by Karen Myers
Of the four of them there, only Cydifor couldn’t see the way entrance and was letting his confusion show. George dismounted and walked up to it, casually sticking his arm in and letting Cydifor see it disappear, then using that visual aid to outline the whole entrance. I bet the couriers play games like this, he thought, when no one else is around.
Idris and some of the guards watched, too, from the ground level beyond the terrace steps.
George glanced up at Rhodri on his horse. “When I first looked at the Family Way a few weeks ago, I walked right through it. Here, I don’t think I can walk through it without walking into it, into the passage, if you see what I mean. Though maybe from the other side…”
He put that theory to the test and walked through the way entrance from the back, with no effect.
Rhodri told him, “That’s the difference between unclaimed ways and claimed ones that are open but require tokens. A way that’s open and unclaimed, and all unclaimed ways are open, will take in anyone that approaches from the right direction. That’s how we get humans stumbling into our world, especially here in the new world where we’re still finding unclaimed ways.”
“Oh,” he interrupted himself as the thought struck him. “Of course. If Mag’s people create the ways, then they’re still being made, we’re not going to run out. At least not over here where they live.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “Once a way’s been claimed, then its behavior while open depends on the intent of the owner. It can be left open only for those with the right tokens, or a way-guide, or it can be left publicly open, like a road. In that case, the entrance is always very well-marked, to avoid accidents.”
Movement from the manor house caught George’s eye, and they all turned as Ceridwen opened the door with a large package of materials in her hand.
“Please accept our apologies for delaying you,” she said. “Eluned and I have been scribbling since the early morning.” She stood off to the side to watch them go.
George stuffed her papers into the bag by his side and made sure the strap across his chest was secure. He mounted up and raised an eyebrow at Idris, who nodded his readiness.
“Mag?” George said, “After you.”
The small group on the terrace headed the party, and Idris’s guards brought up the rear. In just a few minutes, they emerged into the river meadow, oddly empty since the bustle of people and wagons the day before had left their marks in the snow.
George rode right on without stopping to the entrance of the Archer’s Way, and Idris’s group came with him. Mag stood away with Rhodri and Cydifor to wait for him.
“I’ll be right back,” he called, and vanished into the way’s passage with Idris’s men.
Coming out the other side, he startled the two guards into attention as they saw Idris following.
One of them rode over to George. “Huntsman, my lord Gwyn asked me to deliver this to you if you should appear.”
He took off a courier bag similar to the one George was wearing, and held it out to him. They exchanged their bags, and George saluted Idris casually as he turned to re-enter the Archer’s Way.
Leave it to Gwyn to have a new mail drop organized, George thought, as he traveled the passage and returned to the river meadow.
Rhodri was waiting for him at the exit. “Let’s start with the Archer’s Way. It’s probably going to be complicated.”
George dismounted and joined him.
“What do we know about this way?” Rhodri asked his student.
“Well, Mag said Cloudie made it so we presume Madog owns it.” He reached out to check that but the results were ambiguous, as though he could grasp it but not well. “I’m not sure, but I think I have some sort of claim on it. How could that happen?”
“You sealed it while it was open, and that may have compromised it. I thought that might have happened, since you were able to act as a way-guide. I wonder what the way you sealed this morning looks like now, since you did it.”
“But that’s not supposed to be possible, is it?” Cydifor asked. “If I understand what you’ve been saying.”
“No,” George said, “but I think I’ve been getting a little extra help from my, um, patron.” He reminded Cydifor how Cernunnos handled the ways during the great hunt. “I think I must be something of a wild card.”
“So,” George said to Rhodri, “Does that mean I can close it? More to the point, can I keep Madog out?”
“I doubt that,” Rhodri replied, “He’s probably at least as much of an owner as you are and can’t be blocked. Although I’m just guessing here—no one’s ever heard of shared ownership of the same way or its parts. You might be able to collapse it altogether, and of course I would expect you could seal this end, and that would block Madog. After all, you’ve already proved that would work at the other end.”
He turned to Cydifor and explained. “After the great hunt and the failure of Madog’s schemes, he tried to escape through the Archer’s Way but couldn’t get past George’s seal.”
“Mag,” George said, “Could you make a very small way for us, the kind that doesn’t go anywhere? Rhodri and I would like to try claiming it and other destructive experiments, if you don’t mind.”
*Agreement. Interest.*
Seething Magma moved forward and progressively vanished, reappearing a few yards away. George watched while she made the way but couldn’t detect what she was doing. The creation of the way itself, however, blazed through George’s senses, so close as he was. It started with a light at the entrance which sizzled along the leading edge of the way as Mag built it, flaring up at the end when she finished. He could see both ends, as bright as for the large way she’d created yesterday to take them to Edgewood Manor.
“May I claim this one, my lady, for an experiment?” Rhodri asked.
*Agreement.*
“Go ahead,” George said for her.
“Get comfortable, Cydifor. This could take a while, depending on how thick his head is.”
George bent down and responded with a snowball.
