotiating for a meal.
~~~
When everyone started into the common room of the roadhouse to get a portion of the chicken and vegetable stew they’d negotiated, Daum turned to a long bench outside, “I’ll sit out here on the porch and watch the wagon. Maybe one of you’ll bring me a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread?”
A teenaged boy from the roadhouse said, “For a copper, I’ll watch your wagon. Let you know if anyone gets near it. That way you can enjoy eating inside with your family.”
Daum gave the boy a sharp look which was blandly returned. He said, “I’d prefer to keep an eye on it myself.” He tried to maintain a neutral tone.
“No problem,” the boy said pleasantly, getting up. “I’ll get you a log to set your bowl on.” Stepping to the end of the porch, he returned with a substantial log, carrying it by a limb stub that provided a handle. He set it on its end next to Daum. Stains on the top end suggested others had eaten from it in the past. The boy went inside and returned a moment later with Daum’s bowl of stew and hunk of bread.
Daum felt guilty for his earlier suspicions.
The boy sat near him on the bench and said, “The Norton caravan came through here yesterday. They said they had a wagon that’d be trying to catch up with them. Was that yours?”
Daum nodded, still chewing a hunk of tough bread. Not as good as Eva bakes—by a long shot, he thought.
“How’d you come to fall behind?” the boy asked.
“One of our number got crosswise of the guard in Realth. She was accused of healing, even though she didn’t charge anyone for her services.”
“Oh,” the boy said, a dismayed tone in his voice. “Did you have to leave her behind? I hear Realth’s really hard on healers.”
“Um, no,” Daum said. “Their king was deposed the night after he convicted her. We managed to slip out during all the confusion over the succession.” Daum felt a little surprised to be carrying on a pleasant conversation with the boy.
Suddenly, his suspicion levels spiked again and he sent out his ghost to check the wagon. Sure enough, while he’d been turned toward the boy on the bench beside him, someone had snuck up to the other side of the wagon. The man had a hand in under the wagon’s bonnet. “Lizeth! Tarc!” Daum barked as he stood and strode off the porch toward the wagon.
The boy ventured a puzzled, “What’s the matter?”
Daum thought it sounded forced.
Daum heard the door of the roadhouse slam open behind him as he rounded the wagon.
A young man, perhaps four years older than his accomplice on the porch, jerked his hand out from under the bonnet and turned to run. He had something in the hand he’d pulled free.
Daum doubted the object in his hand was something he’d been trying to put under the bonnet and failed. He shouted, “Stop!” and took a few running steps—stopping when it became obvious his speed was no match for the young man’s.”
Tarc ran up beside Daum, “He took something?”
Daum nodded, then saw the bow in Tarc’s hand. He quickly said, “Not something worth ending his life over.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the young man stagger. By the time Daum turned his eyes back onto the fleeing teenager, the stagger had turned into a sprawl. Tarc shot him before he even asked me whether the boy’d stolen anything?
Tarc set down his bow and quiver, then trotted after the young man who was lying spread-eagled, face down on
the ground.
Daum saw there weren’t any arrows protruding from the kid.
As Daum started trotting after Tarc, he heard Lizeth call after them, “I’ll stay with the wagon.”
Daum sprinted a few steps to catch up to Tarc, then said, “You didn’t shoot him? Right?”
“No,” Tarc said quietly. “It turns out that spinning the fluid in the canals of someone’s ears renders them completely incapable of staying on their feet. Since the fluid doesn’t have much mass, I can do it at a long distance.”
“Oh,” Daum said, once again dumbfounded by the things Tarc thought of doing with his telekinesis. And, once again, he thought with frustration, it’s something I won’t be able to do since it requires accurately reaching inside someone. He chided himself, But, at least my son’s taught me how to use my ghost to sense things at a distance—which is pretty damn useful in its own right.
Telepath (A Hyllis Family Story #4) Page 2
