“Did you find him?”
“I don’t remember. I think the dream slipped off onto something else at that point.”
“Did you have your shield?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t remember it.”
“I told you you should keep it with you everywhere you go. That includes when you dream.”
That seemed impossible to Milo, but since Culebrant said it in his usual mild way, Milo didn’t feel criticized by Culebrant’s admonishment.
Bori and Molly were teaching the kittens to hunt. They were young cats now, not just little spike-tailed balls of mischief. The two girls were doing quite well with their lessons, catching grasshoppers, moths, and the occasional lizard, but Raster was set on greater prey, choosing to ignore the smaller stuff. He would skip over a perfectly good grasshopper, his eyes fixed on a blue jay that knew exactly what he was up to. It would hop around on the ground while Raster worked himself through the grass on his belly, ears flat and tail flicking with intent until he was almost within range. As he pulled himself into a knot for the final rush, the bird would casually hop up into the lower branches of a bush, just beyond the cat’s reach.
“I don’t know about that boy,” Bori told Milo. “He just won’t listen. It’s got to be all or nothing. I’ve shown him over and over the art of the stalk and how to control his excitement. I’ve advised him that it’s best to practice on little things first, but no, he wants his first kill to be a bear.”
“He’ll get it,” Milo assured the dad. Actually, he wasn’t that sure. Raster had more energy than patience.
And then one day Raster came into the yard, dragging a woodrat that was almost his size. He growled at his sisters when they ran out to see what he had, and glared a warning at everyone else. He was much too proud of his kill to try eating it, and wouldn’t put it down until Bori came home. Raster laid it at his father’s feet and sat, his back turned toward his dad and the rat to show that it wasn’t such a big deal, and went to work straightening out his roughed-up fur. Apparently the woodrat had put up a pretty good tussle. Milo couldn’t tell which of the two—father or son—was the prouder.
Later, Bori made a comment to Milo. “You two are a lot alike: you and Raster. Not satisfied with practicing on the little stuff first. You both have to go for the big kill.”
“What do you mean?” Milo asked, surprised and a little put-off.
“That shield. You’re obsessing about it. If you wouldn’t try so hard, I bet it would just be there, in your dreams like Culebrant said it should be. Are you sure it isn’t?”
Milo shrugged. “Maybe I should just tell him that it’s there, and let it go at that.”
“Somehow, I don’t think that would work. Not with Culebrant.”
On the morning of the summer solstice, Milo awoke, bursting out of sleep in a state of excitement. He ran straight off to find Culebrant.
“I did it! It happened!” he announced the instant he found the old man, trimming kindling for the morning’s fire.
“You did?” Culebrant asked mildly, not looking up from the axe chop.
“Yes! My shield!”
“It was there in your dreams, I take it,” Culebrant said as if it were the most ordinary thing Milo could say. “Tell me about it—after we do our morning exercises, just like we do every day. Your dream can wait. Focus your thoughts so you can give me all the details later.”
They did that. Milo unraveled the excitement and confusion of remembered dream images, remarking with increasing amazement at the richness of detail. By the time they had finished their morning sequence, they sat down and Milo began.
“At first, I didn’t have my shield. It just wasn’t there. I didn’t miss it or think about it, or anything. But then, I saw someone.”
“Who was it?”
“It was Kayn.”
“How do you know? I thought you’ve told me that you never actually saw him.”
“I...just knew. And I knew then that I had my shield and it was right there. I was holding it up in front of me. He looked right at me, but then—and I was terrified he’d seen me—he sort of gazed away like he hadn’t noticed me. I realized that the shield had hidden me from him.”
“Where’s your shield now?”
Shock hit Milo. He didn’t have it. Having it was second nature after carrying it around all the time, and he didn’t have it. He hadn’t even noticed.
“I...I guess I must have left it on the bed when I woke up. I was so excited. I’ll go get it.”
He rushed off toward the cottage, chagrined at his slip-up. Forgetting his shield just when he’d finally succeeded in dreaming about it was embarrassing.