Rhodri brushed off his coat and drew himself up into a simulacrum of a dignified lecturer. “Here’s an unclaimed way. Let’s pretend that it’s a traveling way and I’ve just found the one end. Ah, the excitement.” He grinned, breaking character, then sobered.
“Seriously, though, this is a real luxury. Most way-finders don’t ever see an unclaimed way, except when they’re taught. There are a few minor ways that are used for teaching, which are claimed, unclaimed, reclaimed, and so forth as examples, and that’s what we’re going to do with this one. Watch what I do.”
George could feel Rhodri reaching out and gripping the end of the way nearest to him. It flared where he touched it and its light changed. George struggled for a way to describe the change. He settled on color complexity, the color became somehow less pure.
When George reached for the same end, his grip now slipped on it. The other end, however, still seemed available, the color cleaner.
“You’ve claimed this end, but I think the other could be claimed by someone else.”
“That’s right,” Rhodri said. “If we each owned one end, we’d have to cooperate to use it. The traveling ways that enter rock are usually claimed at one end, in expectation that the other end may someday become accessible.”
“Do you know the history of the Travelers’ Way?” he asked George.
George shook his head.
“Trevor Mawr discovered one end of it after a rock fall freed it from underground obscurity. He said that it blazed to the heavens before he claimed it for Gwyn. The other end was unclaimed, of course, because it ended in the new world, and none of us were there yet.”
*Picture of Granite Cloud, picture of short, small tunnel. Picture of Mag, picture of medium length, broad tunnel. Picture of Gravel, picture of long, giant tunnel.*
“Mag says her folk make bigger and longer tunnels the older they get,” George said.
“That makes sense. For the ways, th
e bigger they are, the less common. We only know of two between the old world and the new.”
“How did Madog get here,” Cydifor asked.
Rhodri turned to him. “That’s the big question. Gwyn wondered if there might be another way that only Madog uses.”
“Do you know, Mag?” George said.
*Wait… Picture of Shenandoah Valley, overlaid with ways, too much detail.*
She formed a pseudopod on the front of her mantle and struck her own surface, since she couldn’t make a noise against snow-covered ground. Three knocks.
“She doesn’t know. Rhodri, she showed me a brief picture of the valley beyond the Blue Ridge. There are dozens, maybe hundreds of ways there.”
“Madog’s creations? Or, rather, Cloudie’s?”
“I don’t see what else they can be.”
“Where can they all go?” Cydifor said.
“Maybe they’re experiments with Cloudie, like this.” Rhodri said. “Back to this example. Can you take my claim away?”
George already knew the answer but tried again, without success. He shook his head.
“I’m going to close this end.”
George saw the light become blurred.
“Can you open it?”
Just like Madog’s way earlier that morning, George made the attempt and failed.
“I’m going to claim the whole way and then hide it,” Rhodri said.
*Question?*
“Wait up, Rhodri. Mag, are you following our discussion of opening and closing ways?”
*Picture of Mag, picture of way. Picture of mouse going through the way. Picture of water going through the way.*
“Let me see if I understand. You make open ways. Animals go through them. Water goes through them.”
One knock.
Rhodri said, “There are a couple of ways in the old world which are famous for having a stream running through the bottom of the passage. It’s how they were discovered, the water vanishing or appearing unexpectedly.”
George waited, but Mag didn’t add anything. “Can you close the ways, Mag?”
Two knocks.
“Well, that’s unexpected,” Rhodri said.
“Why should it be?” George said. “They don’t use them the same way we do. I don’t think they can own them either. Otherwise, Mag could claim herself and confront Madog without fear. Right, Mag?”
One knock.
“Rhodri, can you hide the way? I’d like Mag to see,” George said.
Rhodri stared at George. “I already did.”
“Oh.” The way looked exactly the same to him. “Can you see it, Mag?”
*Amusement.* One knock.
“Looks like she can see it, too,” he said.
“I’m sure it’s hidden,” Rhodri frowned. “I know it’s there because I claimed it, but I can barely see it. I’ll change it back.”
He walked over to a bush and broke off some twigs. “Let’s try you on way-tokens. These are flimsy, but they’ll do. Watch how I seal my ownership to a token.”
George tried to reach out with his mind to watch but he couldn’t see anything.
Rhodri looked up in satisfaction. “There. See?”
George shook his head. “Um, no. How should I watch?”
“The same way you did when I closed the way.”
“That’s what I tried. Nothing happened.”
“Yes it did. If I gave another way-adept this token, he’d be able to open the ends I sealed—it’s a master-token. Lesser tokens can be used by anyone.” He handed it to George.
George looked at it. He had no sense of it at all. He looked at the way and the ends were still closed. He couldn’t see how to apply the one to the other. It was just a twig to him.
“I don’t think I can do tokens, Rhodri. This is just a bit of wood, for all I can tell.”
Rhodri said slowly, “Apparently we’re not the same sort of way-finder. This isn’t how it usually works. Let me try one more thing. I’ll give you my claim.”
George reached out for the way again and found he could grasp it. He opened both ends. “That worked,” he said. “I’ve claimed it.”
They quickly ran through a similar list, this time with George at the helm. He was able to open and close the entrances and hide the way from Rhodri, though not from Mag.
