the ones that pulled away from them as they passed, or worse, actually reached out to touch them, feeling them like blind and curious old women. And the sapling that had torn up its roots and shuffled away last night when Tarma thought about how nice a fire would feel...
And by no means least, the ones like they'd spent the night in (though only after Kethry repeatedly assured her nervous partner that it was perfectly harmless). It had been hut-sized and hut-shaped, with only a thatch of green on the 'roof -- and hollow. And inside had been odd protrusions that resembled stools, a table, and bed- platforms to a degree that was positively frightening. A lovely little trap it would have made -- Tarma slept restlessly that night, dreaming about the 'door' growing closed and trapping them inside, like those poor bugs the flowers had trapped.
'I'm at the stage where I could use a familiar,' Kethry replied, 'I've explained all this before. Besides, a familiar will be able to take some of the burden of night-watch off both of us, particularly if I can manage to call a kyree.'
Tarma sighed.
'It's only fair. I came with you to the Plains. I took a battlesteed at your insistence.'
'Agreed. But I don't have to like this place. Are you sure there's anything here you can call? We haven't seen so much as a mouse or a sparrow since things started looking weird.'
'That's because they don't want you to see them. Relax, we're going to stop soon; we're almost where I wanted to go.'
'How can you tell, if you've never been here?'
'You'll see.'
Sure enough, Tarma did see. The paved road came to a dead end; at the end it widened out into a flat, featureless circle some fifty paces in diameter.
The paved area was surrounded by yet another kind of tree, some sort of evergreen with thin, tangled branches that started a bit less than knee-high and continued straight up so that the trees were like green columns reaching to the sky. They had grown so closely together that it would have been nearly impossible for anything to force its way between them. That meant there was only one way for anything to get into the circle -- via the road.
'Now what?'
'Find someplace comfortable and make yourself a camp wherever you feel safest -- although I can guarantee that as long as you stay inside the trees you'll be perfectly safe.'
'Myself? What about you?'
'Oh, I'll be here, but I'll be busy. The process of calling a familiar is rather involved and takes a long time.' Kethry dismounted in the exact center of the pavement and began unloading her saddlebags from Ironheart's back.
'How long is 'a long time'?' The paved area really took up only about half of the circular clearing. The rest was grass and scattered boulders, a green and lumpy rim surrounding the smooth gray pavement. There was plenty of windfall lying around the grassy area, most of it probably good and dry, dry enough to make a fire. And there was a nice little nook at the back of the circle, a cluster of boulders that would make a good firepit. Somehow Tarma didn't want even the slightest chance of fire escaping from her. Not here. Not after that walking sapling; no telling what its mother might think about fire, or the makers of fire.
'Until sunset tomorrow night.'
'What?'
'I told you, it's very complicated. Surely you can find something to do with yourself...'
'Well, I'm going to have to, aren't I? I'm certainly not going to leave you alone out here.'
Kethry didn't bother to reply with anything more than an amused smile, and began setting up her spell- casting equipment. Tarma, grumbling, took both mares over to the side of the paved area and gave them the command to stay on the grass, unsaddled and unharnessed them, and began grooming them to within an inch of their lives.
When she slipped a look over at her partner, Kethry was already seated within a sketched-in circle, a tiny brazier emitting a spicy-scented smoke beside her. Her eyes were closed and from the way her lips were moving she was chanting. Tarma sighed with resignation, and hauled the tack over to the area where she intended to camp.
It had lacked about a candlemark to sunset when they'd reached this place; by the time Tarma finished setting up camp to her liking, the sun was down and she was heartily glad of the fire she'd lit. It wasn't that it was cold...