It wasn’t where he’d left it, right beside his bed where he put it last thing before he went to sleep so it would be there when he got up. It wasn’t near the bed, or anywhere else in the cottage. With all sorts of wild thoughts about where it could be or what could have happened to it, he started out the door of the cottage and ran into Culebrant, coming in.
“Did you find it?” he asked Milo.
“No. I...I must have left it...”
Culebrant interrupted. “You won’t find it. You don’t need to. You’ve internalized it. When you needed it in your dream, it was there. That’s where it is now. You’ve succeeded, my young friend.” And he smiled warmly.
Milo was at first dumbfounded, but then what Culebrant was telling him began to sink in. And he understood what Bori had told him, and how cat and son had felt when Raster caught the woodrat.
Culebrant said no more about the shield for some time, until one day, with no lead in at all, he said, “You have your shield. Now you must learn to stalk. Kayn is searching for you, and you must find him first. That’s your best protection. The hunter, believing he is controlling the hunt, will not realize that he is the hunted. Stalk him. Keep up with what he’s doing and learn all you can about him. You must know your foe before the showdown.”
“How? How can I do that?”
“By Dreaming.” Culebrant paused, letting Milo comprehend that he didn’t have any idea about what Culebrant was talking about before he continued. “Not sleeping, but by using the state of dreaming in a conscious way. That’s Dreaming.”
Culebrant had Milo sit in concentration, the same way they did every morning as the final part of the exercises they did, with his eyes closed and his body in relaxed focus. After Milo settled, Culebrant spoke. “Find his face,” he told Milo, so gently that it seemed not to be actual words, but inside Milo’s head.
Milo pictured Kayn’s face, seeing it just as he had dreamed it. He studied it, slowly noticing that the rest of him filled in to make a whole image inside a setting. Milo felt his shield held in place, although he didn’t feel like he was there himself at all. It was a little like watching television, except he could feel the air and smell heather and wood smoke. There was a crowd, with Kayn standing at its borders. Milo recognized it as the assembly at the End of the Earth ball court. Kayn was working his way carefully around the crowd, looking at the many faces and observing what had drawn the crowd’s interest. The crowd was watching Beryl, Teryl, and Deryl.
Kayn, however, avoided them and continued to look for something else. Milo watched as he caught sight of Analisa and stopped to study her with an intense expression of spite on his face. Milo felt apprehensive for fear he would do something to her, but Kayn moved on. He found and watched Aulaires who was speaking with Count Yeroen. The crowd began breaking up, Kayn trailed along behind Aulaires and Yeroen until they separated. He then turned to follow the Count.
“Where do you go now, Lord?” Kayn, using the wheedling guise of Smith, asked as he caught up with Yeroen. The two clearly knew each other.
“To follow the next clue in my quest,” Yeroen said confidently.
“And that is...?” Kayn—now as Smith—asked, leaving his question open.
“It will have something to do with how those three silly pups return to claim their heritage in the Oak Clan.”
Yeroen paused. “I don’t have the details worked out yet.”
Smith nodded in sympathy. “Of course, I’m no lore master as you are, but as you know, I have some knowledge. The obvious place to look, of course, would be Akenwald, where those three oak-heads will be traveling, but that seems too obvious, don’t you think? No, there’s another possibility. Very risky, but the sort of challenge suited to the competition in the Magical Scavenger Hunt. Certainly a risk within the abilities of an accomplished mage like yourself.”
Milo wanted to scream at the Count. Surely such blatant flattery should trigger his suspicion of this charlatan, but Yeroen smiled smugly. “What? Out with it, man!”
“Well, you surely know of the Valley of the Stone Knights? Of course you do. During the War of the Elementals, the rebel army sacked the End of the World, ending its existence as a city. They moved on, expecting to gain aid with a secret weapon, but they ran into an army of the Loyalists first. There was a terrible battle. When the rebel army was forced to retreat, they made their way into a valley which is now known as the Valley of the Stone Knights. In order to hold off their enemies while the main van of the army could slip out across the pass at the head of the valley, the Knights of the Guard took a terrible oath. They swore to hold the valley against the insurmountable odds of the Elemental Army, fighting without quarter and asking for none.”