When he tried to give his claim to Rhodri, though, he couldn’t make that work. He tried to unclaim the way altogether, and was successful.
The horned man stirred inside him and stretched. “I want to try something,” he said. He wasn’t sure if this was a suggestion from within or his own idea, he wondered. Didn’t matter, he wanted to see what the result would be, either way. Instead of reaching for the ends of the unclaimed way, he reached for the entire thing and, in some fashion, absorbed it.
“What did you do?” Rhodri asked.
“I’m not sure. Mag?”
*Picture of George. Picture of George, larger.*
Well, that fits, he thought. It feels like a really big coat. He mentally mapped the ends to his hands and moved his arms. The way’s ends moved to match, and the passage in-between moved with them.
Rhodri gasped.
Cydifor looked at him. “What happened?”
“He’s picked up the way and moved it,” Rhodri whispered.
What if I can’t take this off, George thought. What would happen if I intersected someone with a moving end? What if someone had been inside when I moved it? Can I bury it in the ground?
He pictured himself shucking off the coat, and the way settled into its new position, on the surface.
“That was unnerving,” he said. A snort from the horned man as he settled back down.
Seething Magma shuffled several feet back from George, and he looked at her. “What?”
*Picture of horned man. Respect.*
“Don’t do that, Mag, it’s just me,” he said.
Two knocks.
The implication made George deeply uncomfortable and he shied away from examining it more closely.
They walked over to the moved way and Rhodri marked its location in the snow for Cydifor, starting at the far end and coming toward them. As he reached Mag, his foot slipped and he instinctively reached for her to break his fall. When his gloved hands touched her, he cried out as if burned and fell back into the snow. Mag backed away from him.
George bent over him. Rhodri’s face was ashen. “What happened?” George asked him.
“I don’t know. When I touched her, it felt as if my hands were on fire, and then my mind.” He took a deep breath and shuddered. “Can we go home now?” he said, in a plaintive voice very unlike his usual banter.
George was alarmed. He thought back and couldn’t recall anyone touching Mag, everyone keeping a distance out of respect, or fear of her strangeness. He remembered all the children greeting Mag last night and felt light-headed for a moment. He helped Rhodri up. “We’ll leave in just a moment.”
*Sorry. Sorry. Picture of children. Picture of Rhodri, in the snow. Sorry.*
“He’ll be alright, Mag,” George said, though he imagined she could detect the uncertainty in his thoughts. “Was it something you did, by accident?”
Two knocks.
So, not deliberate. Maybe, he wondered, it’s something you are. George took off his glove and reached out slowly, touching her with a fingertip. Nothing. He lay his hand flat on her surface, and then his other hand. No effect.
He lifted his hands and turned to look at Cydifor.
“Oh, no,” Cydifor said. “I can see where this is going.”
Rhodri, beginning to recover, appealed to him, and reluctantly Cydifor came forward. He gingerly tapped Mag with one finger and staggered back. “Very unpleasant,” he said, “as if I were being drained somehow.”
George said, “Thank you, Cydifor. I think this is very important to know.”
He turned to Mag. “We’re leaving, that’s enough for now. We have a lot to think about. Can you destroy this way?”
“No, I don’t suppose there’s any reason for your folks to do so, is there? Mind if I do? I don’t want to leave it hanging around.”
*Agreement.*
George reached out to feel the way, a little tunnel of order in a world that wanted to revert to entropy. He’d closed ways twice before, as gently as possible, since he didn’t know how big they were or what to expect. This time he had an intimate feel for the entirety of this way and he clenched a mental fist quickly as if squeezing it into non-existence. It popped like a balloon with a miniature thunderclap, trapped air spurting out of both ends. Bits of snow and debris that had been tracked in by Mag fell a few inches to the ground, making a visible trace.
Cydifor and Rhodri stood their ground, their faces expressionless. He looked at them and wondered sadly if they were suddenly afraid of him, like Mag was for a moment. Well, nothing he could do about it except hope that it wore off.
Before remounting, he pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. He rubbed his thumb over the engraving on the back as he closed it.
*Picture of watch. Question?*
“It’s a mechanism for tracking the time. The hands take a full day to go around the dial.”
*No. Picture of engraving. Question?*
Ah. She wants to know about the engraving and why it means something to me. “This is an illustration from a legend where I come from. It’s the story of St. George and the Dragon. A friend gave it to me, because of my name.”
*Picture of dragon, threatened by St. George’s spear. Question?*
“Is this because Ceridwen said the fae called your kind dragons once? Different worlds, different dragons. Don’t worry, we’re not enemies.” He sent her a wave of affection. “You can read us better than that.”
She paused, then *Agreement.*
She’s as shaken as we are, he thought. He showed her the picture of mouse, deer, man, Mag, horned man, and told her, nothing is certain, but we can all of us choose our friends.
They mounted up and followed her back through her way to the manor.
George came into the conservatory from the outside with Mag for the afternoon council session and found the tables lined up again into a longer line, a return to the impromptu council table of the day before. He was the last to arrive.