“Yes, yes, I know the legend. They took the Lithic Oath in order to be able to stand against the onslaught of their foes. They succeeded, but the price they paid was dear indeed. They became the Stone Knights. Invulnerable and retaining their fighting skills, but turned into animated stone, soulless and capable of nothing but duty and combat. They have no alternative than warfare. To this day, anyone who ventures into the valley can expect to be attacked as soon as a Knight senses the intruder.”
“Your acumen is impressive,” Smith gushed, “but remember, they still hold their secrets—secrets from the time when they sacked the End of the World. Vanquish one of them, and he must reveal the secret that the End of the World holds. That, I would guess, would reveal knowledge that sheds light on the clue you’re seeking.”
“Hmm,” Yeroen intoned, thinking. “You could be right. And what an extraordinary accomplishment that would be! That would impress the Hunt judges! But is it possible? No one of flesh and blood can defeat a Stone Knight!”
“Oh, there is another way, and it has been done, from time to time. I read about it in the great library of Inverdissen, in a book long buried in the catacombs of its vast collection. Clever subterfuge can trick a Knight into believing he has been defeated and then he will tell his secret to the person who defeated him. It’s his price for failure and the loss of all he has left: his honor.”
“How would you”—Yeroen began, but broke off as Smith grabbed his arm, warning him to silence. Milo had edged very close in order to hear what was being said, and jerked his shield into place as Smith/Kayn—sensed something. Smith drew the Count away, and Milo dared not follow too closely.
He trailed along at a distance, watching as they walked, heads together in guarded conversation, until they came to Yeroen’s camp. Smith veered off and Yeroen began packing for departure.
Milo followed Smith. He seemed to be wandering aimlessly, but he soon came on Aulaires. He spoke with her, glancing around as if to avoid notice, and then continued on his way. Now Aulaires went into a whirlwind of action to hurry off toward Yeroen’s camp.
Smith sought out three more of the Hunt contestants as Milo watched. After he had spoken with each one, that contestant went into a frenzy to be off. Milo, feeling the strain of his concentration, let the scene slide away. He sagged into Culebrant’s presence.
“He sent them away,” he said. “Kayn! Kayn Smith sent them into the Valley of the Stone Knights! Why would he do that? Why did he want to get them killed!?” The cold blooded horror of what had happened hit him harder than when Stigma had told him about it.
“They’re not dead, not exactly,” Culebrant said. “Just frozen in the stone spell which the Knights use to hold their prisoners. As to why Kayn would do that? He’s cunning and ruthless. I’m sure he had his reasons, and my guess is that it had something to do with flushing you out. Perhaps he hoped to lure you there, either to ambush you himself or let the Stone Knights do it for him. How did you avoid his trap?”
“I didn’t!” Milo said, distressed at the thought that he had caused what had happened to the other contestants. He thought of Analisa, and wondered if she had gotten a visit from Smith, and if she were now ensorcelled in stone. It made him wince, helpless to undo whatever he had contributed to. “He tricked them. I didn’t have any idea where they went, because...I had a different idea about what I needed to do and the next clue. So I went a different way.”
Another thought hit him, deflecting his remorse in confusion about another issue. “I was there,” he stated. “Right there, right then, at the End of the Earth. And then there I was, as the me I am now, watching Kayn. Were there two of me there at the same time?”
“You weren’t actually there at all,” Culebrant explained. “You looked in on Kayn from Dreaming. In Dreaming, you sidestep the Rule. Even if you see yourself, you are seeing yourself as you were then, not as you are now. You’re looking at the manifest world from outside it.”
Milo’s head ached. “I don’t understand. I don’t get it.”
“Action within the manifest world belongs to the conditions imposed by the Rule,” Culebrant explained. “You can watch Kayn in any time you choose, but you can’t do anything to him, or act upon anything in the scene you’re viewing.”
“But...I got too close and he knew I was there. I used my shield, and I don’t think he really knew it was me, but he knew something was watching him, because he moved away and made sure I couldn’t hear what he was saying after that.”
“Watching the manifest world from Dreaming is sort of like standing outside a room and looking in through the window. What you say about Kayn sensing you is very interesting, because it reveals that he knows about Dreaming. I don’t expect he can use Dreaming himself—it’s a very rare skill, and I would know if he were able to Dream—but apparently he’s able to sense when a window is open. You made a mistake that Dreamers often make at first. You believed that you were actually there. It’s like standing at a window when the light is on; it makes you visible to someone outside the window. Luckily you obscured yourself with your shield, so Kayn was unsure that he had sensed you and you didn’t give yourself away. Let that be a lesson, and don’t make that mistake again. You won’t escape his notice a second time. If he figures out that you’re watching him, he’s clever and skilled enough to turn the table on you and he’ll be stalking you as you are stalking him.”
It all made Milo’s head spin.
Culebrant kept Milo watching and learning everything he could about Kayn from Dreaming. Most of the time, there was very little of importance; he watched Kayn travel, apparently following the Hunt contestants as they converged on the pass of the Stone Knights. Kayn traveled in the humble persona of Smith in order to avoid drawing suspicion to himself. Milo saw how often he would pause, fixing his attention on someone, lip curled in a sneer. Especially Count Yeroen, who seemed to be oblivious to Kayn’s presence. Milo learned to recognize Smith by his sidling walk and his studied, nondescript bearing. But he saw very little that revealed what Kayn’s plans might be. Even this, Culebrant insisted, was important, because it allowed Milo to become acquainted with how Kayn looked, how he moved, and how he behaved within his disguise as Smith.
“Keep watching him,” Culebrant insisted, “and you’ll find the moments when he reveals his purpose. Then he’ll be unable to fool you with some ruse when you meet him face to face. It’s the whole reason to stalk him.”
Bit by bit, Milo followed Kayn until he crossed the pass into the Valley of the Stone Knights. Kayn gauged his arrival well behind the Hunt contestants. Milo saw how he moved into the valley with extreme cauti
on, seeking to avoid the notice of the once again dormant Stone Knights. He was methodical, seeking out the Hunt’s casualties one by one. Milo saw how he took pleasure in the fate of each one, each one a person who had done nothing to deserve being petrified.
The first was Ali-Sembek, now a heroic statue astride his winged horse as it reared with Ali waving his granite sword like a warrior in battle. Apparently that had been a poorly thought-out strategy. Kayn showed little interest in the man except to note and sneer at his failure, and moved on quickly. He located each unfortunate for a similar look-over. Braenach, Tivik, Wei Jain, Obeah Reah and Vianna. Count Yeroen was not among them, nor were Aulaires (presumably her charms could melt even the stoniest males) Lute, Sarakka, or—to Milo’s relief—Analisa. Because he had met her later, he wasn’t surprised that Stigma was not among the ensorcelled, although he wondered if he would have been able to see her if she had been captured in stone.
After further searching without finding any others—and he seemed particularly frustrated by these results—Kayn made his way back to cross out of the valley by way of the pass. Just before the top, Kayn suddenly ducked into cover and Milo instinctively did the same. Each of them peeked out after a few moments to see what—or who—was coming in. Milo expected a Stone Knight. It wasn’t. A figure dressed in patched, well-worn green made his way stealthily into the tangle of shrubbery. Tinburkin.
Kayn buried himself into the foliage. Milo moved in as close as he dared to watch as Kayn studied the ranger, the lip-curl more pronounced than ever and making wringing motions with his hands as if restraining a desire to do damage.
Milo could see that Kayn was poised to blast Tinburkin if he showed signs of detecting him, and Milo’s tension mounted into a terrible urge to do something to keep Kayn from doing harm to the ranger.
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